One gunshot was enough for pandemonium to break out in the theater as the families who had arrived to watch the movie immediately started to run for the exit while the agents blocked all the doors and even the emergency exits.
Harry, Maya, and Jessie immediately went under their seats, covering their ears as they tried to crawl away from Atlas, who was already in action.
The man took the woman, who was actually a man, as his shield and shot three more of the shooters who stood in his family's way before he pushed the body away from him and used the seats as his defense.
Taking advantage of the chaos, the merc took down three more of the agents, his bullets piercing their skulls with pinpoint accuracy as he tried to clear out the way for his family. Regrettably, the gun he had borrowed only had six bullets in it, which meant that he needed to look for something better.
Harry hesitated a bit, looking back at his dad, who was fighting with his life on the line. He was about to turn around only for a hand to grab his shirt and pull him forward.
"Don't look back, Harry. Do NOT look back." Maya mumbled. "The faster we run, the sooner he joins us." She told him, pulling both the children toward the exit that was now surrounded by dead bodies thanks to Atlas' work and the mindless shooting of the agents.
For a moment there was complete silence as both the agents and Atlas had stopped their firing. The public who had been trapped there were either dead or hiding between the rows, trying their best to survive the mess that was brewing inside the theater.
Atlas looked around himself; the room was still dark, with the only source of illumination being the projector that was still working from the wall behind him. This clearly meant that whoever had paid for the agents had already taken the entire theater under control as well because neither the guards nor anyone else, for that matter, had decided to even take a look inside the theater despite the loud gunshots.
'So there's no help coming from outside,' he thought as he tiptoed towards the back, where he could still see three more men searching for him with night vision goggles. Thankfully, he was using the other side, which meant that they wouldn't be able to see him till they turned around.
Harry's group was still moving through the mess of dead bodies, crawling between the rows and columns of seats as they walked towards the exit. He looked back and noticed that his dad wasn't where he had last been, but the men with guns were still watching, which meant that his dad wasn't dead yet.
The merc tackled the nearest agent, rolling with him on the floor as he pointed the man's gun at the next agent and shot him twice in the chest before smashing the man's nose with his elbow and punching him twice while keeping the gun's muzzle away from his body.
"DAD! BEHIND YOU!"
Atlas turned his head exactly in time for the third agent to shoot at his back; the merc rolled to his side and watched as the bullet hit the first agent whose nose he had smashed.
"Harry!" Maya pulled the boy ahead of herself as she rushed to vacate their previous position. "Why did you—"
"Look who's here…" A gruff voice interrupted her as the trio were rushing towards the exit. "Girlfriend and kids….hmm…it seems Zero has been doing quite well for himself."
The three looked up and saw a huge man in a black suit glaring daggers at them. He had a gun in one hand and a shiny golden badge on his left chest with the letter 'A7' on it, signifying that he was probably the leader of the agents.
"Shit." Harry mumbled and looked back at Maya and Jessie, who were both watching as the man pointed his gun at him while his dad kept on firing at the third agent on the backside of the theater.
"Hey, Zero!" The man shouted. "Drop the gun and come out, you bastard. I have this little family of yours right in front of me."
The firing stopped, and Harry knew that his dad was probably checking to see if the huge man was actually right or if he was just pulling tricks to make him surrender.
"KIDDO?! LADY?!" Atlas shouted from the back wall, careful as to not use their real names.
"Think I am fucking around with you?" The man shouted back. "Take a look yourself." He said and leaned down, with his gun pointed at Harry as he picked the boy up with one hand and raised him up. "SEE?! He's yours, isn't he? Now, drop the gun and come out of your hiding, or this one dies."
Harry watched as a gun was raised in the air before it was dropped, and slowly his dad came out of the last row, where he had been hiding.
"Learn the lesson, lads!" The man holding Harry smirked at them, "Look at what happened. This is why we vow to never raise a family."
"No need to compensate for your cocklessness, idiot." Atlas threw back at him, "You lot have problems with me; I am ready to go with you. My family is innocent; release them."
"That's a good offer right there." Seven shrugged. "Unfortunately, we have been ordered not to take any prisoners or leave any witnesses. So…" He grinned as he pointed the gun at Harry's temple.
Harry watched as his dad was immediately pulled out into the open and handcuffed before he was pushed down to his knees and the agent with whom he was fighting placed a gun on his head. He looked down at Maya and Jessie; the girl was tightly hugging her mom as they trembled in fright.
It was at this moment when Harry decided that enough was enough. The boy closed his eyes and tried to remember the feeling that had led to the accident with Vernon Dursley almost three years ago.
There was a soft click beside his head, and with a furious roar, Harry willed himself to push the man holding him as far as he could while bringing his dad near him. A warm feeling surged within his chest before his entire body felt light, and he was immediately released by the man.
Two things happened in that moment as Harry's magic fluctuated around them. First, the boy was released, and second, the merc's eyes widened in shock when he felt a slight tug at his navel before he suddenly appeared right in front of his family with Harry atop his back.
The group was stunned as they watched the large man fly through the theater before he crashed past the screen. They winced a bit as he went straight into a few lightning tubes and was electrocuted before their eyes.
"What the fuck?!" Atlas mumbled in shock as he looked at his family, who were watching him. "Is this a dream, or did all of that actually happen?" He looked at Maya, who was blinking at them in shock.
"Definitely not a dream." Maya told them. "Now what do we do?"
Before anyone could have answered, they had to duck down as the remaining agents began to fire at them. Atlas looked around and spotted a gun that he guessed might have belonged to Agent Seven. He was about to pick it up when something worse, far worse, rolled in front of his eyes.
"FUCK!" He shouted. "It's a live grenade! Run!"
Atlas kicked the grenade as far as he could, but they knew that it wouldn't go far enough to keep them safe from the blast.
Once more, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the warm feeling inside his chest; he let it fill him completely before he pictured all of them in his home.
Almost immediately they felt a harsh tug at the back of their navel before there was a loud 'pop,' and within a moment they felt as if being pushed into a tight tube. The last thing that they heard amid the ongoing gunfire was a deafening bang before they vanished into thin air.
Agent Five internally sighed as she stood in front of the large doors. "Agent A5. Reporting to the deputy regarding mission Axis." She spoke to the machine before taking a step back to let it scan her from head to toe for anything out of order.
Finally, there was a green signal from inside and a small beep before the large doors opened to let her inside the deputy's room. The man himself was sitting on the sofa, enjoying a glass of scotch with their new 'friend' Peralta.
"Ah, yes, Five." The deputy looked at her as she approached the duo. "Status?"
"Mission accomplished, sir."
"FUCK YES!" Peralta smacked his hand on the sofa, his gold tooth peeking from behind his grinning lips. "TAKE THAT, YOU FUCKING BITCH! NO ONE MESSES WITH A PERALTA!"
Neither of them said anything as they watched the man cherish his victory. They knew that for some reason, the man held a huge grudge against Zero, and no matter what they said, he wouldn't tell them what it was.
Most likely Zero had crossed him in the past, fucked his wife, or killed someone in his family. Who knows? Zero always had a convoluted sense of self regarding the missions anyways. To him, it didn't matter what you did as long as the mission was completed with the least amount of casualties.
"Casualties?" The deputy asked her once more.
"All of them." She looked down. "We haven't recovered everything, but we do know that Plan B had been executed inside the theater. None of them survived the blast."
The deputy gave a nod at that: "That's why I told you to never take chances when it comes to him. That man was enough for a small team even when he was cornered and he didn't even have any equipment on his person due to the nature of the assault." He sighed, taking a small sip from the glass. "Did you check the body cams?"
"Our team is still recovering the footages, sir." She nodded, "We have contacted the cops and have already sent the recovery team to the carnival. You will have a full report of the incident and the casualties by tomorrow morning."
"If you don't know what actually happened, then how do you know that he is actually dead or not?" Peralta asked her. "For all we know, he would have hidden himself and then scampered away like a fucking rat."
"The theater was locked from all the sides, Mr. Peralta, and if, by some miracle, he managed to survive the blasts, then he wouldn't have been able to survive the aftermath as the entire theater collapsed on itself, crushing everyone inside it."
"Hmm…" Peralta released a deep breath. "I guess I am just giving him too much credit, eh?" He grinned. "Well, then, cheers to our victory!" He raised his glass and took a large gulp.
Five didn't say anything to the fat man; her focus was on the deputy, whose mind was clearly concentrated on something else. Finally, after a few seconds, he looked back at her. "Send the complete report to me as soon as you can." He waved her off after that.
The agent sighed in relief when the gate closed behind her. She took a deep breath and changed her path from the surveillance room to her personal quarters. She needed some time alone to digest the fact that Zero was finally dead and that she was finally all alone in the world.
She walked through the 'A-agents' hallway, which went from the now deceased A7's room to A1, who was currently on a mission in Germany. She placed her hand on the panel beside her door and waited for it to scan her fingerprints before the door opened for her.
The redhead went inside and fell unceremoniously on her bed. Finally letting go of all the emotions that she had buried in her heart, releasing everything and every memory that she held close to herself.
Her eyes started to feel heavy as her vision was clouded with tears that slowly rolled down her cheeks. She still didn't know why she was crying. After all, she hadn't been anything more than a student to him. Just another one of the newbies who were charmed by his easygoing personality and clung to him for protection in the new and violent environment of the agency.
Hell, that man had betrayed the agency a few years ago, and that had been the last time any of them had any sort of contact with that guy. They had presumed he had died and had closed his file.
'In fact, if it wasn't for Peralta, then we wouldn't have even known that Zero was not only alive but was also working as a hired merc in Britain.' She thought, remembering the easygoing smile of the blonde agent who had been introduced as the mentor of their batch when she had been a newbie agent with no rank.
It was at this very moment when something weird happened.
There was a small, quite feeble, vibration that came from one of her bedside drawers. She opened her eyes, frowning at it as she opened the drawer and brought out her phone. It was a surprise because of the fact that the phone had finally rung for the first time since it had been given to her when she had joined the services.
All the agents got a phone; they didn't know the numbers and were told to always keep it ready if the agency needed their services for a more private mission. For the last decade, she had kept it fully charged and active, but it was the first time that the phone had actually rung for her.
Five waited for a few seconds before she finally received the call and spoke, "First Squad, Agent Five."
There was a beat of silence from the other end before the voice came, "Hello, Vanessa." Her eyes widened in shock when she heard that name; there was only one man who knew that name, and he should've been dead by now.
"I know you know who I am." He spoke with a certain amount of seriousness that had rarely been observed in him. "Therefore, instead of wasting any more of our precious time, it'd be much better if you just told me the name of the person who funded the team to be sent after me and my family."
"Ze-Zero?" She stuttered.
The shock from their first near-death experience had almost dulled them into soulless husks who didn't know what was going on around them.
Maya and her daughter hadn't even bothered to leave Atlas' home even when the man had left them to get some food from the outside since neither of them was in the mood to cook anything.
The guy had been quite shocked when he went to get his spare tools to remove the metal handcuffs and instead learned that his tools had already been switched for school books inside his work briefcase. It was only after some forceful prodding that the kids revealed how they had made a fake work briefcase and exchanged everything inside it for the carnival.
He had been quite furious with them till they revealed the reason for doing so. In the end, Maya had talked him out of his anger and had made them promise to never touch his work briefcase ever again.
After that, Harry and Jessie had left to go to the former's room, the poor girl immediately falling asleep after crying for almost half an hour. She was the only one who had never faced any life-threatening situation and was therefore reasonably shocked after her first one.
Maya, on the other hand, was sitting on the living room sofa, just staring blankly at the wall as the day's events went through her head. She had nearly lost not only her life but also her daughter's and Harry's as well, and if it wasn't for whatever miracle that saved them all, then all of them would have been dead by now.
The thought pushed forward another, more important one that she really needed to know: What was the miracle? Who was responsible for it?
Neither Harry nor Atlas had said a single word about the incident, preferring to busy themselves with their work instead, as Harry had almost immediately left for his room while Atlas had left the house for some 'work'. She knew that they were hiding something from her, but she didn't know what it was or why they were hiding it.
The door was opened, and Atlas announced himself, "Alright, folks! Who's up for some good old fish and chips?" He walked in through the living room door and went towards the kitchen to transfer the items from packets to plates, which he came out with about five minutes later.
"Harry, Jessie!" He announced, standing at the foot of the staircase. "Come dow–"
"Jessie is sleeping." Harry interrupted him as he made his way down.
Atlas shrugged and followed his kid towards the living room, where they each took a plate and sat on the sofas.
"So...just so you know, I contacted some tow-truckers and they've agreed to bring back our car from the carnival." Atlas began, "We'll have our car by tomorrow evening, and if anyone asks how we survived we'll just say we went out through one of the back exits, alright?"
The two didn't say anything and just gave a small nod. There was tense silence as none of them spoke a word after that. The men were content to just focus on their meals while Maya was still lost in her own thoughts about what had happened today.
"Maya, it would be better if you finished it right now; it probably won't taste good later." The merc pointed out and gave a smile when she picked up a fish stick.
At first none of them wanted to say anything, content on finishing their meals in the awkward silence even though it was suffocating them, but soon enough all three of them realized that they couldn't carry on with it since it was something that they needed to talk about.
"Alright, let's get it over with." The blonde sighed, putting his plate down as he looked at his son. "Harry, I'll not bullshit with you. You are intelligent enough to understand, and since I am respecting your IQ, I expect that you would respect mine too and not try to make some stupid excuses. Understood?"
Harry didn't give a verbal answer, but he nodded. He knew what was coming; after all, why wouldn't someone ask about the absurd thing that, quite literally, brought them home alive, right? Hell, even he would have wanted to know about it if it weren't for the fact that he was the absurd thing.
"First things first, I would like to know your thoughts on taking that man's life."
"ATLAS!" Maya shrieked only for the merc to raise a hand to stop her.
"Tell us, Harry." He continued, "How do you feel right now?"
Harry didn't take much time to answer; after all, there wasn't much to think of anyway. "For some reason, I don't feel anything." He shook his head in the negative. "That guy would've killed me and my family. If I have to do it again to save us, I will."
"You don't feel nauseous, ugly, or like you're worse than scum on earth?"
"I do, but then there's this voice in my mind that says if I didn't do what I did, then we wouldn't be here today." He sighed. "It was either him or us, and I chose us. Also, it's not like I wanted to actually push him into those tubelights, you know?" He continued. "All I wanted was to push him away; I don't know why he ended up going through the screen and crashing into those lights and wires."
There wasn't much to say after that. Harry's reasoning was actually simple and showed that it was nothing more than a fortunate accident. Not to mention that the boy was clearly not the first guy who accidentally killed someone at that age. Atlas, too, had dirtied his hands by the time he was eight. To him it was like a race for survival. Him or the enemy, and he always chooses himself over any enemy that comes in his way.
That didn't mean he supported what Harry did, and he would have immediately taken his kid to a psychologist if not for the fact that they couldn't prove anything regarding the whole ambush and how they actually escaped it.
Therefore, he decided that for now it was better to just drop the matter and keep on observing Harry for any psychological changes that might harm him or anyone else in the future. Right now there was another issue that needed to be addressed.
"With your reaction, or the lack of it, I can safely presume that you already have an idea as to what happened in that theater, right?" He asked and saw the boy nod again. "Good. Now, listen carefully, I am not blaming you or anything; I am just curious about it because throughout my career as a merc, there was only one time when I actually came across a person who could...somewhat do what you did back there. Genuinely I was quite curious as to how he did it, and so I pestered him till he finally revealed it to me."
The merc leaned forward and looked straight in his kid's wide green eyes. "Tell me, Harry, do you know what you did back there?"
Harry gave another hesitant nod.
"Was it…" He looked at Maya before looking back at the boy. "Magic?"
Maya's eyes widened in shock; she looked at her longtime friend, trying to see if the man was kidding or if he was actually serious. When he didn't even crack a smile, she looked at Harry, who was watching both of them with something akin to fear in his eyes.
"Ye-Yes." Harry nodded. "It was magic."
There was a pregnant pause at the kid's declaration, and she half expected the father-son duo to jump out of the sofa, point their fingers at her, and shout 'HA! GOTCHU!' but nothing like that happened. Neither of them moved, and Harry's face looked worse than before while Atlas calmly leaned back in his chair.
"How long have you known that you could do magic?" He asked the boy, who shrugged.
"A few years."
"I see." The merc continued, completely ignoring Maya's outrageous reaction. "And why is this the first time that I am hearing about it?"
Harry hesitated a bit before he whispered, "Be-Because three years ago it was magic that led us to meet in that forest." He looked at both Maya and Atlas, "and I didn't want to meet another Atlas in another forest."
The implication was quite clear. The boy had been afraid that if he accidentally showed them magic, then they'd also kick him out like his former guardians because he was 'not normal'. Atlas slumped in his seat while tears filled Maya's eyes as she sprang from her seat and tightly hugged the scared kid.
"Nothing will ever be strong enough to separate us, Harry." She tightened her arms around him. "Magic or not, I am not leaving you alone, and neither would Atlas. We'll always support you through everything. Understood?"
For the first time in the three years that Harry had joined them, Maya heard sniffles coming from him. His arms slowly wrapped around her neck as the boy finally let go of all of his holed-up emotions and fears of being abandoned once more. The woman just held him close, rubbing his back as she looked at Atlas, who nodded.
"Alright, kiddo, like Maya said, there's nothing in this world that would ever separate us." He told them. "Definitely not the thing that prevented us from becoming roasted chicken today." He grinned as Harry cracked a small smile.
"This also means that none of us have any idea about magic and what are its dos and don'ts." He sighed. "All I do know is that back then my associate said something about being trained as a merc wizard, which, at that time, I thought was a fucking stupid thing, as why would anyone become a merc if they could actually be a goddamn wizard, right? Well, he was one, and now I don't know what to do with your ability."
"You can always ask him, you know?" Maya suggested, "You said he was trained, right? That means there are others like Harry and your associate who train people in becoming a wizard."
"Hmmm...that's a possibility." Atlas nodded. "Why didn't I think of that before?"
"No need to burden yourself with thoughts, Atlas," Maya smirked at him. "We all know that if brains were taxed, you'd get a refund."
"Harry, do you think we are becoming a bad influence on our sweet and innocent Maya?"
Harry just shook his head, "Talk about yourself, old man, I can never be a bad influence." He grinned when Maya kissed his cheek, going as far as to wink at Atlas who grumbled something about lucky midgets.
"Anyways." Atlas waved off before he looked at Harry. "So what do you say, kiddo? Want to meet another one like yourself?"
The wide grin he got in response was all the answer he needed.
The door was opened, and a figure clad in a grey three-piece suit calmly walked inside the opulently decorated double-story room. He closed the large doors behind him and took a seat on the sprawling sofa. He carefully placed his briefcase on the gold-engraved glass table and surveyed the gaudy room that was filled to the brim with almost every expensive commodity that a man could dream of.
The room was craftily littered with vases, statues, and paintings that had been placed at equal intervals. The mirror ceiling that was shaped like a dome over the room reflected whatever happened inside the four walls.
The floor was covered in a magenta carpet with furs. There were large doors at the other end that opened into the balcony on the thirty-seventh floor. There was also a personal bar in one corner that was filled with several brands of old whiskey and wines.
Overall, the entire place screamed richness and taste that one develops through profound use of money.
The man looked at his reflection, smiling as his green eyes traced his new facial features before he calmly leaned into the sofa and opened his briefcase that was filled with stacks of papers that he started arranging on the table.
After a few minutes, one of the other doors opened, and vapor as well as a distinctively soapy aroma flooded inside the cold room, along with a huge man who was humming to himself. His bath towel barely clung to his rotund physique, its knot hidden under his paunchy stomach. The new man's eyes fell on the one in the grey suit, and he frowned a bit.
"Who are you?" He frowned at the man as he donned a bathrobe to cover himself.
"Good evening, Mr. Peralta." The man smiled. "I am Talas Smith, an agent who has been sent by my boss to collect a few dues."
"Dues?! What does?" Peralta inquired as he went towards the smiling man. "And how were you even allowed inside the suite? Wasn't there anyone outside that stopped you?"
"There were a few men, yes, but they weren't strong enough." Talas went inside his coat and pulled out a few photos. "I assure you that it was quite easy to convince them to allow me inside." He showed the photos to Magnus, who was shocked to see all of his men knocked unconscious.
"What do you want?" Magnus knew that the man was dangerous and would probably not hesitate to hurt him either. His eyes flickered towards the bar, and he started to calmly walk towards the small safety gun that was hidden inside one of the lockers.
A soft click behind him brought him to a halt.
"Ah, ah, Maggie." Talas interrupted, "Another step and you'll be one limb less. Now carefully turn around and walk back."
Magnus did as he was told and sat a few meters away from his guest. He glanced at the gun that was trained at him, taking note of the silencer that was placed around the muzzle.
"What do you want?"
"Sign these papers." Talas forwarded a stack of papers and gave him a pen. "Don't bother reading these; you have to sign these anyway."
"What do these papers say?" He asked as he picked up the pen.
"That you're donating half of your wealth to a charity for children, transferring a few million into a bank account as compensation for what you did to them, and a few more knick-knacks." He waved it off. "Now, sign it off."
"Are you fucking mad?!" Magnus jumped out of his seat, "WHY DO YOU—FUCK!" The billionaire screamed as he fell back, his eyes widening at the bleeding gunshot wound that was in his left knee.
"Now, are you going to sign the papers, or should I remind you that you have three more limbs and a few more joints that I could use for my target practice?"
Magnus groaned in pain, his eyes filled with tears as he looked at the man who was smiling as if he hadn't just shot him a minute ago. "Why are you doing this? What are you getting from this?" He cried. "If—if it's money, then I-i can pay you ten times the amount you're being paid to do this."
"It's not money, Maggie." Talas smiled, his hand moving towards the back of his ear as he peeled off the mask.
Magnus' eyes widened in absolute shock as an intimately familiar face came from behind the mask. "At...Atlas?!"
"Please, Maggie," Atlas smiled, his blue eyes glinting with malice. "Don't ask for autographs now."
It was after two weeks that Atlas called Harry downstairs and introduced him to a man with distinctively Asian heritage who also had what looked like a long blade by his side. The two were laughing about something, and when he approached the sofa, the introductions were quickly done by Atlas.
The new guy was Wang Mùyáng, an associate and fellow merc who sometimes worked with him on missions given to them by the organization that they worked for.
Mùyáng was a man who looked to be in his mid-20s, but Atlas told him that he was actually in his late 30s, which was a surprise. He was a simple-looking guy who could easily blend in with the crowd. He had beady black eyes that seemed to see beyond what a normal human should and short, cropped, jet-black hair.
The only things unique about the Asian merc was the large tattoo on his forearm that showed a snake baring its fangs, and a black leather trenchcoat with a silver dragon sewed on it.
"Mr. Carter, eh?" Mùyáng forwarded his hand, "Nice to finally meet the miracle kid who saved this idiot's sorry arse."
Harry shook hands with him, carefully noting the small scars on his hand and the callousness of his palm.
"Miracle kid?" He asked the two, "A bit more creativity, please. And I was saving the ladies. He's just a bonus; otherwise, who else would pay for my stuff?"
Wang looked at Harry for a moment before he burst out laughing, "Good kid. I like that."
With the ice broken, Harry joined the two mercs on the sofa, carefully listening to the mission that the Asian merc had just returned from. Apparently, just like his dad, Wang Mùyáng was also a high-profile name in their line of work and was often sent overseas for missions that were almost impossible for normal mercs.
Why? Simple, he was a wizard and could easily bypass the Muggle cameras and guard patrols. The guy was the only one with a hundred percent mission completion rate and was almost considered a legend since, in his fifteen years of service, Mùyáng had completed nearly a thousand missions on his own.
"So, Harry, right?" Wang began, "Atlas here tells me that you are a wūshī as well. When did you learn about it?"
"A what now?"
"A sorcerer." Wang explained. "We call them wūshī in our language. Anyway, when did you first realize that you could do magic? Anything that you could remember?"
Harry looked at Atlas, silently asking him if he should tell about his past experience, and the blonde gave a reassuring nod. There was no need to hide anything from the guy since Atlas had already told him parts of how he first met Harry and what made him raise the boy as his own.
"I didn't realize it was magic." Harry began, "At first things just happened around me, like….I didn't even know why they happened. I just wanted something to be near me, and suddenly it'd be in my hand. If I wanted a certain thing in a different color, the next moment it'd happen as well. I remember that one time I just wanted to get away from some place, and then there was this warm feeling, and then for a moment everything vanished before I stood on the terrace of my school."
"Apparition magic at such a young age is rare." Wang mumbled appreciatively, "You must be a powerful wūshī."
"It is what saved us as well." Atlas interrupted them. "One moment the guy was going to shoot me, next I was in front of my family, and then there was that scene with the grenade when we suddenly appeared in the house."
"You really apparated three others with you?" The Asian's eyes were almost saucer-wide. "That takes a lot of power, Harry. I'd have given you my katana if you were my kid." He said, pointing at the sheathed blade that was kept beside him.
"Err…thanks?" Harry hesitated. He didn't know it was that big of a thing; after all, he just wanted everyone to be back home. Then there was the fact that no one had ever thanked him for using magic since the usual reaction to anything unusual was shock from others and punishments from the Dursleys.
'Although, a blade like that would be so badass to have!' He thought, as his eyes traced the decorated sheath of the katana.
"Can you do something else?" Wang asked him, a bit amused when he saw the boy's fascination with his sword. At the end of the day, it was a ritual for every boy to be fascinated with a blade at least once in their life.
Harry once more looked back at Atlas before he took a deep breath and raised his hand. He closed his eyes and concentrated a bit before he felt the flickering warmth in his palm. There was a small gasp, and he opened his eyes to look at his dad's shocked face as the two watched a small flame dance in the center of his hand.
"Good job, Harry!" Mùyáng clapped his hands before he snapped his fingers, and the small flame was extinguished. "That was good. You will definitely become a strong wizard when you grow up." He then turned to look at Atlas. "With magic as strong as that, it's even more imperative that Harry should be trained on how to use it. Otherwise the power would end up going out of proportion before it either turns him mad or eventually becomes the reason for his death."
Harry was confused as to what Mùyáng had told them and the way his dad reacted with a small sigh of his own as if he was a bit troubled regarding what to do.
"What happened, Dad?" He asked, "Everything alright?"
Before Atlas could've replied, Wang cut in between, "You have potential, Harry, and that too, lots of it. Potential that, at best, would be wasted if you keep going to your current school, and at worst would become the reason for your madness or death."
Harry looked at his dad, who gave a resigned nod signifying that what Wang was telling them was absolutely true.
"So what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to train your magic. Learn how to control it so that you could control your powers and use them for good rather than let them consume you."
"That's all good, but there's a small problem, Mr. Wang." Harry told him. "I don't know how to do that."
"Through schools, obviously; how else would anyone train their magic? Schools." Wang shot back. "There are magical schools all over the world. There's one in Britain called Hogwarts, if I remember the name correctly."
"Really?" Both Harry and Atlas were shocked. "Why haven't I heard of this?"
"That's because magicals and muggles don't mix." Wang shrugged. "If Harry had been a Muggle, that's non-magical folks, by the way." He immediately clarified. "So, if the boy was a Muggle, then we wouldn't be having this conversation. Since he's a sorcerer and you're his guardian, it's alright for you two to know about it. Make sure that no one other than you knows anything else."
"Uhh…Maya and Jessie were there as well." Harry admitted hesitantly, "And Maya kind of knows that I have magic."
"Then include them, but no one else. Alright?" He added. "Now, the schools keep their locations secret, so no one other than the staff or the students attending them really knows where other schools actually are."
"So if you don't know their locations, Mr. Wang, does it mean you weren't taught there?"
"Call me Wang or Mùyáng if you want, and no, I didn't go to either of these." He replied. "I went to the Chinese Magical School; it's called Lóng zhī pínghéng Yìshù yū mófâ, or better known as the Dragon School of Balanced Arts and Magic."
"That latter was much better." Harry commented offhandedly. "So, where's this located?"
"Like I said, I can't tell that unless you're a student of the Dragon." Wang grinned. "And I highly doubt that you'll become a student of my school."
"Why so?"
"Well, firstly, you're British, and almost all the magical kids born in Britain are registered in Hogwarts records. As far as I know, they send a letter of acceptance when you reach your thirteenth, so there's still time before you go to a magical school."
"What if I don't want to go to this…Hogwarts?"
"There are other popular magical schools like Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Ilvermorny." Wang counted on his fingers. "Each of them is quite popular around the world, known for being grand and flashy. You could go to these if you want."
"...and here I thought that Hogwarts was the one with the weirdest name." Harry quipped, getting a small chuckle from Wang and Atlas.
"So, it's all up to you, really." The merc continued. "I don't know about how to contact other schools, but I can ask my school friends if you really want to check other schools."
"Tell me about yours." The younger mage prodded. "At what age do you accept students, and what do you teach?"
"My school starts accepting when a child is nine years old instead of thirteen, which is when Hogwarts and Beauxbatons accept their students." Wang nodded. "Dragon is a simple school surrounded by mountains, forests, and natural lakes. We have a large imperial hall and fifteen pagodas around it. We aren't flashy like those big names, and we don't offer that many courses either, but students of the Dragon are way more efficient than any other."
"How so?"
"That's because after you are accepted, you are taught basic skills for the first three years. After which you will be asked to consult with your guardians and the professor in-charge of your house regarding the fields that would benefit you if you decided to pursue them. Then throughout the next six years of your stay, you will only be offered selected courses that would train you so that you excel in the field that you've chosen."
"What if I realize that the field I choose wasn't for me and that I should choose another?"
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that." Wang smirked at Harry's confused face. "Atlas here tells me that you are quite fascinated with our line of work? Something about wanting a 'cool job like my dad'?"
"Wang…" Atlas warned his friend, who ignored it completely.
Harry's eyes momentarily widened in surprise. "You offer that?"
"Shut your mouth, you fucking dim sum!" Atlas jumped at Wang only for the guy to kick him in his face.
"Where do you think I learned all the stuff that I know?" Mùyáng Wang threw a proud smirk at the fallen blonde before he leaned forward and whispered. "The Dragon is one of the finest trainers and suppliers of both Muggle and magical assassins."
It was all the motivation that the little boy needed. Atlas gave another groan when he saw how his son had fallen hook, line, and sinker, and he knew that there was nothing in the world that would stop his kid from joining Dragon and becoming a merc. He looked back at his friend, who gave him a small wink.
'After I am finished with Peralta, I am SO going to kill you, Dim sum!' Atlas thought as he slowly took his seat beside his son, who was excitedly asking about the Dragon School of Balance and Magic.
⁂
It would be almost a year later when Albus Dumbledore would one day wake up in his usual jolly mood. The aged headmaster would have his meal in the great hall, welcoming all the professors who would be returning from their vacations to begin the new school year.
He'd whistle his way through the corridors of the ancient castle and then enter his office. The man would then pick up the ancient tome of Hogwarts student registry to check on all the students who'd be joining Hogwarts in a month as the new first-year batch.
Out of curiosity he'd turn a few pages and check through the 'P's only to drop the ancient tome in absolute shock.
There, in the list of 'P's, a name would have already been struck off by the magical registry quill, and there would only be a single thought that'd cross his mind at that time.
'Harry Potter is….dead?'