Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Disney's Aladdin, Magic the Gathering, Worm, or any thing else you may recognize as being referenced (though bonus points if you can find the hidden reference to another franchise in this chapter).

Last Edited on 8-13-20 for spelling/grammar.

Chapter One

Harry couldn't believe the words that were pouring out of Dumbledore's mouth. He saw the man's mouth moving, matching what he was hearing. He even heard the tone of regret. Pressing his thumbnail against his index finger as hard as he could, he winced. Nope. Not dreaming. Bloody hell, I can't catch a break!

What mythical power am I supposed to have that Voldemort doesn't? Dumbledore must be completely nutters if he thinks it's 'love.' Damned old fool, I bet he doesn't even know how Voldemort survived a rebounded killing curse! he silently ranted as he walked the halls in a daze. Suddenly a plain wooden door appeared in the wall. What? Oh yeah, the Room of Requirement.

Shrugging, he opened the door and found a room filled with junk. "What the hell? How is this supposed to help me? Wait, the room becomes what I need it to!"

Stepping back out he paced the hall again. I need the Power He Knows Not! Harry mentally chanted while he paced. Another door appeared – this one was black stone carved to look like a panther's head and had glowing orbs for eyes. It tickled his memory for some reason as he pushed the door open. Inside on a simple stone plinth was a funny looking brass teapot covered in a layer of dust.

"Bugger – that's not a teapot, that's a bloody lamp! That's why the damned door looked so familiar, it's like that Aladdin movie they showed in primary on the last day of school!"

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the lamp and started wiping it clean with his bare hands. Blue smoke shot from the mouth of it, condensing in a tall red-skinned man wearing gold shackles and puffy black pants and black shoes. The genie was a good twelve feet high and glared at Harry as he stared up at him. The Genie's face was harsh, and he had long tusks coming from his mouth. He actually looked like a Japanese Demon Mask. His long black hair was pulled into a top-knot that was braided and he had wickedly sharp looking claws instead of fingernails.

"Five hundred years I was stuck in that damned lamp! It's about time someone found me!" The Genie swore – his voice sounding like his was gargling gravel. "Fuck you're short. Oh wait, one sec!"

Shrinking himself down, the Genie stood eye-to-eye with Harry. "I assume you know the drill, Green-Eyes?"

"Um, Three Wishes, no wishing for love, for you to kill, or to bring someone back from the dead?" he asked uncertainly – really wishing he could bring Sirius back.

"That's almost right, Master," the Genie spat. "You only get ONE wish. I can't make anyone fall in love with you, but I can provide you with a love potion so powerful it's permanent. I can't directly kill anyone, but I can bring them before you bound and helpless so you can kill them. Bringing people back from the dead is only something I won't do because it pisses her off. And trust me – having her pissed off at us is something. We. Do. Not. Want."

"How do I know this won't be a monkey's paw deal?" Harry asked.

The genie just smirked. "You don't. You had either be damned specific with your wish or hope I'm not completely pissed off at you. As it stands, I'm a little pissed off at the world right now because I've been stuck in that damned lamp for five fucking centures. But I'm not one to normally take my frustrations out on some poor kid unless he wastes my time with an inexcusable number of dumb questions or wishing for something he could get himself."

"So what's it gonna be?" The genie said – conjuring a chair and leaning back in it.

"Well, here's the deal, I asked the come-and-go room for 'The Power He Knows Not,' and it provided me with your lamp. Can I wish for The Power or for the knowledge to get The Power? I seriously doubt it's 'Love' like Dumbledore says-"

"Whoa-whoa-whoa. I heard some capitals in there. Why don't we start at the beginning," the genie said – summoning a cart with a TV and VHS player commonly seen in schools. The first tape he pulled out of nowhere was titled 'Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.'

"I have a feeling that we're going to be needing some beers as watch this," The genie said, making a bucket of ice and butterbeers appear. Together the pair watched a highlight reel of Harry's life. Every so often the Genie would point out how Harry was being played like a fiddle or how the adults in his life had completely failed him.

"How the fuck did no one notice how the walrus and giraffe treated you? There had to be magic involved."

"Dumbledore did say he had put protections around my house based on my mum's blood," Harry said bitterly.


"There's no way your meeting the Weasleys wasn't contrived by someone."

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore," the genie agreed.


"Yup. You were pretty much groomed to go into Griffindor."

"Groomed?" Harry asked in disbelief. "Do you really think Hagrid or Ron could lie to save their life?"

"No, but if Dumbledore is as powerful as he's made out to be, putting a half-giant under the imperious wouldn't be difficult at all."

"Fuck," Harry groaned.


"How the fuck is that man allowed around children let alone allowed to teach?"

"Probably lets the old man bugger him over a desk," Harry said drunkenly – getting the genie to laugh hard enough he fell out of the chair. "It wasn't that funny."


"Seriously is that bitch taking stupid pills? She should have at least checked on Fluffy's door even if you were making shit up!"

"Mate, she's got her head so for up Dumbledore's ass she must think his farts smell like roses," Harry answered.


"And it took how long for the Weasleys to check up on you?"

Harry just shook his head angrily.


"Did you seriously not think to send your owl when you were blocked from entering the platform?"

"I was only twelve. Piss off!"


"I'm calling it right here – Lockhart is a pedophile. I mean, look at him!"

This time it was Harry's turn to laugh hard enough to fall off his chair.


"And no one else figured out it was a basilisk based on the clues? Fuck, I realized what it was after the second attack!"

"Yeah I thought that was bullshit myself," Harry admitted. "Should've called the old bastart out on it."


"Words can not begin to state how much of a crock of shit this is. A pheonix will only answer the call of its chosen companion. Dumbledore must have tied a listening charm to you so he'd know when to send Fawkes."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Huh. Learn something new every day."


"Placing dementors along the route but not putting aurors on the train. Did they want students to be kissed?"

"Wouldn't bet against it," Harry agreed.


"Shabby clothes. Scarred face. His boggart is the full moon? That guys is definitely a werewolf. Dumbles must be a fucking crack head hiring that guy!"

"Yeah looking back on it, it was kinda obvious," Harry was starting to slur at this point.


"Seriously, you have a mass murderer after you and you choose to fuck off to the village? Did your mother drop you on your head?"

"Not my brightest moment," Harry admitted.


"How the fuck did he forget his wolfsbane? Why didn't Snape bring it with him? Did someone confound the pair?"

"The old bashtard shtrikesh again!" Harry really was starting to feel the butterbeers.


"Patronus at thirteen? Not bad, kid."



"Cornholius Fudgepacker there is definitely being paid to ignore all claims of Siruis's innocense."

Harry had no words he was laughing to hard trying to repeat 'Cornholius Fudgepacker' and failing miserably.


"Triwizarding Tournament? You got dragged into it, didn't you? And honestly, bringing back that cluster fuck? What a buncha dumb asses."

"No argumentsh from me!" Harry declared.


"My money is on Mad-Eye Moody being the one who put your name in – he as good as admitted how he did it!"

Harry just snored as he'd passed out at this point. The genie snapped his fingers and Harry was awake and sober.

"No more beer for you, kiddo. Have a cappucino."


"Wow you are a noble idiot. I mean, telling the kid about the dragon was just being a decent human being. But not taking the victory when he handed it to you – especially when you already knew the whole tournament was an assassination attempt."

Harry just hung his head in shame.


"For some reason watching that kid take a killing curse is really satisfying. Probably because he reminds me of an actor who was in a really shitty vampire movie I was forced to endure once."

Harry glared at the genie for that one.


"Annnnd of course Fudgepacker doesn't believe Tommy-boy is back. Politicians. Every one of them should be drowned in a cesspool."

"Cheers," Harry said with a smile as he imagined Fudge bring drowned in his own shit.


"Someone tried to assassinate you with dementors? The fuck, man?"

"Just wait until you see the bitch who ordered the hit," Harry said bitterly.


"Why didn't you claim you were being attacked by a boggart? Much more believable than Dementors and it's well-known that your boggart is a dementor."

"I... I have no words... that would have worked brilliantly!" Harry said in amazement.


"That bitch straight looks like a toad. I'm calling it right here – she's the one who sent the dementors after you."

"Yep," Harry answered – popping the 'p.'


"Really should have had a worse curse on that DA signup sheet, Granger."

"She really is too nice for her own good," Harry nodded.


"What part of that vision wasn't screaming 'It's a Trap!'"

"Oh fuck off, I was scared and no one told me I could be sent false visions!"

"Eh, you got a point there," The genie conceded.


"Six kids against almost twice as many adults. No way all of you should be alive."

"I'm not so sure Ron and Hermione will survive," Harry said sadly.

"They should be fine," the genie said dismissively before taking a long pull on his beer.

"Damn kid, your life is a shit sandwich. To answer your earlier question – yes, you can wish for 'The Power' he knows not. BUT it'll be up to you to learn how to use it. Unfortunately, Union Rules state that I can't tell you what it is or advise you any further than this. I can't even advise you how to word any wishes. Prophesies aren't exactly set in stone, but those who attempt to meddle with, circumvent, or try to force one to come to pass typically do not enjoy what happens."

Harry had been awake for over 24 hours by this point and when taking into consideration his OWLS yesterday, the escape from Hogwarts and Battle in the Department of Mysteries last night, and seeing five full movies worth of the highlights reel of his life – he was beyond exhaustion.

"Genie, I wish for The Power He Knows Not to awaken in me," Harry said tiredly.

"Granted," the genie said – crossing his arms and nodding his head. Harry felt like someone filled his body with dragon's flame. Tearing open his shirt he saw a glow coming from his chest and starting to spread through his body – the pain overwhelming and causing him to scream so loudly he ruptured his vocal chords.

Two seconds later Harry's body burst into a pillar of prismatic flames.

"Fuck me running, I didn't know the kid was a potential Planeswalker. I didn't even know I could ignite a 'walker's spark! I better hightail it outta here!" The genie swore – grabbing his his lamp and tossing it through a window that wasn't there just a second earlier before diving through after it.

It was a funny thing, magic and fate. Had Sybil Trelawny NOT been looking to get hired on as the divination professor, Tom Riddle aka Lord Voldemort would have been completely destroyed by a pissed off Witch-doctor fifty years after conquering magical Britain. Harry Potter's family would have been wiped out during the consolidation.

Had Albus Dumbledore had the interview with the woman in the castle, Harry have grown up loved by his family under the Fidelus at Godric's Hallow, and would have died to Voldemort's wand shortly after his twenty-fifth birthday. Voldemort would go on to rule the world for two centuries before what was left of his soul evaporated. There's a reason the world isn't overrun with Dark Wizards who trusted Horcruxes, after all.

Had Severus Snape NOT been in the Hogshead snooping around, or had he been kept from leaving with the fragment of the Prophesy he had heard, then Harry would have been raised by his Godfather, Sirius Black. He also would have grown up to become a complete twat and died that night in the graveyard as he had too high an opinion of himself. Amazingly enough, in that timeline it was Narcissa Malfoy who killed Voldemort once and for all. The Black Family Library has a handy spell for killing someone foolish enough to make Horcruxes.

Had Harry not stumbled across the Room of Requirement at that exact moment things would have happened much as they did in many other timelines as in each case Harry's spark never ignited and he would have had to do things the hard way.

Instead, his body was consumed and rebuilt by The Flames of Life and Death. Creation and Destruction. Order and Chaos. Creamy and Chunky. Oh wait, that's peanut butter. At any rate, the horcrux in Harry's scar was also burned up by these flames – causing the rainbow fire to jump to and consume the other soul fragments.

In another iteration of the Room of Requirements known as the Room of Lost Things, a gaudy tiara was consumed by the flames that quickly spread to and consumed everything in the room. This was repeated in a Gringott's Vault with a cup, a house hidden in London with a locket, a shack in the middle of the British countryside with a ring, a forest outside a manor with a snake, and inside the manor itself with the wizard who had cursed those objects.

Meanwhile, poor Harry was in a LOT of pain and his mind was under a barrage of information. Looking to escape from it he instinctively tore a hole in the fabric of the universe and stepped through – the hole closing behind him. While this extinguished the fire, Harry was now assaulted with the sights and sounds of an infinite number of realities. It was like listening to every song ever made and watching every TV show or movie ever made at the same time.

In a blind panic, he took a metaphorical running leap towards one of the worlds and found himself in a rundown alleyway surrounded by garbage. On the wall was graffiti of swastikas forming a stylized '88' inside an Eagle insignia that reminded him of a documentary he'd caught a glimpse of about Nazi Germany.

"I think I'll just pass out now," he groaned hoarsely as he collapsed naked in the trash.

Scion paused in the middle of putting out a wildfire in Africa as he sensed the presence of something new. The presence felt like another Entity but different. Unconcerned with the villagers picking up on his radiating curiosity and fear, he finished putting out the fire by causing the ground to lift up and smother the flames.

Once done he teleported above Brockton Bay and quickly found the alleyway where the newcomer had passed out. Standing over the newcomer, Scion noticed it appeared to be a human male roughly fifteen years of age – but every cell in the newcomer's body was barely minutes old and filled with a previously unknown source of radiation. He also could tell that it had the potential to become unbelievably powerful.

Radiating fear and curiosity powerful enough that it would start attracting attention, Scion wondered just how the newcomer could be used and whether or not it could even take a shard. But where had this newcomer come from? Scion could step between dimensions easily – but it was like he could only move left and right and this newcomer moved up and down.

Was it possible Scion could move in different directions metaphorically speaking? Shifting to the space between space, rather than moving towards a neighboring alternate Earth Scion did the equivalent of 'swimming upwards.'

That was painful and exhausting! The flesh of Scion's body was completely destroyed – freeing the Entity and leaving it feeling drained. As it was it could feel the connection to its shards weakening as it 'looked around' to see just where it was.

Had the Warrior needed to breath, it would have gasped at what it saw. There was an infinite number of Earths and they were constantly moving and shifting – and new realities were created every second! And many of them were completely unrelated to Earth Aleph before The Entities caused the split that created Earth Bet and all of the others!

This completely went against everything the Entity knew about multidimensional physics. The Warrior would have remained 'above' if it weren't for the connection to its shards was turning brittle and whatever this plane of existence was was slowly corroding its essence. Swimming back downward, it realized it was lost and just picked an Earth at random just as its connection to its shards shattered explosively – killing The Warrior.

As an interesting side effect of the exotic radiation caused by The Warrior's spectacular demise, that particular portion of the Mandela saw a sudden influx of people with super-powers – starting with a glowing newborn baby in Qing Qing City, China. But that has nothing to do with our story.

All over portions of the Mandala directly affected by the Entities' Cycle, precogs shuddered as the future violently shifted. The Simurgh cocked her head before moving to seek out her brothers. The cycle would need to be extended and humanity would need to survive for the next three or four billion years until another Entity could come to collect the Shards.

Harry woke a few hours later to the sounds of vice – less than twenty feet from him a hooker was bent over a stack of pallets while her client was taking her from behind. Harry quickly looked away, his cheeks bright red in embarrassment.

Hiding in the trash pile Harry realized several things. First, he was a Planeswalker and his spark had ignited just a few scant hours ago. His magical core was greatly expanded but no longer refilled like normal. Instead of drawing in a steady trickle of 'mana' from the world around him, he could pull in an entire day's worth of mana for short bursts of power.

While he remembered from his magical theory classes about powerful wizards using artificial constructions (like Stone Henge or ritual rooms) to access the power of 'leylines' he knew it would take them years to learn how to properly use a single land's worth of mana whereas he could use it instinctively and near instantly.

While he could still use his regular spells he'd learned at Hogwarts (assuming he had a wand), he also had access to far more powerful spells. Better yet, any spell, creature, or artifact he came in contact with he could learn to cast, summon, or create!

The problem was having enough mana to do what he needed. He could 'claim' mana producing lands just by being present – though depending on his personal affinity some would take longer periods of time to claim ownership of. Thinking about it, as a wizard his personal affinity leaned towards Blue and Red, with some minor ability to use White, Black and Green.

The second thing Harry had realized was that he was in a city called Brockton Bay that he could now tap for colorless mana. He also had a general overview of the city – important locations, general history, the language, patterns for conjuring the local currency, etc. Apparently the place had been nearly destroyed by something called The Behemoth a few years back and had never completely recovered.

And finally, he was completely naked and laying in a pile of trash. Looking up he also realized he didn't need glasses anymore as he could clearly see the graffiti on the wall opposite to him. Noticing that the sounds of sex had stopped, Harry waited for the hooker and her client to head back to the street before standing up. Happy that most physical objects could be created with colorless mana, he created a backpack filled with clothes as well as a stack of cash.

Quickly dressing, Harry stuffed some of the money in his pocket and buried the rest under the extra change of clothes in his pack. Exiting the alley way he made his own way to the street and tried to figure out where he was going to go from there. As he walked he wondered just how different this Earth was from his own. He had a strong feeling that his spark igniting had somehow killed Voldemort once and for all. I wonder what Hermione will say when I tell her? Oh Merlin – can I even find my way back?

Instinctively Harry knew Earth was part of a sphere called The Mandela – a multiverse within the multiverse. Infinite possibilities constantly splitting, growing, and decaying – like a twelfth dimensional kaleidoscope of variant Earths. Navigating that mess would be a nightmare. And to top it all off, any mana source from within the Mandela that he tapped for mana took a week to replenish instead of the normal twenty-four hours. Which was why 'walkers avoided this section of the multiverse completely – it was mana scarce!

Harry couldn't help but feel frustrated as his chances of finding HIS specific Earth from among the myriad number of possible Earths was slim to none – not without a mana source from his native Earth. Though if he left THIS Earth his connection to Brockton Bay could lead him back to this one.

If only I hadn't panicked and fled, he sighed. But to be fair, it was a bit like Dudley's computer freezing up and him mashing every key possible trying to get it work. In this case, I blindly stepped out of the world. Shite, by the time I get back to my Earth all my friends could already be dead. Though honestly the only ones I'll really miss are Hermione, Neville, and Luna. Ron was too much of a jealous git and Ginny was still making moon eyes at me – never mind she looks like my mum!

That thought brought Harry up short. Why would he not miss Ron or Ginny – or even think poorly of them? Then it hit him. Someone must have been feeding me loyalty potions keyed for Ron and low-grade love potions for Ginny! And when my spark ignited the potions got burned out of me!

Of course Dumbledore probably was behind that as well, given that the Weasley's were so blindly loyal to the man. That sodding rat bastard! I wouldn't be surprised if he had some mad scheme for me to put a bun in Ginny's oven right before I died fighting Voldemort! That way the family would be rewarded for their service!

Not that the Potters were rich – Harry only had so much money in his vault due to four reasons: The first was the payout for killing Voldemort. Second was people bequeathing money to him because he was the boy-who-lived. Thirdly there was the money from the Boy-Who-Lived children's and young-adult fantasy fiction books. Finally there was the money they ministry paid out to turn his family home into a public monument.

More now than ever Harry was happy he'd made a will back when his name had been chosen by the Goblet of Fire – Hermione was going to be in for a shock when she found out that she was his main beneficiary. Some gold was to be used to buy new brooms for the school, and a good-sized chunk (along with all money from future use of his image) was to be used to create a scholarship program for muggle-born.

Sitting alone in his office, Albus Dumbledore stroked his beard as he considered the reports Severus, Kingsley, and Alastor had just had just given him. Earlier that morning Tom had burst into flame and started a conflagration that consumed the ballroom of Malfoy Manor before snuffing itself. The fire had killed most of Tom's followers. Severus had barely escaped the prismatic flames.

An identical conflagration occurred in the woods near Malfoy Manor where Nagini was out hunting. What's more, is that a shack who's last known owner was Morfin Gaunt had burst into a powerful prismatic flames as well. Finally, Alastor had been at headquarters preparing for the Order to abandon the building when a fourth set of flames consumed the entirety of Number 12.

And all four infernos happened the same time that Harry Potter somehow vanished from the Come-and-Go Room in such a way that it nearly completely drained the wards. Dumbledore was coming to the conclusion that the Horcrux in Harry's scar was consumed by the prismatic flames – killing the boy in the process.

Dismissing the three order members, Dumbledore stood and went to his pensieve – replaying his memory of telling Harry the prophesy.

"Either must die at the other's hand," he mumbled as he wondered just how this fulfilled the prophesy. "Harry, what did you do? What was the Power and how did you employ it?"

Popping a lemon drop in his mouth, he sighed as the citrus candy started to dissolve in his mouth. "Clearly all of Tom's horcruxes were consumed by whatever ritual Harry did to kill Tom. With Harry housing a horcrux in his scar, it back-lashed and killed him as well. Poor boy. He should have come to me with his idea. I could have made sure he had a proper heir. At least this will prevent unnecessary deaths from the war going on."

Dumbledore knew he'd need to spin this the right way for the Greater Good. He'd have Tonks impersonate Harry for the train ride back to King's Cross – with the explanation that he'd already sent Harry back to the Dursley's for the summer. Kingsley could use polyjuice to disguise himself as Harry's uncle long enough for the two aurors to vanish into the muggle world. Then Severus could imperious some of Tom's sympathizers – perhaps Greengrass, Parkinson, and Umbridge - to attack the Dursley's home and kill the family. Then he could announce to the wizarding world that Harry had been kidnapped by Voldemort, and that he – Albus Dumbledore had single-handedly launched a rescue mission and killed the Dark Lord. But not before poor Harry had been killed.

The wizarding world would take to the story like a niffler to a sack of galleons. And the best part was there was no evidence to the contrary. After all, it wasn't like poor Harry would be coming back from the dead, was it?

And while he wished that he could have had Harry sire an heir on young Ginerva, Harry had left his wealth to Hermione and a little amormentia would see to the young muggle-born marrying Ronald. Once the Weasleys were flush with cash, he could see to getting their seat on the Wizengamot restored and the Light would have one more voice to speak up for it!

Harry had walked all day, slowly picking up bits of information here and there. He had stopped to grab breakfast and lunch at a couple of fast-food restaurants he'd never even heard of, and had also stopped at a library and used their computers to get an idea of recent history world-wide. Now he was at a place called the Boat Graveyard.

Reaching out with his senses, he felt both Blue and Black mana – which meant that he could choose one or the other. Granted, the mana was only accessible once a week but it was better than nothing. He would have to do a LOT of traveling if he was going to pick up enough mana to survive.

"Do I even want to stay here? This whole world looks like a complete shit-hole and there's nothing tying me here. Maybe I should move on," he wondered out loud as he felt the sun setting behind him.

"You aren't thinking of killing yourself are you?" a girl's voice interrupted. Harry could tell she felt uncomfortable with the situation.

Turning to look at the girl who couldn't have been older than himself, he could feel she radiated power and her pattern suddenly imprinted itself on his mind. One each Black and Green. She can control insects? Neat. Creepy, but neat.

"Hero or villain?" he asked curiously – even though she was in civilian clothes.

"Excuse me?" she asked worriedly before looking around – obviously worried about being overheard.

"Hero or villain? You control bugs, yeah?" Harry pressed on.

"Um, I haven't started dressing up yet. I just triggered recently. How did you know?" she hissed.

"Magic," Harry teased. "And to answer your first question, no I'm not thinking about suicide. I can travel between dimensions. Woke up in an Alley over in Empire territory this morning and spent the day getting a feel for your world. It's a shite-show."

"There's no such thing as magic," the girl argued. "And while I should be insulted, I can't really argue with you if your world is better than ours."

"Not really, my world was shite as well. Harry Potter," he introduced himself as he offered his hand.

"Taylor Hebert. So do para-humans on your Earth think they are magical?" she asked.

"We don't think – we know. We have dragons, unicorns, hippogriffs – all manner of magical creatures. We also have giants, goblins, and werewolves," Harry answered.

"Sounds nice... why'd you leave?" Taylor asked.

"It was nice. At first. Then I found out there was a prophesy requiring me to kill someone or be killed with some 'unknown power.' And I didn't leave on purpose. I ah, accidentally entered the Blind Eternities when I activated the power," Harry admitted. "On the plus side I'm pretty sure I killed the murdering bastard. On the other I don't think I'll see my friends again as there are a LOT of alternate Earths and I'm not sure I can find my way back without an anchor."

"Anyway, you didn't answer my question: hero or villain?" Harry said after a short pause.

"Hero. Well, I want to be. Still getting my costume together," Taylor said with a shrug.

"Oh this I've got to see," Harry said with a grin. "I've never met a real-live super hero."

"Um, it's at home. Do you wanna come see it?" Taylor asked shyly. She wasn't sure why, but she found herself liking the strange British boy. Her dad was working late that night so it wasn't like she needed to worry about bringing a boy home.

"Well I haven't got any other plans than finding a hotel room. And who knows, maybe I can use my own powers to give you and upgrade or two. Though that might take me a few days as I need to visit some mana sources," Harry said.

"Ohhhh-kay," Taylor said uncertainly as she lead Harry back to her house. "What are mana sources?"

"Oh. Right, well. I was born a wizard, but after my new powers awakening my magic is powered by 'mana' which I get by tapping the land around me. I only recently came into these powers but thank Merlin it came with basic knowledge on how they work. It takes about a week for the land to replenish it's energy – at least on worlds part of the Mandela, er, multiverse of Earths. There are other worlds outside the Mandela and in those places mana replenishes in about a day," Harry explained.

"Anyway, I can use my magic to summon creatures, create artifacts, and cast spells. I have a couple of enchantments I can layer on you to make you stronger and tougher. I should also be able to make you some sort of armored costume. I've only got access to two mana right now, and I spent one this morning creating some clothing since I woke up naked in an alleyway after I popped into your world. If I can get some traveling done, I'll be able to do a lot more."

"Sounds like an impressive bunch of powers," Taylor said after an awkward silence.

"Yeah, still getting a handle on them. Hopefully I don't run into anything I can't handle before then. Luckily I can still my wizarding magic – what little I'd learned at school – but I can't do that without a proper wand. And mine burnt up with my clothes when my spark ignited," Harry said sadly.

"Can you make a new wand?" Taylor asked as she unlocked the front door to her house.

Thinking back on his History of Magic classes and what he'd picked up about wand lore and his basic knowledge Harry got a thoughtful look on his face. "Hmm. I just might be able to."

Taylor let out a gasp of surprise as she entered the house. "Oh. Hi dad," she said nervously. "I thought you were working?"

"Someone screwed up the schedule so we had too many people on shift. I was the lucky guy who got to come home. Something you want to tell me?" Danny Hebert asked his daughter as he looked at the boy standing behind her.

"Just making sure Taylor makes it home safe, Mr. Hebert," Harry lied. Poorly.

"Uh huh. And what was this about 'making a wand?'" Danny asked.

"Er, probably should just bite the bullet and show you then," Harry mumbled as he held out his hand and started pooling blue mana into it. "I'm a wizard from another version of Earth. Taylor overheard me talking to myself about whether to hang around this Earth for a bit or just jump straight into trying to find my way home."

Releasing the blue mana, a beautiful hawk appeared on the coffee table in front of Danny who just gasped and fell back into his seat. "I've never heard of para-humans being able to do that," he gasped.

"Not a para-human. A wizard," Harry said with a small grin. "A little something else as well but I don't think 'Planeswalker' would mean anything to you."

"Okay, so you're a wizard. Why are you following my daughter home like a stray puppy? You aren't gonna, you know, magic us into doing things are you?" Danny asked worried – wishing he had a cellphone.

"What? No. Taylor was telling me about her costume and I told her I might be able to upgrade it for her after I'd done a bit of traveling," Harry stammered.

"Costume? What costume?" Danny demanded.

"Nice job, Harry!" Taylor hissed – getting pissed off.

"Err, you hadn't told him?" Harry asked Taylor nervously.

"Told me what?" "Harry!" the Heberts both yelled at once.

"Trust me - secrets are not good. Secrets killed everyone I ever cared about," Harry told Taylor before turning to Danny. "Your daughter is a para-human. She can control bugs."

Danny looked at his daughter worriedly. Harry recognized it as parental concern. Taylor saw fear and disgust.

"Your daughter wants to be a hero. Once I can gather the mana, I figured I'd power her up a bit more, make sure she has a chance to survive longer," Harry offered.

"Oh Taylor," Danny said in exasperation as he pulled his little girl into a hug. "You should have said something. What if something happened to you? I don't want to lose you as well – especially if I didn't know what happened to you."

"I'll just step outside, give you two a moment," Harry said awkwardly before exiting the house and taking a seat on the porch. He could just barely make out the sounds of a conversation taking place inside.

After nearly ten minutes, the door opened and Danny Hebert invited him inside for hot chocolate. "So what's your story?"

AN: So this little Plot bunny has been running rabid in my mind for the past several months (fighting a Harry Potter/Stargate/Star Wars X-over as well as a HP/SW and Star Craft/Stargate X-over for attention). Given that I work in the land of baked goods and can pretty much do my job in my sleep I have a lot of time for free-association thinking.

AN2: Inspiration for this story come from dogbertcarroll's 'With Sprinkles' (Story ID 12446027) and 'Phoning it In' (Story ID 11445356), Darth Marrs's 'The Simurgh's Son' (Story ID 12671206), with bits and bobs from other places that escape my mind at the moment.

AN3: I expanded the bit with the Genie watching Harry's life based on input from Dogbertcarroll.