Title: Living the Dreamer's Sight

Author: P.L.S.

Rating: I use the Salsa System to rate my fics as opposed to the U.S. film rating system. This fic is rated Medium to Hot off the store shelf due to language, actions, and some violence. Basically more PG-13 than R but some parts are more R than PG-13. I say that if you can watch the movie X2 or read Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix you can read this.

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men nor do I own Harry Potter. If you think I do, go get a straitjacket and lock yourself up.

Summery: Harry becomes the servant of the goddess Nemesis in order to kill Voldemort and it works, but with that wrong righted he is put into a slumber until needed again to avenge wrongs against a whole people or race. He is awoken and finds himself in a world where mutants are being persecuted and a worldwide civil war is about to erupt. He sees the victims, but are they the only victims in this prewar? Who is he supposed to avenge and why? X-Men - Harry Potter crossover (set after the movie X2.)


December 24th, 2055- Burlington, Vermont


It was too blasted cold to still be the UK. Harry pried open his eyes and saw that he was curled on a bench outside a bus depot in a very white covered town. He was in the same tight faded gray ribbed t-shirt, baggy and patched jeans and ratty old white and blue flannel button up that he wore to the last confrontation he had with Voldemort and his bloody Death Eaters. His boots were gone, the dragon hide was replaced by some kind of beat up brown leather boots with squared off and off-colour metal covered toes and no laces. He was using a thick brown canvas trench coat with some furred lining as a blanket and had the scarf that Luna had given him under his head as a pillow along with a tan knapsack under that.

Harry sat up and frowned, the flag flying overhead told him he was in the States or at least near one of their Embassies. He wrapped the scarf around and put on the coat and buttoned all the buttons. In the bag he found thin knit gloves that had the tips cut off, his wand, a set of black sunglasses that he put on to stop from being blinded from the snow, his Book which Hermione made for him, a hunting knife, a six inch switchblade, a small Firestar handgun with detachable laser sight and silencer which he knew how to use (it was already enchanted for unlimited ammunition which would respond to changing the type in accordance with his need), papers that identified him as a British citizen with a two year visa, a lot of funny green notes in increments of ten, twenty, fifty, and a few in a hundred, a few credit and bank cards with PIN numbers on the paper sleeves they were stored in, a funny tablet computer, some batteries for it, an instruction book on the tablet, and a bus ticket to from Burlington, Vermont to Albany, New York.

Christmas Eve and he was in another country, more than twenty years from the last day he could recall, and sitting in a bus stop waiting for a bus that was to come in another hour according to the thick black sports watch on his wrist. Harry sighed and took comfort in the fact that his name was still Harry, but now Harry Thomas. He took out the tablet and started fiddling with it, turing it on and playing solitaire, looking for files that Nemesis might have left for him to help him understand his position. Nothing, nothing but someone trying to get past his mental walls and occlumency. Harry sighed and pushed the mind away, then pulled back before any memories from the other could seep into his mind. He was a now a full fledged Fury, no mortal was going to just waltz into his mind without asking. He pulled out his wand and transfigured a few pamphlets into a wand sheath for his left arm and placed that and transfigured arm guards on in the grubby restroom he found to relieve himself and freshen up in. There were very few people around but Harry paid them no mind as he got a newspaper and read up on the current events.

What he saw scared him and reminded him painfully of his childhood. Mutants were splashed all over and played as the villains, but even to his oblivious mind he could see that there was more to this all. He frowned, put the newspaper away and started to look on the computer for information on mutants, and he found it. Thousands of kilobytes of information on this new turn of humanity, the persecution, the history, the current laws, the science behind it all, the movers and shakers of all sides of the subject, the points of view, the main places of conflict, and more than he could ever sit down and hope to read. He didn't stop reading until he reached Albany that night and had to find a hotel to bed down in. Harry went to bed exhausted and listening to CNN blather on about the new indecision of the president and his meetings with Senator Kelly, a mutant supporter, Professor Charles Xavier, a well known pacifist mutant, and Dr. Hank McCoy, a specialist in mutant genetics. It was all so unbelievable, but Harry supposed that if magic was possible, mutants were possible too.

He woke to CNN's international weather report and the sunlight pouring into his eyes through a crack in the drapes. Harry sighed and took a shower and called down to the front desk to see if he could have his clothes washed for him. The receptionist was so bored that she agreed and took care of the dirty set of clothes in exchange for a ten note. It took an hour and a half but she came back up with his warm dry clothes and a coffee for him. He thanked her and followed her to the desk to pay for the last night and a warning that he might be back at night and she assured him that he could keep the key and she would deal with it if he didn't comeback.

Harry walked out with all his worldly goods and a new newspaper and news magazine in hand. He had placed Notice-Me-Not charms on the weapons he had and was now wearing the gun at his hip, the hunting knife in his boot, and the switchblade in his pants pocket. The wand was still on his left arm and his arm guards were now resistant to most of the kinds of attacks that he could think of. He had turned the knit gloves into a fur lined leather but kept the exposed finger tips. He walked past the empty office buildings and store fronts, all decorated merrily and full of green, red, silver, and gold. Very few people were out, once in a while a car would pass him as he walked with no destination.

It was noon when he started to feel hungry, he walked for fifteen more minutes to find a convenience market with a small eating area to take advantage of. The food was greasy, old, and reheated so many times that it reminded him of rubber, at least the tea was fresh. The old woman behind the counter ignored him once he paid and he was thankful for that. It gave him more time to think about things and how he was to be of use to Nemesis in this new world. The tattoo of the flame consumed harpy on his right pectoral was brightly colored and painfully detailed, the sign that his task was urgent.

He felt the prickling of that legelmencer again as he was drinking his second cup of tea. He frowned and crept around the walls to ask what the mortal wanted.

+To ensure the safety of those who need protection.+ answered the other. The mind was being enhanced, helped by something, something of a techicalogical nature. Harry closed his eyes and felt along the energy of the thing, it was charged by something magnetic and bonded to the user by the two that built it. It wasn't that far away, not by flight if he had his Firebolt or was an animagus. He could apparate to the thing to investigate. He had never seen a thing made to enhance legemency to such extremes. The mind was already skilled, but to be connected to the world was almost obscene in it's arrogance.

+Who are you+ asked the other. Harry locked onto the other's mind, taking the location and the other things he'd need to know from the very well organized mind. He liked picking minds like that, it was easy as looking up a book in a well kept library. Harry took his tea, bought some cigarettes, a lighter, and left the shop. Ducking into an alley way he disapperated away to the location of the other.

He was in a large metal room frowning at the old man sitting with the helmet on.

I'm the one behind you. he said and the man gave a slight jump as he took off the helmet. He was impeccably dressed in Christmas colored suit and gave Harry a smile that gave him the look of a more innocent Dumbledore.

I see. The man had a very well bred voice and intelligent eyes that were trying to figure him out, Welcome, Mr. ?Thomas, Harry Thomas. said Harry, holding the tea in one hand and fingering the closed switchblade in his other. The man sighed and gave up on probing his mind.

Are you a teleporter? asked the man and Harry looked at him using his magic to aide him. The man was a pure muggle, not a wizard as he had assumed. He probed further, the man was a mutant, the famous Xavier, to be precise. Harry couldn't help the smirk.

Heavens, no. I am just an avenging spirit sent to do some work for the Lady I am indebted to. Harry said, Nemesis's Fury for the Case of the Persecuted, at your doorstep. he took a low mocking stage bow and gave Xavier a cool look, Does that help your understanding, Mortal Xavier who dares to take liberties with others that the gods themselves fear to use. The man now looked confused. Harry took the time to find out how it had been used and he found that there had yet to be a more disastrous weapon born of human minds and hands.

I have no idea what you mean. he said totally honest. Harry sneered at the bald man.

Fool. You think man was meant to do such feats as you do with this machine. This bloody hunk of misused junk has come close to decimating all the world's population of humans of every flavor, yet you persist in using it. Harry said in his coldest voice, he could feel the gods' rage at the audacity of humans and this was the crown of the many sins. Xavier's skin took on a pallor that made him look almost deathly in the odd light.

This is an important tool for my group. he said in a careful tone and Harry could see all the good it had done in Xavier's mind's eye. Harry nodded.

True, which is why I will allow it to exist until the need for such tools has passed. Harry said half wondering what had happened to him, he sounded like a cross between Snape and Malfoy. Instantly that calming voice that was Nemesis came over him, telling him that he was her Fury and that he was acting in the nature of her servant.

I see. , may I ask what you will be doing while here? asked Xavier and Harry sighed.

Buggered if I know. Nemesis is big on that whole freedom bit. I'm to choose the one to support. I know whose the big group I need to help, but who to go about it is something entirely different.


December 31st 2055- Westminester, New York

So what's your power? asked a rather blunt young lady with an odd drawling accent. Harry sighed, it was deemed by Xavier a good night to get to know his students. He had been spending his days learning the history of the place and the histories of the leaders of the current events. Xavier was pleasently accomadating and had an odd knack of making sure that he had both sides of the arguments well accounted for and presented fairly. Harry had a faint incling that it had to do with being a telepath, as his kind were called.

My gift is witchcraft and wizardry in it's more traditional forms, milady. Harry said coolly and the girl smiled.

Cool. Like wicca and fortune-telling? she asked. Harry rolled his eyes.

Great gods, is that what you children think of us wizards? Fortune tellers and a bastardized nature worship? Don't tell me that you think only hags ride broomsticks. He said wincing and the girl giggled.

Okay, I won't. she said, So what is a real wizard like then? Harry sighed and pulled out his wand, other teens started gathering around him.

Harry said with a whip and flourish. A large black hooded cobra erupted out of his wand point and Harry hissed out soothing comments and firm orders to climb up to wrap around his torso and left arm, This is just a parlor trick, but one that I prefer to use since among wizards the gift to speak with serpents and their ilk is rare and often thought poorly of. He gently petted the snake and vaniished her with a flick of his wand and a whispered word.

said a taller teen with light brown hair and icy eyes that half reminded Harry of Draco Malfoy, if he had some kind of functioning heart, What else can you do?It's magic, Mr. Drake. I really doubt there are set limits if one dares to forget about what the books say. Harry said and sat down on a bar stool, turning a bottle of their horrid sweet carbonated beverages into good old fashioned ale. Pop music was blaring in another room and Harry sighed as the smooth conjered drink went down, it had been far too long since his last drink, Humans are quite like magic in that respect. Always full of something that defies definition and reason, not that you'd want to restrict them. Life is more fun with a world full of wild it? asked a woman with dark skin and white hair. Harry locked eyes with her.

Forgive those that hurt you, or you shall hind yourself looking in the mirror feeling ten years older than you look, which will be twenty years older than you are. Forgive them and forgive yourself. And don't say it's fine for him to say that.' I did forgive those that hurt me, I forgave years of neglect, years of being used, years of being manipulated into a position where I could only give up my life and freedom to save those who I felt deserved a chance to live a full life. I'm still trying to forgive myself of deaths from my first year of life that I know I didn't cause but I feel that I did. Trust me, you need to forgive them and the woman in the looking glass. as he spoke, Harry let his mask slip to show her the pain and death that lived in him. She gasped as did the others who were paying attention.

I see. she said and looked away, I'll try. Harry's mask was back in place and he left the room where he killed the mood most effectively. As he moved on he observed the mortal inhabiants that called the manor house home or school. Most were insanly dancing to the music or making fun of those who danced. Some were more interesting but still jovial about the evening. Odd.

It was the first New Year's Eve that he had actually celebrated. In his past the night was overlooked or forgotten. Other than switching out a calendar he had never really cared about the two day holiday like he did about Christmas and Boxing Day. The American's didn't even know about Boxing Day other than in the vaugest terms, Xavier wasn't even sure why Harry asked about it until the Fury let him in to see what the day was about. Xavier had said it was a good idea but was one that had never been picked up by Americans.

He prayed that his next mission was some place where they served a proper high tea and didn't ask if Earl Grey was some noble-ish-y person thingy in Brit-Land', as one of the students did during the making of breakfast one morning when he was cursing as he tried to hunt up breakfast the muggle way before giving up and just conjering his morning meals from then on.

Yes, adapting to America was the hardest part for the saunchly british man. He was born in London, raised in Surrey, schooled in Scotland, and until he woke a week ago, never set foot off the islands that made up the United Kingdom and Ireland. The culture was just so crass and consumed in comersialism and being alike that Harry was sure that was where the problem lie. Everyone wanted to be the ideal, there weren't any popular minorities for years, even now the popular minorites were symbols of perfection. Harry balked at the idea that being underfed was a sign of beauty, after all he was starved as a child and it stunted his growth so much that while his genetics coded for a heigth of six foot two inches, he topped off at five foot eight inches. Most women were taller than he was, but it aided him in flying and in being underestemated in battle.

So kid, why are you here? asked a gruff man with salt and pepper hair that seemed to want to curl up into two horns on the sides of his head. Harry smiled as the man sniffed the air and gave him a jealous glare, And where did you find the good beer? Harry touched his wand to the man's bottle that was labeled Dr. Pepper.'

I may not be able to turn water into wine, but all the young men in my school learned how to turn juice and this soda stuff into ale. Harry said with a smile and the man took a swig.

Good trick. I may insist you stick around just for that. , and I'm only here until I figure out how I want this whole pre-civil war mess to end. It's my job, since I am a divine warrior sent by a goddess who thinks humans are screwing up far too much. Harry said and the man gave him an odd look.

Sounds like a crap duty.'Tis, but it's not the first time I've had to decide a civil war. I was kind of born under a few prophesies and weird stars that time though. That's how I ended up a Fury and serving the goddess , so you're here to study, figure out if you want to support the anti-mutants, anti-humans, or the neutral groups. Any clue what you want to do yet, kid?Not a one. I'm ready to lock them all up in a cage and drop a knife in the center of the interesting. I'll pop the popcorn if you make the beer. Harry had to laugh at the poor taste in the joke.

Goodness. Who'd be the bookie then. asked Harry and Logan smiled.

We'll get the one-eyed boy scout, the idiot's too noble to run with the money. said the man and Harry smirked.

Ah, Gryffindors,