Wizard with a Mutation : Chapter 25 : Possible Code Three

Disclaimer - The rights of the respective characters are with their respective owners. I don't mean to violate their intellectual property rights and thus, only my original characters are my IP. 

London, Magical Britain [1st November, 1980]

–Scott Winters–

His eyes snapped open as the alarm rang. His eyes widened as he remembered what had happened the previous day. He instantly sat upright, expecting some sort of backlash from yesterday but nothing happened. He instead felt very good, great even.

Still, his smile turned into a frown as he got out of the bed and looked at himself in the mirror. The same face he had seen all his life stared back at him and yet, it was like looking at something else, as if the face was just a mask with the real Scott being faceless behind that mask.

He shook his head to get rid of those thoughts. It was not right, he knew that. The memories of his previous life should not be affecting him and they weren't, at least not actively. He closed his eyes and found his mind to be the same, unaffected, at least not on a fundamental level. He was still the same Scott he was before he was exposed to the earth shattering revelations by Athena.

He would have to go back and apologise, to both Nathaniel and Athena, mainly because he still had some questions and also because it was rude to leave like that. 

He passed through the sphere of red that protected his mind, something that he now knew to be some sort of extra dimensional lasers from a nearby dimension. Essentially, his body was just a conduit for that dimension, allowing him to draw in a near unlimited amount of lasers, with the only cost being the fatigue experienced by his body.

'Just like Scott Summers.' He thought to himself as he saw the big ball of light that was fading as time went by, becoming smaller and smaller as larger parts of it were broken off, dissipating into the sky of his mindscape. It essentially meant that parts of that memory were being effortlessly assimilated by his mind, leading to more and more information becoming available to him.

Some of it was far more interesting than the rest, like the fact that Voldemort was fated to die? By the hands of someone who was probably still in his mother's womb right now? Voldemort dies exactly a year after today and he didn't know how to feel about that. A mighty Archmage, killed by an infant–no, that was wrong, as his memories told him.

Voldemort was not killed by Harry, no, Harry was merely the medium through which the magic was cast. No, good ol' Voldie was killed not by an infant but by a No-Maj with a power that even he did not know of.

"Oooh, that must have burned so much for the Dark families, to know that your supreme leader was killed by a woman whose very kind they were persecuting for all of their lives." He muttered as he began getting ready. He was going to have an absolutely massive breakfast because he was famished, probably from the high intensity magic session yesterday.

While getting ready, his thoughts drifted back to the type of magic that Lily Potter must have used, or rather, will use in this reality to kill Volde—

"Shit!" He cursed as he stumbled in the shower, the knowledge of the Horcrux finally registering in his conscious mind. Regaining his balance, he paced in the fairly spacious bathroom, "That madman," He muttered to himself, aghast at the revelation. "That f*cking idiot! He split his very soul? His source of magic?"

This was…bad. Making Horcruxes was not as easy as just waving a wand and casting the spell. NO, real, for a soul to break apart, a soul breaking energy was required and magic did not innately have the ability to create that.

So, the alternative to that, created by Herpo the Foul, for he was truly foul, was to use soul breaking energy from a recently deceased soul. It didn't end there. The soul that had died, had to die in despair, in agony and pain, for the soul to release enough quantities of that energy that was then used in the spell to split one's soul.

The soul was a very resilient thing and getting the energy necessary to split one's soul was not something that could be taken lightly. It could be considered a blight on all magic that has ever existed and wizards, both light and dark oriented would look at the spell and its aftermath with disgust, such was the potency of the spell in the Dark orientation.

"No wonder Lily was able to destabilise Voldemort so easily. The man had already forsaken most of his soul and with it, his humanity," He muttered as he got dressed up.

The timing meant that Voldemort probably already had multiple of these Horcruxes made and the only way to truly stop him was to let Lily Potter work her magic, and then locate and destroy the Horcruxes one by one.

He smirked at another piece of information that suddenly became available to him. He had no real frame of reference in the process of transferring information on such a large scale but the process seemed really convoluted for something that was not even going to be instantly available to him.

He now knew the rough locations of the Horcruxes, about 10-15 years from now. No guarantee that they would still be in those locations but he would check, once Volde Boy was released from his current mortal shell.

How would Lily Potter do that? He had no idea but he knew that he could not knowingly let two apparently upstanding wizards die just because he was incompetent enough to be unable to kill Voldemort himself. Nope, that was not happening.

If he were to let something like that happen, how would he ever look himself in the mirror, knowing that he would have done the exact same thing that he cursed Dumbledore for?

"Ah, right in time." He saw the timing and sat down on one of the tables as he arrived at 8.30 AM because the breakfast menu was limited to 9 AM and after that, another menu was initiated, the items of which were not that good.

"Get me freshly squeezed Orange Juice and some eggs, scrambled." he gave the order and quickly pretended to read a book he'd bought from the States, titled "How to overcome dumminess inherent in all Dummies." 

It was just a dummy book, designed to be used by him just in case he needed to pretend to be busy and focus on something else. It had many useful enchantments built into it, such that if someone else were to peek at it, it would show some random story or essay but to him, if he wanted to, it would show him exactly what he had written.

He didn't even need to change the pages since it would read his intent and show him the pages the enchantments could find. It was not always perfect but it was getting close, and the nerds at MACUSA informed him that the next iteration should have a 95% accuracy rate as opposed to the 80% of the current generation spybook.

He dove back into his mind and saw that only a small bright ball was left, with most of its outer shell being peeled off layer by layer until nothing remained. He looked around and saw the grass at the base of his mountain, all covered in little motes of light, which were quickly disappearing into the grass as his mind continued to absorb the information inside.

Satisfied with what he saw, he exited his mindscape, just in time as well as he saw the juice being squeezed right in front of him.

That was…unnecessary but still, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Taking a sip, he was about to mentally recite the thoughts that he wanted written in the spy notebook when it buzzed. He blinked in confusion since it had never done that before, in the three years he had it.

He loved the colors and the faded leather finish it had so he just gave the book back, after explicitly telling them that they could only touch the internals and most of it would remain the same.

His brows furrowed as the book began getting warm, uncomfortably warm in his hands as it continued to create a slight buzzing sound. Not wanting to gather attention, he quickly set it on the table and began tapping on it, hoping that it might work like the tablets the world will have in about 25 years.

Frustrated, he tried to channel his magic into the enchantments, to see if he could just shut them down, otherwise, the book was just about getting ready to melt through the glass table he had set it on, but stopped instantly as the buzzing stopped as soon as his magic went inside the book.

Gingerly picking it up, he hid the wince of pain at the temperature and looked once again at the pages. His eyes widened, as it read in bold Red letters.

"Report to US consulate, MACUSA division. ASAP. Possible Code Three event in Magical Britain. Evacuation might be necessary."

It was signed directly by Rothschild, and the man was not one to make light of his signature, especially if it was really a possible Code Three event.

But what could happen in Magical Britain that would even remotely warrant classifying it as a Code Three event? Guess he would find out.

"Excuse me? Can you make this to go, please? Sorry for the trouble….."

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