The Magical Non-Magical AU
Notes
Wizards:
Harry (Full Name: Ashlius Dwennon Zacharias Michelangelo Gordon Ophelion Norbert Harridarmus Justinius Lindley Cuthbert Oglseby Potter, XXII)
James
Lily
Tom Riddle (Uncle) [Not (Completely) Evil]
Blacks (Sirius, Regulus, Bellatrix, Andromeda, Tonks)
Weasleys (Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny)
Seamus
Neville
Luna
Mortals:
Draco
Lucius
Narcissa
Severus (Godfather)
Remus
Hermione
Blaise
Pansy
Dursleys (Vernon, Petunia, Dudley)
Dean
Terry
Lavender
Parvati/Padme
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Lily/James, Lucius/Narcissa, Sirius/Remus, Blaise/Hermione, Ron/Pansy, Seamus/Neville, Tom/Severus, Ginny/Luna, Dean/Lavender, Terry/Parvati
Scene insert:
"Draco… I'm a wizard."
"You know, when you told me you weren't like other people, you didn't mention you were insane."
"I am not insane."
"Wave your… your wand, or something, and prove it to me then."
"Wand? What kind of books have you been reading? Wands. Seriously."
Bewizard
There are some things in life you don't question. Politicians are blood-thirsty parasites, technology gets smaller and more powerful every day, and children have a large aptitude for imagination (a.k.a., bullshitting). It's these types of constants that make everything okay after an encounter with something a bit more out of the ordinary than people are used to dealing with. Of course, in situations such as those, people are more likely to think it nothing more than a hallucination or a dream and completely forget about it over their favorite drink and perhaps a slice of pie.
Which is exactly why there was very little fuss when a young man appeared from absolutely nothing in the middle of the sidewalk, where just moments before there had been nothing but an old gum wrapper where he now stood. In fact, the only thing that really cared about his sudden appearance from thin air was the gum wrapper, as he had appeared right on top of it.
Looking at this young man, you would think him an average, if somewhat confused, twenty-something-year-old with the brightest pair of green eyes you had ever seen framed by an expensive pair of glasses. He wore ordinary, if not fashionable clothes, had strikingly messy black hair, and was rather handsome with his slightly tanned skin and sleek stature. You would not think him strange or unusual, just a bit lost.
And lost was exactly what he was.
With a furrow of his brow, the young man looked down at the small white paper in his hand and then looked up searching for a street sign. He frowned when he did not recognize the name of the street and once more looked down at his paper. If anyone had bothered to take a look at the paper, they would have noticed that it, unlike the man, was rather unusual. At first glance it looked like a normal map. At a second and longer look, they would have noticed that there were arrows moving across the page, street lines that kept changing color, and three large words in thick red ink above an equally bold arrow stating, 'You're Not Here'.
"Bother," muttered the man. Looking a little irritated, he shoved the map into a pocket and began walking down the street.
His name was Harry Potter. It wasn't his full name, as his full name was long enough to give someone a coronary writing it down, but it was good enough. In fact, Harry wasn't even his first name, it was one of his many middle names… sort of. It was actually only part of his middle name, really, but he could only stomach it shortened and it also happened to be the most common name he could think of that wasn't completely boring, like Bob, Dick, or Adam. (None of which could actually be found in his name, and therefore would be just silly.) He had chosen to go by 'Harry' since he was a little boy, however, for two reasons: One, he absolutely hated his true first name, and two, it drove his father spare.
So he kept it that way, because after all, pissing off his father was his favorite pastime.
Despite the fact that he looked nearly identical to his father, the two of them were as different as night and day. His father was carefree, a bit wild, and found great pride in what he was to the point of being, bluntly, a stuck-up jerk. Harry, however, was rather sensible, extremely kindhearted, and rather selfless – taking after his mother. Although he liked his life, for the most part, he found it completely and utterly boring. The fact that Harry found little pride in being a Potter Heir, a name which had carried prestige, power and wealth for thousands of years, was appalling to his father. It was something they had had a great many arguments about, which caused his mother no small amount of stress.
"You're a Potter, Harry!" his father often exclaimed. "You could do anything you wanted and no one would dare say a word against it simply because you are."
"Which is exactly the problem," Harry would always answer. "I'd rather earn my reputation than have it handed down to me because of a matter of birth."
This, of course, would start his father on yet another rant of respecting the family name, being proud of the esteem others held him in, living life to the fullest, etcetera, etcetera. During which, of course, Harry would simply tune him out for a while and then wander out of the room, much to his father's consternation at being ignored by his son yet again.
"Stubborn as a graphorn, just like his father," his mother would sigh mournfully, to which everyone else would either solemnly agree or roll their eyes.
Despite their many arguments however, father and son did love each other very much. This was an unquestionable truth, despite the fact that they annoyed each other to hell and back. James was as proud of his son as he was flabbergasted at Harry's blasé attitude towards his lineage. His son confused him, sometimes, and he often wondered where Harry had gotten all of it from. Then all James would have to do is walk by a room, see his son staring awestruck into a crystal ball, and sigh in exasperation.
He blamed it on the mortals.
Before I continue, perhaps I should explain. Harry, just like the rest of his family, were Wizards. Wizards were among the most powerful beings in the Realm of Magic, right along side the Warlocks and the oldest of dragons. They lived for a long time, in some cases as long as ten thousand years. Their bodies aged slowly, giving them an almost eternally youthful look, and their magic was fascinating to behold. As one of the oldest Wizard bloodlines, the Potters held quite a bit of magic, more powerful than most. But the Magic Realm was not the only one. Right alongside them was the Mortal Realm.
Ever since Harry had discovered that there was a world apart from theirs where magic did not exist, he had been fascinated by the people who lived there. He had spent most of his time learning about mortals, reading about their history and behaviors. He found much of what they do amusing, if not a bit perplexing. He had always wondered what it would be like to live as a mortal, and one day came to a decision that absolutely horrified his father.
He went to his parents and said, in no uncertain terms, "I'm giving up magic and moving to the Mortal Realm." There was nothing his parents could do to persuade him otherwise and not long after that, he left.
Which brings us back to Harry wandering up a street completely and utterly lost. He began to slightly regret making such a hasty decision to get there on his own, instead of taking magical transportation to the house he had bought with his trust allowance, even if the cost had barely dented it. After all, just because he thought being a Potter was no big deal, it didn't mean he wasn't going to take advantage of having the money. However, there was no way he was going to go back, especially not after overhearing his father and his godfather making a bet on how long he would last before he came home. He was not going to give either of them the satisfaction of seeing him give up his "horrible idea to give up magic", and besides that, he didn't like quitting.
Even if he was lost.
Ah, well. Might as well do some sightseeing along the way. He could always pick up a few mortal knickknacks, or maybe a map seeing as how his was being completely and utterly useless at the moment.
The paper crinkled in his pocket and Harry scowled in the general direction.
"You are being completely useless right now, so don't even start. Instead of telling me where I wasn't you could have told me where I was, you know." The paper was sullenly silent, and Harry continued on, satisfied.
As he walked, he watched the people around him with blatant interest. Despite learning as much as he could about mortals, being up close was immensely more interesting than looking into his great-aunt-twice-removed's crystal ball. For the life of him, he could never remember her name, Sarah, or Sandra, or something of the like. Ah, well, her name didn't really matter, after all, since she was as batty as they came.