Doctor Stephen Strange had seen a lot: dancing dimension dogs, a reality show starring Thor’s hammer, even a burrito that filed its own taxes. But nothing could have prepared him for what he experienced that night.
It started with a portal. (It always starts with a portal.)
“Wong, I think I sensed a magical echo in a parallel universe. Something... wand-related.”
Wong raised an eyebrow. “Stephen. Not again.”
Two seconds later, Strange was gone.
He landed in a castle. Ancient walls. Floating candles. Kids in cloaks.
“This is... Hogwarts?”
A young Gryffindor stared at him. “Are you a teacher?”
“No.”
“Are you a Death Eater?”
“No.”
“Are you... Dumbledore’s cool cousin?”
“...No.”
A Ravenclaw girl whispered, “He looks like a Ravenclaw... but his cloak screams Slytherin.”
The Cloak snapped indignantly.
Professor McGonagall approached. “Who the hell are you?”
“Doctor Stephen Strange. Sorcerer Supreme.”
“We already have a Potions Master.”
“I’m not a teacher.”
“Good. Then clean the dragon dung cages.”
Two hours later:
Strange tried to calm a hippogriff with a twitch of his eye. It spat on him.
The Cloak saved his pride (and his face).
Draco Malfoy strolled by. “Nice nightgown.”
Strange turned slowly. “What did you say, Tom-Felton-with-highlights?”
Eventually, he was summoned by Dumbledore’s portrait. “Doctor Strange, I’ve heard of you.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes. You’re the reason the Ministry of Magic now has a TikTok channel.”
“That was... an accident.”
Later that night:
Harry Potter stood before him. “Sir, could you show us some spells?”
“Gladly.”
He opened 47 portals at once, danced through them, juggled fireflies, and conjured a sandwich that sang Mozart.
Ron fell off his chair. Hermione filmed. Hagrid clapped.
Then the Ministry showed up. With paperwork.
“You need a permit for interdimensional magic in protected zones.”
“I was just visiting!”
“You turned Peeves into a disco-ball ghost.”
“He deserved it.”
“And the castle has Wi-Fi now.”
“I call it: magical networking.”
In the end, Strange stood atop the Astronomy Tower.
“Wong, I want to go home.”
“Stephen, you geotagged Hogwarts on Google Maps using teleportation magic.”
“Oops.”
“Muggles are already taking shuttle buses.”
The End.
P.S.: The Cloak was sorted into Slytherin and is now Head of House.