The flickering screen of the enchanted projector hummed, its light painting the faces of the assembled students and faculty with an eerie glow. Hermione nervously adjusted her spectacles, Ron choked on his drool, and even Dumbledore, usually a picture of serene amusement, seemed a little…perturbed. They were about to see Harry Potter – their Harry Potter – in the Muggle world. They thought they knew him. They were wrong.
The grainy image flickered, resolving into a sleek, modern cityscape. A black limousine, so long it looked like a small train, pulled up to a skyscraper that practically clawed at the sky. Out stepped a figure. Not the scrawny, perpetually disheveled boy they knew. This was…different.
This Harry was taller, leaner, with an androgynous beauty that left everyone breathless. His black, choppy hair fell artfully around his face, framing cheekbones that could cut glass. He wore a perfectly tailored, dark grey suit, the fabric shimmering with an almost imperceptible sheen. He radiated power, a silent force that pulsed off the screen.
A collective gasp rippled through the room.
“Is…is that Harry?” Ron stammered, his jaw hanging open.
“It appears so, Ronald,” Hermione said, her voice unusually tight.
The Harry on the screen didn’t hesitate. He strode into the skyscraper, ignoring the doorman who instinctively bowed low. The projector followed him, showcasing opulence beyond belief. He reached a private elevator and, with a swipe of a card, ascended to what could only be described as a penthouse fit for a god.
Inside, the décor was minimalist yet luxurious, all clean lines and muted colors. But the most striking thing was the advanced technology. Holographic projectors displaying stock market fluctuations, sleek touchscreens embedded in the walls, and what looked suspiciously like a miniature laboratory tucked away in a corner.
“What in Merlin’s name…?” Dumbledore murmured, his eyes narrowed.
The Harry they knew struggled with simple charms. This Harry was a technological titan.
Suddenly, the screen showed Harry pick up a phone. "Potter." He barked into the phone and started issuing orders. "I need stocks in 'Slytherin Incorporated' sold immediately, I want the new prototype finished by tomorrow or you're fired, and start researching the new serum, I want it done as soon as possible!" Harry hung up the phone and put it down on the table.
Then, a voice, laced with familiar drawl, purred from somewhere off-screen, "Late again, my darling."
The camera panned, revealing Severus Snape, looking impossibly elegant in a silk dressing gown, his face softened with an affection that made everyone – especially his students – squirm in their seats. He wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him into a deep, lingering kiss.
The room erupted. Hermione shrieked, Ron sputtered, and Dumbledore looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.
"Snape!?" Ron yelled, his face red. "With Harry?! What is going on?!"
The screen remained impassive, oblivious to the chaos it had unleashed.
More scenes followed, each one more shocking than the last. Harry effortlessly navigated the treacherous world of Muggle finance, buying and selling companies with a ruthless efficiency that would make even Lucius Malfoy envious. He spoke fluent Mandarin to a group of Chinese investors, debated quantum physics with a renowned scientist, and, in one particularly unsettling scene, disarmed a mugger in a dark alley with a speed and precision that bordered on supernatural.
This wasn’t just a rich, powerful Harry. This was a dangerous Harry.
Then came the Wizengamot footage. Harry, seated not in a student’s chair, but in one of the most prestigious Lordship positions, the Potter seat. And… the Black seat. And… several others.
He argued eloquently, fiercely, his voice resonating with authority. He challenged archaic laws, exposed corruption with irrefutable evidence, and generally made life a living hell for those who profited from the suffering of others.
Lucius Malfoy and Tom Riddle were shown holding hands and kissing each other, watching the news on Harry. Tom was shown pulling Lucius into his lap as they cuddled.
The footage ended abruptly, leaving the room in stunned silence.
“He’s…he’s a Metamorphmagus?” Hermione whispered, finally finding her voice. “And a Lord of how many houses?!”
Dumbledore cleared his throat, his blue eyes twinkling less brightly than usual. “It seems Mr. Potter has…hidden depths.”
Hidden depths? He was a bloody ocean!
The truth was clear. Dumbledore had deliberately kept Harry in the dark, manipulating him, controlling him. He'd underestimated the boy, blinded by his own arrogance.
Meanwhile, the screen began to play another video. Harry was sitting at the table with a large book and his hands. “Alright, everyone. Today we will be discussing all the things I will need to know to have a successful pregnancy!”
Severus walked into the room and sat beside Harry. He kissed him on the cheek and smiled.
“As you all know, I plan to get pregnant. I have been looking for a surrogate, but I can’t seem to find anyone who matches my specifications. I have multiple seats on the Wizengamot so as my children are born they will get a lordship. I plan on having at least 5 children.”
The scene ended as Harry talked, the camera zooming in on his face as he blushed.
This Harry, this powerful, intelligent, and utterly captivating Harry, was also desperately yearning for a simple life, a family, a home. While the rest of the room was still struggling to process everything they'd just seen, Hermione couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her friend. He deserved to be happy. He deserved to be the house husband he dreamed of being.
The room buzzed with murmurs.
“He’s…quite the badass, isn’t he?” Fred said, grinning at George. “Makes you wonder what else he’s hiding.”
George nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe we should ask Draco. You know, for details.”
Draco, who was currently clinging nervously to Fred’s arm, groaned.
As for Harry, wherever he was now, juggling stocks, dodging assassins, and plotting his next move, he was probably smiling. Because for the first time in a long time, he was in control. And he was just getting started.