HP (AU) : Wizard with a Mutation

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. 

Brown's Hotel, London, Magical Britain [1980]

–Scott Winters–

He paced in the room, waiting for John to come back. After all, London had become a whole lot more dangerous for John because of his actions. He had no idea where he was off to but they had decided to meet for dinner so he should be here soon. He had already informed the receptionist to inform him once John was back so that should not be an issue.

The issue at hand was what he had done and the consequences of doing so. As his de facto handler, John would most likely be punished though not severely because there was no way John could have controlled him if he wished to do something else. No, John was simply here because he knew the law and also because Rothschild knew that Scott liked John so he would exercise more caution, knowing that one of the few people he liked in the world was safe enough.

If only he wasn't so high handed with the criminals, there might have been something that they could have done to just sweep this whole thing under the rug but as things stood, he had left behind 17 corpses with the 18th one barely alive. 

He would consider himself lucky if the 18th one didn't survive long enough for the Ministry to collect his memories but then again, he never considered himself lucky. He might have to make preparations for…what exactly?

He asked himself. Could he really leave his only living family in such conditions? Where terrorist groups, in broad daylight, attacked the premier shopping district in London, the capital of Britain. The answer was clear there, no, he could not.

And yet, could he abandon his duty back in the States? The place that trained him and made him into the wizard he is today. Granted, he was not aware of his extra talent right up until he enrolled in No-Maj university to gain more knowledge. 

Even then, the couple of years he spent under their training meant that he had become a wizard with a couple of combat classes under his belt to a borderline ArchMage level wizard. Yes, he was not yet an Archmage yet but that was only when it came to magical accomplishments and some sort of vague esoteric barrier that every wizard came across when they peaked. Something that Charles always says to him, that the one barrier that wizards have to cross to become an Archmage was already wide open for him and yet, he had to just step across the threshold. 

How, Why, and When? He did not know and the old fuck never clarified. From their studies, the analysts in MACUSA could confidently say that he could fight on the same level as an ArchMage and probably even defeat unaware ones with ease, with his special ability.

He had one signature spell that blasted every single unforgivable out of the park, even the Imperius, as his lasers could break through everything. The only thing was that it consumed magic like nothing so he preferred using his wand to channel the lasers since it was much more efficient that way.

But if push came to shove, he could use his entire body to unleash an omnidirectional wave of lasers. He could also use them for many other delicate uses but he couldn't get the output modulation quite right.

That was why he used a wizard staff that MACUSA commissioned from some shamans in Africa, which helped him control his lasers with much more ease than just using a wand or even just his body.

Leaving Magical Britain as is was impossible and yet, leaving MACUSA behind was also impossible. For one, all his friends and important contacts were in MACUSA. The only people he knew in Magical Britain personally were the Winters Family and even then, he had only met after almost a decade. The last time he met them was when they shipped him off to a boarding school.

They never replied to letters but all his bills were paid for, before time and since he did not have any incidents in boarding schools, his guardians were never called. Once he started earning on his own, in the No-Maj world, he never bothered with their money, only sending monthly status updates.

Eventually, the update style evolved from a hopeful family to a soldier sending a report to his commander. Even so, he never stopped, hoping that a reply would come, holding on to that foolish hope that maybe, just maybe, he was not an orphan in all but name.

He was quite stupid in being so excited to come here but then again, he was one stubborn bastard. So what if they didn't acknowledge him? He would protect his family all the same, by hook or crook.

So, he vowed to–

The door creaked open, "Hey, the lady at the front desk said you wanted to meet me?"

His lips twitched as he took in John's tourist appearance. He wore a large T-shirt with the British Flag proudly displayed across it. A red, white, and blue oversized heat over his head and to top it all off, a camera proudly slung across his neck, probably already filled with snaps from wherever he went in London.

"What are you wearing?!" He asked the man.

John let himself in and gestured at himself, the ridiculous monstrosity of a giant "Look at me!" getup that he had put up on himself. "What, this? I thought, when in London…."

"No!" He shouted at that nonsense reply, "No, this is not what you do in London. This is not what you do anywhere." He slapped his forehead in exasperation as the man joined in on his laughter.

"Its London, Baby!" John shouted with his arms splayed apart, making Scott break out in hysterics as he collapsed on the bed behind him.

"Tha–That is not–HAHAHA" He broke down before he could complete his sentence for some reason. John joined in as he collapsed in the chair by the door.

As the laughter subsided, both of them took a breath. He wiped the tears as he sat upright.

"Man, that-that was something, I tell you. Please tell me you took pictures?"

"Oh, there are so many pictures I will need an entire week to show everyone at the office all my photos," John said, making him crack a smile at the image.

His smile dimmed at the thought of the office and everyone in that office.

"Hey, what's wrong? Something happened after I was gone?" John asked him, removing his ridiculous hat and sitting right beside him.

He shook his head, "Yeah, something happened but don't worry, I will sort it out with Rothschild. We are going to have to cut this trip short. First thing tomorrow, we'll be going to the Embassy."

"Oh, we are returning, so soon? Did you even meet your family? I know you have been wanting to meet them for ages?" John asked, concerned.

He corrected him, "No. I am staying, you are going back." 

"What? WHY?"

"Not important. What is important is that you are unsafe here. We will get everything arranged with the embassy tomorrow, so why don't you remove that ridiculous T-shirt and get some sleep? See you at 7 tomorrow."

"B-But, at least tell me why. Why are you sta-" He shut the door on John's face at that point.

He sighed and went on to freshen up and also to make sure that nobody tracked him here, just in case. After all, while he was confident in his own skills, he didn't make it this far by not being paranoid.

After all, it is not paranoia if they are really out to get you.

And in his case, they most certainly were out to get him.

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I already have upto 10 extra chapters published there.