HP: Mage of Steel
Chapter Four
- Movement -

A/N: Don't own squat, 'cept the plot. Shame, too. I could use the bloody money.

I reject your canon with my cannon.
*lights fuse*

12 October 1981 – Godric's Hollow

The house was subdued. Albus had just left after dropping the prophesy on their heads. James and Lily had a silent conversation before turning to look at Sirius. "I'll do it," he rasped as he bounced Harry on his knee. "No, wait," he paused as a thought struck him. "Peter would be a better idea. You and I are brothers from another mother, James, and everyone knows it. If Peter does it, then I couldn't tell anyone even if they caught me."

"That could work," James mumbled.

Lily shook her head. "I don't like it. He's been off lately, and Harry can't stand him."

"We'll figure something out," James said with a sigh. "We always do."

The three of them didn't notice Dumbledore outside with his wand out and a satisfied smile on his face.

Harry did, though.

29 July 1994 – Smallville

Harry stood in a field of wheat, staring at a house that had a large red barn. The Kent Farm was picturesque in an idealistic fashion. Part of him was jealous, but he would never begrudge Clark's childhood. A dark haired girl stood next to him and squeezed his hand, making him turn to smile in gratitude.

He never wanted to know what could have happened had they not met that day, nearly four years ago.

16 August 1991 – Wizengamot

The Wizengamot Session was nearly over, when Harry blasted the main door down. Not open – off the hinges. Striding in over the fallen doors, he was incensed over what had just happened. "That's it?" his hissed voiced echoed through the chamber. "Removal of two positions and a fine? That's… all?"

Tiberius Ogden, the interim Chief Warlock, surveyed the blood-red haired boy in prime wizarding finery. The crest on the lad's left breast caused his eyes to widen slightly. "Please identify yourself, young man, before you are detained and your parents fined for disrupting a governmental session."

Harry stood tall and sneered at the entire room. "I may look nothing like the various media have depicted me, but it is true. I am Harold James Potter IV, the Potter of Potter and Earl of Richmond, Emancipated Lord of the Crown. I stand before this Most August Body with a feeling of absolute betrayal. The perpetrator of numerous crimes against my family… Walks… Free?"

"We couldn't do more," Amelia Bones interjected with a look of sorrow and frustration. "All of his actions were as the Chief Warlock. We did rescind his appointment to the ICW, but nothing was done under the purview of the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Bollocks!" Harry thundered. "Where do you think what little medical attention was given to me occurred? St. Mungos?" Scoffing, he glared at Ogden. "So, that's it? Nothing else to be done? So sorry, hands are tied with gold and all that rot?"

"I resent that implication," Tiberius glared.

Harry matched that glare with his own. "I resent Albus "too many fucking names and title's" very existence!" his young voice roared into echoes throughout the chamber.

Turning to a completely shocked Dumbledore, he continued his diatribe. "Albus Wulfric Dumbledore, I, Lord Harold James Potter, Name you Traitor and Enemy to the House of Potter unto the seventh generation. I hereby break any and all ties to the Minor House of Dumbledore, for the crimes against the head of two houses – Potter and Black – and furthermore declare on the Potter Family Magic: No Potter shall attend any institution where Albus Wulfric Dumbledore holds authority or influence. So I Say, So I Vow, So Mote It!"

The flare of wrathful feud magic blinded everyone, but Harry wasn't done as he held up his hand to the old wizard as he looked about the room. "This is the bastard you wish to have influence over your children and grandchildren?

"To keep me under his control, he placed Sirius Black in gaol for being my bound godfather; did not warn the Longbottoms because Alice is my bound godmother; placed me in a false marriage contract with the Weasley Clan, whom owe allegiance to Dumbledore; and sent me to magic hating muggles who treated me worse than a slave!"

Glaring, he eyed the entire room. "I piss on all of you," he hissed with malice, before spinning on his heel and purposely broke fifteen layers of anti-apparition wards – and sounding just as many alarms – as he force-apparated through them like they were made of spun glass.

He also didn't care that all he did and said was live on the Wizarding Wireless Network.

16 August 1991 – Unknown Pacific Island

Everything was wrong. He got almost all he was after, except seeing that bastard in prison. He even got to keep that job overseeing children!

It was an impossible, enraged and blind apparition from the Wizengamot chambers that led him to this island with a crack of thunder in both places. He didn't care where he was when he appeared, and wouldn't have cared about the alarms he set off in the Ministry, had he been told about them. Harry simply turned to glare at a boulder, screaming wordlessly as it started to melt. He didn't even realize that his heat vision was active, it just lashed in his outrage.

Once his temper was sated, and the rock thoroughly melted, he fell to his knees, sobbing. The oath may have been satisfied, but he wasn't by any stretch of the imagination. That, and regardless of the fact that he had many years of training and etcetera stuffed in his head, he was still only eleven years old. His emotions were all over the place.

Unknown to him, his explosive appearance was noticed by the natives of the island. One directly, and others by the sound of his arrival. Fate or Chance had Harry appear not twenty feet from Donna's regular afternoon hiking trail. Said girl stood completely still with her mouth hanging open at the display.

Only after the male child collapsed on himself in a fit of grief, and seeing that his long hair shortened and changed from a deep red to coal black, did she move. "Είσαι καλά?" she asked in Greek, which was a simple 'Are you okay?'

Standing sharply in a spin, Harry faced the approaching girl with a look of stunned shock on his face. "Συγνώμη," he apologized. {I did not know there were people here. I shall leave.}

Donna's surprise was intensified when the boy turned and started to float upward. {No, wait!} She followed him in the air and nabbed his hand when they were some fifty feet over the beach.

Caught, Harry again turned wide eyed to the girl. She followed him in the air! He only learned to fly a bit over a week ago, and here was a girl in a classic toga just following along! What. The. Everloving. Hell?

"How in the world?" he blurted in English.

"Know not where you are?" she countered in the same language. At his shake of the head, her eyebrows shot skyward. "No male should be able to locate Themyscira, and yet you just happened to find it?"

Harry shook his head again. "I apparated blindly. I had to get away before I murdered the traitor to my family."

29 July 1994 – Smallville

"It will be all right," Donna murmured to her rather anxious boyfriend of two years. She had seen him at his best and worst, and it was rather awkward to see the nervous dance he was doing – all twitchy and fidgety.

Sighing, Harry let out a lot of his tension as Donna rubbed his back. "Thank you."

"I shall always help you," Donna replied with a smile and a kiss to his cheek. "Shall we?" she indicated with a wave towards the farm house.

"Yes," Harry nodded. "Let's."

Inside, Martha was preparing dinner in a bit of hurried nervousness. Harold had called and asked to meet this evening, as his ship's computer still couldn't locate Clark's. So far, she had made three pies in addition to roast beef, slow baked potatoes and a relative plethora of vegetables.

Jonathan came into the room and took everything in. His wife was in what he called 'cooking panic mode', and wasn't surprised. He was nervous, too. All they told Clark was that someone was coming to meet him about his birth family. No mention of aliens or anything of that nature. They were also a bit scared to mention the fact that he had a brother, let alone a twin.

Internally, he was praying for everything to go well and hoping that Clark wouldn't hate them for not telling him sooner.

As for Clark, he had already finished his chores in record time and was busy pacing in the living room. While he knew he was adopted, meeting someone about his birth family had him in all sorts of conflict. Ma and Pa were the only family he knew, and didn't want to appear too eager and upset them.

His best friend, Pete Ross, couldn't make it. Something about helping his dad fix something in the shop. Chloe was there, though, sighing almost every time he passed her on the couch.

"Will you sit down? You're going to wear a hole in the floor!" Chloe complained and chastised at the same time.

Huffing out a huge gust of air, Clark flopped on the couch next to his other best friend. "I can't help it, Chloe. I want to know, but don't want to hurt Ma and Pa over it."

The blond sighed and patted his knee. "Whatever happens, happens. I'll be right here with you the whole way."

Hanging his head, Clark glanced at her from the side. "Thanks."

"Any time," Chloe replied with a grin as she met his eyes.

Everyone in the house froze when there was a knock at the door. Clark watched his dad move through the room to answer it. "See? He's as tense as I am."

"You're a Kent, Clark," Chloe whispered as she took his hand. "Nothing will ever change that."

"Hope so," was the only thing he could say to that.

Watching Harry fidget on the porch again for a minute or so, Donna sighed. "Would you relax? You're thinking in circles again. Quit it."

Harry hung his head with a heaving sigh, much like Clark just did, looking at her from the side. "I just want this to go right," he whispered. Straightening up, he girded himself as he knocked on the door.

There was a moment's pause, before they heard someone approach the door. It opened and they looked slightly up to the pensive face of Jonathan Kent. The sandy blond man looked to be in his mid to late thirties, and wore a brown and green checked flannel shirt over denim trousers and brown chucks of a sort that Harry didn't recognize.

"Harold Potter," Harry said with his hand out.

They shook hands. "Jonathan Kent."

Realizing that they were just as nervous as he was caused Harry to relax a bit. "Do. Not. Panic," he said quietly with a hopeful grin on his face.

Jonathan blew out a heaving sigh and smiled sheepishly at the pair of them. "My God, you look almost just alike," he whispered in slight awe at the ersatz version of his son.

"But not quite, I imagine," Donna said with a smile and an intercontinental accent. "Since he's so nervous, shall I introduce myself? Donna Troy. This one's best friend and a bit more."

"Sorry, Donna," Harry winced. "Yes sir, this is my girlfriend, Donna."

"Bit early to be bringing girls home," came Martha's voice from behind Jonathan's shoulder. The redhead appeared and looked to be more relieved than anything. "I'm Martha, this lump's better half. Nice to meet you both." Pleasantries and handshakes later, they were let in.

"Oh, wow," came a girl's voice from a bit further in. "Clark? He looks just like you!"

Donna gently pushed Harry forward while Martha pulled Jonathan out of the way. Seeing that, Clark was nudged forward by Chloe.

Harry and Clark just stared at each other, noting the similarities and differences. Donna smiled as she lightly leaned back and forth on the balls of her feet. This was a long time coming.

And like her, but more startled, Chloe was looking back and forth between the two with huge eyes. "I, uh. Is there something you want to tell me, Clark?"

"Chloe," Martha quietly chastised. "He didn't know. We were waiting to tell him."

"Why?" Clark whispered, sounding betrayed. He turned to his parents. "Why wait? Why keep me from knowing I have a twin brother?"

While Martha wiped her eyes, Jonathan's voice was hitchy. "We. It wasn't out of meanness, son. We just. We love you so much, Clark, and we were afraid you'd… "

"What?" Clark prodded, slowly getting angry.

Martha put a hand on his arm. "We thought you'd want to leave."

The anger drained so fast, there was a red shift. "Are you kidding? Why would you think that?"

"I wouldn't have let him, in any case," Harry quietly interjected, "regardless of the fact that he's thirty seconds older than me."

"That was all?" Martha blurted in surprise.

Harry nodded. "Yes, ma'am. It was an assisted birth. There were some complications, so an equivalent of what you would call a C-Section was performed."

Chloe's eyes were wide, now that he heard Harry speak more than a few words. "Clark? Your brother's British."

"That obvious, am I?" Harry grinned, then turned to Clark. "We were both adopted out, and although I was born with a different name, the name my adoptive parents gave me was Harold James. I go by Harry."

"Potter," Donna poked him in the back.

Flinching, Harry started. "Yes, of course. Harry James Potter."

"Clark Hiram Kent," Clark replied. "Are you really my brother? Am I a Potter?"

"No, that was the family that adopted me," Harry replied with a shake of the head. "Our true family name is El. You're Kal-El, and I'm Xal-El."

Chloe's mouth dropped open as she gaped at Harry, snapping it shut quickly. She glanced briefly at her blue jewelled bracelet as her mind raced.

"What does that mean?" Clark asked, tripping Chloe out of her wool gathering.

Harry seemed to think a bit, his head tilted while looking at the furniture, before nodding. "We probably shouldn't do this indoors. Would behind the barn keep things from the neighbours?"

"Should do," Jonathan said. "Let's go."

"I'm still confused," Clark said.

Harry patted his shoulder. "It'll make sense in a bit." In a whisper, he asked, "The blonde your sister, or a friend?"

"Friend," Clark whispered back. "Trust her with my life."

Martha was on her son's other side. "It'll be okay, Clark. I promise. We're all here for you." While she had a happy front up, she was whirling round and round inside her head. Well, she was a mother. It's kind of a prerogative to do that.

A/N2: Trying very hard to get back into writing. I apologize for being so farked in the head.

Rather than go through another trial session, which I hate writing, I simply went with the afters. Hope it worked out okay.