Harry Potter and the Sage Inquisition!

Though he is not the BWL, Harry Potter has the potential to become the greatest wizard in history. Learning of magic and all of it's wonders as a Flamel, he soon learns that Voldemort is but a small threat compared to the many dangers of the world. The magical world does not revolve around one prophecy but it does around the Sage Inquisitor. SuperHarry/Multi! Not Gary Stu!

Notes:

-I've read Harry fanfics; and they are my favourite fics ever. The writing, story and emotions are just spectacular.

-I also wanted to try something different. So many fics revolve around the impending conflict between Voldemort and Harry and there are some where Harry ends up in a different universe that has so many OC's in order to accompany an entirely different story, world and conflict that it might as well be an original novel instead.

So I had a thought and one day I decided to write a fic where Voldemort is not the biggest, baddest villain in the world; I mean there are so many potential things that could off him ranging from vampires, dragons, world governments and magic cults in the guise of the Vatican etc...and most importantly, a simple man with a sniper.

And by extension, most fics focus on Hogwarts, this one will not. As suggested in the summary, this fic will focus on Harry's impact on the entire world. So expect a lot of international trouble etc...

"Deprived" was a very, very influential fic in the premises of this story; you gotta admit that whole mercenary underbelly and "Don't mess with Templar/Harry" because he survived through it and is now at the top despite being a 14-year old is so freaking badass, the romance, drama and emotional turmoils makes it even sweeter.

In this fic, Harry will be less cynical under Nicholas Flamel's tutelage and he'll be more OP; but rather than just enabling him to do silent spells, wand less spells and turning him into a walking arsenal/library of magical knowledge. I'm going to be more...creative with his bag of tricks.

Harry will be going to Hogwarts by the way, but not in the way you'll expect. If you do then...you must have somehow attended divination.

This is also inspired by Dragon Age: Inquisition and To Aru Majutsu no Index.

This is not a bashing fanfic by the way; I don't really like it, and most of the times, the bashing is used so unreasonably.

Note: SuperHarry does not equal Gary Stu Harry, if that's the impression you get from the first few chapters please bear with it. Harry will have tons of challenges, both physically and mentally, to overcome.

Anyway enjoy.

XXXXX-Prologue: The Mystery Heir-XXXXX

Bastien Delacour was not a happy man as of late. When word reached the French Ministry of Magic, informing them that one of their greatest artefacts was going to be taken out of France, the entire ministry went into an uproar.

Even the Vatican, arguably France's most powerful magic cabal disguised as a religious order, which didn't bother with politics much deemed it fit this time to intervene.

The Philosopher's Stone was far too precious, innovative, to just move it overseas merely for the sake of 'personal research'. Although it was Dumbledore, a widely respected wizard even in France, requesting it, the fact that the stone would stay in England, of all places, for several years at that, was far too risky a move.

Bastien had nothing against it, but it was public knowledge within the French ministry of magic that England was filled with pure-blooded buffoons, it's the reason why, despite the fact that several centuries have already passed, the wizarding society of England had barely innovated itself.

But the biggest reason as to why the ministry, and the Vatican, were so against the Philosopher's Stone landing in the hands of the English was because England could 'boast' about the fact that they fostered the highest number of dark wizards to date, simply because of some outdated pureblood beliefs that were supported by pureblood extremists.

France still had magical purebloods, sure, but they weren't so delusional as to think that the very limited number of purebloods remaining could support the wizarding society by themselves. They were still annoying pain in the asses, but not delusional enough about their beliefs to start a war based on that alone.

He was already having the time of his life dealing with them in his own ministry; he felt sorry for Cornelius Fudge, he had a hard time imagining just how annoying English purebloods were, but they were bound to be more troublesome to deal with.

They'd be exponentially more troublesome when the secret to having a long, long life fell in their hands; there was a very, very real concern that once the stone arrived in England, it would never find its way back to France.

It was a concern shared by all in the ministry and so, it was decided that he would go over to the private, heavily warded, almost-impenetrable Flamel residence. The old fossil loved his privacy, and he was considered a special case in which he was not restricted by the laws of the French wizarding society. So Flamel didn't need to answer to him.

This was because he was currently one of less than 13 Wizard Saints, who answered only to themselves.

Powerful wizards said to blessed by an unknown magic god since birth, resulting in them obtaining a powerful magic affinity. In this instance, unrivalled transmutation magic.

While, to an average wizard, it may not sound impressive. What was so special about their affinities was that they were allowed to bend the natural laws of magic to achieve unheard-of mastery of the magic branch they were blessed in. It had been proven time and time again, especially in Nicholas's case who had lived for over 600 years, that Wizard Saints are on par with entire battalions, as in more than one, full of wizards.

A feat that only the likes of dragons, Voldemort or Dumbledore could match by themselves.

But their existences were confidential; so confidential that only Ministers of Magic would know of the identities of their local Saints. Their existences were more important than prophecies, and the oncoming of a new Saint was closely watched out for, they were always prophesied even.

It was not a joke to say that if ever an international war was to break out, the Wizard Saints would be their trump card.

And he was about to meet one. He hadn't met a Saint once, even when he took over as Minister.

It was nerve wracking to say the least.

So his eldest 10-turning-11 year old daughter coming with him was not at all intended to lighten the atmosphere. Coincidentally he had heard Nicholas's wife, Perenelle, who was not so private, absolutely loved children much like his own.

Yep, not intentional at all.

If his daughter caught on to why he brought her along then he promised himself that he would reward her as much as possible.

His daughter was sharp.

She must've inherited it from her mother.

It was a damn good thing her daughter was too overcome by awe; the chance to meet Nicholas Flamel himself was far too exciting a prospect to think about another matter.

XXXXXXXXXX

He used his special floo powder in the special floo, both components custom designed to lead only to the Flamel residence under the condition that the one using the floo had the minister's magical signature, which was recognised beforehand via a handprint scanning device next to the floo.

In a blink of an eye, Bastien and his daughter had found himself in an unfamiliar place.

While he stood there in the floo, his daughter had already run out to inspect the room in which they had just arrived in.

A/N: Sorry, but I'm not going to even bother with accents.

"Daddy, is this really Nicolas's household? Where is he, Daddy? Let's meet him already!"

Though, normally, he would've lightly scolded her unladylike enthusiasm, lest her mother do it for him, he had just noticed two golden bodies of armour stalk up from behind his little baby girl.

"State your business here, Minister."

A mechanical voice crept out of the armours, startling her daughter as she leapt back a feet or two.

"I, Bastien Delacour-French Minister of Magic, wish to discuss the Philosopher's Stone."

"...you may proceed."

The two armours stepped out of the way and ushered him to the door.

"My Master and Mistress are aware of your arrival, they are waiting for you outside. You should find them having tea on the veranda."

"Thank you." With that the two animated armours of gold returned to their original positions, right next to the door.

"Come on, Fleur, the Flamels don't have all day."

They probably did, but he wouldn't tell her that.

Fleur, who was still staring at the gold statues in wonder, now shifted her attention back to her father. She ran up towards him quickly and with that, they departed for the Flamels.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Bastien Delacour, I see. So what does the French Minister of Magic want with a dear, fragile, old man such as myself?"

Surely enough, Bastien found a young-looking blonde-haired man waiting outside drinking tea. His attire being lustrous green robes with gold outlines.

Going through the Flamel's Renaissance-based Mansion, Bastien, whom would admit that his sensory skills were a bit lacking, could easily assess that the ancient man loved his crafts, magically powerful crafts.

The mansion, besides the walls and roof which were decorated with paintings, was littered with gold: often in the form of ornate armour, jewellery and artefacts obviously gathered or crafted during the 600 years Flamel had lived. His daughter, with her quarter Veela senses, was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of magical residue.

Not even Beauxbaton was magical to this degree.

"Monsieur Flamel, it is an honour to meet you. I regret that, during my short term of office, I was not able to come visit you."

"Yes, I don't envy you, all that paperwork is way too troublesome. Come, sit. I trust my wife, Perenelle, has already greeted you."

"Yes, she has. She is with my daughter now."

During their short, limited tour of the mansion, Perenelle Flamel, a very, very beautiful exotically tanned Pureblood Veela with sandy blonde hair who looked like she was still in her 20s, had chanced upon them when she was preparing a batch of cookies.

Giving Fleur a cookie, she offered to take his daughter around the garden and impart some ancient wisdom.

Fleur enthusiastically agreed and hopped off with Perenelle, who hadn't bothered with taking the cookies back to her husband saying that "Nicolas can get his own blasted cookies".

"Good, now answer my question; what's your business here? I'm a busy man." He said jokingly.

Well, that certainly explained why he was sitting here drinking tea. Very busy indeed.

"The ministry wishes to change your mind; they, along with the Vatican, believe that it is not wise to move the Stone to England."

"Oh? Pray tell." The amusement in Flamel's voice was not lost to him. Truthfully, Bastien was a bit unnerved by the man's nonchalance; the Vatican was not a magic cabal to be taken lightly.

"You cannot tell me that you're seriously contemplating Dumbledore's request? Such a powerful artefact should not be in the hands of the English."

"Meh, the Philosopher's Stone isn't the first law-defying object to be in their possession, it's certainly not going to be the last; personally, I don't see what the fuss is all about."

The man probably did, if the amused glint in his eye was any indication, he was probably just waiting for him to spell out the obvious.

But being hassled by such pointless drivel for the last few days, Bastien Delacour was, safe to say, not in the mood to amuse. So he sighed and got to the crux of the matter.

"Then, please, tell me what was Dumbledore's real reason for requesting the Stone?" Flamel for the first time, showed something other than amusement in his expression.

"Oh, you knew?"

"I could read between the lines, Dumbledore may have attained a reputation for being somewhat 'eccentric', as all brilliant people do, but someone who has survived two wars did not get by with 'carelessness'."

"Oh? You might be surprised, I remember myself fighting through WWI with nothing but 'carelessness', as you can see I am perfectly fine."

"Nonetheless, contrary to what the Ministry thinks, I sincerely doubt that he would move the Stone to England just for the singular purpose of 'research' when he could just as easily do it here, where the primary inventor of the 'research subject' lives."

"And what makes you think I know all the ins and outs of the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Please, if you couldn't figure it out, then there is absolutely no chance of Dumbledore finding anything. Last time I checked Dumbledore's resume, he was not the one coined as 'The one and only Master Alchemist'."

"Is that right? Who knows, England hasn't been well known for properly maintaining their citizen's resumes. Last time I checked, Lucius Malfoy is a death eater...oh my bad, was a death eater."

Bastien winced a bit at the sheer sarcasm in Flamel's voice, the knowledge that what he was implying was probably true did nothing whatsoever to alleviate his worries, and by extension the Ministry's, about sending the Stone to England.

"At least...can you tell me what security measures you've placed over the Stone?"

He could already see that there was no convincing Nicholas to not acquiesce to Dumbledore's request, but the Ministry should be satisfied if French-affiliated defence measures were taken. If he was lucky, he could hopefully recommend several squads of French Aurors for protection.

Which was, by the way, not overkill. That was how important the Stone is.

"Don't worry, the stone will be at Gringotts and besides, in three years time, I'll also be sending insurance."

"Specifics...please?"

Nicholas smiled mischievously.

"Oh, rest assured, I'm sending my heir to guard the stone. It'll be perfectly safe under his watch."

"Ah, that's a relief, I'm sure that-that..."

Bastien was smiling in relief, picking up his cup of tea just as he was expressing it-it was only until the cup touched his lips did he truly understand the gravity of Nicolas's words.

...Heir?

...

"You have an heir!?"

The man's smile grew even wider, if that was even possible. He conjured up a plate of cookies and offered it to the shocked Minister of Magic.

"Cookie?"

XXXXXXXXXX

Fleur Delacour was lost, much to her dismay.

She was so excited to explore the grounds belonging to the famous Immortal Alchemist that she just couldn't hide it. To her, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so she was going to milk it for all it was worth.

That was what landed her in her current predicament, she was so excited that she went off without Madam Perenelle. Obviously, without a guide, she became lost in the midst of a vast, unfamiliar garden.

But she certainly wasn't disappointed.

She was already dazzled by the magnificence of the Flamel Mansion, which was decorated with beautiful displays of art of all kinds, to say that Nicholas Flamel was cultured was an understatement; he was historic, she even recognised a few paintings and sculptures from the books she had read in the last few years.

Even the gardens were a sight to behold.

A beautiful combination between lustrous metal and refreshing nature.

Every so often, she would see bright white, silver and gold sculptures, depicting random things-but mostly humanoid or beastly in design, surrounded by beautifully arranged flowers, bushes and natural ponds.

As a child, she could only admire the garden's beauty; however, what she did not know, and wouldn't know for quite a while, was that all these metallic statues were placed strategically.

Specifically for defensive purposes. Because these weren't any normal statues.

These were magically living statues, brought to life by heavily complicated blood rituals, that were currently asleep.

Of course, with her currently limited understanding of magic, she could not know that. All she could observe were the large amounts of magical energy contained in the statues and even that alone was hard to detect.

Lost in her wonder, it was only until due to a really loud explosion nearby that snapped her out of her daze.

Unable to contain her curiosity despite her dad's warnings that "explosions=danger" she went off to see the cause.

If she was lucky, hopefully Perenelle had also heard it and went to investigate.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Blasted Fudgecakes! Why can't I get this right?"

It was obvious that 8 year old Harry Flamel was not having the time of his life right now. He just couldn't figure out the blasted magic-to-blood ratio to successfully bring life to a statue of a magical creature.

Ritual magic for creating animated statues were ridiculously hard; over the millennia, he had read that only the likes of Helena Ravenclaw and Merlin Ambrosious-the two leading experts of ritual magic- were able to do such a thing.

Creating animate statues of magical creatures was even more difficult; the ritual circles required to produce such a thing were arguably the hardest to successfully create. Normal blood, even wizard blood, wasn't enough.

To create, say, a animate dragon statue, one needed the blood of said magical creature and a magical signature that was similar to it, otherwise the dragon statue would just attempt to imitate a human in mannerism and that was a ridiculous thought. A fifty feet four-legged dragon standing on its hind legs was ridiculous. There was probably a way to 'program' the dragon to act like a dragon, but he had no idea as to how he would do that.

Seeing as he was a human, his magical signature wasn't even close to resembling a dragon's-which were wild, draconic and bloody irregular in nature.

As an extremely ambitious 8-year old, and even that was undermining things, he was doing exactly that-creating an animate dragon statue, or miniature sculpture in this case. But despite the reduction in size, the rituals were still ridiculously hard-they were just smaller and less runes were required to direct the magic flow and circumvent the slight hitches in the sculpture.

Dragon blood was relatively simple to require with his resources, but attempting to change his magical signature to imitate a dragon's magical core was impossible! It was already hard to change one's magical signature to resemble another human's, it was more so for a giant, overgrown lizard with wings.

His foster mother, Perenelle Flamel, was another expert in blood rituals, as well as runes and defensive charms. But even she couldn't animate magical creatures.

Actually, he couldn't remember any books that cited living examples of such a thing; but there were theories, primarily from the rare research papers of Helena Ravenclaw that Nicholas Flamel had acquired over his longs years.

Which was he was so damn proud of himself, because-

*Flap Flap* *Sqwuak*

A metallic bird-resembling the historic vermillion birds of the south or a Phoenix-comprised of mithril and gold outlines and declared by small emerald and ruby jewels flew down and plopped itself next to his upright body.

Living proof that statues of magical creatures can be animated. He had no real idea as to why birds, specifically, could be animated by him. But he suspected that was because of one of his animagus forms, which could explain similarities between the magical cores of himself and magical birds.

But Phoenix fire, their life force, was extremely hard to obtain. Luckily enough, Dumbledore gave him samples as a birthday present-yet the timing was extremely convenient-he suspected Nicholas, his foster father, had told Dumbledore of his endeavours.

Bloody old coots really needed to mind their own business, he thought jokingly.

His animated Phoenix statue wasn't really immortal, but it's metallic parts could be regenerated really fast via a flash of Phoenix fire. It's eyes were literally a pair of bright orange flames, portraying the strength of their flames.

As it stared right at him with said eyes, though he was unable to observe any expressions due to that, he somehow had the feeling that it was amused by his ongoing failures.

Bloody annoying birds. If it weren't helping with fighting off those bloody creatures and super fast travel then he would've scrapped it...maybe...probably...okay, he wouldn't, but a boy could dream, couldn't he?

*Sqwuakk!*

"Oh shut it, I'm trying my best."

The mithril bird pecked his head, and it hurt!

"Owwww! What was that for?"

The bird looked to the left. Now that he wasn't so busy preparing some super advanced ritual, his enhanced senses picked up footsteps coming towards him.

One definitely belonged to Perenelle...but there was another one? One that was smaller, yet more energetic in movement and sound.

There was a visitor here? He didn't know that there were any coming today.

"Eunsae, we're done here." The bird nodded,

Collecting his wand, ritual dagger, books and research papers, Eunsae took them back, with the exception of his wand, to his room.

School was about to start so the visitor could be school faculty, or it could be the Ministry wishing to discuss the Stone. He wasn't expecting them though, well he was, but not so soon.

Or it could be the Vatican assigning them another mission, he wanted it to be a hunt-and-capture missions or another order of magically enchanted weapons and armour, those were the only type of missions that he could join anyway.

However, his theories were soon proven wrong. In a matter of seconds, a girl with blonde hair wrapped in a small ponytail came upon his training grounds.

She looked kind of familiar, probably from the newspaper or something.

XXXXXXXXXX

"May I help you?"

When Fleur ran towards the sight of the explosion, a half naked boy was not what she expecting to see...much to her embarrassment. The fact that he was ripped was not on her mind, though her gaze was mostly attracted to his small yet tightly muscular body, but her mind was processing the wanton destruction of the surrounding grounds.

What the deuce happened here?

Stone statues, shattered to a fault, laid everywhere; several craters were easy to sight; and these weird words were glowing blue on the bark of some trees.

"Ummm, hello, my name is Fleur Delacour. Are you acquainted with the grounds here?"

Normally she would ask for his identity, but she was a bit out of her normal state of mind due to recent events. The large amounts of magical energy she was exposed to here made her hyperactive and less prone to thinking about manners.

"Yes, I am." He replied back with a suspicious tone. "Did you come here with your father?"

She had no idea how he knew that but she nodded anyway.

The boy nodded back in understanding. It was always like this; those who wanted to meet Nicholas usually came here simply because the 600 year old man couldn't be bothered going outside for something as tedious as meetings while Perenelle always met her friends in the cities. She was an outgoing person like that; always dragging Nicholas with her to nightclubs. An ironic thought.

The man would be more inclined to stay at home, do some research and then cackle like a mad genius when he made a breakthrough as cued.

But he didn't recognise this girl. Children didn't usually come here, it was always business with these people and children, in particular, hated business.

"How did you come by this place?"

She was lost, she said so herself, and the gardens were huge and thick with deceptively random defence measures.

"I...Madam Perenelle was guiding me through the gardens, I...in my...excitement I...got lost." It was easy to tell that she was embarrassed by her confession.

He smiled warmly at her, as a reassurance that she had nothing to be embarrassed about.

She took it in kind and bowed a little.

"I would...really appreciate your help, you know, in getting back to the Mansion."

Chuckling a bit in response, Harry Flamel bowed his head in return as the fingers on his left hand clutched his chest and his right hand bought out in a flamboyant gesture.

"Very well, allow me the honour of escorting you, my lady."

XXXXXXXXXX

Walking back to the mansion was a simple task.

There was a special enchantment on the gardens that made it sort of sentient.

Similar to the stairways of Hogwarts, except without all the randomness, the tall bushes would sometimes realign themselves to allow ease of passage for the Flamel family to certain destinations within the grounds: such as the forge due west, the mountain hold behind the Manor or the training grounds in between the heavily fortified mountain hold and the Mansion etc...

As the two children walked through a simplified route back to the Mansion, Harry Flamel was patiently listening to Fleur's excited rants about the Flamel's, sometimes interchanging that information with her soon-to-be attendance at the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

What was most amusing was that she had yet to ask of his identity and background. Kaori would be appalled by such lack of awareness if it was coming from him. It was a refreshing change in pace though and a welcome change in atmosphere.

He had spent far too long on the other side.

So he continued to listen.

"...I've always wanted to go to Beauxbaton. There's only a few more weeks before term starts."

"Is that right? Do you have any aspirations yet?"

"I don't...I haven't really thought about it, but I guess...I've always wanted to be a professional Quidditch player. I love the sport, I like to play the seeker position."

Fleur's father, despite being a politician, absolutely loved the sport. Despite his initial, and very brief, disappointment at not having a son to play Quidditch with, he was infinitely more surprised yet delighted by the fact that Fleur took to the sport rapidly.

Harry was surprised by her answer. Female Quidditch pros were rare, but surprise soon turned into understanding. Her response allowed him some measure of insight into her personality.

People, not just females, who wanted to be 'different' were those who wanted to prove themselves, because they needed to show the sheep that they weren't just someone following in their parent's footsteps or some schmuck like that.

Those types of people were either wolves or lions. Someone who wanted to be different just for the sake of being different or someone who wanted to be different in order to lead the sheep towards a new path.

Harry, himself, was often surrounded by wolves and sometimes the rare lion(ess). But he reckoned, on this day, he had found himself another lion...or lioness.

But that was just an observation based off past interactions, it wasn't necessarily true.

It would take more than just one meeting to accurately, fully, discern the characteristics of one person; especially when they were female, he didn't know why, but sometimes, they were impossible to figure out for some reason.

"Mmmm hmmm."

"Then what about you? Do you like the sport?"

"Me? Well, I'm not as enthusiastic about playing the actual game as I am watching it. But I do like flying, I suppose." That was an understatement, and he knew it, he absolutely loved flying. Whether it be on brooms, jets or a bloody hippogriff.

"Is that so? Well, I can't wait to play with other kids my age. I'd like to play a full game sometime."

There was a story there, he reckoned, she probably lived an isolated life due to her family members, most likely her father, being influential members in society. Pretty stereotypical. Then again, he was in a similar predicament. It's just that he tended to hang out with the older age groups.

"Well, I'm not too sure about a full match, but how about we play together sometime? There's a Quidditch field not too far out."

She seemed shocked for a minute, but recovered herself fairly quickly.

"...I'd like that...thank you."

"No problem. So...Beauxbaton, huh? So, are you going to get your wand at the shops? Or do you already have one?"

"Already have one. My parents made me study early on so I know some of the stuff. I love practising DADA spells, they're pretty hard to do, well the third year ones I mean." She haughtily said, in a manner befitting of his own mother.

She seemed pretty proud at that, and he knew why; haven't attended the Academy yet, and already she was up to her third year materials. She had the makings of a fine duelist if what she said was true.

He wondered how well she would do in the other subjects; DADA was fine and all, but it wasn't everything.

He, himself, particularly loved Ancient Runes. That was probably because of his mother who was unofficially a leading expert in the field, and the best in his opinion (he's biased btw), practically taught him after the first time he accidentally yet successfully drew up a paired Rune by copying his mother...at the age of three.

He somehow made it alive out of that really dangerous 'blow up in your face' situation; Nicholas was laughing his guts out at the fact that a three year old, without any pre-existing knowledge on the subject, could do what most thirteen year olds, with the pre-existing, couldn't, but Perenelle went avian-shit-crazy on him, being unable to vent out her anger on a three year old baby.

But he digressed, hobbies had to start off somewhere. He loved the art mainly because of its intricacy, but also because of the unlimited potential the art itself had. Naruto was strangely enough a very big inspiration, you know with Minato Namikaze and his Teleport Spamming Seal, which strangely enough had the same concepts as Ancient Runes.

He wouldn't be surprised if Masashi Kishimoto was a wizard.

"So what about you? Are you going to start attending Beauxbatons Academy this year?"

It was a normal assumption, for an eight year old he was tall. Enough to be mistaken for a tall 11 year old, or a smaller-than-average 12 year old, kid.

But his situation was a bit...special. He wondered if he should tell her or not. Fleur was bound to figure it out eventually anyway, if she was attending this year.

"Well...you could say that. I-" "There you are!"

He was quickly interrupted by a familiar voice.

Both children looked towards the source of the sound and soon their gazes lingered upon the beautiful figure of one Perenelle Flamel, who was frantically running towards them.

Fleur also spotted another, tinier, figure right behind the mature Veela. However, she was unable to put a clear face to the figure that had long, flowing porcelain black hair and shining sapphire eyes.

"Miss Fleur, I was beginning to worry about you dear. Please don't run off like that next time."

Fleur nodded in embarassment. It was rude of her to just run off. However her reaction was weak in comparison to the boy next to her.

Wait...she just remembered...she didn't have a name to put together with that body. Really, what was wrong with her today? It's like she was five years old again.

Right now, the boy was frantically consoling, hands pointlessly waving around, the tinier female figure, who was running together with Perenelle beforehand and looked similar in age to her.

"Harry! I saw that explosion. What in Merlin's name were you doing back there? And without supervision? I told you to wait for me this morning when I went out for potion ingredients, couldn't you have waited two hours before you went to training!?"

"Uhhhh...no?" His answer was met with a smack to the head.

"Don't make me Stupefy you." She took out her wand.

Did anyone see the irony here?

"Hah, I'd like to see you try." He took his wand out as well. Fleur was dazzled by its brilliance, the wand was literally glowing even in the sunlight.

If she didn't already know that wands couldn't be made out of metal, she would've thought it made out of metal. The texture of the wand's exterior looked metallic, but she hadn't seen any metal that glowed so brilliantly.

But the girl's wand, it looked like black steel, cross-section lines cutting across the butt end of the wand. She didn't know what to think anymore, she really wanted to ask for the materials. They looked strangely metallic due to the really smooth surfaces, she thought.

Her own was made out of rosewood and custom-made by one of the finest wand makers in the century, but not even he could make her wand that smooth, that, or there was some kind of super secret wand maintenance that could produce such a sheen.

"Come on, fire the first spell, I dare you." The girl said slyly.

"Please, ladies first."

"Well, isn't that awfully convenient. Stu-OWWW!"

While flicking her wand the girl was interrupted by a chop to the head.

Perenelle had also smacked the boy's, Harry's, head.

"Oh save your lover's quarrel for another time. We have a guest here, mind you. I'd appreciate it if you take Miss Fleur back to the Manor."

"Lover's quarrel?" Harry asked hysterically despite his scarlet red face. "There's no way we're l-YOWWWEEE, stop interrupting me, Selene, for Merlin's sake." Before he could deny Perenelle's claims, someone stepped on his toe. One look and he knew Selene was the culprit. Although he didn't know why she was pouting.

"Idiot."

"What did you just call me?"

"Stupid, stupid idiot." She rolled her tongue at him.

"I'll have you know that I'm the smar-YOOWWW, why does everyone keep interrupting me!?" Yanked on the ear, Perenelle dragged him off towards the Manor.

"Hmmmph, serves the idiot right." Fleur looked a little amused, if not confused, as she saw the girl cross her arms, puff her chest out, in a self-righteous manner...that is, before she was magically yanked on the ear and pulled towards the older Veela.

(Wandless Magic!) Fleur thought with amazement.

"You're in trouble too, young Miss. For Merlin's sake, kids these days, always in denial; why don't you just skip that and get to the kissing already? Nicholas and I certainly didn't waste time on that."

Fleur was blushing madly at the way Madam Perenelle was so freely talking about M rated content, there are things people should say in front of children. And things they shouldn't.

"Come, Miss Fleur, I think it is about time you met my husband, no? You were excited to meet him before."

Fleur blushed even more when she remembered her earlier fan-girlish behaviour.

"So cute!" Madam Perenelle cooed. "See, Selene, why can't you be as girly and proper as Miss Fleur here?"

"What!? Are you saying I'm not girly enough?"

Harry did a mix between a snort and guffaw.

"Girly? You?" He asked sceptically as if mixing those two words would produce an alien product. "Hah, please, Kaori is more girly than you and she's one of the most serious, macho girls I know."

It was only after that when Fleur would come to know Selene as a bit of a tomboy.

Which was only certified by Selene flexibly kicking Harry in the face, thoroughly insulted by his remark.

Which only started a mini fight between them. Madam Perenelle had to hold them by the collar to keep them apart while having an exasperated expression on her face. It took a while before she realised that the two children didn't have their wands anymore, it was on Madam Perenelle's belt.

Following them hastily, she was thoroughly amused by the ongoing cat fight between Selene and Harry. She only wished she had popcorn with her.

Still, it must be nice, Fleur thought longingly. She wondered if she would be able to find friends like that at Beauxbatons.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Another fight?" Nicholas looked at the two with an understanding gaze and smiled mischievously.

"Ah, young love. So who was the M and who was the S this time? Even Perenelle wasn't this kinky when we were young and starting out." He had a reminiscent expression on his face, but it looked extremely fake.

Both Harry and Selene growled at him, but they couldn't do anything while they were held by the collar. Nicholas took it in stride and looked towards the Delacour pair.

"Well, I hope you enjoyed your brief visit here. You can visit anytime, Miss Fleur. Merlin knows that Harry really needs to hang out with other children more." Harry was about to argue before Nicholas countered.

"Schoolmates don't count."

Harry glared back at him. Both children had calmed down by now, but they tried their best not to look at each other, both with a childish pout on their faces.

Fleur was also confused by what Nicholas was implying. From what she was hearing, it sounded like Harry was already going to school. She could've sworn he was the same age as her or maybe he was a year older than her...it was possible.

While she pondered this, Bastien couldn't get to the crux of Harry's identity. Nicholas had told him about his heir, male in gender and already attending the latter years of Beauxbatons Academy under a different name. But this boy here could only be around 11-12 years old judging from height, so it couldn't be him.

"So...is anyone going to introduce me to these two fine young children? Are they your apprentices?" It was the closest thing to a possible answer he had. He sighted Harry first then his gaze wandered to the girl only to find that she was no longer near them.

Wandering around a bit more, his eyes finally locked on to the girl. She was near a small bush talking to something.

With his eyes busy on Selene, he didn't notice the mischievous expression on Nicholas's face.

The master alchemist nudged the young boy next to him.

"Come on, it's time for introductions. Tell Miss Fleur and her father about you."

Sighing a bit, then smiling that same mischievous smile Nicholas usually wore, Harry looked towards the Delacour pair.

"Forgive me for the late introductions."

On cue, four priceless rings materialised on his left fingers.

"I am Harry Ares Flamel, the unofficially proven heir to the Flamel, Potter, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor lines; Prodigy Alchemist-in-training and the residential eight-year old fifth year super genius at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. At your service, Minister Delacour."

Just like before, he bowed towards the stunned Delacours in a flamboyant manner.

Their shock was only intensified by the hissing sound behind them. Looking back, they saw Selene...with a viper curled around her shoulders, it's head coiling down towards her left finger which had one silver ring with a snake pattern and a small emerald jewel embedded between the mouth.

"And I...am Selene Slytherin, the heir proven worthy by Salazar Slytherin's will; parseltongue and twelve year old fifth year student at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. The pleasure is all yours, I'm sure." She haughtily said, though there was tad hint of mischievousness and joking in her tone.

Nicholas stood behind them, laughing merrily at the Delacour's expense.

He patted both children's heads, ignoring the viper's threatening hiss towards his direction.

"Aren't they great or what?"

And that's the end of this prologue. I hoped you enjoy this chapter and will stay for more.

Next chapter will start the Beauxbatons arc; I know its unbelievable that Harry is already in fifth year at school but hey it's fan fiction based on a fantasy book it's not supposed to make sense.

As for the school arc, I'm hoping to make it unique in a sense that Hogwarts couldn't with its house system. There will be hierarchies and all that, just in a different format in Beauxbatons.

Don't get your twists in a knock; Harry will eventually go to Hogwarts, it's why half of this chapter talked about the stone.

I will also, eventually, explain relationships. Kanzaki Kaori, for one, is from To Aru Majutsu no Index just younger in this fic.

Selene Slytherin is an OC obviously and the Hufflepuff heir thing is another thing I added to Harry's resume. How she gets to know Harry will eventually be revealed in a future flashback or something.

If you want Harry to pair with someone, just write the person's name in the reviews. But I'm not planning on Harry having like every girl that he comes across.