New York City, August 18th 2016

Anybody who lived in New York City would all say one thing in common: it was never boring. It seemed as if every corner contained at least one super battle. Of course, a lot of people were terrified, but after the Registration Act was almost passed, maony began to truly appreciate their heroes. However, there were always going to be those who despised supers no matter their goodness which was why six-year-old Harry Potter found himself abandoned in the chaotic city.

Initially, the Dursleys had planned to leave "the freak" at home, while they would be in New York City for Vernon's business meeting for Grunning's Drills. Unfortunately for Harry, who was rather looking forward to being home alone, the Dursleys felt that Harry would "blow up the house" or take advantage of his temporary freedom (Harry did admit in his head that he would have done the latter). Plus, it would have been nice to get away from his Uncle and Dudley's fists, while also not being starved and neglected by his aunt. Thus, Harry was literally dragged along to New York City with the Dursleys, but – Harry thought optimistically – at least he would see New York City for real. Unfortunately, Harry would then learn to be careful what you wish for, when the Dursleys decided to abandon him, their laughter loud and mocking as they sauntered away.

That was two days ago.

Harry, who was already skinny with scrawny knees and smaller than his age would suggest, was almost skin and bones now. For the past two days, his only sources of nourishment were what restaurants had thrown away, with the occasional free snack from those kind enough to take pity. His messy jet-black hair was filthy, and his naturally pale skin had turned sickly, as if death had already claimed him. Even Harry's usually bright green eyes seemed dulled, by living on the streets. The only thing that remained the same was the scar on his forehead shaped like a lightning bolt.

To make matters worse, a flaming car came hurtling towards him, as he tried to use his 'magic' ("there is no such thing as magic!" Uncle Vernon had shouted), to steal a leftover cupcake from an abandoned café table. Harry could only shut his eyes and use his pale, scrawny arms to shield himself waiting for the end.

33-year-old Colonel Carol Danvers aka Ms Marvel was patrolling the area via flight near Grunning's Drills HQ, when she saw the rather large explosion occur originating from within the building. Carol was six-foot tall with long, wavy blonde hair and blue eyes that showed wisdom and a strong sense of command. Her uniform as 'Ms Marvel' was a black leotard with a yellow lightning bolt going down the middle of it as well as a red sash around her waist. Black, thigh-high boots and a black domino mask completed the outfit. The leotard was practically skin-tight and showed off Carol's amazing hourglass figure. Her large breasts seemed as if they were struggling to break free from the leotard.

Not to forget an ass that would make Kim Kardashian envious (especially because it was real), along with a flat yet toned stomach and long legs that seemed to go on forever, made Ms Marvel a source of envy for many women around the world. The statuesque superheroine could easily have become a supermodel ("should have" as her misogynistic father had said) but instead Carol had decided to pursue her dream of joining the U.S. Air Force. Therefore, after years of training, Carol achieved her dream which eventually led to becoming Ms Marvel after exposure to Kree technology. Although, as of late, Carol was thinking of changing her costume for something more 'family-friendly and to stand for something else besides sex appeal.

Floating several feet above the source of the explosion, Carol surveyed the site and breathed a sigh of relief that no-one was around. That sense of relief was short-lived when she saw a flaming car catapulted by the explosion and on a direct path to a young, malnourished boy. However, before Carol could get halfway to the boy, a blue dome-shaped, transparent shield suddenly protected the boy from the projectile.

"What the-?"

Carol took a step forward, only to swiftly dodge an attacking doombot and then punch its head into the ground in a shower of sparks. She then turned towards the explosion, only to see at least half a dozen more doombots ready to attack.

Guess we know the source of the explosion.

The doombots rushed towards Carol, who quickly got into a battle stance. She punched the first doombot into the ground and then threw its body into another doombot. When the remaining four fired lasers at her, Carol easily absorbed their energy before firing back and destroying them. Unbeknownst to Carol, another doombot was behind her and lunged.

"Watch out!" Harry called out, dropping his shield and raising his right arm at the doombot.

Carol pivoted to face the doombot, only to get a face full of explosion when the doombot exploded. Thankfully, due to her invulerability, Carol merely blinked when it exploded a few feet away from her face. She then turned to face Harry, who looked ready to bolt at any second.

"Are you okay?" Carol asked gently, as she floated down in front of him.

Harry nodded. "What's your name, kid?"

At first, Carol thought that he would not answer and simply bolt – not that she could not stop him. Yet, after a few minutes of tense silence, he spoke with a timid smile.

"Harry. Harry Potter."

Carol smiled and crouched down to his eye level.

"I'm Ms Marvel. That was a cool trick you did back there."

This seemed to be the wrong thing to say, as Harry's timid smile fell and fear became apparent in his bright green eyes.

"I'm sorry!" Carol noticed that Harry's eyes were darting across the street for a quick getaway.

Carol frowned. He had done nothing wrong, and yet judging by the fear of God swimming in those bright green eyes, Harry was downright afraid that she was going to be angry or upset.

"You don't need to apologise, Harry. You would have saved my life if I wasn't so invulnerable." Carol could see that he was still in doubt. "You did a good thing, Harry."

At this encouragement, Harry relaxed significantly and cracked a small smile, which Carol thought was pretty cute. However, she frowned and narrowed her eyes when she took in Harry's malnourished state and rags for clothing.

"Where are your parents?" Carol's frown deepened when Harry shook his head. "Uncles? Aunts?"

From the look of intense fear from Harry at the mention of Aunts and Uncles, Carol could feel dread develop inside of her. That dread was rapidly replaced with fury when she took a good look at Harry and saw several small, thin scars that looked quite a few years old near his left shoulder. You did not have to be Reed Richards to make a connection!

"Harry, I'm going to take you to a nearby hospital, to check for any internal injuries," Carol explained gently. Harry stiffened. "I will not let anything happen to you."

"Promise?"

Carol's heart broke at the softness and vulnerability in Harry's voice, as he looked into her with those terrified bright green eyes. Harry's aunt and uncle were never EVER going to get their hands on him again! Not if Ms Marvel had anything to say about it!

"I promise, Harry. Now, hold on tight."

Carol picked Harry up so that he could wrap his arms around her neck and his legs around her waist. He was so light that – even without super strength – Carol would have found it heartbreakingly easy like she did now. Harry burrowed his face against her neck and began to cry, continuing to do so even after they had landed in front of the hospital entrance.

"We're here, kid."

Harry blushed, as he slowly let go of Carol and shakily stood next to her, as they entered the hospital – tightly holding her hand as they did so.

"Are you okay, Ms Marvel?" Harry asked timidly, his eyes still cautious and wary of the surroundings.

Carol smiled at him while internally in disbelief that Harry was asking about her well-being when he looked almost like the living dead.

"I'm fine, Harry. I have been through worse in the decade – ten years." Carol clarified at the look of confusion in Harry's face. "I became Ms Marvel when I was twenty-three, so yeah I am old."

"But you aren't old!" Harry objected, thinking that Carol was serious. "You look way younger than..." He mentally added ten to twenty-three. "... Thirty-three."

Carol grinned, and Harry blushed. "Well, aren't you a charmer!"

They turned a corner, only to face a middle-aged man wearing a fabulous red cape and several mystical ornaments on his being. He was tall – two inches taller than Carol – and gave off an arrogant yet also humble aura. His black hair was greying along the sides, and yet his face showed few signs of aging, especially if you knew his real age.

"Jesus, Strange!" Carol glared at the smirking sorcerer, while Harry's grip on her hand tightened. "I have company."

Dr Steven Strange's smirk was replaced with a thoughtful frown, as his eyes took in the sight of Harry and then the infamous scar.

"Come with me." The Sorcerer Supreme motioned to the adjacent unoccupied hospital room.

Harry did not budge, despite a part of him saying that he should go into the room. His feet were rooted to the spot, until Carol bent down to his eye-level with a mixture of concern and sympathy in her sharp, blue eyes.

"You can trust him, Harry. Steven may be manipulative sometimes, but he is a good guy. He's a superhero like me."

Dr Strange snorted but refrained from commenting that "superhero" was oversimplifying what he did.

"Ms Marvel will ensure that no harm comes upon you, and so will I," Strange said softly. He motioned to the unoccupied room again. "Now, there are matters of grave importance concerning you, Mister Potter."

Harry gulped, and for a second, Carol was afraid that he was not going to budge. Fortunately, and much to Carol's pride, Harry steeled himself and both of them entered the unoccupied hospital room. Or, at least, it was a hospital room. Now, it was a luxurious sitting area where shelves upon shelves of books on practically every imaginable subject – from scientific to the mystical – surrounded the sitting area. A large green armchair and a small, circular oak table were placed in front of a cosy fireplace – the mantelpiece full of cosmic and mystical trinkets. Needless to say, Carol was surprised by the change of scenery, but Harry was in absolute awe.

"Welcome to my study." Dr Strange chuckled and noted that Carol recovered fairly quickly, while Harry's mouth was still open in awe. At least, Harry would no longer have to go back to those retched Dursleys again.

As he was an incredibly busy man (understatement of all time), Steven could not keep tabs on the British Wizarding World 24/7. Therefore, when Steven had found out about what had happened to the "Boy-Who-Lived"– as the morons had dubbed their saviour in their sheer originality – Steven was furious at where the boy had ended up. Not only was Harry neglected at Number 4 Privet Drive, the boy was physically, verbally and emotionally abused by his 'family'. Do not even get him STARTED on the soul fragment in Harry's scar! That hideous abomination was going to be an easy fix (he was not Sorceror Supreme for nothing). After that, the blood wards around Number 4 Privet Drive would be relocated to Harry's new, loving home — most likely Carol Danvers' apartment if Harry's attachment to the superheroine being an indication to where the boy wanted to live. Regardless, as Albus Dumbledore was going to find out, Harry was never going back to the Dursleys.

"This is amazing!" Harry couldn't help but state out loud, as he surveyed the whole study. If the Dursleys were here, they would abuse him for making such a harmless compliment.

"Indeed." Dr Strange smiled warmly. After all, those who had even seen/been in his study loved it. "And it is a good thing that you will see more of it when you train with me."

Carol – who was busy gauging Harry's emotions – quirked an eyebrow and narrowed her eyes at Dr Strange, when it clicked: Harry was magical and must be powerful in his magic. On the other hand, Harry's eyes widened with slight fear in them, but before the boy could jump to the wrong conclusion(s), Dr Strange began to explain.

"You are a wizard, Harry. No, that does not sound right." Dr Strange frowned and rubbed his chin. For some weird reason, he felt that it should have been announced differently. Nevertheless, with a shrug of his shoulders, he continued with his explanation.

"Harry, you are more than just a wizard. You are more powerful than you can imagine." He waited to gauge Harry's reaction – mostly fear with some realization. Good. "You are Harry James Potter, son of James Potter and Lily Potter née Evans. To most of the Wizarding World on Earth, you are known as 'The Boy Who Lived': Vanquisher of the Dark Lord Voldemort a.k.a. Tom Riddle Junior. On Halloween of 2011, Tom Riddle was vanquished as a result of your mother's sacrifice. Unfortunately, a piece of his soul latched onto your scar."

Dr Strange touched Harry's scar which caused the latter to squirm and hold onto Carol's hand.

"Instead of leeching your life force and weakening you, it seems as if you leeched off of the soul fragment. This strengthened your already powerful magic to new levels. However, it is still vital for it to be removed, in what I assure you is a painless process."

Harry glanced back at Carol who gave his hand a comforting squeeze. He nodded and mustered his courage.

"Okay."

Dr Strange nodded, and with a slight 'pull', extracted the soul fragment from Harry's forehead. With a snap of his fingers, the Sorcerer Supreme destroyed the piece of Voldemort's soul.

"Now, on to the matter of who will become your new guardian."

Harry bit his lip and glanced back at Carol.

What if she doesn't want me? Who would want a freak like me?

Meanwhile, Carol was debating with herself. A part of her wanted to tell Harry that, as a superhero and a colonel, she would be too busy not to mention dangerous for him. On the other hand, a much greater part of her argued that Harry was powerful and could handle himself once properly trained. Most importantly, Harry needed a proper, loving home, and it's not like she could worse than the relatives who abandoned him. Right?

In the end, the decision was as clear as day.

"I will be his new guardian, if you'll have me, that is?" Carol added softly. She could already feel some sort of connection with Harry. She took off her domino mask. "I'm Carol Danvers."

Harry, who was trying hard not to cry in disbelief and joy, instead simply engulfed her in a hug and sobbed onto her shoulder. A shocked and overjoyed Carol patted his back and spoke gentle words of reassurance, as years of pent up emotions flooded out.

As Dr Strange gazed at the loving scene in front of him, he caught glimpses of the future (or at least possible futures). He saw Harry and Carol, hand-in-hand going to the zoo; he saw Harry celebrate his tenth birthday surrounded by various superheroes (and Deadpool for some godforsaken reason) in Carol's apartment. Yet, what made Dr Strange raise his eyebrows in intrigue was when he saw a naked teenage Harry thrusting his cock into his new mother's pussy from behind on Carol's bed, pulling on her hair with one hand while the other held onto her hip, as he thrusted. Both were clearly enjoying it, especially if Carol's orgasms were anything to go by. The glimpse ended as soon as Harry grabbed onto Carol's large breasts which were swinging slightly with each of his thrusts.

"Steven, what's wrong?"

Carol was still holding onto the sobbing Harry — her son.She narrowed his eyes at the Sorcerer Supreme in an effort to decipher what he had seen. If it was something bad to do with Harry, as his new guardian (When/If Harry was going to consider her his mother was up to him), she had the right to know.

"Nothing to worry about, Colonel Danvers." Steven gave her an enigmatic smile which barely did anything to alleviate her concerns. "The future is bright."

Dr Strange teleported out of his study towards Albus Dumbledore's office, to 'convince' (tell) the headmaster of Harry's new living conditions, leaving the new mother and son alone. After all, it was going to be quite a few years before leaving them alone with each other would result in anything more than maternal love.