Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Only the original characters and plot are the property of this author. This author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media or franchise that is depicted within this story. No copyright infringement is intended, as there will be no profit made from this story by its author. The only places that this author has personally posted this story are on Archive of Our Own, and on Fanfiction*net; anywhere else that this story appears, is a duplicate created by parties unknown and without the express permission of the author of this story.

Author's Note: This first chapter will undoubtedly seem to be flying by too fast for many people's liking. I did that on purpose. There will be flashbacks to things that occurred during the gaps between each scene in this chapter later on in this story. The main reason I did it this way is because I honestly want as little to do with certain elements in the Harry Potter universe as I possibly can obtain… namely the Dursley family, but mostly Marge.

xXx The Saga of the Martian Who Lived xXx
xXx Chapter 01: The Boy Meets His Girl xXx

xXx Chapter Begins xXx

With wide green eyes, a young man's head swiveled in awed disbelief as he took in the utterly devastated scenery before him. There was very little in the way of actual terrain that one could reasonably walk across to reach any sort of destination within this barren landscape. However, suspended in midair just a few feet ahead of his current location was the form of a young girl around his own age.

What bothered the young man about this girl though, was that she was suspended in a pose that he vaguely recognized as being reminiscent of the pose one takes upon being crucified, though there was no cross nor nails. Mustering up his courage, the young man called out, "Hey, are you okay?"

The eyes of the girl, which up until that moment had been closed, snapped open and looked around frantically for a moment before locking onto the form of the young man before her, "Who are you? How did you get here?"

"Oh, um… I'm not really sure how I got here. One minute I was falling asleep, next minute… bam, here I am. As for who I am, most people just call me 'freak' or something similar. You didn't answer my question, are you okay?" the young man replied to the girl that was floating in the air.

She tilted her head slightly in confusion, "Why would they call you a freak?"

"No idea," the young man replied in honest confusion, "I think it has something to do with how my parents were allegedly 'no good layabouts,' but I only recently began to comprehend the fact that what people tell me isn't what they are really thinking. I'm still having trouble sorting things out… people's thoughts are too loud most of the time."

"I guess that explains your presence here. You are an awakening telepath, and I just happened to be within range of you when we were both falling asleep," the girl replied as she slowly floated down to the ground.

"What is a telepath?" the boy asked.

"We are," the girl replied, "Well more accurately, I am an Empath. Basically the terms mean that you can sense people's thoughts, while I can sense their emotions. Although I should warn you that some people will likely either sense your presence in their minds, or have some form of protection against it, which I should probably consider adding to my own mind at some point… hmm, perhaps some emoticlones will work."

"Right… we should probably properly introduce ourselves… I don't think I want a cute and intelligent girl calling me freak all the time," the boy said prompting the girl to develop a faint dusting of pink upon her cheeks, "Anyways, my name is…"

"Your name is H'ree," a new voice intruded, "Though this was certainly not where I expected we'd be having our discussion, my dearest."

Both children whirled around to find themselves facing an extremely odd looking, though vaguely feminine creature. The creature tilted her head for a moment before speaking without moving her mouth, "My appearance no doubt confuses the two of you doesn't it?"

"Er…" the boy, that had just been identified as H'ree by this creature, stuttered out.

The girl however tilted her head and asked, "Just how did a member of an extinct race get into my mind?"

The creature regarded her for a moment before seeming to sigh and telepathically replying, "You can blame my son for this Miss Roth, I am merely an interactive memory fragment that was encoded into his mind so that he would have someone to explain what is going on when his abilities first begin emerging."

The now named Miss Roth frowned momentarily, before turning to regard H'ree and snarking, "Aren't you supposed to be green?"

"White technically," the elder of the three occupants of the dreamscape stated, causing confusion to bloom on Miss Roth's face.

"Boys Are from Mars, Girls Are from Azarath," the creature sang out.

"But wasn't the title of that book, 'Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus'?" Harry complained.

The girl standing next to him reached over and bopped him upside the head. She then pulled back her hand and shook it a few times, "Oww, what in the Abyss' name is your head made out of?"

"He likely instinctively adjusted his density to protect himself from your fist, Rachel," the female Martian stated, "Which is quite understandable given his home life these past several years."

Rachel's eyes widened and before any of them could really blink, she had dragged Harry into a tight hug, "Sorry, I didn't know! I had a similar.. Well sort of similar, upbringing."

Her left eye then twitched as she felt something within her mind shift, "What did you just do?"

Harry looked up at the female Martian and asked, "What did I just do?"

The older Martian seemed to be trying to contain a giggle, however she eventually hummed in an amused manner before telepathically replying, "It would seem my son has already decided upon a life-mate. In any case, I should really be explaining things for the two of you…"

xXxXxXx

The week immediately following his having first encountered the two females had gone by in nothing less than a blur. During the days he had to do his usual set of chores as was always expected of him by his ponderous whale of an Uncle and his equine faced Aunt. He had by now come to the understanding that there was literally nothing but legal red tape binding him to the Dursley Family, and even that could only ever do so much.

His nights however were spent in the company of Rachel Arella Roth, his newly discovered life-mate, and a girl who while initially annoyed by his continued presence within her mind, had finally started to begin showing signs that she appreciated his presence even if she tried to maintain an emotional distance.

Their time together usually consisted of Rachel helping Harry go over the exercises that she had been using to shield her mind from being assaulted by what she referred to as 'Psycho-Empathic White Noise' which was her attempt at a clinical expression for their ability to hear the background thoughts, or in her case emotions, of every single person within a few street blocks of their location.

When Harry entered their mutual mindscape that evening however, he had to pause for a moment to blink in surprise. He then walked right up to Rachel and said, "Since when have you had sisters?"

That caused the yellow and brown clone to palm their faces, while the orange clone belched, the pink and green clones simply laughed. The two that Harry was facing however looked at him confusedly, one was in a red robe, and the other in a purple robe.

"Which of the two of us are you talking to, Harry?" the purple clone asked.

Harry waved dismissively at the red clone, "That is obviously the sister with daddy issues… so I'd like to think that you are the correct Rachel, am I wrong?"

That got another chuckle out of the pink and green clones, while the yellow sighed and said, "Technically we are all different versions of Rachel. We represent her different emotions. Though the one you are probably looking for is over that hill," she then pointed to a hill just a dozen feet away.

Harry considered that for a moment, "If we were older, I'd probably think I just died and went to heaven, wouldn't I?"

That got a snicker out of the purple robbed version of his mate while the others blushed, "We'll discuss such things when we are a bit older, Harry. Now go see Rachel-prime."

Harry nodded, though he frowned when he sensed the hostility directed towards him from the red cloaked version, so he bounded up and drew the surprised embodiment of rage into a hug, "Just because you have issues with your father, doesn't mean I'll ever stop loving you, Rae. Now be a good clone and play nice with your sisters."

He then released the clone and dashed away, leaving a group of highly confused doppelganger's behind him, "Did… did he just hug our rage… and not get pounded into the ground for it?"

"Oh I foresee a highly entertaining future for all of us," Passion said with a sly grin.

Over the other side of the cliff the eyes of the original Rachel snapped open as she downloaded that entire set of interactions and found herself confused over what just happened. When Harry reached her, she dryly commented, "I think the fact that Rage didn't try and creme you can be taken as evidence that even my father approves of you. Rage is basically a manifestation of both my own rage and the door to my father's prison… huh, how did I know that?"

"I might have read her mind and forwarded it to you," Harry admitted.

"You… how?"

"It is really easy for me to read you, Rae, you do realize that, right? I know those clones were supposed to protect you from active mental intrusions, but we are bondmates, you are pretty much an open book to me," Harry admitted sorrowfully, "I'm sorry."

"No, you have no reason to be sorry. I'm actually glad you can read me that easily. If you hadn't, I wouldn't have known about that little flaw in my security grid, the one where my rage is the door to my father's prison, possibly not until it was far too late to do anything about it. Now with your help, perhaps we can figure out a more effective locking system. I'd hate to simply get angry one day and unleash the elder demon unintentionally, after all."

Harry smiled happily at her and said, "Yeah, of course, whatever you want, Rae!"

xXxXxXx

It had been two months since Harry first met Rachel in his dreams. The two had steadily been working on their respective capabilities, and they now both possessed a reasonably useful psychic or empathic attack. As such, today would hopefully be the last day Harry ever spent in the company of his relatives.

Harry was walking in the shadow of his aunt next to his cousin when he heard his favorite voice call out, "H'ree, we are set to begin."

Petunia whirled around, while the name was pronounced differently, it was similar enough to the pronunciation of 'Harry' that it was hard to mistake who was being spoken to. However, because she performed such a spectacular spin, she failed to notice it when Harry's eyes glowed just a bit more intensely than they normally did, and then any ability she once had to perceive the world outside her own mind began shutting off all at once. Dudley however, found himself subjected to an intensely agonizing depression that caused him to collapse as his entire reason for living seemed to run away from him.

Rachel walked up to Harry, tilted her head to look at the woman flailing around on the ground and moaning about how she can't see. Rachel then regarded Harry and said, "Will she ever recover?"

Harry contemplated that for a few moments, "Um… I'm not entirely sure. We should probably get out of here."

He then frowned, "What is wrong with Dudley?"

"I basically just gave him insight into what it means to be a teenager," Rachel snarked.

"How would either of us know what it means to be a teenager, we're both ten," Harry replied dryly as the two started walking off.

"Oh, hmm… I suppose that's a good point," Rachel admitted. She then shrugged and declared, "I'm sure he'll be fine when it wears off."

Harry sighed, "We're terrible people, aren't we?"

"No, they were for treating you the way they did. This is just the easiest way for us to get you out from under their care," Rachel adamantly rebuffed. "It would have been riskier with the whale around."

xXxXxXx

Two hours and lots of walking later, they arrived at where Raven was holing herself up. "Well this is somewhat…"

"A total dump, yes, I know," Rachel admitted with a dejected sigh. She was basically residing inside of a shelled out warehouse on the east end of Little Whinging. It had taken them so long to reach it because they were on foot, and neither of them had figured out a faster mode of travel just yet, though Rachel was certain she was just looking in the wrong book.

"So, I'm guessing you're an orphan just like me, well other than your demon father that is, right?" Harry asked.

"You mean you haven't simply read my mind for that specific piece of information?" Rachel inquired, "Why?"

Harry rubbed his head sheepishly, "Well, I'd rather be invited to be a part of your life, rather than simply intrude like I did initially, for which I can't begin to…"

"Stop, you don't need to continue apologizing. I've forgiven you for it," Rachel admitted. She then frowned, "But to answer your question, Harry… I'm not sure what happened. Things were a bit rushed and I don't really remember much. I'm also not entirely clear on everything there is to know about Earth Culture, but I am fairly certain… well there is only one bed…"

Harry's face flushed, "Yes, that will be a bit awkward."

"I could try… um… using meditation instead of actual sleep," Rachel offered.

"And doing that, I'd lose my opportunities to torment Rage and get away with it," Harry replied amusedly, causing Rachel to flush in both embarrassment and amusement.

"I still don't understand how you get away with half the stuff you subject her to on a regular basis," Rachel responded as she walked over to a window and looked out of it. "Hell, I'm surprised I'm able to express as much emotion as I am without unleashing my father."

Harry walked up behind her, and then placed his hand against her head and then intoned, "My mind to your mind… my thoughts to your thoughts…"

Rachel snorted, "I may not be very well versed on Earth Culture, but my mother was a Trekkie of the worst sort, you'll have to do better than that, Harry. What did you actually do?"

"I left a telepathic clone of me in there to run interference with Rage for us. Has all my capabilities and knowledge, which means Rage is at a fundamental disadvantage," Harry admitted.

"I… I beg your pardon?" Rachel asked in confusion.

"Martians aren't just telepaths, we're very bloody strong," Harry admitted, "And take a metric crap tonne to take out. Which means that since your skills are more aligned to the metaphysical, and your emoticlones are similar, they are at a disadvantage unless they are all teaming up, and why would the nice clones help the mean clone? Plus, I think Rage subconsciously likes the attention."

Rachel's eyes widened considerably, "That… oh wow. Thank you, Harry."

"Sure thing, Rae."

xXxXxXx

A loud crash sounded as the window to an antique store in a downtown section of Godalming, Surrey was smashed in. A squat overweight man with beaklike nose and who was wearing a finely tailored suit that was at least two sizes too small for him, and who was carrying an umbrella over his shoulder, waddled into the shop as he directed his goons to start collecting any valuables.

Unfortunately for these arseholes, it just so happened that Rachel was currently inside of the shop, with a pair of headphones over her ears as she listened to some music from her favorite band. Oddly, on Harry's suggestion, she had stopped wearing the cape and cowl, and was now dressed in an outfit straight out of Japanese Pop-culture, which she had initially protested, until Harry admitted it made her look cute. She was dressed as an Elegant Gothic Lolita.

A hand grabbed her shoulder causing her to tilt her head. She saw that it was a man, and he pointed at his ear, clearly indicating her headphones, so she took them off, and he said, "I told you to put your hands in the air!"

Rachel's delicate eyebrow raised as she asked, "Are you robbing me?"

"Yes…"

"Oh…" was all she said before she hit him with a devastating wave of mind crippling fear. She then sent a telepathic memo to Harry, "We've got robbers in Old Tim's shop, Harry… and it looks like they are packing... I believe the correct slang term is 'heat.'"

"Right. I'm on my way, Rae," Harry replied.

Rachel had just enough time to raise a wall of shadow in front of her before her position was bombarded with a hail of bullets from the other end of the room. She did manage to save the life of the man who she struck down with fear a few seconds earlier.

Sighing to herself, Rachel muttered, "I really need to consider more practical offensive attacks, however…" she raised a hand in the direction that she knew a metal filing cabinet was located, and uttered "Azarath, Metrion, ZINTHOS!"

She then jerked her hand in the direction of the hail of gunfire and a loud crash was heard as the filing cabinet plowed through at least ten people, bringing a halt to the gunfire. A voice, clearly belonging to the leader of the goons called out with surprise, "Eh… what in the blazes is this?"

Before any reply could be given to the squat man, what sounded like a brick being dropped into a jello mold from fifty feet in the air was heard, followed by a body hitting the ground. Rachel tentatively lowered her defensive shadows and looked towards the other side of the shop with wide eyes, "What did you do, Harry?"

Harry was staring at his hand with shock written across his face, "Um…"

Rachel walked up, trying to maintain her composure and knelt down next to the penguin-like man whose face was going to need serious cosmetic surgery no matter what happened, his nose would never be the same. In any case, Rachel placed a hand on his chest and began drawing out the pain that he was in as she took it into herself, thereby healing him at least to the point where his life wasn't in danger.

When she finished, she looked up at Harry and dryly remarked, "Next time you want to drop a criminal, do it in a way that won't require me saving their life, a punch to the gut for example?"

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly.

Sighing she said, "Take me home, Harry, I'm about to collapse due to his pain and need to sleep it off."

Harry caught the girl right as she fainted, pulling her into a bridal carry, he sighed to himself and said, "It is at times like this that I wish I could figure out the flying thing."

With that, he stalked out of the shop, completely ignoring the absolutely stunned passersby, though giving a short nod to the owner of the shop, if only because the two children were frequent visitors of his. Harry was also erasing their presence from the minds of their audience and the criminals as he walked. The only one who would even know either of them had been near the shop was the owner.

What Harry didn't know is that the actions of both himself and Raven were noticed by two entirely different groups of people for two entirely different sets of reasons.

xXxXxXx

Bruce Wayne would likely be frightened to realize that there was a person within Britain that was probably more paranoid than he was. That said, he was still paranoid enough to have created surveillance drones the size of the common house fly and have had them sent out to track pretty much every known criminal he had ever heard of if he could find their current hiding place.

It was however, probably just a coincidence that he had been interrogating his surrogate niece, Zatanna Zatara, about how she had managed to discover the Batcave, when the monitor flicked on alerting him to a crime in progress.

What followed after that, had Zatanna giggling up a storm. Bruce tilted his head to regard the young girl, "Clearly you noticed something I failed to see, what is it?"

"Well, aside from the obvious use of magic by the girl, I recognized the boy that clobbered beak nose. Though more to the point, I'm confused by what how he did what he did to said beak nose. Regardless of being able to tank 140 pound flying bowling balls, members of that particular sub-branch of the Homo-Magi species aren't normally capable of caving a person's face in with their fist. In fact most would prefer not to get that close to an enemy," Zatanna explained.

"Oh… please do tell me you aren't talking about the Wizards?" Bruce complained in annoyance.

"Obviously that is who I meant," Zatanna admitted.

"Are they still under the delusion that they are successfully capable of hiding themselves in this day and age?" Bruce asked, even as they watched about a dozen people appear out of thin air and proceed to point sticks at the people in the street and shoot off beams of energy.

"Did you really have to ask?"

"I dread asking this, but who is the boy?" Bruce inquired.

"Harry Potter," Zatanna smirked at him as she watched all color drain from Bruce's face. Of course the man would recognize that name, he had a few business dealings inside of the magical world after all.

Bruce frowned and rewound the video to the point where the young man was just arriving. He then turned up the audio, and started the feed again. What proceeded to play through the speakers, had Bruce swearing, "I think I need to go to Kansas."

"You don't think…" Zatanna frowned as she followed that train of thought.

"It's possible. But I won't know until I've had an opportunity to meet the young man in question, and judging from the girl in his company, it is unlikely he is staying wherever it was that what's his name decided to place him after usurping the authority of his own damn government," Bruce commented, "Unless that is... is she yet another member of the Wizarding Community?"

Zatanna frowned, "No I don't think so. The magic she used was, unusual. I've never seen anything like it actually. I could probably replicate the effects, but not as effortlessly as she was able to do it. I'd also need to know what element she was employing, as I don't think it was as simple as an ordinary shadow. The only person who I can think of who might know where her magic originates from is that asshole with the golden helmet that stole my father from me."

"Then I will work under the assumption that he is out from under the aegis of the Hogwarts Headmaster for the time being. Thank you, now please return to the manor proper. I'll have Alfred look in on your studies, but I must see to procuring passage to England by way of Kansas," Bruce stated.

Sighing, the ten year old, though highly intelligent, Zatanna walked back to the lift and took it up to the manor proper.

xXxXxXx

Four hours later, a highly annoyed Bruce Wayne sat in the kitchen of the Kent Farm as he watched Clark Kent view the recording of the video he had taken from the cave. When Clark was finished, the bespectacled man looked up and said, "I'll admit, it is a bit unusual for a young man to be able to do such a thing, but it isn't outside the realm of what is humanly possible."

"Kent, that young man is ten years old. No ten year old human that is entirely normal, despite the capacity for magic, would be able to cave in a grown man's face. Their bodies just aren't built for that sort of thing."

Clark considered that for a few moments before saying, "And you're worried he's another Kryptonian, aren't you?"

"It had occurred to me," Bruce replied.

Clark nodded, "Well, if he were a Kryptonian, then based on the age you gave for him, the apparent velocity, as well as trajectory, of that punch… well he would have needed to be holding back all but one percent of his full strength not to blow Cobblepot's head clean off of his shoulders. That would likely give you a fair estimate on how much I usually hold back in my fights while on Earth. It is rare for me to need my full strength anyways."

Bruce's face slammed down on the hardwood table between the two of them, "In other words, any time anyone ever wins a fight against you, it is because you let them, isn't it?"

Clark smiled sheepishly, "Kind of."

"Dammit, Clark, go to hell…" Bruce said as he gathered his things stormed out of the room and then left the farm. He did have a plane to catch, he wasn't Kryptonian after all.

xXxXxXx

Meanwhile, in England, four people were gathered inside of the office belonging to Minister Cornelius Oswald Fudge. The first was obviously the Minister himself. The second was his Chief Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge. The third was Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. And the last was an absolutely furious Narcissa Malfoy.

"You are telling me that you sealed the wills of Lily and James just so you could send my Godson into the care of that hag?" Narcissa demanded of the Headmaster.

"If I had allowed him into your care at the time, Lady Malfoy, how long would it have been before your sister and her husband tried to kill him? Or your own husband for that matter?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Now see here!" Cornelius started to say, only for Narcissa to raise her hand to stall him.

"Don't bother Minister. Regardless of what bribes he made, my husband was a Death Eater of his own volition," Narcissa replied, "It is a pity he cannot be tried again for crimes he has already been cleared of."

She then leveled a glare at Dumbledore and said, "I don't care what plans you had initially made, you will personally deliver his Hogwarts Letter to him, and then inform him that he does have family that will look after him if he desires it. If not myself, then my other sister. Lest you forget Headmaster, the Black Family is related to the Potter's through James' mother, thus he is part of our family."

Internally she retorted, "If only through adoption." Fortunately she had been taught Occlumency by one of the world's foremost experts in the art, Lady Dorea Potter herself, as had both of her sisters, even if Bellatrix rarely bothered to use it.

Dumbledore heaved a resigned sigh and said, "Of course, I had already been informed as much by both Minerva and Amelia before I even made it to this meeting."

"Good, then unless we have other business, I have a son that is no doubt annoying his betrothed and her sister," with that, Narcissa stood up and left the meeting room, which concluded their business.

xXx Chapter Concluded xXx

Author's Note: This story is written as a response to Black Wolf 101's "Rise of the White Martian" Challenge. I have borrowed a few ideas from the chapter blurb made by John Wolfe for this same challenge, however I am also starting the story much earlier than he did, as I feel it is important to provide character background.

This story will feature a progressive evolution of powers, rather than an instantly all powerful superhero version of Harry. Harry can currently lift 12 tons, and when employing his Tactile Telekinesis, this value increases to 100 Tons. Martian Manhunter by comparison can normally lift 1,600 Tons, and when using his own version of Tactile Telekinesis that value increases to 25,000 Tons.

It should be noted, Rage is not at this time in any remote sense of the word 'tamed.' She is just out of her depth.

Links to the character sheets I am using to portray the characters in this first chapter can be found on my AO3 version of this story, the AO3 version can be found on my AO3 Account which is listed under the same user name as I use here on Fanfictiion*net. I hope you all enjoy the story, I am really enjoying this story, and it is really fun so far.