Chapter Text
Harry had no idea what was going on. He could swear he had fallen asleep in his room at Privet Drive. But here he was, sitting on the pavement, wearing dirty glasses, his Muggle clothes, and old flip-flops. His wand was in his pocket, and his scar didn’t hurt. All he could think was that Voldemort had somehow abducted him.
Oh, Merlin. Were Hermione and Ron all right? Had something happened to the Dursleys?
Why was there a pain in his chest, like his heart was breaking? Something was wrong with him—he was sure of it. There was something he had to remember... but now his head was hurting. Not like the pain from his scar, but as if his brain was trying to jump out of his skull.
Maybe that was for the best. Whatever it was he couldn’t remember, it was probably bad anyway. Not like he could do much about it. He looked around, wand in hand, just in case. In front of him was a big blue wall; across the road were some houses and shops, and lots of trees blocking his view. He took a deep breath and realized the air was different. He wasn’t in England. He couldn’t smell the dirty industrial residue in the air—the humidity felt different, clearer... fresher, definitely. The sky was blue and didn’t look like it was going to rain.
Then he saw two kids walking toward him, eyeing him suspiciously. One had red and white hair, the other had long black hair tied in a ponytail. They didn’t look European, not with those distinctly East Asian features.
Where the fuck was he? What the hell was going on?
He got up as quickly as he could, his vision going dark around the edges for a moment—but he ignored it. He tried to avoid the approaching pair, but he couldn’t. They were focused on him. Fuck. He didn’t even know how to Apparate yet. He had no idea where he was or why. Merlin, what a day.
The boy with the dual-colored hair stopped in front of him and said something. That confirmed to Harry that he was definitely far from home. China? Japan? Somewhere in Asia, for sure. Hermione would’ve probably figured it out immediately.
The girl stood beside the boy, looking concerned. She spoke calmly, but Harry just stared at them.
“What the hell...” he muttered.
The boy looked stoic—with two different colored eyes... Oh, Merlin, that was definitely different. Aunt Petunia had once said that kids with colored hair were punks and lowlifes... but she also thought he was a punk, so maybe this kid wasn’t so bad?
“Do you not speak Japanese?” the boy asked in English.
“Oh! I... no, I don’t,” Harry replied, looking around nervously, still gripping his wand.
“Are you okay?” the girl asked. Harry was relieved they spoke English. The only Japanese word he knew was nani , from a comic book he read at school.
“I’m fine!” he said quickly. They didn’t need to know he wasn’t. “I’m just... lost. Can you tell me where I am?”
She looked at the boy before responding.
“You’re at U.A. High School, in Musutafu, Nippon,” she said, like it was obvious.
“Japan... oh Merlin... fuck,” he muttered, glancing around.
“Are you sure you’re okay? We’re heroes in training, we can help you,” she said.
Heroes? What the fuck... like in the comics?
“I... heroes?” Harry blinked at them. “I’m sorry, I...” He didn’t know what to say. His head was throbbing, and he felt dizzy.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Harry.”
“I’m Yaoyorozu, and this is Todoroki. Can you tell us your age?”
“I’m...” How old was he again? He wasn’t completely sure, but the last time... “I think I’m sixteen?”
She looked even more concerned, and the boy, Todoroki, pulled out his phone.
“Do you want to come with us? We can take you inside so you can rest, and then we’ll contact the police to see what happened to you.”
The police? Oh, right… muggles ...
“Thank you. I just need some time to think and remember...”
“It’s okay. You can sit inside.”
“Oh, thank you.” All he needed was to find something connected to the Wizarding World, contact the Ministry, and get back home. It would be fine.
Yaoyorozu walked on one side of him, Todoroki on the other. It felt oddly like being escorted by Aurors. He didn’t trust them, not yet, but at least they seemed to be trying to help. They stopped at the gates, and Harry saw one of the largest buildings he had ever seen, with an enormous ‘H’ made of glass.
And then he saw the people.
His hand tightened painfully around his wand.
What the fuck was going on?
The last time he saw the news about Japan, there definitely weren’t mutants and... cat people walking around. He would have known, right?
Harry was so distracted by all the strange people that he didn’t notice two men approaching—one blond and skinny, the other with tired eyes and black hair.
The blonde said something, but Harry didn’t understand. Todoroki responded, and then all of them looked at Harry.
“What?” he asked reflexively.
“What’s your name, kid?” the tired man asked in English.
“Harry Potter, sir.” When the name didn’t get any reaction, Harry felt both relieved and a bit sad. If someone had recognised him, maybe he could’ve gotten home faster.
“Do you know where you are?”
“At some school for heroes?”
“Where are you from?”
“Surrey. England.” All three stared at him, so he took a deep breath. “I just want to go home. I have no idea how I ended up here. So if you can help me...?”
Harry didn’t really know how to ask for help. He didn’t trust them to help, anyway. But he’d play along and figure it out. This guy was a hero, right?
So he
should
help... right?
The man grunted something in Japanese. The girl and the boy said something like “Good luck” and walked away, disappearing down the stairs. Harry looked nervously at the two men, trying to stay calm. Adults were always hard to be around.
“We’re going to the principal’s office. Then you’ll talk, and we’ll see if we can help you. But if we find out this is some kind of prank, you’ll be punished. Is that clear?”
Harry suppressed a shudder but couldn’t stop himself from touching the scar on his hand. It was from last term—he could still feel the bloody quill scratching into his skin. He nodded at the man, but kept staring.
“Yes, sir,” he replied.
The blond man gave him a sheepish look but said nothing. They walked into a large hall, and the black-haired man led them down corridors full of classrooms and lots of strange people.
Years at Hogwarts had given Harry a good sense of direction, and he quickly realised the man was trying to confuse him, taking different turns on purpose. But it wouldn’t make any difference, Harry had no idea where he was anyway.
One thing Harry noticed was the technology. The place looked futuristic: big white walls, screens, robots, even the lighting looked advanced. But then again, he was comparing it to Hogwarts, a massive old castle with no electricity and only candles. He could compare it to his Muggle school, but even that didn’t look this expensive.
There was a girl with blue skin sitting on a bench. Harry tried very hard not to stare. He knew how that felt, and he hated it, but it was just so weird. And everyone else acted like it was the most normal thing in the world. Harry shook his head, trying to push away the fear of being in a completely different place, surrounded by humans with exotic-colored skin and eyes. And apparently, that was normal here.
Maybe he was in a parallel dimension.
They stopped in front of a white door, and the blond man stepped into the office.
In the principal’s chair sat a dog. Or a weird cat. Or something in clothes. Maybe it was the principal’s pet?
“Oh, hello there, Mr. Potter.”
Harry took a deep breath. He could handle this. It was probably just a dream. The principal was not a talking dog. This was just a hallucination.
“Please, take a seat,” the... principal said. “I’m Principal Nedzu, and I hear we’ve got a bit of a situation.”
Yep. The principal was the… thing. Oh, Merlin and Circe’s tits.
“Um... Yes, sir.”
“So, let’s start from the beginning. Tell us everything you can remember.”
Harry didn’t like that.
“Um… with all due respect, sir, I don’t think I can tell you much. I don’t know who any of you are.”
“Of course, Mr. Potter, of course.” He pointed one paw at the blond man. “That is Yagi Toshinori our retired Hero, Symbol of Peace, All Might . And that grumpy one beside him is Aizawa Shota, our Eraserhead . Both of them are teachers here.”
Harry looked at them. Heroes . What a weird concept. Teachers and heroes like if Snape was both Potions master and an Auror. Weird. But okay, maybe they could help. Not like any teacher besides Lupin had ever actually tried to help him. He just had to stay calm and not say anything too specific.
“Um, okay… well, I just woke up outside. Just now. I’m pretty sure I was at the Dursleys’ in Surrey last night. I’ve never been to Japan, never planned to come, not that it’s a bad place or anything, I just never thought about it. So, I don’t think I brought myself here.”
“Ah. That is very strange indeed. It couldn’t be a reaction to your Quirk? Or some kind of villain attack?” the principal asked.
“My what?”
The office had been quiet before, but now Harry felt like he could hear the blood rushing in his ears.
“Your Quirk, Mr. Potter. Or are you Quirkless?” Aizawa asked, raising an eyebrow.
Shit. What was a Quirk ?
“Sorry, but I don’t know what that means.”
And then everything fell apart.
Aizawa’s eyes turned red. And all Harry could see was Voldemort.
Red eyes.
Green light.
Red light.
Screaming.
His mother crying.
Hermione shouting.
Mr. Weasley on the ground.
Cedric, dead.
Bellatrix laughing.
Sirius, dying.
Sirius. His heart clenched.
Deathdeathdeathdeathdeath
Someone was shouting, and it took Harry too long to realise it was him .
Aizawa was on the ground. His hair had fallen, his eyes black again. Harry noticed his wand was in his hand. The others were frozen—his magic had paralysed them.
Oh, Merlin. Now they definitely wouldn’t help.
Well done, Harry.
He stepped back, trying to recompose himself and pull the magic back under control.
“I’m sorry,” he said, avoiding their eyes. “I didn’t expect your eyes to turn red, Mr. Aizawa. I’m really sorry. I don’t know what Quirks are, or why there are people with blue skin, or talking animals. I just want to go home,” he said, almost at the door. “Even if it’s just to die,” he muttered, not expecting anyone to hear.
He felt his magic return to him and heard the two teachers say something in Japanese. Now all he had to do was wait for the Ministry’s notice for underage magic. It was going to be fine.
“Mr. Potter... what was that?” the principal asked.
Who was he kidding? He was in an unknown place, surrounded by unknown people, his magic—the only thing he’d ever been able to rely on—was acting up... and there were strangers here with powers who called themselves heroes.
His godfather was dead.
His relatives didn’t want him.
And he was alone. Again.
Harry wanted to cry.
No Ministry letter had come.
Strange. It was almost like… they didn’t exist.
His head was a mess, too many thoughts all at once. His scrawny arms ached (Merlin knew why), his heart pulsed like it was being stabbed, his wand vibrated in an unfamiliar rhythm, and the fear was overwhelming.
It finally sank in: Everything was wrong.
His knees gave out, and he collapsed.
The most caring and comforting darkness wrapped around him, and then, nothing.