Harry Potter: Wizard of Kamar-Taj
So, this idea came to me a while back, back when I first saw the MCU's Doctor Strange movie, and I've been refining it with the help of fellow author RSBCS. It follows a similar concept to my other fic, Harry Potter the Visored, but hopefully without the flaws in plot and writing style that my older fic had.
A note before I begin, this fic starts several years before the events of Doctor Strange, so the events of the movie, and even the events of Avengers 1, won't happen until after the events of Deathly Hallows. Also, I unfortunately am not fully caught up with the expanded background lore of the MCU, so I probably won't reference much more than what is shown in the movies, and some of the early seasons of Agents of SHIELD.
Disclaimer: Marvel owns the MCU and Rowling owns Harry Potter.
It was a cold gloomy November night in England, though you wouldn't know it at first glance. Throughout the cities and boroughs, the Wizarding World was celebrating the defeat of a great evil, and though their wild parties were threatening to reveal the secrecy of their culture to the Muggle community, they cared little and continued in their joyous revelry. Why risk exposure like this you ask? The answer was simple.
The Wizarding World had just seen the end of a great war against a formidable threat. A Dark Lord calling himself Voldemort had led an army of Dark Wizards and Magical Creatures against the Magical Community, seeking to usurp control over the Wizarding World and put an end to what he saw as the Muggle taint on the world and force a reign of terror down on his enemies. All this eventually came to a head the previous night, October 31, when Lord Voldemort traveled to Godric's Hollow and met his end as he attempted to take the life of an infant child named Harry Potter.
Throughout Great Britain, the streets were alight with celebratory parties as the Wizarding community of Magical Britain raised a glass to the Boy Who Lived and the downfall of Lord Voldemort, but not a small suburban street in Little Whinging, Surrey. In fact, all of the streetlamps along the street had strangely gone dark, casting a shadow over three figures that had gathered in front of one of the houses.
Their names were Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and Rubeus Hagrid, and they had gathered here on that night to deliver an important piece of precious cargo to safety.
"Are you sure about this Albus?" Minerva asked as she glanced at the oldest of their trio, "these Muggles are the worst sort. It's hardly the place to leave a child."
"I'm certain that this is the safest place for young Harry to stay," said Dumbledore as he placed a bundle he was carrying onto the porch of Number 4 Privet Drive before tucking a note into the blankets as well, "The Dursley's are his closest remaining family, so I am sure he will be well taken care of."
"And what about the scar?" asked Minerva, "Should that not be removed?"
Dumbledore glanced down at the sleeping child wrapped in the bundle of blankets that he had placed on the Dursley's doorstep, his eyes ghosting over a lightning-shaped cut on the infant's forehead that had already begun to heal, "Even if I could, I wouldn't. You never know though, sometimes scars can be surprisingly useful. In any case, we should be on our way. We mustn't linger here too long, and I dare say that we have friends that wish us to join in their celebrating the end of the war."
Minerva looked like she wanted to protest, but ultimately decided to trust Dumbledore and the three Wizards made their way out of Privet Drive, with Dumbledore using a magical tool to restore light to the streetlamps lining the road before vanishing with a loud crack.
The sound caught the attention of the residents of Number 4, and the porch light turned on as a very thin woman named Petunia Dursley opened the door, looking around for the source of the noise, before looking down and yelping as she saw the child left on her doorstep. Reaching down, she picked up the note and read through its contents, before dropping the parchment in surprise as her breath caught in her throat. Rushing back inside, Petunia slammed the door closed, leaving the child outside as she hurried to speak with her husband.
The sound of the door woke young Harry, and he abruptly began to cry due to a lack of familiar surroundings and company. Despite his tears however, no response came, as the Dursleys even turned off their lights and went back to sleep, hoping things would be back to normal when they woke up.
As Harry continued to wail, his youth and mental state began to draw upon powers that lay deep within him, causing the lights in his vicinity to flicker as the frost around him began to melt slightly, before finally, everything came to a crescendo as Harry vanished from Privet Drive with a loud crack.
In another part of the country, a woman wearing yellow robes of eastern design casually walked through the streets as she noted the revelry of the various Witches and Wizards in celebration of the fall of Voldemort. Her name had been lost to time, with all who know her referring to her as the Ancient One, but there was one other title that she held, and that was Sorcerer Supreme, the leader of the Masters of the Mystic Arts. She had seen the rise and fall of the Dark Lord Voldemort, and the rise and fall of Grindelwald before him. To her, the goings on in the Wizarding World were not something her order directly became involved with unless the domain she and the Masters protected came under threat. To that end, the Masters had lent aid during the war against the Dark Wizard Grindelwald while keeping out of the public eye, with only a select few figures in the Wizarding World knowing of their order's existence. As such, the Ancient One had remained on the sidelines during Voldemort's reign, only involving herself to protect the London Sanctum from the effects of the war.
The Ancient One had heard the news of Voldemort's fall and thus, had allowed herself a casual stroll through the streets of London, now that the threat of Voldemort's Death Eaters had all bit diminished, and had observed several of the Wizarding celebrations, before making her way back towards the London Sanctum in Greenwich. As she approached the building though, she felt a sudden influx of magical power nearby and she instinctively tensed, ready to act in defense of herself or the Sanctum, but as she neared the epicenter of the surge, all of that faded to confusion as she noticed a bundle of blankets sitting on the steps leading to the entrance.
"What's this?" she murmured to herself as she approached the bundle, only for her eyes to widen as she realized it was a rather distraught infant wrapped in the blankets.
Reaching down, the Ancient One picked up the bundle and whispered soothingly to the child, causing him to calm down and doze off. Making a decision, the Sorcerer Supreme carried the child in and out of the cold, closing the doors behind her with a quick spell. The Ancient One carried the child through the halls until she reached the room that connected the Sanctum to their headquarters at Kamar-Taj. Walking through the gateway into the room containing the Orb of Agamotto, the Sorcerer Supreme was met by her disciples, Masters Wong and Karl Mordo.
"Ancient One," said Mordo respectfully as he glanced at the bundle in her arms, "what is this?"
"A wayward soul that has come into our care," said the Sorcerer Supreme, "he shall be staying with us for the foreseeable future."
"Does he have any family?" asked Wong, "How did you find him?"
"I don't know," admitted the Ancient One, "I found him on the steps of the London Sanctum. However, I can sense a great amount of potential within him. He has a large amount of magical power for a child his age. I would like to have him raised here, to ensure he is cared for, and so we can teach him to control and harness the power."
"In addition," she said as she looked at the child with a soft expression, "it would not be right to leave an innocent like this out in the cold. He will stay here with us and be cared for by the Masters. We shall give him a home."
"What is the child's name?" asked Mordo as he gazed at the sleeping babe.
"Adin," said the Ancient One as she gazed down at the child with a smile, "his name shall be Adin."