AN: To be honest I'm not sure how to classify this fic, I think of it as a Harry Potter/Superman crossover though the setting is Metropolis. I got the idea for this fic after watching the 1978 Superman (Christopher Reeve); I have never read the comic or even seen the cartoons, just got the idea after watching the movie (shrug). The Harry Potter stuff will come up here and there and Harry is really OOC so I'm giving you fair warning here… Though seriously, I don't think I can write a HP/Superman crossover without making Harry OOC…and I it will become a HP/Superman Slash pairing
I have been living on the streets of Metropolis for over a year now and I quickly made a name for myself among the homeless that dwell here.
When I first arrived here after blasting Voldemort and myself into kingdom come, I had woken up with a drained magical core and completely naked. I was in an alley, half submerged in freezing dirty water that smelled of urine and trash. Somehow, I ended up in a hospital for two days and then kicked out again wearing donated Dursley-sized clothes and an address to a homeless shelter in my pocket. When I showed up however, I didn't even bother with the place. It was full to overflowing and the people looked worse then I did at that moment.
For the next three months I traveled through what I later learned was the U.S., looking for traces of a magical community and allowing my magical core to recover. My efforts were in vain.
For all its similarities, this world is not my own. In my last years at Hogwarts I had become extremely sensitive to magical energy. Detecting a concentration of magical power is not a problem for me, so I had not worried about being able to find one. In the end I realized that there was nothing to find. There are no magical beings here.
This world, universe, alternate reality, whatever, in which I find myself, is nothing like mine and no matter where I look I know I won't find a place that's remotely like home. So I returned to where I had first showed up, Metropolis, and joined the countless homeless that inhabit the streets, alleys, and freeway bridges of this city.
In the beginning I only lived from day to day, not really focusing on anything; the task made easier by my wandless magical ability…until I realized how hard life was for the others. They had no magical solution for the cold and hunger they faced daily, many of them turning to prostitution or theft to earn a living. And the more I saw the more I realized I couldn't just ignore them.
So I started to help them.
Conjuring up money is not a problem for me; I don't have to suffer and sacrifice to feed myself like they do. I started by walking about the alleys under a notice-me-not charm, healing those I could while trying to make their injuries heal slowly so as not to make it seem too strange. But with time those that I helped came back to find me if they needed help again and soon the word got around about me.
Still, it wasn't all smooth sailing at the beginning. Someone told the local gang leader about my 'ability' and offered me a position as the gang's 'doc.' It was not a pretty sight when I refused.
They beat the crap out of me.
But I didn't use my magic to defend myself. I was still so depressed at the time that I didn't really care if I lived or died, I just figured that if I lived through the beating I wouldn't be doing myself any favors by letting them know the extent of my powers. They beat me for a week until they realized I would not be swayed, so they stabbed me through the heart before throwing my body in the gutter.
To this day, I don't know why I didn't remain dead.
At least the gang doesn't attack me anymore, though I have heard a few of them call me an angel and what-not. Now they bring me food and medical supplies every week. They never say anything and neither do I. Them thinking I'm an angel and feeling guilty about trying to kill me only works in my favor after all.
I find it amazing how even criminals have strong beliefs concerning faith or at least superstition. Maybe it's my "people saving thing" acting up, but I don't hate them for what they did to me. What's the point, right?
I'm happy taking care of the people here and I'm not about to leave. I have been ready to die for years now; Metropolis doesn't hold anything new for me.
I really doubt it will be able to surprise me…
I put my hands on the month-old baby and let my magic flow, checking to make sure she was healthy. The baby was named Maria; I had delivered her myself a month ago though I had encouraged Sara, the mother, to go to a hospital. She had refused. Most of the people here now trust me more than any county hospital or clinic. I don't blame them.
Since I began healing them over a year ago I have only lost two patients; those are very good odds for a place in which fatal injuries are the norm rather than the exception.
"She's doing fine, Sara. Just try to breastfeed her for as long as you can." Maria was the result of a brutal rape when Sara had first arrived at the alley with her husband, Roberto. When Sara came to me complaining of nausea and constant fatigue she was already over two months pregnant; irregular/missed periods are a common occurrence for women here, who only eat when they can and live stress-filled lives. I had offered to terminate the pregnancy but both Sara and her husband had refused.
Though the baby's pale complexion and blue eyes are in obvious contrast to the couple's dark skinned, Latin heritage, the love they have for Maria is easy to see. I'm happy they were able to persevere despite such an unfortunate incident as a family…and if things work out well, they will be able to raise her in a safe home soon. I just have to plan things right.
"My husband wanted me to give you this book. He said he found it in a dumpster and thought you might like it." Sara told me while I prepared a food pack for her to take back with her.
"Thank you, please thank him for me." The book didn't look like it had come from a dumpster but I have gotten used to ignoring the dubious origins of my patients' gifts by now.
Many had noticed the human anatomy and medical books I read, and had decided to help me along a bit. I had learned a lot from Madam Pomfrey about healing wounds and mending bones, but I knew very little about anything else when I first began all this. So I started reading everything I could lay my hands on. It was a disgrace that I could heal a bullet shattered bone without breaking a sweat and then turn around to be stumped by a simple head cold.
Sara was looking at me with a curious expression on her face. "Sara?...Did you need something else?"
"Healer…may I ask you something?" I blinked, not really expecting anything else.
"Why do you cover up your face? A few others - they have seen your face but you asked them not to tell anyone how you look…Healer, you have been very good to us. You take care of us and well," she blushed as if embarrassed about what she was going to say next. "We don't care if you're not human."
Now I was really shocked. I simply keep my hood up due to habit. Getting chased by Voldy most of your life does tend to leave you with a few unusual habits. Still, I should have realized they would come to such a conclusion. For all the care I take to keep my magical healing on the down low, sometimes there is no other way but the obviously obvious way.
I'm in a place where magic is a thing of fantasy. My magic clearly classifies me as an outsider, in their way of thinking: not human.
"Sara," I said while lowering my hood. "I'm as human as you are. Besides, do you really think people would keep coming to see me if they saw me as a 20-year-old playing doctor?" I joked.
In truth, I will be 23 in a few months but who cares. I don't plan on letting people see my face anyways. As hard as earning a few bucks here is, someone will not hesitate to sell my portrait to the pigs. The Metropolis Police Department has been on my tail for months now. I don't know what they want with me and I'm in no hurry to find out.
Sara looked like someone had dipped her in beet-juice, she was so red. I laughed.
"It's okay, I don't care if everyone thinks I'm an alien, but believe me I'm as human as they come." She scoffed in disbelief but still smiled kindly at me.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of someone running towards us.
It was Jimmy. He's a young teen, no older than 14, but he's already very skilled at breaking into homes. He ran away from home and found his way here a few months back. I didn't bother to ask why; if he wants to confide in me he knows where to find me.
"Healer! A man fell from the sky!"
AN: Well here's chapter one, I know I will be lucky if anyone else likes this story, but hey, I have already shared a few of my other stories, might as well share this one for the few that might like it.
Suggestions and comments are welcome, as always. =)