*Quintana Roo*Mexico*July 5*
In a public school of the state of Quintana Roo, the students were all in a celebrating mood because classes were officially over.
There were only a few cases that had nothing to celebrate, since school was an escape from their home life.
Harry Potter, an 11-year-old with messy raven black hair and emerald-green eyes hidden behind glasses, was one of those cases.
The young Potter had run away from his life in an abusive home when he was six, two years after discovering that he was special, different from the relatives that had taken him in after his parents were killed.
Young Harry still suffered from the past, having many flashbacks to his less than ideal childhood.
He now lived in an orphanage, half a world away of his personal nightmare.
Harry ignored all going on around him, not really paying attention to what people said, but still minding if people wanted to talk to him.
The raven-haired kid left the school grounds, taking his time on his walk to what had been his home for five years.
He passed through plazas, parks, a market and crossed several streets, not really caring about what happened around; he had long since stopped caring about the world. He only cared for himself, and only one other person had managed to keep being a constant in his life, though not in the positive way.
The green-eyed boy took close to an hour to arrive to his destination: That Santa Maria de Fatima home for abandoned children, a place that had been built for orphans of the Mexican Revolution and stayed in business after the war had ended.
Recently they had been getting many more and more orphans because more refugees from Cuba arrived in the country, mostly people escaping from the communists that had taken over the country thirty years ago.
Harry had been there when the state had to start expanding the orphanage that could only handle fifty kids plus staff, to one that could hold over a hundred.
He arrived to see that the workers had left for the day, and that most kids had arrived by bus already.
The kid sat under a tree after taking out a book from his pack; a book by Michel Crichton named 'Next', funny book really, made fun of genetics and patents on that field.
He didn't know how long he sat there under the tree, he only stopped reading when a shadow fell over him, "We've been over this Jaime, you interrupt my reading time, and I may get violent." Said Harry
The boy who had stepped over Harry snorted, he was a tall and bulky kid, the kind of kid that didn't bother watching what he ate and only did enough exercise to be able to walk. His eyes were hazel and his hair a curly brown, "As if you could harm me, pendejo"
"You more than anyone should know what I can do, baboso" Harry shot back.
Indeed. Harry Potter was normally a very calm boy, if, however, you got him angry, he would use his abilities to boost his own strength, allowing him to damage people twice his size with only enough effort to leave him breathing hard.
Jaime Avila was one person that constantly tried to get Harry mad, if only for the satisfaction of being one of the few people who managed to get a reaction of the normally stoic boy, "Please, if you actually wounded me ONCE I would have sent you to the hospital"
Harry snorted, "Yeah, whatever you say, pambazo" the boy smirked as he walked towards his room , enjoying the angry huff Jaime did.
Sometimes being him was a curse, but he needed fun out of somewhere other than books.
*Three weeks later*June 27
Harry Potter could say he HATED the Mexican summer. It wasn't the heat; no that only got to 35 degrees C, the problem was the humidity in the air made the already difficult weather impossible thanks to the mugginess that stayed all year round.
The only good thing was that mangos were fruit of the season.
It was because of those causes that Harry hated passing the days outside on the summer, maybe if he was further north, where the heat was dry.
There was an advantage to the summer though, the local ice-skate ring was open, and he loved how cold the place was.
He had discovered the joy of ice-skating when he was nine, having saved all the money the caretakers gave him once a month and what he had found around the building and then went to explore town.
After a couple of hours of wandering the city he had come across a dome-like building with a few cars parked outside. He entered the dome to find the ice ring.
An old man had asked what a kid was doing alone on the ring, and after Harry explained that he was an orphan, Rodrigo, as the man was called, offered lessons for free as long as Harry paid for the skates.
The rest was history.
Harry was one of the few people who went to the ring constantly, since most people preferred to just drive the thirty kilometers to go to the beach.
Today the ring was mostly empty, with only a couple of girls practicing artistic skating.
One thing he didn't understand about them skater girls was that when he entered and started doing his own practice and acrobatics they wouldn't stop staring at him with some weird thing on their eyes.
He stayed there for hours, letting his legs do the thinking and his mind to wander.
He thought about his powers that let him teleport, summon and push things, the ones that let him reinforce his body: he had discovered them when he was five, almost seven years ago.
He knew that they were unique, since no one he had met could do the same things. As far as he knew, only his parent, who he vaguely recalled from a REALLY fuzzy memory from before their death, could do things like that, so maybe it was something that ran on his father's side of the family?
But then there was the feeling he got whenever he thought that, he felt as if though there was much more he could do, so much he could learn, so much he could create.
He felt that somewhere, out in the world, there were more people like him, and he just had to find them.
Harry came to a stop as he looked at the clock: 5Pm, he had to leave, to get back home before curfew.
*Next day*Santa Maria de Fatima orphanage*
Harry woke up to the feeling of claws digging into his stomach, as if there was a cat or a bird on top of him, but that was impossible, the matron didn't like animals.
Now, since he wasn't much of a morning person, Harry just swatted at whatever was on him before trying to find the comfortable warmth he had created on his bed during the night, but whatever it was that had awakened him, wasn't going to give up yet.
The mop of raven black hair shot upward when a couple of hard things started to hammer him on the head.
Harry scowled as he looked around his small room, trying to find the source, only to stop when his eyes fell on a pair of birds standing on his bedside table.
"¿Qué chingados? Why are there two birds in my room?" he asked, not expecting an answer.
The two birds, an owl and a quetzal, looked at each other, as if communicating, then turned back to him and screeched, holding out their legs, showing the letters tied to them.
'Who the fuck uses messenger pigeons?' he thought, undoing the knots, "I suppose you're waiting for a response" he said, the birds nodded in synchrony, "right" he felt really foolish, talking to birds, even if they showed intelligence.
He grabbed the letters, his eyes on the birds as they flew to the, somehow open, window, and seemingly held a conversation between them.
His green eyes roamed over the letters, first to the one the owl had and then the one of the quetzal; the former was written in English for some reason, while the latter had terms that made obvious that it was written by a native of the old civilizations.
He opened the English letter first
Harry J. Potter
Santa Maria de Fatima Orphanage
That was creepy, had they been following him?
Ignoring the thought, Harry flipped open the letter
Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.
Headmaster Albus Dumbledoor (Order of Merlin, first class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards
Dear Mr. Potter
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. You will find all necessary book and equipment in the enclosed list.
Term starts on September first. We await your owl by no later than July 31st
Deputy Headmistress. Minerva McGonagall
That explained the origin of his powers, he was a wizard. Not so hard to swallow considering that he had been doing strange things since childhood.
He opened the letter in Spanish.
Hun Ab Ku School of magical disciplines
Principal Ricardo Rivera de la Vega (Supreme Priest of the Mayan Wizards Council, Deputy of the Mayan teachings in SEP)
You are registered in SEP as a wizard, as such you are required to start your education in one of the three Mexican schools of Magical disciplines. These three schools are all from cultures from the post-classical era, and each are on territories only magical people can be in.
The Tarahumara Rayenari School, The Aztec Hitzilopchtli School and our very own, The Mayan Hun Ab Ku School of magical Disciplines, these are the schools of magical instruction in Mexico.
We expect you reply to this letter by August twelfth at the latest, if you aren't registering on this school then you most write which school you are going to.
The school year starts two weeks after the mundane.
As you are an Orphan, take this letter to your caretaker, he/she will take you and whoever else from your home is a wizard/witch to the magical market of the region.
The books required are on the back of the page.
Have a good day.
Harry sighed as he finished the letter, if there was one thing the Mexicans were good at, specially the higher-ups, was at talking a lot to say just few things, as evidenced by the letter, the president, the climatic forecast, the principal on his past school and that old man who rambled on whenever he stepped on the store crossing the street of the orphanage.
The raven-haired kid looked at the birds and said "You want my reply right now" he had to say it twice, once in Spanish and the second in English, since the owl didn't appear to understand the first time.
The birds bobbed their heads in affirmative.
Harry grabbed a notebook that he hadn't filled out during the school year, ripped two sheets, and started writing.
I'm sorry to say that I will be attending another school, since unfortunately yours is too far away from where I'm living at.
That is all
Harry nodded at his short answer, folding it and tying it to the owl's leg, and watched as the bird left on rout to the sea.
He grabbed the second piece of paper and started writing his reply to Principal Rivera.
I will be attending your school in September.
It certainly will clear up some of my ideas about what I can if I have someone who can teach and discus with me.
I would like to request instructions on how to reach your school when the time comes, or directions on what to do to reach it.
Harry J. Potter.
Harry watched as the quetzal flew away, the letter to the headmaster of the magical school tied to its leg.
He grabbed the letter and left his room, intent on speaking to the matron about what had happened.
First chapter of my second story, and my first Harry Potter fanfic.
Since I am mexican, it is the culture I know best, which is why this is taking place in the Yucatan Peninsula.
Now, I will tell this now, even if the culture is different, there are still problems with the people, and paraphrasing 'The Harmony Bond': Not one culture is perfect and every single one has their flaws.
Also, keep in mind that most of my work in this story will be completely original up until Harry hits fifteen, adventures, monsters, creatures, magics, most of them will be made up according to mexican folklore and mayan myth.
With no further ado.