Discovery of the Legend
Principal Ricardo Rivera was a man in his late forties and had dedicated himself to climb the social lather since he was twenty: As soon as he finished college with a degree in ancient history, he had gone into the magical government, climbing from a simple assistant in the department of education, to the Grand Priest and Deputy of the Mayan wizarding culture in Mexico.
At age thirty-five, the previous principal of the Hun Ab Kun School had offered him the position as the man retired at the old age, two years later the school had a new headmaster.
He was regarded by past students as the best headmaster they could have, even if the ones currently under him though he was but an incarnation of Xiquiripat wanting them to shed their blood before him.
A strict man with an ethic most considered insane.
He was a fit man with dark eyes and hair a brown color, standing at an impressing 1.85m with tanned skinned and wearing a jaguar's pelt over his shoulders and a ceremonial skirt over his loincloth, from which his ceremonial staff was hanging in a reduced form.
The man looked down from his chair in the mess hall of the school, a giant room where tables were scattered around; it was refreshing, seeing three different species of humanoids interact friendlily with each other, with the exception of the racist bastards he enjoyed to make fun off.
One table caught his attention, as it held a boy with skin too pale to be American, 'What is a European doing here? I thought most people of that descent went to Salem if they stayed in this continent' the headmaster looked at the boy sitting beside the European, 'He befriended a chupacabra already, though it could partly be because of the wolf sitting by the boy's side'
Apparently the European boy felt his stare because he looked at Principal Ricardo, 'green eyes and a 'Sun' Anglo- Saxon rune' he covered his smile behind his hands, 'I got myself a fine warrior with a strong will, good'
Ricardo stood up, only to try to hold in curses as his little finger banged on the table, 'HIJO DE PUTA' "Welcome to a new year here at our school, for the next nine months it will be your home, where you will from bonds, learn magic, earn respect and get experience.
"The first thing I must address is that you must be very careful when going to the forest, as the colony of kukulkans there have expressed their desire to stay isolated during their mating year.
"Second, the balames complained during the summer that you left your room Sucia como el carajo, so please clean up as soon as you arrive from your classes.
"Third, and please try to keep this one in mind throughout the year, ritual magic can only be practiced during the classes, and only if you are truly sure you can do the ritual properly.
"Lastly, our colleges from Europe have sent us specimens for the Care of Creatures Class; some of them are dangerous so please try to listen to Professor Atziri when working with them.
"You have thirty minutes more for dinner, after that please go to your rooms" he smiled at them as they groaned at the curfew.
Ricardo motioned to his most trusted faculty member to lean closer, "Alan, the pale boy with the wolf sitting next to the chupacabra, I want you bring him to my office after dinner"
Alan Aviña Guerra, the teacher of battle magic, glanced at the boy in question, "Any reason?" he didn't look like much, granted, he himself was the definition of plain with brown eyes and dark hair with a face that would look out-of-place only on high social circles, so he couldn't say much.
"The boy is north-European, and my friend in the ICW told me that the Chief Warlock was looking for a stray kid" answered the principal.
"A runway then, still doesn't explain, we got many Cuban students"
"Yes, but the last time this school had someone from the old Continent we had a problem with the creatures of the forest" it had been one of the darkest years for the school since the New Spain age, as they had had to deal with hundreds of pissed creatures.
"Ah yes" Alan nodded, "the 'New Spanish Empire' incident, so you think we may have another 'Novo Cortez'?"
"No, he came from an orphanage, and I think he may be the Warlock's kid"
Alan frowned at him, "You want to return a runaway kid, to a place he didn't like"
Ricardo shook his head and chuckled, "If I did that, I wouldn't be better that the ones that made him escape"
"But if he is a child criminal?"
"His caretaker says he is the perfect example of a bookworm, his room has nothing but books there and his only problems are constant insults against another of the students here, a James something-or-another."
Alan sighed, "Ok, I'll take him to your office"
*Main pyramid*top floor*night*
"Any reason I'm being taken there?" asked Harry he tried to take Itzmin from his position on top of his head.
"The headmaster wants to talk to you" answered the Battle magic professor.
"Is it about the pup? I swear it came to me"
Alan sighed and pushed him into the room where the principal was waiting for him, a large room with rock walls lined with shelves filled to the brim with books, and then some more on top of them.
"Ah, the mysterious European orphan in Mexico," Harry looked at the principal, "Yes, please sit, sit, I've got some questions for you"
Harry complied but asked, "Do you do this with many students?"
The headmaster shook his head, "No, but you are a special, did you know that the British are looking for you?" Harry frowned and shook his head.
"I have no idea why they would be looking for me"
"And THAT is why you're here" principal Ricardo took out a book, "the rune you have on your forehead marks you as the most famous person there, and all because of your mother"
"Yes, she did something to you the night she died, something that left you with that scar, something that made you famous."
"Why? Why am I famous?"
The principal grinned, "There is one curse, only block-able by the Japanese hand-seal magic, a curse that RIPS the soul to shreds as it hits, and because of whatever your mother did, you survived"
"What?" Harry whispered.
The headmaster opened the book almost at the end, "Since the sixties, there was a man in England, a man feared by the British, that curse was his trademark," he flipped a page and pointed at Harry, "Nobody but the ICW's Chief Warlock knows why, but he wanted YOU dead, so he went after your family the Halloween of the '81, killed your father, killed your mother, and tried to kill you." The principal leaned back and locked eyes with Harry.
The boy in question was about to go into shock, "H-How?" he muttered.
The headmaster gave a chuckle, "Nobody know, even the best can only guess, and my own is that your mother used some kind of druidic ritual" the grin intensified, "it is one of the Arcane Magicks, after all"
Harry sat there, trying to process everything: his parents were murdered because they were protecting him, they had lied to him, someone was trying to get him back there.
"Will" Harry cleared his throat, "Will you send me back?"
"No" there was finality in the headmaster's negative, "you ran for a reason, and as you aren't a criminal, you have no reason to go back, and I want only one thing from you"
Harry felt his heart harden at those words, "What?"
"Grow. Strong" the headmaster's grin changed to a sadistic one, "there will come a day, when the British grow desperate enough, that they will kidnap you in an attempt to get you back, and WHEN, not IF, WHEN that day comes, show them that the only reason the Europeans conquered this continent was because of technology and luck" Harry nodded, "Good, then go to your room and sleep, tomorrow will be a long day"
The principal slid the book towards Harry, who grabbed it absently and left the room shortly after reading the tittle.
Ricardo Rivera chuckled to himself as Harry Potter, the-Boy-Who-Lived as the stupid British called him, left his office.
The boy would always work for the good of the many, the rune he had on his forehead would let nothing else but that happen.
How he went towards that; that was entirely up to the boy.
His friend in the ICW better have memories ready.
*Harry's dorm room*ten minutes later*
Harry stared blankly at the ceiling of his dorm, not one of the attempts made by his roommates getting through him.
How could they? He had a hurricane in his mind and it wasn't calming down, not soon anyway.
He hadn't even opened the book the headmaster Rivera had given him.
His parents had been murdered, his mother had marked him with something that left him with the scar, he had done the impossible and survived THE killing curse.
It had taken his mother's life for him to survive.
For the first time of his live, Harry Potter knew genuine sadness and sorrow.
He could have had a happy, loving life if it weren't for whoever killed his parents.
He would have never been sent to THEM had they not died.
It was that night, the night of September seven of the year 1991, that Harry Potter, vanquisher of the Dark Lord Voldemot, promised to himself that he would bring justice to his parent's murderer.
I started it so it could be a 'Why did you run? Do you want to go back?' conversation between Ricardo and Harry, but inspiration hit and it turned into what it is now.
I also wanted the principal to be a serious, hard-working individual, ending with a prestige-seeking, crowd-concerned, bit sadistic individual and instead gave Alan, the battle-magic teacher, the principal's original personality.
Don't you just love when the muse decides to help you.
The next two weeks will have faster updates, for the sledgehammer hasn't gone away and is still hitting me with ideas for the next few chapters.
One last thing before I go, and I know it was days ago: Happy St. Patrick's day
'Sucia como el carajo'=as dirty as a maggots' nest.
'Hijo de puta'=son of a bitch
Kukulkan is the Mayan feathered snake, the same as the Aztec Qetzalcaotl