Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Strength

1

The Squib's Nephew

It was a day quite like any other at Number 4 Privet Drive, except that one occupant of the home was grieving. The grief stricken young man was different from his relatives. He was 16 yet he never went near a car, didn't have any friends over to the house, and he had went on only one date in his life and it had been a disaster. All these things stemmed from the fact the grieving boy was a wizard and had spent most of the last five years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Not only that, but he was famous for stopping the most evil wizard ever when he was an infant, he was also famous for seeing this wizard return from what many people said was death. Harry Potter didn't think much of those things at this point though. He only thought of his now deceased godfather Sirius Black.

"BOY!!!" his Uncle Vernon called.

Harry sat up and got out of bed. Harry only did this for chores, meals, and bath rooming anymore. He figured that Vernon Dursley had thought of another annoying chore for him to do. Harry walked down the stairs until he was face to face with his uncle.

"Boy, Mrs. Figg's nephew is here. He's the same age as Dudley and you. But he's met Dudley and they didn't... Er.. Get on well. Mrs. Figg thought maybe you and he will do better. I highly doubt this, but maybe you could use something special to show him to not pick on my son. Eh."

Harry stood with his mouth open. Uncle Vernon wanted him to use magic. He knew that Dudley had been fairly well beaten up recently, but in his grief hadn't asked about it. It was now fairly obvious that Mrs. Figg's nephew must of done it. Harry walked to the door and saw that a huge man stood in the doorway.

The man had to of been at least six and a half feet tall. But he was more than just tall, he was broad and well built. His blue eyes were just as piercing as Harry's emerald green ones. The man that Harry had now guessed was Figg's nephew was dressed in a plain black t-shirt with a pair of baggy black jeans. Harry noticed a flashing necklace around his neck of an eagle with a crystal ball in it's talons.

"You must be Harry," said Figg's nephew in a deep voice. "My name's Jon Coop. I'm Arabella Figg's nephew."

"Er... Yeah my name's... You already said my name."

"So I did." Jon leaned close and whispered, "Dude let's get out of here. Your aunt looks like she's gonna beat my head in."

Harry nodded and the two young men went out the door and walked away from Number 4. Harry looked over at the large guy who stood next to him. Jon walked toward the park and Harry followed him. Jon leaned up against a tree and slid down it.

"You're a Yank aren't you?" Harry asked.

Jon flinched and looked at Harry coldly. He stood back up and walked toward Harry. He stopped three feet away. He quickly returned to glaring at Harry.

"I'm really getting tired of that bullshit you know. Being called a Yank or colonial or any of that BS you fuckin' Brits call us. I'm an American from Iowa. For the next two years I'm going to be a student at Hogwarts. Then I'm going back to the Salem Institute for Magic for my Senior year of my education. Apparently I'll be sorted with your first years." Jon said all this slowly and in the iciest tone Harry had ever heard this side of Severus Snape. "Also, I'm not Figg's nephew. Not related to her in the least bit."

Harry hadn't thought that the slightly scornful terms used to describe Americans might set this guy off so badly. They obviously had though and Harry didn't like the way this guys looked when he was angry. Jon seemed to radiate power almost like Dumbledore just not as powerfully.

"Why are you here then?" asked Harry in a quiet voice

"A couple reasons. I wanted to study under Dumbledore and my parents wanted me to look after you."

"LOOK AFTER ME! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE! I DON..."

Jon had grabbed Harry by the throat and slammed the much smaller boy into the tree.

"I'm your damn cousin! Now you yell at me like that again and I'll give you the same treatment Dudley got for making cracks about you. My mother is your father's step-sister. She moved to the states and couldn't get my dad to move here when you were orphaned as a baby. With your godfather gone they wanted someone else that was trained in physical combat near you as much as possible. That someone will be me."

"You're no older than me!"

"True, but in the states we can learn Sorcerer's magic starting at 14. My training's almost complete. I just need to study under a master for two years. Dumbledore's gonna be that master. Also I've been informed that to make sure you're protected I'm to begin your training in sorcerer's magic as soon as we get to school. Understand."

"No, what's sorcerer's magic?"

"Just an older stronger form of magic. Much more difficult to control. Also fewer people seem to be able to use this from of magic. With enough practice you'll be able to do many things without a wand or staff."

"A staff? Why would I need a staff?"

"Instead of wand you need a staff that's at usually a meter long and a half inch thick. It has a magical core as. The core's at lot stronger than in a wand. My staff is oak with powdered dragon teeth spread throughout the wood to use as the magical core. We'll be leaving for the our hideout sometime this week. So we'll have to go to Diagon Alley and see Ollivander about your staff today. I'll use a bit of my skill to teleport us. Pactio staff."

And without a wand he brought his staff to him from thin air. And then without blinking he planted it into the ground and suddenly they were no longer in the street, but in Harry's bedroom.

"Harry, get your wand and the key to your Gringotts vault."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"The fact that even though I teleported us here I haven't taken you to Voldemort."

Harry looked at the sharp blue eyes of Jon Coop and began to look for his wand and the key for his vault at Gringotts.

A few minutes later Jon had teleported them to Diagon Alley. They stood blinking in the sun for a few seconds and then Jon began to walk briskly.

"Excellent, Mr. Ollivander will be expecting us, Harry. Do you still have your key to your Gringotts vault?'

"Yes."

"Good. I've got the key to the Black family vault. We'll take out some money and put the rest of your money into the Black vault and have it renamed the Potter vault," Jon said, while looking rather irritated about this.

Harry and Jon spent a half hour in Gringotts and then an hour in Ollivander's getting Harry's custom made staff made. Harry wanted to take it with them, but Jon said it would be sent to Hogwarts and they'd pick it up from Dumbledore on September 1st. They walked out of Ollivander's and then walked to Quality Quidditch Supplies. Jon and Harry saw a beautiful broom in the window called a...

"Patriot... I've got to get that broom. I left Stateside just before it hit the market. It's supposed to be even better than a Firebolt. It's the best damn broom ever to come from the States. That is a great fuckin' broom Harry. I'm gonna go get one."

"Yeah some day...."

"No, Now. The Coops and Jenkins were both as rich as the Blacks. I have just as much money at my disposal as any rich spoilt kid you know. Soon I'll prove it."

Jon walked in and came out with A Patriot. The broom was made from such fine wood it shone white and it had little red and blue stars on it.

"Oh man I hope I get on one of those Quidditch teams Hare."

"Did you just call me Hare?"

"Sorry I like to shorten up names. Bad habit of mine. Now come on we gotta get back to Privet Drive."

Jon planted his staff and they were back in Surrey. In the time they had been gone clouds had covered the sun and the sky look liked it wanted to rain.

"Make sure all of your stuff's packed and ready to go. Some time this week I'll teleport into your room at night and then we'll teleport out of here."

"How do you do that, anyway? Some kind of two per Apparation?"

"Yeah 'cept it's not nearly as risky. Now get on home, Hare."

"Wait, will any of my friends be at this hideout place?"

"Those twins'll be and that Jenny, and Don... and some chick I can't pronounces name."

"That'd be Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione."

"Yeah and the red headed ones mom and dad will be by. Oh, and Dumbledore wanted me to give you these. I think they're your OWLs. Peace out, Hare."

Harry watched as Jon walked towards Mrs. Figg's house. Then it dawned on him exactly who Jon was. His father had a step-sister that was still alive and she had had this son. Jon Coop, a Sorcerer in training. And he, Harry, would learn how to be a sorcerer too. One thing bothered him though. Jon reminded him of younger version of his beloved deceased godfather....