Seeing Gwen tilt her head, full of curiosity, Harry of course couldn't tell her the truth, so he could only laugh it off.
"I did some martial arts training in the past," he said. "All just skills I picked up back then."
He bent his arm and struck a mock "strongman" pose. Under his shirt, the lean muscles were tough as steel wire, but his clothes didn't show a thing—he still looked like a slim, harmless boy.
"Bet you didn't expect it, huh? I'm actually really strong!"
Gwen covered her mouth and laughed. "Hahaha, all right, you win. You're the strongest. Anyway, this is where we split. See you tomorrow!"
Harry watched Gwen leave, then turned back and suddenly noticed that his younger brother Peter didn't look too happy. Concerned, he asked,
"What's wrong, Peter? Why do you look so down?"
Peter hesitated, started to speak, stopped, and finally forced the question out:
"Harry… do I really not have any talent for magic?"
As his closest family, Peter naturally knew that Harry's so-called "part-time job" wasn't about making money. He knew Harry was going to Kamar-Taj, the holy land of sorcerers, to learn magic.
He had once hoped he could learn magic alongside Harry. But to his disappointment, the Sorcerer Supreme had turned him down.
The Sorcerer Supreme told him he didn't have the aptitude for magic.
Knowing Harry's kind, considerate nature, it wasn't hard for him to guess what was weighing on his brother's mind. He patted Peter's shoulder and comforted him.
"Don't worry, Peter. You might not be suited to learning magic, but the Sorcerer Supreme told me you'll have a destiny of your own.
"And your destiny is anything but ordinary."
"But… what could be more amazing than magic?" Peter said, clearly lacking confidence.
Even though the Sorcerer Supreme had told him his future would also be extraordinary, Peter had always seen himself as a normal guy. He wasn't one of those superheroes from DC Comics, and he didn't have any special powers.
He'd tried to stand up for a classmate today, and if Harry hadn't stepped in, he would've just been beaten up by Flash.
Harry's expression turned serious.
"Trust me, Peter. I've got a feeling you're going to become someone incredible. You've got something most people don't."
Harry wasn't lying. He truly felt Peter was destined for more—he was just missing an opportunity.
Even today, Harry wasn't sure that if he'd been in Peter's shoes, he would've had the courage to stand up like that for a bullied classmate.
Just for that alone, Peter was already far above most people.
Harry had always felt that Peter had the makings of a Superman-level hero—he just didn't have the powers to match yet.
…
At a street corner, Harry said goodbye to Peter. Under Peter's envious gaze, he headed off toward the New York Sanctum.
In the heart of New York City's Greenwich Village, at 177A Bleecker Street, stood a building that looked utterly ordinary.
It was a three-story brownstone townhouse in a Victorian style, designed with French Baroque elements and a mansard roof.
Apart from the unusual circular window at the very top, everything about it exuded a quiet, classical charm.
Yet what most people on the street would never know was that this seemingly typical stone townhouse was, in the world of magic, a nexus of the multiverse and the supernatural—and one of the key nodes in the mystical shield that protects Earth.
For Harry, it was also another home in this world—second only to Uncle Ben's house in importance.
Stepping through the door of the New York Sanctum, he felt the space open up around him.
Because of the Sanctum's mystical nature, its interior was far larger than its exterior suggested.
Harry moved through the familiar halls and up the stairs, greeting the sorcerers he passed with practiced ease. Finally, he stepped through a fixed portal—and in an instant, he was standing in Kamar-Taj, the sanctuary hidden deep in the Himalayas.
He walked along the stone steps into the compound and emerged into a broad training courtyard. The sorcerers there had already begun their daily exercises under the guidance of the Sorcerer Supreme.
Harry didn't barge in to interrupt. Instead, he slipped into the formation of sorcerers and joined their training.
He stretched his hand forward, and brilliant golden runes flared into existence in midair, twisting and weaving together to form more intricate sigil structures.
If you watched carefully, it was easy to notice that Harry was different from the others.
Every other sorcerer wore a dull golden ring over two fingers. Only with that ring could they channel magic.
This ring was called a Sling Ring. It was their primary tool for spellcasting, making it easier to connect with other dimensions and borrow power from them.
Harry, however, wore no Sling Ring at all—and he could still cast magic.
It wasn't because Harry's mastery of magic was far superior to everyone else's, but because he wasn't borrowing power from any dimension in the first place.
He was using the magic inside his own body to activate the spells.
That was the very reason the Sorcerer Supreme had accepted him as a disciple. Harry was a natural spellcaster.
When the training session ended, the sorcerers smiled and greeted him one by one.
At school Harry was popular—and at Kamar-Taj, he was just as much the favourite of the sorcerers.
"Hmph."
Suddenly, a middle-aged man with a grim expression walked by. When he saw Harry, he gave a cold snort and stalked off without another word.
Harry's good mood immediately soured. He really couldn't understand it. He'd never done anything to Kaecilius—so why did the man hate him so much?
The odious Kaecilius reminded Harry of the hateful Dursleys.
They were all the same. Harry hadn't done anything wrong, yet he was still on the receiving end of their inexplicable malice.
But then he spotted the kindly, round-faced man walking behind Kaecilius, and a genuine smile returned to his face.
Thankfully, most people in the world were good. Not everyone treated him with hostility like Kaecilius did. The Sorcerer Supreme and Wong were both like that—kind and reliable.
If you asked Harry who he was closest to at Kamar-Taj besides the Sorcerer Supreme, the answer was undoubtedly Wong.
When Harry had been younger, Wong had always taught him patiently and helped him refine his magic.
Most spells at Kamar-Taj relied on power drawn from specific dimensions. To cast those spells using the magic inside Harry's body, the structure of the sigils had to be altered in advance.
And as Kamar-Taj's librarian, Wong was a master at that.
Wong watched Kaecilius's retreating back with a heavy gaze, then turned to Harry with a gentle smile.
"Don't take it to heart, Harry," he said. "Kaecilius lost his wife and daughter. His temper's been like this ever since. Except for the Sorcerer Supreme, he isn't exactly friendly to anyone."
Harry nodded. He accepted that explanation.
Then Wong turned and beckoned him forward.
"Come on, Harry. The Sorcerer Supreme is already waiting for you in the main hall. She'll be personally overseeing your lesson today."