This had turned out far more entertaining than I expected when I first arrived at the Potters. For weeks now, my days had been filled with a kind of excitement I never thought possible.
And no, it wasn't because I was bonding with my long-lost family. It was because I was learning spells, actual spells. Reality bent itself to the whim of a fourteen-year-old boy with a bit of wand-waving and mangled Latin. God and Physics from my old world must be having a fit.
I mean, what kind of world was this? Again and again, I asked myself why wizards hadn't conquered the globe. From where I stood, I saw at least five different ways to pull it off. None of them required brute force or clumsy mind control of the entire population, either. If they ever tried that route, they'd find out fast that Protego didn't mean much against Little Boy and Fat Man. History has already proved what normal human warfare could do.
No, wizards reminded me of something else entirely. Every single one was a walking weapon of influence—capable of charming or hypnotizing world leaders into submission. They wouldn't need armies. The world would serve them without even knowing it. Once again, I can confidently say all wizards were walking, talking apples of Eden; they just don't know it well.
"Good morning, Harry."
I turned to Lily's voice. She crossed the rooftop to join me, the rising sun painting her red hair like molten copper. I looked past her to the horizon where the sun climbed out of the Bristol Channel, spilling gold across the water. From here, you could see Somerset and the Mendip Hills cut against the morning sky. Compared to drab Surrey, this was paradise.
Though living here in Cardiff gave me an uneasy feeling. I don't know why.
"You look lost in thought," she said, stepping beside me.
It was weird, seeing her as a mother. And not for emotional reasons—I'd worked through most of that baggage already. No, it was the age thing that threw me off.
Wizards aged more slowly. Way slower. While Petunia was pushing middle age, with gray creeping into her hair and lines around her eyes, Lily looked like she could still be in university or college, not a mother of two teenagers. The only reason she even looks like a woman is that, despite aging slowly, giving birth makes women more mature, probably in response to the body's own needs, such as protecting or providing for children.
That's the only theory that seems possible, as witches and Wizards age very slowly at their prime, while ageing quickly like a Muggle once they are past their prime.
I'd done the math. Wizards hit their thirties around age sixty, their sixties around eighty. No wonder Petunia hated her sister. Every witch was a walking insult to every Muggle woman on the planet.
"Just plotting world domination," I said, stretching out my arm. Hedwig hopped from the railing onto my forearm, clicking impatiently at the insects I'd collected. "Normal teenager stuff."
My experiments with Petrificus Totalus had been going well. Rose insisted it was simple, and she was right. I could cast it cleanly now, repeatedly. She was a good teacher, though I doubted she realized how horrifying the curse actually was. Being locked in your own body, fully aware but helpless, I shuddered thinking about it.
The first time I'd tested it on myself, I made sure Immune was slotted permanently. The experience was enough to keep that perk active ever since. Now the family wondered why body-binding curses bounced off me. I told them I was built different. Surprisingly, they bought it.
"Planning to send letters?" Lily asked as I tied a note to Hedwig's leg. The snowy owl had demolished my entire bug collection before letting me attach anything. Magical insects were fascinating. They glowed, moved faster than normal bugs, and some even breathed colored smoke. Like catching weak magical creatures in some kid's game, but infinitely more interesting.
Rose had lent me her owl, though I suspected she enjoyed watching me bribe Hedwig into cooperation.
"Did you make friends in Diagon Alley?" Lily added hopefully.
"My cousin, Dudley," I said flatly. "Funny how you managed to ship him off to America without even a goodbye. Didn't know it was that easy to convince the Dursleys."
Bitterness crept into my voice. I gave her a hard look before turning back to the sunrise.
"We didn't bribe them, Harry." Her tone carried the wounded honesty that adults often use when questioned. "Do you really think my sister and her husband would leave their home so easily?"
Adults always said things like 'for the best' and 'trust us,' as if their version mattered more. But Vernon Dursley was predictable. He hated everything that wasn't English or Christian. If he hadn't left for money, that meant something else had scared him off. And the prime suspect was just beside me, one little push and it would be SPLAT!
I tried to control my breathing as my thoughts got wilder and faster at the situation. Had my parents threatened the Dursleys? After I explicitly told them not to?
Magic prickled under my skin as anger rose.
Volition: While adults have disappointed you before, assume innocence until proven guilty. This world does not hate you. Learn who acts with good intentions before you condemn the unknown.
Volition's voice echoed in my head, soft but firm. The perk helped center my thoughts, providing perspective when emotions ran hot.
"So enlighten me, Mother," I said with calculated sarcasm, though doubt gnawed at me. "What could possibly drive Vernon Dursley from his precious England?"
"They were already frightened of you, Harry. Your magic, even the helpful stuff like healing cuts or fixing broken things, kept them calm for a while." She sighed, eyes distant. "But darker times are coming. Even Muggles will feel it. We told them the truth, and yes, we helped them financially. Whatever our fights, they're still family."
I considered this. It made sense, actually. After a moment, I sighed.
"If it's going to be dangerous, why bring me here? Rose is way better at magic than I am, while I'd just be a target."
"Because a wizard can't stay among Muggles forever. You should never have been separated from us in the first place."
"Let's drop this," I said, not wanting to waste the morning. "But one last question—if it's dangerous, why not homeschool instead of Hogwarts? I'm excited about the castle filled with magic, trust me, but why take risks?"
"Because that school has been a sanctuary for a thousand years. The wards, the protections, the best teachers in Britain, many of them my friends, people I would trust with my own life, lives of my children." She leaned against the railing. "There's tension between your father and the headmaster right now, but Dumbledore is still the most powerful wizard alive. Dark wizards won't face him directly, and he'd never let students be harmed."
Good enough for me. Despite my mixed feelings about Dumbledore, I wanted to see Hogwarts. What Harry Potter fan didn't?
Yes, it would probably be dangerous. Life-threatening, even. But I didn't want safety.
I wanted adventure.
"Okay, let's go down," I said, turning from the view. "What's for breakfast?"
"Oh, you'll love it. Something I learned in Troy."
"Troy is real?!" I coughed in surprise.
"It's magical Turkey, silly," she giggled at my reaction. "Did you think all those ancient cities were just stories and vanished from the planet?"
The implications made my head spin. This world kept getting more interesting.
"I think this is a very bad idea, Rose," I yelled, gripping the broom for dear life, the knuckles white around the broom's handle as it hovered a few meters above the ground.
The bloody broom was one of the newer models; I hadn't caught the exact name, but since James was a complete Quidditch nerd — or jock —he regularly splurged on the latest releases. His guilty pleasure, apparently. The man collected racing and Quidditch brooms, much like some people collect vintage wines.
So naturally, Rose had decided to commandeer one for my "education."
"Don't worry about it, it'll be fine," she called out, circling around me on her own broom, her movements casual. And because she clearly wanted to make me look like an amateur, she wasn't even sitting; she was standing upright, balanced like she was showing off for an audience.
She was just farming aura points at this point.
"I know plenty of bone-mending charms and healing potions. Good practice for both of us."
Did I mention she was standing on her feet? On the broom? Like it was a bloody skateboard? Oh, I have? It doesn't matter if I have, because how is she doing that? And what do you mean by practice for both of us? Am I just your potion tester? Looks like my ginger sister is really soulless on the inside. I shook my head, trying not to laugh at my own spiraling thoughts as I focused on my sister instead of looking down at the grassy ground.
And Rose is still aura farming, doing the Titanic pose.
I want that! And I think she knows that I want that.
Show off.
I shot her my best glare, which probably came across more like horrified puppy eyes than actual intimidation.
"That was a joke," she said, blowing a raspberry at me.
When did my sister get so cheeky? She'd gotten sassier with me. Perhaps that was her true personality emerging now that she was at ease? Over the past few weeks, she'd dropped most of her initial shyness around me. We'd found our rhythm, disagreeing on things, giving each other the silent treatment for exactly thirty minutes, then pretending nothing happened and going right back to messing around together. It was weirdly natural.
Is this how typical siblings work, or are we the weird ones? Once I got along with Dudley, we really didn't get into that much arguing, probably because we were both hotheaded little shits together, causing trouble for other people, but it was different with Rose.
"Just focus, brother. It's not like riding a bicycle, where you have to balance constantly." She rose higher, spinning vertically without falling off her broom like some demented circus performer. "The broom handles stability automatically. All you control is direction, speed, and altitude. You just have to will yourself to move."
"Easy for you to say," I grumbled.
Part of me wanted to cheat, call on Hermes or Vayu, borrow the wind for a few minutes, and master flight instantly. But no. That would be a shortcut. It felt like giving up before I'd even started. Borrowed power teaches you nothing. Even with the Gacha and gods on my side, I had to prove I could do things myself.
I wanted to learn this properly, on my own merit. Same reason I'd been hitting the makeshift gym I had set up with James, as he agreed with me very easily, instead of looking into those beautification potions I'd read about. There was apparently a witch named Sacharissa Tugwood who'd made a fortune brewing appearance-enhancing draughts. But where was the satisfaction in that? If I wanted to look good, I'd earn it through actual effort. But who needs some witch's potion when I could bribe Aphrodite herself? But she'd probably turn me into that cursed femboy form again just to amuse herself.
Now, only if James stopped bothering me in the gym, it would be brilliant. Nosy old man trying to intrude on my personal space.
"Stop overthinking for two seconds," Rose said, flying closer while swooping in beside me, then perched on her broom sideways, both legs draped elegantly to one side like it was a park bench. "Feel how your arse isn't getting sore despite sitting on what's basically a stick?"
"Because it's enchanted?" I ventured, though I already knew the answer from various sources. Both from my past life and this one.
"Exactly. Cushioning charms, spatial expansion, and stability enchantments, the combination of these magic works splendidly. That thin piece of wood handles your weight like a proper chair. The magic makes sure you won't fall unless you're really trying to." She finally sat down like a normal witch. "It's just like sitting in any chair. You can stand on it, lean on it, whatever, but shake it around too much and you'll still tumble off. Does that make sense?"
I nodded, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders. Just like learning to ride a bike, really. Not the same as a bicycle, no, but the principle of trust and balance wasn't so different. Don't look down, don't panic, and trust the process.
"Right then," I muttered, and leaned forward. My heart is beating wildly.
"Whoooooo!" The shout tore from my throat as I shot forward, picking up speed as the wind whipped past my face. This was insane. The wind rushed against my face, and the ground blurred beneath me. For one insane, exhilarating moment, I laughed. This might be reckless, might break bones, might even kill me if I pushed too far, but by Zeus, it was the most alive I'd felt in years.
This was dangerous. This could very well kill me. This was the most fun I'd ever had in my life.
"Wait, wait, WAIT!" Rose's panicked voice chased after me as I dove toward the water, laughing like a maniac. "Don't go to the sea!"
But I was already skimming just above the waves, salt spray misting up to cool my face. Future Harry could deal with whatever trouble this caused.
Maybe this would come back to bite me later. Maybe I'd regret it.
That was future Harry's problem.
Right now? I just wanted to learn some magic. And I wanted to fly too.
Being grounded, that's certainly a new experience. I thought, as I continued to juggle spoons around me, using nothing but my wand, practicing Wingardium Leviosa, or should I say Levitation Charm. I grinned before forcing myself to calm down.
Apparently, flying over the open sea wasn't the smartest thing to do, despite how much fun I'd had. Apparently, I'd crossed the wards set around the manor while I rushed toward the water.
Well, Future Harry certainly is in trouble, thank you, past Harry, may you break some bones on your way down.
Okay, joking aside, I'll admit it was a stupid thing to do, who knew? The wards around the manor cut off just before the coastline, and of course, I had to zoom right past them.. Any Muggle hanging around the coastline could've spotted me. The only saving grace was that nobody, any Muggle or wizard, actually saw me, so I only got grounded instead of having Ministry officials at our doorstep.
Look, I wanted to cause trouble for James and Lily more than I'd like to admit, but I wasn't completely mental. Putting all of us in danger by committing actual crimes wasn't the plan.
Unless I could get away with it, of course, but that's a different matter entirely.
"I'm so bored," I groaned, flopping back on my bed and staring at the ceiling. Is this what Disney princesses feel like, locked in towers? I'll have to ask Rapunzel if I ever meet her.
At least I had my wand. Suddenly, my door burst open and I snapped my wand toward the table, sending the spoons back to their plate with ninja-like precision.
"Yo, what can I do for you, Lily?" I asked, watching my mother enter without even knocking as she stepped inside like she owned the place. Which, technically, she did. Still. How rude. What if I'd been doing unspeakable things with my right hand or something? "Didn't you learn how to knock?"
Her stern expression immediately crumbled, but before she could get all emotional, she composed herself. "Sorry, still getting used to privacy between family," she said almost sheepishly, then coughed. "Anyway, you're still very much grounded, mister, and no wand waving. Do you know how much trouble you could have gotten all of us—yourself into?" She corrected herself, probably trying to soften the blow as she softened the scold.
"Yeah, sorry. I know it wasn't smart," I grumbled, but owned up to it. No point letting pride get in the way when I was clearly in the wrong. "But I was flying for the first time." I sighed, going a bit dreamy. "It felt so freeing. All the stress and emotions just washed away by pure freedom, wind across my face."
"Luv, I know what you must be feeling." She sat beside me on the bed, reaching for my head. I tried to back away uncomfortably. "I was Muggleborn, so everything was new to me too, flying, potions, charms. I couldn't stop myself either. It's normal, but you have to do it in controlled environments." She looked out the window. "Unfortunately, laws and regulations don't care about feelings, so be careful from now on."
"Okay, okay, jeez. I know not to show magic to non-magical people, or Muggles, as you say. I've been hiding my magic since I could talk properly. It was just the heat of the moment that got me." I remembered all the trouble I'd gone through concealing my abilities as a kid. Which was bloody hard because magic felt like the best toy ever, and I'd looked for any excuse to use it.
It had been really difficult when I was little, only showing it to the Dursleys.
"Well, as long as you understand." She smiled before standing up. "Since we're having a guest this evening, why don't you get ready and freshen up? And drag your sister down with you, yeah?" She rushed out before I could answer.
Why ask if you're not gonna wait for my reply, woman? Unless that wasn't actually a request. That woman was really lucky I was chill enough to play Happy Family. Well, as long as I can get free access to magic and they don't push something ridiculous on me.
It's concerning how easily I could be bribed with the chance to learn magic.
Suddenly, I gasped as a familiar sensation washed through my mind. The Gacha was activating. I had no clue why or how. It had randomly given me abilities and items on my birthday and the day I'd met the Potters, but it had gone radio silent ever since.
Now it was waking up again. Why? How did this thing even work?
The Beastmaster (Passive)
Origin: Harry Potter Movie Series
You have a way with nature so great that you can form deep and lasting friendships with animals both magical and mundane. Through this you can pacify violent animals, making them more friendly to you, even those that might normally see humans as nothing more than a snack.
I gasped, feeling the information about the perk flood my mind, but otherwise sensed nothing new in my body or brain. Guess I wouldn't know the difference unless I actually met an animal in person.
I shook my head, walking toward the bathroom on this floor. The place was surprisingly luxurious yet old-fashioned, but with modern amenities, talking mirrors, and showers that gave hot or cold water on demand.
"I guess I should get ready," I muttered. "Wonder who the guest is."
I really hoped it was some girl my age or older instead of some middle-aged bloke going through his midlife crisis.
After a fresh bath and getting decent clothes, by wizarding standards. I walked across the hallway. I still felt giddy and childish whenever I wore robes, watching them flutter like a cape behind me. It feels like I'm wearing a superhero cape, and it gives me a happiness attack that I couldn't describe.
"Rose, you there?" I knocked on her door a few times but got no answer. Should I take a risk and barge in? I mean, what's the worst that could happen? It's not like my life was some typical harem romance anime where my timing would be hilariously wrong, or my twin was secretly pining for me, or something.
I gently put my hand on her door and pushed, not expecting it to open without turning the handle, but it did. The door swung open, and I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it just as quickly.
Rose was clearly in her pajamas, standing on top of her bed while singing.
Why did that song sound like "Firework" by Katy Perry?
"Wizard raises his wand and chants," she sang, wand in hand. "The party asks him to stop, but they can't."
Her wand expelled waves of flame as her voice turned from melodic to metallic. "He's gonna turn this room into a fiery ball of doom!" She reached the climax with a dramatic flourish. "The wizard casts Fireball! Don't care if he hits you all! He's gonna make you go oh oh oh! Please make your exit now! Now! now!"
Oh shite, that warning was for me. I realized this just as I saw a very real fireball coming my way. I dove to the ground as fire slammed into the doorframe above me.
Wait. There was no heat or explosion.
"By Merlin's beard, your face." Rose giggled, looking at me sprawled on the floor. I shot her an annoyed glare. She'd known I was there the whole time; this was nothing but a prank. Which wasn't new since I'd been the victim of her crimes several times since we'd been living together.
She is very lucky I let her get away with most of it. If it were anyone else, they'd be scared to show their face for months. Just ask Dudley, he'd been my partner in crime most of the time, and he came up with the nastiest pranks when older boys picked on us last year.
"Ha ha, very funny," I said, standing up and patting imaginary dust off my clothes. "Lily said to get ready, and she told me to remind you. Now I see why."
"What's that supposed to mean?" She put her hands on her hips with a petulant glare.
"That you're acting like an airhead. You forgot guests were coming, didn't you? Just get ready already." I walked near the window while facing her.
"Well, I was going to do it," she replied defensively.
"And you're still in your pajamas." I sighed. So that's why Lily told me to remind Rose, not because she'd forgotten, but because she was too lazy to get ready on time.
"You're a girl. You're supposed to fuss about makeup, spend an hour on clothes, and another on hairstyles," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You clearly failed in the girl protocol since I'm already ready, and I started fifteen minutes ago."
"Ha!" Rose pointed her wand at me threateningly. "Don't compare me to those Muggle girls you've seen, brother." She said haughtily before turning the wand to her face. She swished it with a few whispers, and her wet hair instantly dried as invisible hands began braiding it. Well, that's convenient. I watched the spellwork in fascination before snapping out of it. She replicated the hairstyle I gave her using Aphrodite's blessing back in Diagon Alley, except this time it was a spell, a pure wizarding spell from my sister.
She really is talented and a quick learner, not that I'm going to admit that. "Mid," I commented, only to get a confused eye raise from her.
I leaned on the window like I wasn't impressed while Rose opened her wardrobe, showing many outfits inside, mostly robes and cloaks, because wizards and witches, but she chose the first one that caught her eye.
Huh, she really is my sister, isn't she? Not to say I don't have fashion sense, but... okay, I wasn't gonna lie. I have zero fashion sense and usually wear whatever is comfortable unless it is cosplay or special occasions.
That was true in both my lives.
I suddenly snapped back to attention as Rose began unbuttoning her pajama top.
"Oi!" I snatched a pillow and lobbed it at her with sniper accuracy. It smacked her square in the face. She squeaked.
"Warn me first, idiot!" I huffed before vaulting straight out the window to the lawn below.
Despite appearances, this wasn't overreacting or reckless. I quickly waved my wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" My freefall slowed considerably as I landed gracefully on the ground, looking dramatic. Shame nobody was here to see it.
"I've really mastered this spell," I smiled, proud of myself. I'd been practicing nonstop ever since getting grounded for flying. The spell had turned out easier to learn than expected, though not as overpowered as I'd hoped.
I'd expected telekinesis at the tip of my wand, but this was too restricted. Levicorpus was designed specifically for living objects, but that was out of my reach for now. The Levitation Charm could only affect inanimate objects, target only one thing or a group if they were touching, and once cast, the target couldn't be changed.
So yeah, not what I'd expected. But at least I could cast it on myself or my clothes to make landings more graceful or float a few meters off the ground before getting tired from maintaining the spell. I shouldn't be upset that the spell wasn't what I'd expected. I should be happy I'd mastered it so quickly without any divine blessings or godly powers.
I'd done this through pure training, not life-threatening, but painful enough. Like floating those spoons so fast that if I made one mistake, they'd fall on my face. I didn't use forks since I could poke my eyes out, but regular spoons were relatively safe. And it worked. Pain was an excellent motivator as the One Piece training method did not lie. The results were mixed in my personal opinion. Still. Casting it on myself to land safely from a great height or floating a few meters off the ground for dramatic effect before fatigue sets in? Worth it.
"Woof!"
I startled at the sudden bark, eyes snapping toward the garden as a big black dog leaped from the bushes and landed in front of me.
I was so close to whipping out my wand and starting firing, hell, I would've straight-up thrown lightning bolts and fireballs without a wand. But I remembered what I'd received from the Gacha just an hour ago. So I put my wand away, going against every instinct. For all I knew, this was some wild dog or magical beast that looked like a dog. I wasn't one to drop my guard just because something looked cute.
The Beastmaster was the name of the perk. If the information was to be believed, which I did since it hadn't let me down yet except for some really stupid timing, this perk supposedly gave me the power of friendship. Without sass, it could pacify violent animals or help tame them, magical or mundane.
"Hey, boy," I said, approaching the obviously large dog. It had visible muscles, shining black fur, and sharp canine teeth. This was the biggest monster of a dog I'd ever seen. It felt like God had too much fun creating this thing and let some bear genome slip in.
Hey, Lord Jesus, maybe your father shouldn't have too much fun creating stuff? There were already enough horrifying things as it was.
The dog showed no sign of aggression as I approached, and I was one second from bolting before I calmed down. Even if this dog bit me, I'd probably survive. It would hurt badly, but I'd live. Healing potions were stacked in the house, and I had four different ways to blast this dog to smithereens. I needed to stop being a coward and trust my powers.
The dog barked playfully as I scratched its head, and the approving rumble I got in reply was a sign enough to keep petting.
Ripper, Aunt Marge's bulldog, had bitten me viciously in the past. For years, that dog had given me trouble, but when I learned dogs wouldn't respect you if you feared them, I'd stood my ground and refused to play victim.
Ripper had taken exception to this and straight-up mauled me while Marge howled with gleeful laughter.
Worst day of my life. Her laughter soon died as her body inflated like a balloon, along with her dog, as they flew away yelping and sobbing. She'd shared the same fate as in the original story, except she wasn't rescued and Obliviated. They'd died, simple as that, washing up in the ocean one day. Vernon didn't face me for months, making an exact face when I awakened my magic for the first time and nearly burned down our house.
It still felt strange at the time because I didn't face the consequences like I was expecting. If I didn't know any better, I would have assumed some mind fuckery was going on.
"Woof." The dog barked again, bringing me out of the dark memory. "Sorry, here are your scratches," I smiled, scratching those ears.
This dog was clean. A little too clean, I noticed suspiciously, finally remembering why this dog looked so familiar.
"You have two heartbeats. Are you—?"
"Harry, my boy! Come inside, our guests are here!" James hollered from the balcony above.
"What? But I never saw anyone enter?" I asked, confused.
"Ha! Did you forget about Floo already? Come inside." James laughed, then stopped as he saw where my hand was.
I turned and suddenly jumped back, whipping my wand out and pointing it at the very familiar stranger who stood where the dog had been.
"Hello there. You must be my favorite godson." The man in a neat leather jacket, instead of robes, bowed like we were three centuries in the past. "Sirius Black at your service, though despite what my name suggests, I don't really like that serious frown on your face,"
Beta: @Darklord331
Perks So far.
Active Slots: 2/5
1 Ragebaiter (Active)
Origin: Agatha All Along
You possess an exceptional talent for pushing people's emotional buttons and provoking intense anger. Whether through carefully chosen words or calculated actions, you excel at getting under others' skin, often sparking heated reactions or even outright violence. Your ability to incite fury is virtually unmatched, but beware—provoked individuals rarely hesitate to act on their rage. Ensure you're prepared to handle the consequences, as the wrath of your targets can be swift and utterly unforgiving.
2 Holy Water (Item)
Origin: Good Omens
The very last thing a demon should have, since it tends to melt demon-kind rather effectively. You now possess a bottomless thermos of genuine holy water. Do try to be careful with it. It looks rather ordinary, simple black metal except for the white Cross of Christ etched near the cap.
You have the ability to summon the thermos of holy water and have an inventory-like system that can only store this one thermos and nothing else.
3 Immune (Active)
[Epic Ability]
Complete immunity to all negative status effects. While active, the user cannot be poisoned, cursed, diseased, or subjected to any form of debuffing magic or mundane affliction.
4 Volition (Passive)
Elite Trait
Origin: Disco Elysium
You are unnaturally connected to your own inner morale. The voice that pushes you to move forward, your determination, and your will to keep going. Honing this sense can allow you not to lose your will even against extreme adversity and pull off feats of tremendous willpower with ease. But losing control over your volition can also lead to overconfidence.
5 The Beastmaster (Passive)
Origin: Harry Potter Movie Series
You have a way with nature so great that you can form deep and lasting friendships with animals both magical and mundane. Through this you can pacify violent animals, making them more friendly to you, even those that might normally see humans as nothing more than a snack.
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Well, the protest against corruption in Nepal finally ended. We set parliament on fire, kicked ministers on the road, made them run on the river, set their houses on fire. And we finally selected our first ever female PM on Discord VC. I heard Discord mods will also write the Constitution.
Throughout this, I didn't die, which is good. Otherwise, this chapter wouldn't have been updated. So, I'm back to business again.
Forgive me if today's chapter comes as over emotional, dramatic or too way hotheadness from MC. My own stress and emotions are reflected here more than I would like to admit.
I sank into the worn sofa in the Potters' sitting room, doing my best to mask the heat rising in my cheeks. The embarrassment gnawed at me, not because I'd been "caught in 4k," as my past self might've phrased it, fooled so neatly by Sirius's Animagus form.
No—the shame was inward. I, of all people, had forgotten something so fundamental. A towering black dog, padding about with too much intelligence in his eyes? That should have screamed Sirius Black. Yet I'd missed it. In this world, wizards didn't just pull rabbits from hats; they became them. And I had let my guard down.
Pathetic.
I could make excuses. It had been decades since my other life, and those memories had worn thin, the way old photographs blur and yellow in the sun. Details slipped through the cracks. Still, I should've remembered.
More damning still, I had allowed myself to forget that wizards could transform into animals at all. Hell, James could do it, even if I hadn't seen it yet, so it was very foolish of me to let my guard down in a way that would have made my past self cringe with secondhand embarrassment.
James's snort broke through my thoughts. "I can't believe you mistook him for a real dog, son." His grin was positively wicked as he took in my expression, no doubt assuming I was embarrassed for exactly the reason he thought. His hazel eyes crinkled at the corners as he took in what he undoubtedly interpreted as teenage mortification at a simple mistake.
He was wrong. My shame came from the fact that I fell for a prank that I shouldn't have under any circumstances. What's the point of foreknowledge if it's not going to come in handy?
"Well, how was I supposed to know he was a shapeshifting wizard?" I replied, deliberately avoiding the term 'Animagus' since, from their perspective, I shouldn't have encountered that particular piece of magical education yet.
Still, this dance was going to get old fast and pretending ignorance just to look normal? No, thank you. The constant mental gymnastics required to appear appropriately ignorant would become exhausting quickly. Unlike some anime protagonists or RPG leads or even the OG Harry Potter of my old books, I had no yearning for mundane normalcy. Why would anyone cling to ordinary when magic and adventure beckoned?
"It's called an Animagus," Sirius said with a laugh, clearly enjoying himself far too much. He lounged in his chair like the rogue he was, grey eyes glinting with mischief. "And I'll have you know, you gave some of the best ear scratches I've had in years. Got a pet at home, do you?"
I fixed him with the most disgusted expression I could muster, channeling every ounce of teenage indignation at my disposal. "That's revolting. That sounds incredibly creepy coming from some random old man. You do realize how creepy you sound, right? Try pulling that trick on me again, and I'll send you to the moon."
His grin only widened. My suspicion sharpened. This sort of prank might be funny among friends, but Sirius Black wasn't my friend. I knew him only through scraps of memory and secondhand books, movies, and fanfiction, stories that might be warped or flat-out wrong. He hadn't been to Azkaban, and this world was already showing itself less brittle than the one I'd read about. For all intents and purposes, Sirius was a stranger, and I treated him like one.
"I apologize for my husband's childish antics," the woman beside him cut in, her voice commanding enough to roll over Sirius's laughter. She didn't sound exasperated so much as resigned, though her apology was honest.
She was striking in her own way, with auburn hair that leaned more toward brown than Lily's vibrant red, and an overall bearing that suggested both competence and barely contained exasperation. Beside her sat what appeared to be a teenage girl with similar coloring, her brown-red hair catching the afternoon light filtering through the windows, blue eyes sharp with intelligence and careful observation.
Next to the girl was a boy who looked to be around eleven, bearing an unmistakable resemblance to Sirius despite possessing the same blue eyes as the woman. His nervous energy was palpable, the kind of barely contained excitement that seemed ready to burst forth at any moment.
"Oh, come on, it's practically tradition to introduce ourselves with a prank," Sirius protested, his enthusiasm undimmed by his wife's disapproval. "You'd better learn to appreciate these things, or how are you two going to live up to the Marauders' legacy?"
The expectation in his voice, the casual assumption that Rose and I would naturally want to follow in their footsteps, rankled more than it should have.
"I have no intention of living up to your legacy or anyone else's, thank you very much," I replied, crossing my arms and allowing my irritation to color my tone.
The words hung in the air with uncomfortable weight, effectively killing whatever jovial atmosphere Sirius had been attempting to cultivate. The silence that followed felt thick enough to cut with a knife, and I realized with a mixture of regret and stubborn pride that I'd been unnecessarily harsh.
This was becoming a distressing pattern. Had I somehow allocated all my natural talents to observation and deduction while leaving social skills completely underdeveloped?
The years with the Dursleys had certainly done me no favors in learning to interact with people who weren't actively hostile, and even their recent improvement in treatment couldn't undo over a decade of damage to my social development.
Fine. Arms crossed, face blank. Silence as armor. Athena, goddess of wisdom, if you're listening, now would be a fine time to hand over a perk in diplomacy.
I quietly turned off Rage Baiter from the active slot for now. The situation was getting worse as it was.
"Anyway," James began, his voice carrying the forced brightness of someone determinedly steering a conversation away from uncomfortable territory, "let me make proper introductions. This is Sirius Black, my best mate from our Hogwarts days, his wife Amelia Bones, their niece Susan, and their son Edgar."
Rose and I exchanged a glance. Neither of us had the faintest clue what to do with that.
"And of course, this is my daughter—"
"The Girl Who Lived, right?!" Edgar blurted, eyes wide, before he slapped both hands over his mouth. The silence that followed was so thick it might have been cast with a spell.
"Merlin's beard, lad, you couldn't keep it in, could you? We've got ourselves a little fanboy here," Sirius announced with obvious delight at his son's mortification. "He couldn't even sleep last night, he was so excited about meeting you."
"Daaaaaad," Edgar groaned, his face flushing crimson while Susan attempted to hide her giggles behind one hand.
"Erm, yes. I'm Rose Potter, as Dad already said. Just call me Rose." Rose's response carried the polite but distant tone she typically used with strangers, a marked contrast to the easy warmth she'd shown me from our very first meeting weeks ago.
It was fascinating to observe how differently she interacted with other people. While she'd been immediately drawn to my presence, actively seeking out my company and gradually relaxing into genuine comfort around me, she maintained a cool and kinda aloof with everyone else.
My own personality remained more consistently guarded regardless of the company, which others often interpreted as shyness rather than deliberate caution.
"And I'm Harry," I added shortly, giving a nod before turning back toward the window.
So much for first impressions. Brilliant meeting, really.
"Well, that went splendidly, didn't it?" Sirius drawled, settling back into the comfortable embrace of the living room couch with the satisfied air of someone who had accomplished exactly what they'd set out to do. The children had scattered from the room with a speed that rivaled their own hasty retreats from Professor Cuthbert Binns' legendarily boring History of Magic lectures during their Hogwarts days.
Sirius couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. They were definitely shaping up to be the next generation of Marauders.
Well, perhaps not Susan. The girl possessed admirable courage, certainly, but she carried herself with a gentleness and inherent sweetness that seemed almost out of place among children of her age. While her pure-hearted nature was endearing, it also made Sirius distinctly uncomfortable. He understood all too well how the wizarding world operated, and genuine kindness was rarely returned in equal measure unless one had the extraordinary fortune to be constantly surrounded by genuinely good people.
"Your godson probably doesn't like you very much," Amelia observed with bluntness, not mincing her words, her fingers working methodically against her temples in an attempt to ward off the headache she could feel building. "I hope you feel proud of that."
Her tone carried the long-suffering patience of someone who had grown accustomed to managing the fallout from her husband's impulses and pranks. While she rarely appreciated any of his pranks, she particularly despised the ones that created unnecessary dramas.
"Oh, come off it." Sirius waved a hand, dismissive. "He'll get over it. Harmless prank. Nothing emotional, nothing cruel." The prank had certainly been surprising, but it hadn't been emotionally damaging or physically harmful. By his standards, it had been relatively tame, so it wasn't even a proper prank.
Hell, Professor McGonagall does this every year, and you don't see people complaining.
"I don't know about that, mate," James interjected with a heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of weeks of accumulated frustration. "My son literally has the emotional range of a kneazle. He's been living with us for weeks now, and he still hasn't called us 'Mum' and 'Dad' even once."
"What exactly did you expect?" Amelia asked, her voice carrying the practical skepticism that made her so effective in her professional role. "He's a teenager, James. How were you behaving toward your own parents when you were fourteen? And you actually grew up with them, unlike Harry."
Her words cut straight to the heart of the matter with directness. The entire situation struck her as fundamentally absurd. They made the decision to abandon their son based on suspicions that he might be a Squib, which was problematic enough on its own merits, and now they somehow expected a fourteen-year-old boy to simply accept them back into his life without any emotional complications whatsoever.
What are the items Order Of The Phoenix members were smoking, and can she obtain some of those for her DMLE office? The stress of her current caseload might be more bearable with such things. Except she might catch this stupidity that was in the air in the process.
"So we're abandoning the training plans we discussed?" Sirius asked, unable to completely hide his disappointment. Teaching Harry about the intricacies of magical society had been one of the primary motivations behind this visit. Well that and hanging out with James and Lily without any Order's work or other issues with Dumbledore or DMLE. Just two friends and their family hanging out, just as they planned as lads in their Hogwarts days.
While he genuinely wanted to reconnect with his godchildren, he had also recognized an opportunity to help Harry navigate the wizarding world, drawing on his own experience with both communities.
"We will see that now, if it's possible, best not spring up on him," Lily commented, after getting to know her son, which was a very hard thing to do as it hurt to be seen as a stranger by her own flesh and blood; she at least learned many things about him, from habits to behaviour.
"So, once again I'm asking James, how's he? You must have learned something since last we talked/" Sirius asked, curiosity overriding his disappointment about the training plans.
"As James said, rather like a kneazle in many ways," Lily began, clearly choosing her words with care. "Though he has genuine enthusiasm for learning new spells and exercising like he's after the Olympics, he's only spending time with Rose. Those seem to be his only real interests at the moment, not even looking our way unless we first start."
"And the concerning thing is just how quickly he absorbs new spells like the second coming of Dumbledore or something," James added, his voice carrying a mixture of pride and unease. "Spells that took Rose months to master, he's executing successfully within days, and he's oddly religious about everything."
"Wait, hold on," Sirius interrupted, his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline. "Religious? Like, Christianity religion?"
"Among other belief systems, there are idols and symbols for everyone around the globe," Lily confirmed with a slight shake of her head. "Also, we probably should mention that he appears to be immune to most forms of curse work. We haven't cursed him to test this theory, of course, but with proper supervision and at his own request, he's immune to most curses. We haven't dared to test anything beyond fourth year level."
The room fell into stunned silence as the implications settled over the assembled adults. Magical resistance on such a scale was virtually unheard of, as if there were no recorded case of someone being practically immune to the curse itself, not even Voldemort, Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and many legendary figures of the Wizarding world.
Finally, Sirius broke the oppressive quiet with a question that had been haunting him now that things were beginning to click.
"So... is there any possibility that Harry was actually the child referenced in Sybill Trelawney's prophecy?"
Nobody answered him. The silence stretched on, heavy with implications none of them were quite ready to face.
Why can't they have a normal life for once?
Despite her naturally reserved demeanor with strangers, Rose clearly possessed far superior social skills compared to my own fumbling attempts at human interaction.
She chatted easily with Susan inside the house, drawing laughter from her with the kind of effortlessness I could never quite replicate. Their voices carried the easy rhythm of two people discovering common ground. Meanwhile, I had retreated to my preferred observation post on a sturdy oak branch outside the home, watching Edgar ping-pong between different groups like a social pinball, desperately seeking where he might fit.
I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. Being the youngest in any group is never as fun as adults imagine. From their perspective, being the youngest means getting away with almost anything, consequences softened, responsibilities absent, indulgences handed out like sweets at Christmas. But from the child's point of view? Nobody takes you seriously. Everyone assumes you know nothing. Nobody took your opinions seriously, regardless of their merit, and they treat you like a child, which, admittedly, you are. Still stings all the same.
"I didn't know the Girl Who Lived had a brother."
Edgar's voice drifted up from the ground below, where he stood craning his neck to peer at me through the canopy of leaves. His tone carried genuine curiosity mixed with something that might have been disappointment.
"Her name is Rose," I replied, allowing my wand to rotate smoothly between my fingers in the fluid motion Rose herself had demonstrated during our first meeting weeks ago and later taught me after we spent time together here. The polished wood caught occasional glints of sunlight filtering through the branches above. "And you should never assume you know everything about a situation."
Edgar bristled, his shoulders stiffening before he caught himself and forced the reaction down. Good recovery. He wasn't the sort to sulk long; my Rage Baiter perk thrummed inside me, whispering how effective the barb had been, despite my lackluster replay. My tone hadn't been sharp enough to warrant real offense, yet the perk twisted the delivery, magnifying the sting. The perk had even modulated my tone without conscious direction, adding just enough condescension to achieve maximum irritation while maintaining plausible deniability.
"I'm not assuming anything," Edgar said, his voice carrying a slight awkwardness that suggested he was still processing his momentary anger. "It's just that, seeing how famous your sister is, people would have at least heard about you if you existed." He paused, then looked up at me with renewed curiosity. "Are you adopted or something?"
The question made me choke back my laughter. It burst inside me, wild and amused, but I kept my face mostly neutral as I peered down at him.
"Come on, mate. You didn't look at James's hair? Lily's face? Rose's eyes? Family resemblance's a bit too strong to miss." My grin spread, teasing but not unkind. "As much as I'd like to think I'm one of a kind, nature disagreed."
Outwardly, I chuckled. Inwardly, the picture clicked together. Sirius had mentioned earlier that Edgar was a fanboy of Rose or, rather, the idea of Rose. The Girl Who Lived. The heroic figure everyone could project their fantasies onto.
He had likely grown up hearing stories about her legendary survival, thanks to the propaganda books in Diagon Alley, and looked forward to their potential friendship because our parents are very close. Sirius had encouraged these thoughts and mindset, suggesting that Edgar could serve as a brotherly figure to the famous girl when they eventually met.
Then reality arrived in the form of discovering that Rose already possessed an actual brother, one whose existence had somehow escaped public notice entirely.
If I wasn't his ultimate competition, I didn't know what was.
The perk whispered again: spread the salt. Taunt him. Twist the knife. But why?
This perk was working as intended, as it provided the guide inside my mind on how to use the knowledge I gathered on the boy, using it in cruel ways. I could mock his obvious disappointment, point out how pathetic it was to build an entire identity around worshipping someone he'd never met, or simply demonstrate my superior access to Rose's attention and affection.
But why in Merlin's name would I choose such a course of action?
Most of the problems I'd had since stepping into the wizarding world stemmed from adults making decisions without thinking through the consequences. Whatever grudges I might hold, they weren't the sort you take out on a kid. And Edgar, for all his jealousy, was already doing far better than I had at his age. He was talking, politely even, to someone he clearly didn't like. At eleven, I'd been a bloody mess by comparison.
Unless he actively worked to piss me off, as long as he didn't give me reason to despise him, he would remain in good standing as far as I was concerned. I am many things, pretty when provoked, downright cruel to those I consider my enemies, and overall personality of a hyperactive capybara, but I am never a bully. It's one of the things I refuse to be in any situation.
I'm not Ragebaiting the kid unless it's for a funny purpose and harmless. He's just eleven, for goodness' sake.
"Your name's Edgar, right?" I asked. "I heard your old man call you Poe. Named after that gloomy Muggle poet?"
The boy blinked, startled by the change in subject. Children are easy to redirect—I should know, having been one twice. That's why older siblings can turn tears into laughter with just a word or trick; kids' emotions are clay, soft and malleable.
For better or worse, this could backfire if some unsavoury individuals learn this art, as seen with the rumoured Oiled one.
Now I'm wondering if Diddy exists in this world, too.
"Yeah, at least Dad thought it was clever because he has this weird interest in the Muggle world for some reason," Edgar replied, easily drawn away from his earlier jealousy. "But Mum agreed because my late uncle was also named Edgar, so it worked out for everyone."
And just like that, the tension drained. From there, it didn't take much to impress him. I dropped from the tree with a controlled Levitation charm—nothing too flashy, but it drew a spark of awe from his eyes. I followed with a few more spells I'd managed to learn, simple but clean. He watched, hungry for every detail, his envy dissolving into admiration.
He admitted he wasn't allowed a wand yet, though his parents sometimes let him borrow theirs under strict supervision. Not to teach spells, but to help him feel the weight of magic, to learn the rhythm of handling it before his own time came.
And so, within minutes, I'd made my first friend in the wizarding world. Mouthy little brat, sure, but a friend nonetheless. He'd been raised in this world, steeped in its oddities, so I had no illusions about his "common sense" aligning with mine. Still, he knew the norms better than I did, and that had value.
"You grew up with Muggles? Why?" he asked suddenly, voice laced with genuine shock, as though that were some medieval punishment.
"Because of some stuff, kid. Just… stuff." I kept my tone casual, unwilling to drag him into the black hole of my personal history. He didn't need to know.
"Right," he drawled, unconvinced but letting it go. "Can you show me some more spells? Mum never demonstrates, and Dad's always too busy." His eagerness slipped through then—bright, unguarded, reminding me of myself when I first realized magic was real, when my theories of divine blessings turned into proof I could hold in my hands.
"Sure thing," I said with a small smile. "I don't know that many spells yet, but I'll show you what I can."
Spending time with Edgar turned out less of a chore than I'd feared. Once we moved past the awkward posturing and moved past his obvious jealousy regarding my relationship with Rose, and settled into discussions about magic itself, the boy demonstrated genuine enthusiasm and surprising insight for someone his age.
I found myself, dare I admit it, pleasantly surprised. However, as our conversation naturally began to wind down, I recognized the telltale signs of an impending social awkwardness. There's only so long you can milk a topic before it runs dry. After an hour, the conversation had withered into pauses and half-hearted questions. Dragging it further would've meant staring at each other in silence until one of us invented an excuse to leave.
So I spared us both the trouble. I clapped him on the shoulder, left him to harass his parents instead, and went looking for Rose.
My search for Rose led me through the familiar corridors of the Potter family mansion, past the photographs that moved and waved from their frames and the various magical knick-knacks that still filled me with wonder despite weeks of exposure. They couldn't talk, which was a real shame, as I am sure I could have learned so much from my ancestors, given that knowledge is tangible power in the Wizarding World.
I found her in the upstairs hallway, and from her posture and expression, it was clear she'd been actively looking for me as well. Her green eyes brightened with unmistakable relief when she spotted me, though her hands remained firmly planted on her hips in a gesture of mock accusation.
"Where were you? You left me to deal with her all alone," Rose said, her tone carrying just enough genuine exasperation to make me feel slightly guilty about my strategic retreat.
"Hey, you seemed to have it handled perfectly well," I replied, though even as the words left my mouth, I could feel an uncomfortable sensation building in my stomach. It wasn't fear, exactly, but something closely related that I couldn't quite put my finger on. "Besides, what was I supposed to say to a girl I'd never met before?"
"Say what you said to me," Rose replied with the air of someone stating the blindingly obvious. "You were the one who talked and talked and talked during our first meeting, remember?"
Her point was frustratingly valid. During our initial encounter weeks ago, I'd felt no such social paralysis. Words had flowed easily, and conversation had developed naturally.
"That was different. I was comfortable then." I rubbed at my stomach, as if the words themselves gave me indigestion. "Now it feels like… I don't know. Like I've got a stomachache at the thought of talking to strangers."
Especially strangers who happened to be pretty girls my age. That part I kept to myself, though the thought burned enough. Dudley, if you can hear me, I take it back. I mocked you once for choosing GTA: San Andreas over talking to Rose. I understand now. Forgive me, brother.
"Are you having anxiety?" Rose's tone softened into something crueler than teasing—a coo, the sort a cat gives after cornering a mouse. "Aww, my brother's shy…"
"I'm not shy, I'm nervous," I shot back, straightening as if my dignity needed shoring up. No force in the universe is more insufferable than a little sister with a smirk. Well, if she's my little sister. Our birthdays were the same, but I'd never asked who Lily had popped out first. For my pride's sake, I hoped it was me.
"Words are cheap, brother." She folded her arms, victorious. "If you're not shy, prove it. Go inside and take over. Because I just ran out of things to say, and she never stops talking." The whisper cracked at the edges, close to panic, before she caught herself and drew a deep breath. It hadn't occurred to me until that moment that Rose was in the same boat, drowning under the pressure of small talk.
And I just escaped that, for God's sake.
"You failed at another girl-protocol?" I asked with mock surprise. "Aren't you supposed to be naturally gifted at the whole chattering thing? Especially after how you were not panicking in the living room, unlike me."
"Say that again and I'll send you to the moon," Rose huffed, though her threat lacked any real heat. She turned toward her bedroom door, pausing to throw a challenging look over her shoulder that clearly dared me to follow.
"You dare use my own threats against me?" I muttered under my breath, though I couldn't suppress a laugh at her audacity.
The humor helped settle my nerves slightly. After all, I was destined to become a highly successful wizard, someone capable of reshaping the world according to his will. I couldn't allow teenage hormones and social anxiety to derail such ambitious plans before they'd even properly begun.
As if the thought had summoned it, the world froze. My heart gave a violent lurch. Deep inside, the Gacha stirred—the great wheel spinning, locking onto its prize.
Half Hot, Half Cold
Epic Ability
Origin: My Hero Academia
Allows the user to create and emit both ice and fire from either side of their body, also granting elemental resistance. With training, the two aspects may be combined into Frostflare.
I gasped, the breath escaping me in a plume of mist. Frost curled from my lips, hanging in the air. This wasn't Winter arriving. No—this was her goth sister Autumn sweeping in, dragging a shiver through my bones. Her hotter sister Summer trailed behind with smoke and flame.
I needed to stop imagining seasons as anime girls. Focus.
I raised both hands experimentally, watching in fascination as ice began to form around my left palm while flames danced around my right. No incantation was required, no wand movement or conscious focus. The elements responded to my will as naturally as breathing, as if they'd always been part of my fundamental nature.
"Hahahaha." The laughter that bubbled up from my chest carried a distinctly manic edge, born from the sheer overwhelming potential of what I'd just received. The implications were staggering.
I'm not sure how it manifested, but I started to think I might have gotten Quirk itself instead of a perk that appeared as magic. This fire and Ice nearly didn't cost any stamina as magic, or I needed to pray to the gods when I was about to use their domains.
It almost felt like pure biology rather than magic itself, and that's saying something, as I thought this world's magic was biological, as it would explain so much hype for bloodlines, muggles, and squibs.
But now I can add Quirk into the mix.
"The wizarding world is so fucked."
"Are you okay?" Rose's concerned voice cut through my euphoria as her head appeared around her bedroom door frame, her eyes narrowing as she took in my manic grin and the faint curl of frost still drifting from my lips.
I snapped my mouth shut, the last of my laughter and manic grin died on my face, replaced by the burning heat of embarrassment as I realized how I must have appeared to her.
"Please come inside after you get whatever that was out of your system," she added with the long-suffering patience of someone accustomed to dealing with eccentric people around her.
The door closed with a decisive click, leaving me alone in the hallway with my new ability and my wounded pride.
I forced myself to take several deep breaths as I settled into Rose's desk chair, which was surprisingly comfortable with its plush cushioning and ergonomic design, while the girls settled on Rose's bed. Not to be jealous, but hers looked infinitely better than mine, little flourishes carved into the posts, flower-petal designs dancing across the wallpaper. Definitely girlish compared to my own Spartan setup, but in a way that actually felt… nice.
Not that I was jealous or anything. Much.
Meanwhile, my lazy arse didn't even think of doing something like that after all this time I've been staying here.
"So we're going to be classmates, huh?" I began, projecting what I hoped was a cool and collected expression despite the persistent knot of anxiety in my stomach. "I suppose it makes sense to get acquainted now, since we'll all be spending the next year together in the same castle."
"Isn't it exciting?" Susan's eyes lit up immediately, and enthusiasm practically radiated from her voice. "What house do you think you'll get sorted into? Uncle Sirius never stops talking about Hogwarts this and Hogwarts that, can't wait to see if it actually lives up to his stories."
Rose and I exchanged glances across the room, a moment of silent communication passing between us. Now I understand exactly what my sister meant when she said Susan never stops talking. The girl carried herself like social anxiety was a distant relative she'd disowned years ago. The girl displayed absolutely no trace of shyness or social discomfort around either of us.
"You probably don't know what the Hogwarts houses mean or what they represent yet," Rose said, turning her attention toward me with the patient expression of someone preparing to deliver educational content. "Since you're still learning about wizarding traditions and everything because you're new."
It was a reasonable assumption on her part. During our weeks together, she'd never actually witnessed me studying or buried in books, since I typically spent my time either practicing spells or simply bothering her or enjoying our time with each other. From her perspective, my magical education appeared to consist entirely of practical experimentation rather than theoretical research.
"House of Bravery, Gryffindor; House of Hard Work and Loyalty, Hufflepuff; House of Wisdom, Ravenclaw; and House of Ambition and Cunning, Slytherin," I interrupted with what I hoped was a casual smirk, cutting off her explanation before she could properly begin.
Rose's green eyes narrowed as she fixed me with a glare that promised future retaliation for my interruption.
"So you did research this, you show-off," she muttered, though her pouting expression carried more mock annoyance than genuine irritation.
Had I just interrupted my sister and attempted to demonstrate superior knowledge in front of another girl? Absolutely. Who didn't enjoy impressing an attractive company when the opportunity presented itself?
Volition: Smooth move. Except, look at Susan's face. She's surprised, sure, but not impressed. Wrong audience. She's not enough of a nerd.
Translation: I'd chipped Rose's mood for nothing. Brilliant work, Harry.
"I think I'm going to end up in Gryffindor," Susan continued seamlessly, apparently unbothered by the brief interruption, her smile bubbling back like a spring. Social butterfly, indeed.
"Me too," Rose nodded, then added quickly, "But honestly, I wouldn't mind the others. We're there to learn magic, no matter the house."
I nodded in agreement with her sentiment. Theoretically speaking, she was absolutely correct. The school wouldn't provide superior education to one house while neglecting the others, so students from all four houses should possess equal opportunities for magical development.
Of course, theory and practice rarely align perfectly. Rowena Ravenclaw's Room of Requirement and her lost diadem, Godric Gryffindor's sword, and Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets with its big arse basilisk represented significant resources that could provide substantial advantages to students clever or fortunate enough to discover and utilize them. Not to mention whatever other secrets the four founders had left behind, potentially accessible only to members of their respective houses, even if things like I mentioned above were accessible to everyone who could get their hands on them, except for maybe the Gryphindor sword.
Still, I didn't say all that aloud. For once, I kept my mouth shut.
The conversation drifted on, light and easy. This time, I kept my ego in check, not trying to undercut Rose just to impress Susan. I thought I'd outgrown the teenage compulsion to act stupid around pretty girls. Apparently not.
Just because I possessed memories from a previous life didn't grant me immunity from my own biological impulses. I wasn't the same person as my past self, as our personalities had grown too far apart with each passing year.
A knock at the door interrupted our discussion as Edgar entered the room, looking slightly flustered by suddenly finding himself the center of attention, particularly from Rose.
"Mum's calling for you, Susan," he announced, addressing the girl directly. "I think it's time for us to head home."
"Aww, but I was just starting to really enjoy our conversation," Rose said with an almost whining quality to her voice.
"Oh, so that's how it is?" Susan asked, placing her hands on her chest and crossing them with an expression of displeasure. "You only started enjoying our talk at the very end, not the hours we talked. Is that what you're saying?"
I watched in fascination as Rose's face went through several rapid emotional transitions, apparently realizing she had just committed the same type of social blunders I tend to make. Hello foot, meet mouth.
"Uh, that's not what I meant- I mean, I-"
"Hahaha!" Susan's laughter shattered the building tension like glass, her entire demeanor shifting back to cheerful amusement. "You should have seen your face just then!"
"Ha ha, very funny," Rose grumbled, though relief was clearly visible in her expression.
"Seriously, though," Rose continued, her tone becoming more genuine, "I really did enjoy talking to another girl my own age for once. So I guess we'll see each other again at Hogwarts?"
"Not necessarily," Edgar interjected suddenly, disrupting the farewell atmosphere that had been developing. "Before you all disappear to Hogwarts and leave poor me behind all alone, how about we hang out together tomorrow?"
He reached into his pocket with theatrical flair before producing several pieces of paper. "I present these as an offering to cement our friendship."
I accepted one of the offered papers and examined it carefully, my eyebrows rising steadily as I processed the information. This appeared to be some kind of ticket for an arena, complete with a location that shocked me considerably.
Since when did Diagon Alley house a fighting arena? And what were these participant names? "One-Eyed Buster versus British Dueling Championship Runner-Up" sounded like something from an UFC rather than a magical duel.
"Oh, you did not!" Susan snatched the ticket from Edgar's hand, her voice carrying a mixture of excitement and alarm. "Where did you even get these? Only adults are supposed to be able to buy these kinds of admission."
Edgar's smile took on distinctly smug qualities. "I have my sources."
"And those sources are going straight to your mum when I tell her you're planning to attend something this dangerous," Susan threatened, though Edgar appeared completely unfazed by her warning.
"Oh dear cuz of mine, if I'm going to fall down, I'm dragging you along as always." He snickered, not quite threatening but not backing down without fighting back. "Besides, if I had planned to go alone, why would I give you all such rare tickets? I'm not going alone," he replied smoothly, stroking his chin with obviously practiced dramatic flair. "But you're not going to tell anyone about these tickets, because let's be honest, you don't want to be the party-pooper who ruins this adventure for our new friends, do you? That's exactly why all of us are going to attend together. Isn't that exciting?"
"Yes, it absolutely is!" Rose and I responded simultaneously, our voices overlapping with shared enthusiasm as we stared at the moving pictures embedded in the ticket. The picture displayed a dark, iron-barred cage, like a magical UFC ring. Runes glowed faintly on the edges, while dueling wizards clashed in sparks of spellfire, complete with a dark, gothic atmosphere that made the entire thing seem both thrilling and slightly dangerous. The animated trailer was literally displaying promotional footage of the previous match.
"Not you two as well," Susan sighed heavily, her resistance clearly beginning to crumble under the combined pressure. "There are all sorts of questionable people visiting these kinds of places. We're just fresh witches and wizards. It's dangerous for us without an adult experience."
"Where's your sense of adventure?" I asked, leaning forward with renewed interest. "Besides, even if there are some bad people around, people won't dare attempt anything inappropriate in such a public place so blatantly. As long as we stick together, we should be perfectly safe."
"See? He gets it completely," Edgar said with obvious approval, giving me an enthusiastic thumbs up.
"I've always wanted to see this type of magical combat with my own eyes," Rose confessed, her eyes still fixed on the moving images. "Actually, becoming a professional dueling champion is somewhere on my personal bucket list of life goals."
"Fine..." Susan's voice carried the resigned tone of someone who knew they were fighting a losing battle. "I don't want to be the only one ruining everyone's fun, so I'll accompany you to make sure nobody gets into serious trouble. And I'll keep silent about the whole thing."
"Girl, we're all the same age here," Rose muttered with obvious amusement. "Don't suddenly start acting like you're our wise older guardian or something."
"So we'll all meet tomorrow evening at Diagon Alley? Deal?" Edgar extended his right hand forward, palm facing downward in the universal gesture for a group commitment.
"I'll have to convince James and Lily to lift my current grounding status first, but assuming I can manage that, deal," I said, placing my hand on top of his.
"This is going to be absolutely incredible. A dueling championship runner-up in actual combat! That's almost as good as watching the real champion. Deal!" Rose added her hand to our growing stack with obvious excitement.
"Oh Merlin help me, we are all going to get in so much trouble for this..." Susan's voice carried an almost miserable quality, though she still added her hand to complete our pact. "But I suppose... Gryffindor spirit and all that. Deal."
"Hip hip hooray!" We all raised our joined hands toward the ceiling as I felt a grin spread across my face with an intensity that actually made my cheeks ache.
This day was awesome. I just can't believe I made two new friends without hating their guts, and now we are going to do normal teenager stuff. This is awesome.
It's almost as exciting as one time Dudley and I snuck into school and stole the Principal's computer because he was obviously corrupt and nobody was doing anything. So we figure we'll relieve him of his obviously high-end computer so we can play some GTA games. Hermes was very proud.
"Thank you so much, Edgar. You're clearly a very resourceful boy," Rose said warmly, wrapping him in a brief hug that left the poor kid looking ready to spontaneously combust from embarrassment. "I'm sure that even if we do get in trouble, the original Marauders would be proud of our initiative."
And thus a plan was born.
Now all I have to do is convince James and Lily how hard it would be?
The kitchen smelled of rosemary and boiled potatoes; late afternoon light slanted through the curtains and gilded the edge of a teacup. Plates scraped softly as someone shifted in their seat. For a moment, the room held that brittle calm that arrives before a storm.
"No, you absolutely will not, mister. You're still grounded," Lily declared the moment I voiced my request to visit Diagon Alley tomorrow. Her tone carried the kind of maternal authority that brooked no argument, the same inflection parents worldwide employed when they believed the matter was definitively settled. "Rules exist for very good reasons, and so do the consequences for breaking them."
"The same rules that nobody bothered to inform me about until it was too late to matter?" I shot back, crossing my arms as familiar irritation began building in my chest. The feeling was uncomfortably recognizable, the same frustrated anger that surfaced whenever I encountered obstacles to getting what I wanted.
Now that I heard myself, the response sounded undeniably arrogant, but what teenager wasn't at least somewhat arrogant by nature? Besides, I wasn't requesting permission to engage in anything genuinely horrendous or dangerous.
"Hey, I was trying to tell you about the wards, but you weren't listening," Rose interjected, speaking more from defensive instinct than any deliberate intention to get me in trouble or being a snitch. Unfortunately, the damage was already done.
"See? It was just a minor grounding punishment for such heavy mistakes; people have been thrown to Azzkaban for this. Back in my day—" James began, launching into what was clearly going to be another nostalgic lecture about appropriate consequences and character building, like what I've been hearing all this time, and I was getting sick of it!
Sick of being ignored, or people forcing their business on me!
His story was abruptly cut short as he smoothly drew his wand, deflecting the ceramic vase that had launched itself directly toward his face with practiced ease. The vase hovered, rim still ringing from the jolt, as if the room itself had learned a new, brittle rhythm. James' hand moved with that casual confidence of a man who trusted chaos to obey him more often than not. He tried to smile, to take the sting out of the tension. He failed, just a little.
Everyone in the room turned to stare at me in stunned silence.
"Hey, I'm not even touching my wand," I said with a smile that contained absolutely no trace of apology. "My magic must have just slipped a little."
"We're well aware that you can perform wandless magic," Lily replied, her voice carrying dangerous undertones as her expression shifted into genuine anger. "I cannot believe you just attempted something like that. Lashing out like a child throwing a tantrum!"
"I am a child," I pointed out with deliberate emphasis. As far as I was concerned, anyone who hadn't reached adulthood remained fundamentally a child, regardless of their mental maturity or life experience. "And is that really what we're calling this? A tantrum?" I laughed, though the sound carried no warmth whatsoever.
"This is simply me demonstrating that you two are crossing certain lines you absolutely shouldn't."
"Alright, enough," James said firmly, rising from his chair and raising both hands in a gesture meant to de-escalate the rapidly deteriorating situation. "Let's all take a step back and calm down. There's no need to ruin dinner over this. Emotions are running hot, and I understand that completely, but let's not allow this to escalate further, yeah?"
Lily gradually backed down from her aggressive posture, her anger slowly ebbing as she settled back into her chair. She crossed her arms and fixed me with a look of profound disappointment, as if I had committed some unforgivable moral transgression rather than simply expressing my frustration.
"So why don't you apologize to your mother and finish your dinner?" James suggested, though the hardened edge in his voice made it clear this wasn't actually a suggestion at all. "Let's end this conversation before it escalates into something we'll all regret."
The authoritative tone, the implicit assumption that obedience was not only expected but demanded, sent a fresh wave of anger coursing through my system. I laughed again, but this time the sound was bitter and sharp-edged.
For weeks now, I had listened to their requests, played along with their attempts at reconstructing some idealized family dynamic, and generally agreed to their various requests without significant resistance. Frankly, most of their requests hadn't been unreasonable enough to warrant outright defiance. But somewhere along the way, my compliance had apparently convinced them that they possessed genuine parental authority over me, the same kind of control that normal parents naturally exercised over their dependent children.
They were anything but normal parents to me, if parents at all.
"Are you actually serious right now?" I hissed, allowing all the negative emotions churning in my gut to color my voice. "How about we escalate things instead? Who exactly do you think you are? What gives you the right to decide whether I can go somewhere or not?"
The moment I released my tight control over my emotions, the consequences manifested immediately throughout the dining room. Windows and doors began slamming open and closed with violent regularity, creating a cacophony that would have been perfectly at home in any cheap horror movie.
My newly acquired Half Hot Half Cold ability responded to my emotional state like it was waiting for this, causing the windows to fog over as the temperature began dropping rapidly. The water in our glasses froze solid within seconds, while the food on our plates transformed into crystalline sculptures. All four of them jumped back from the table on pure instinct, including Rose.
"Harry! Calm down!" Rose shouted, shaking her rapidly numbing fingers in an attempt to restore circulation. "Look what you're doing to everything! You need to chill out! It's just a trip to Diagon Alley. We can go there anytime we want once your grounding period is over."
Her attempt at de-escalation only served to fuel my rage further, though my voice began cracking under the strain of my emotional outburst.
"It's not the grounding that has me pissed off," I managed to reply, my vocal cords steadying as some deeper part of my consciousness helped me regain control over my speech patterns.
"It's the fact that you two have the sheer audacity to believe you have any say whatsoever in deciding what I can and cannot do! Who the fuck do you think you are?! My parents?!"
They all stared at me with expressions of genuine confusion, as if I had just declared that gravity operated in reverse or that water wasn't wet.
"...Yes, we are your parents," James said slowly, his voice carrying the patient tone of someone explaining an obvious truth to a confused child.
"No, you are just some adults who decided to take me in, exactly the same way the Dursleys did before you," I shouted back, the ice in the room instantly giving way to flames as my emotional pendulum swung toward the opposite extreme. "You think that just because you happen to be my biological parents, I would automatically respect you or allow you to exercise any kind of authority over me?!"
This time everything was set on fire.
Fire bloomed along the edges of the tablecloth and then, absurdly, along the inked crest on a napkin.
The fire that erupted around us carried memories of another time, another place, when I was five years old and Vernon's belt had left welts across my back. In retaliation, I had burned down not just their house but half the neighborhood as well. The magical fire had consumed everything in its path until my rage finally exhausted itself.
But this time, I was dealing with trained wizards rather than helpless muggles. The flames disappeared with a few efficient wand movements, contained and extinguished before they could cause any real damage. The sight of flames in a wizarding house was less dramatic than it should have been; wands were raised, practiced flicks became reflex.
"Son, I really think you need to calm yourself down," Lily said carefully, her wand now pointed directly at me. Strangely enough, I felt no fear at the sight of it, nor did I experience any sense of betrayal at her threatening gesture. Instead, my eyes locked onto hers, and I could clearly read the hesitation written across her features. She was a coward, even if I ran to her with a knife, she couldn't bring herself to curse me out of her cowardice (love).
The instinct to escalate this confrontation into actual physical violence was almost overwhelming, but somehow I managed to begin reining in my runaway emotions. Was I really going to resort to the same tactics I had employed as a child years ago? Destroying property until I got my way? Had I truly failed to grow at all these years?
Slowly, my burning anger transformed into cold shame as rational thought finally reasserted itself. I looked around at my family, watching as all the effects of my accidental magic gradually faded back to normal.
"I'm sorry," I said to Lily, following James's earlier suggestion, though my motivations were entirely different from what he had intended.
The apology seemed to ease some of the tension in the room, allowing them to relax slightly.
"I'm sorry because I let my emotions get out of control and caused property damage," I continued, then fixed them both with a hard stare. "But I am absolutely not sorry for my words or my underlying point. You two are not my parents. You're just strangers who keep trying to force yourselves into my life without earning that position."
I knew they had fed me, provided shelter, and welcomed me into their home over these past weeks. I was genuinely grateful for their hospitality and care. But people provided the same basic necessities for their pets without expecting gratitude or obedience in return.
"I'll continue to listen to your requests just as I have for these past weeks, the same way I would respond to any caretakers," I said, my voice carrying deadly calm now that the fire had burned itself out. "But do not make the mistake of assuming you have any real authority over me. My freedom will always take precedence over everything else, including both of you."
I closed my eyes and activated my teleportation ability without bothering to select a specific destination. The spell would automatically transport me to some location I had previously visited, and at this moment, I genuinely didn't care where that might be.
Anywhere else would be better than here.
Beta: @Darklord331
Perks So far.
Active Slots: 3/5
1: Ragebaiter (Active)
Origin: Agatha All Along
You possess an exceptional talent for pushing people's emotional buttons and provoking intense anger. Whether through carefully chosen words or calculated actions, you excel at getting under others' skin, often sparking heated reactions or even outright violence. Your ability to incite fury is virtually unmatched, but beware—provoked individuals rarely hesitate to act on their rage. Ensure you're prepared to handle the consequences, as the wrath of your targets can be swift and utterly unforgiving.
2: Holy Water (Item)
Origin: Good Omens
The very last thing a demon should have, since it tends to melt demon-kind rather effectively. You now possess a bottomless thermos of genuine holy water. Do try to be careful with it. It looks rather ordinary, simple black metal except for the white Cross of Christ etched near the cap.
You have the ability to summon the thermos of holy water and have an inventory-like system that can only store this one thermos and nothing else.
3: Immune (Active)
[Epic Ability]
Complete immunity to all negative status effects. While active, the user cannot be poisoned, cursed, diseased, or subjected to any form of debuffing magic or mundane affliction.
4: Volition (Passive)
Elite Trait
Origin: Disco Elysium
You are unnaturally connected to your own inner morale. The voice that pushes you to move forward, your determination, and your will to keep going. Honing this sense can allow you not to lose your will even against extreme adversity and pull off feats of tremendous willpower with ease. But losing control over your volition can also lead to overconfidence.
5: The Beastmaster (Passive)
Origin: Harry Potter Movie Series
You have a way with nature so great that you can form deep and lasting friendships with animals both magical and mundane. Through this you can pacify violent animals, making them more friendly to you, even those that might normally see humans as nothing more than a snack.
6: Half Hot, Half Cold (Active)
Epic Ability
Origin: My Hero Academia
Allows the user to create and emit both ice and fire from either side of their body, also granting elemental resistance. With training, the two aspects may be combined into Frostflare.
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