The translucent virtual panel had been with Jerry since the very first day of his rebirth in this world. It was something only he could perceive, a mysterious interface that had taken him years to understand fully.
Its purpose was elegantly profound yet straightforward: for every good deed Jerry performed, the panel awarded him little red stars. Once he accumulated 5,000 of these stars, he could exchange them for something extraordinary, wizard blood, which would grant him passage to a parallel world where he could learn magic.
Most intriguingly, according to the panel's instructions, time in his main world would enter a static state while he ventured into this parallel realm. He could learn and grow elsewhere without missing a moment here.
Over the years, Jerry had diligently performed good deeds within his capabilities, helping elderly neighbors cross busy streets, taking out trash for those with mobility issues, confronting bullies who tormented his classmates, and shouldering household chores without being asked. With the mind of an adult in a child's body, his academic performance naturally excelled as well.
These consistent actions had earned him a glowing reputation among family members, neighbours, and teachers alike. Jerry was often held up as the model child, the standard by which other parents measured their own children's behaviour.
He'd also discovered an interesting quirk of the panel system, while good deeds were rewarded, evil actions went unpunished. Petty theft or mean-spirited behaviour wouldn't decrease his accumulated stars. The system seemed designed purely for incentive rather than moral judgment.
"Six thousand," Jerry whispered, staring at his current star count. He took a deep breath and hovered his finger over the exchange button.
In truth, he'd reached the required threshold of 5,000 stars nearly six months ago but had hesitated to make the exchange. The panel was explicit in its warning: death in the parallel world meant death in the main world; injuries sustained there would manifest upon his return.
His current family wasn't wealthy, but they lived comfortably in the middle class. If he continued with his studies and worked hard, his future standard of living would be secure. Was it worth risking everything to venture into an unknown magical realm?
Deep down, Jerry preferred stability over adventure. In his previous life, his dreams had been modest, owning a home, having a car, sharing his life with a gentle, understanding wife, enjoying home-cooked meals after work, and taking vacations with his family. He'd never aspired to fame or excessive fortune, just a peaceful existence filled with small, meaningful joys.
Those simple dreams had proven elusive for a rural child with limited resources. Before his unexpected death in his previous life, he'd never even saved enough for a down payment on a modest home.
But circumstances had changed. Now he knew with certainty that he inhabited the dangerous Marvel universe. The rattling submachine gun fire beside him on the bus was stark evidence that without powers of his own, neither he nor his family would ever truly be safe in this world.
While Jerry longed for tranquility, he wasn't naive. Sometimes power was necessary to protect what mattered most.
His finger descended on the exchange button.
"Confirm exchange of wizard blood. Beginning implantation..." the panel displayed.
"Implantation successful. Extracting parallel small world..."
"Successfully extracted parallel small world: 'Harry Potter.' Beginning identity implantation..."
"Identity implantation successful. Commencing transfer..."
"First-time experience duration: one month. Future visits will require additional red star exchanges for time extensions."
As these messages flashed across the panel, Jerry felt the world around him freeze into perfect stillness. His vision darkened at the edges, consciousness slipping away as he was drawn into another reality.
August 1st, 1991.
In a modest orphanage in the town of Winton, Surrey, just outside London, a brown-haired boy slowly sat up in bed, pressing his fingers against his temples.
"Harry Potter's world? I didn't expect that," Jerry murmured, a smile spreading across his face. "At least I've seen all the films in this series!"
He'd feared being sent to some completely unfamiliar magical realm. Instead, he found himself in a fictional universe he knew reasonably well. While many details had grown fuzzy with time, he still recalled the general trajectory of events.
This world would be relatively safe as long as he avoided entanglement with Harry Potter and his friends, at least until Voldemort's resurrection, which should still be four or five years away from this point in the timeline.
As his dizziness subsided, Jerry began sorting through the new memories and identity information that had been implanted in his mind. He was still Jerry Carmen in this world but had no family, he was a resident of Edward Orphanage. His artificial memories included basic information about the orphanage staff and his fellow orphans, but little else.
"First things first, let's get familiar with the surroundings," he decided.
Jerry dressed quickly, ready to explore his temporary home. Just as he reached for the door, a sharp tapping sound came from the window. He turned to find a gray long-eared owl perched on the sill, a letter clutched in its beak, claws rapping impatiently against the glass.
"It's happening already?" Jerry hurried to the window, sliding it open to allow the owl entry.
The bird swooped gracefully into the room, deposited the envelope on a small table, then gave an expectant hoot, clearly waiting for some form of payment or treat.
Jerry patted his empty pockets and offered the owl an apologetic shrug, accompanied by his most charming smile.
The owl tilted its head, hooted again with what sounded remarkably like disapproval, then spread its wings and soared back through the open window.
"Well then," Jerry muttered. "Day one, and I've already been judged wanting by postal wildlife."
Shaking his head with a rueful smile, he stepped forward to examine the letter. The envelope wasn't ordinary paper but crafted from high-quality parchment. Emerald green ink spelled out:
Recipient: Jerry Carmen
Address: Mr. Jerry Carmen, Second Floor, Edward Orphanage, Winton Township, Surrey.
He turned the envelope over to find the familiar wax seal, a large "H" surrounded by four animals: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake.
Breaking the seal, Jerry withdrew two pieces of parchment. The first listed all required books, equipment, and precautionary notes for first-year Hogwarts students. The second was the official acceptance letter itself:
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Albus Dumbledore
(President of the International Confederation of Wizards, First Class Grand Sorcerer of the Order of Merlin, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot)
Dear Mr. Jerry Carmen:
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to study at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of all necessary books and equipment.
The term begins on September 1st. I will personally visit Edward Orphanage tomorrow at 9:00 AM to receive your response.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Jerry carefully folded the letters and tucked them away, his mind already racing with possibilities.
"Perfect timing," he whispered with growing excitement. "If I start now, I can visit Diagon Alley, purchase magic books, and begin learning spells. By the time my month here ends and I return to my world, I'll have something far more effective than courage to deal with those armed robbers."