There is an unspoken rule of the universe:
If things feel normal, something illegal is about to happen.
I woke up with that feeling.
You know the one—no ominous music, no system alarms, no shadows screaming in your head—just the deep, spiritual certainty that reality was winding up to slap you.
I lay there staring at the ceiling of my perfectly intact personal dimension mansion.
"…Too quiet," I muttered.
The shadows agreed. They always did.
Canon Integrity (Or: We Did Not Ruin Harry)
Before we go any further, let's establish something very important.
We did not tell Harry about the future.
Not the prophecy.
Not the deaths.
Not the betrayals.
Not the very long list of adults who needed therapy.
Why?
Because despite my usual tendency toward chaos, I am not a monster.
Harry deserved a childhood that wasn't burdened with narrative spoilers.
So for him?
Everything stayed canon.
Mostly.
Harry's Shopping Arc (As God and Rowling Intended)
Harry's Diagon Alley shopping trip went exactly as it was supposed to.
Hagrid showed up.
Big. Loud. Bearded. Emotionally supportive.
"Yer a wizard, Harry," he said, again, like it wasn't the most stressful sentence in British history.
Harry smiled like his face might crack.
I watched from a distance.
Not interfering.
Not hovering.
Just observing.
Because sometimes the best way to help destiny is to let it do its thing.
Harry bought his books.
His robes.
His cauldron.
His owl.
And yes—
His wand.
Holly.
Phoenix feather.
I felt the resonance from three streets away.
"…That's a good wand," I murmured.
Alice, watching from over my shoulder in the personal dimension, nodded.
"Perfect fit."
Rosalie crossed her arms.
"He still looks too small."
"He'll grow," I said. "And if he doesn't, I'll feed him."
Meanwhile: My Morning Got Weird
Back in my mansion, the morning continued.
Training.
Breakfast.
Existential dread.
Normal stuff.
Then the system chimed.
Daily spin.
Now, for two straight years, my daily gacha spins had been aggressively boring.
Cars.
Planes.
Boats.
Yachts I didn't need.
Entertainment packs.
Movies up to 2030.
Manga libraries.
Light novels.
Video games.
At one point, I got three different editions of the same console.
It was like the system had decided I was retired.
So naturally, I spun without looking.
"Daily gacha," I said lazily.
Ding.
Something dropped into my hand.
Soft.
Lacy.
Warm.
I froze.
"…No."
I looked down.
In my hand—
Akeno Himejima's lingerie.
Black.
Delicate.
Very expensive-looking.
And—
still warm.
I stared.
The shadows recoiled like they'd seen something cursed.
"…System," I said very carefully, "explain."
[Reward: Akeno Himejima's lingerie.]
[Status: Freshly discarded.]
Silence.
Then—
"…WHY."
[Randomized gacha outcome.]
"For TWO YEARS," I hissed, "you gave me VEHICLES."
[Probability variance.]
"I DON'T WANT PROBABILITY VARIANCE."
I held it away from my body like it might explode.
"…Why is it warm."
[Temporal proximity.]
I closed my eyes.
Breathed in.
Breathed out.
"On today," I said calmly, "of all days."
Somewhere in another universe, Akeno probably blinked and said "Huh."
I did not appreciate that thought.
I shoved the lingerie into my inventory so hard it probably filed a complaint.
"…I'm never spinning again."
The system did not believe me.
The Next Day: King's Cross (Canon Mode Activated)
The next morning, we arrived at King's Cross Station.
Harry was nervous.
Excited.
Trying not to look like he was about to explode into magic confetti.
I stayed back.
Observing.
Watching history repeat itself like a well-rehearsed play.
"Platform Nine and Three-Quarters," Harry read.
Hagrid grinned. "Straight at the wall."
Harry hesitated.
Then ran.
And vanished.
I smiled faintly.
"…There it is."
I followed more subtly.
No spectacle.
No dramatic entrance.
Just slipping through reality like I belonged there.
Because technically?
I did.
The Train Compartment (Canon, Frame by Frame)
The Hogwarts Express steamed and hissed like a beast waking from a nap.
Harry found an empty compartment.
Sat down.
Pulled out his snacks.
Cue—
Ron Weasley.
Freckles.
Hand-me-downs.
Good heart.
They talked.
Laughed.
Shared food.
Canon intact.
Hermione appeared soon after.
Bossy. Brilliant. Unapologetic.
"Has anyone seen a toad?" she asked.
Neville followed.
Panicked. Sweet. Toad-less.
Trevor was found.
Crisis averted.
I watched from another compartment.
Unseen.
Uninterfering.
Alice and Rosalie weren't physically there—but that didn't mean they missed anything.
The TV Function (Because Of Course I Bought That)
I had purchased a remote observation TV function from the system shop earlier.
Cost: 100,000 shop points.
Worth it.
Remaining points: 700,000.
Alice and Rosalie sat comfortably in my personal dimension, watching everything through my eyes like it was a reality show.
Alice clapped.
"Ooo! Hermione!"
Rosalie tilted her head.
"The red-haired one eats like he's fighting the food."
"That's Ron," I whispered mentally. "He's fine."
The train moved.
The world shifted.
Destiny rolled forward.
Hogwarts Arrival
Boats.
Lake.
Castle.
Even I had to admit—
Hogwarts knew how to make an entrance.
Students gathered.
Whispered.
Stared.
Harry looked awed.
Terrified.
Perfect.
Professor McGonagall appeared.
Sharp. Efficient. Terrifying.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said.
Sorting ceremony preparations began.
I stayed to the side.
Just another quiet kid.
Observing.
Measuring.
Waiting.
The Great Hall doors opened.
Light spilled out.
The ceiling glittered with stars.
And as the students lined up—
I felt it.
The story locking into place.
Sorting was about to begin.
I glanced inward, toward my personal dimension.
Alice leaned forward.
"Here we go."
Rosalie crossed her arms.
"Try not to break canon."
I smirked faintly.
"No promises," I said.
The hat was placed.
Names were called.
And I watched—
From the sidelines.
Because for now?
This wasn't my story to hijack.
Not yet.
[Chapter Seventeen Complete.]