Hp: a job in the multiverse

[Moonpie_99]

My attempt to add one more Harry Potter into all the different Harrys in the multiverse…

A Harry Potter SI? FanFiction

—————————

My name is… It doesn't matter; names are for the living, and I'm finally dead…

Hahahaha, finally!!…

I was so sick of being hooked to machines and poked by motherf*cking crazy scientists who thought my body somehow held the secret to life without a disease.

I mean, sure, I was born very sick, like the doctors predicted my death minutes after I was born kind of sick, but I didn't die… and then I went on and contracted more viruses and diseases along the way and still didn't die—still I wasn't healthy either!!!

I was f*king bedridden my whole life, but who can reason with crazy? Not me, that's for sure…

By the time I died, I probably had every f*cking disease known to man in my body, and those crazy motherf*kers still couldn't figure out what was keeping me from dying…

Incompetent motherf*ckers!!!!…

I wish they all die in the most horrific way possible…

.

Anyway, where am I??

I looked around and began to notice that I can move… and somehow I can see 360° and that shouldn't be possible—No horizon, no up or down—just endless void pressing against my senses like static

It's very weird, you know? Being able to move after a lifetime of not knowing how or what it feels like. My limbs—if I even have limbs—hum with a lightness I've never felt

It's a very contradictory feeling…

Anyhow, let's stop thinking and start moving, hahahahahaha.

This is amazing!!!

Being able to see, move, and feel something other than pain.

It's exciting?

Hmmm? Maybe that's what I'm feeling now; I mean, besides this liberating sensation, which in my humble opinion is what freedom feels like—Or maybe it's just the absence of needles jabbing my veins— I don't know and I don't care either.

After moving, laughing, crying, maybe a little cursing, and madness, which lasted for a little while, I started to calm down…

Okay, maybe not "a little," but you try releasing 16? or maybe 17 years of pent-up, jumbled, and all-the-way fu*ked-up emotions and you'll see what happens. You can't? Then Imagine a dam breaking, but the water's made of screams… that's the most apt description I can come up with at the moment…

Now that I have calmed down enough, I began to actually think about where I am? And let me tell you… I Don't Have The Slightest Idea.

I mean, I can't even comprehend what this place is, let alone actually knowing where or what this place is…

For starters, it's dark, but at the same time it's not.

Oh yes, time. There's no time here.

Are you asking how I know? Well, I don't; I can just tell.

Here, in this place? No time, space, or physical law exists, or maybe just the ones I'm familiar with don't.

I can hear your disbelief from here, but think about it.

Every being that has existed inside these laws for long enough can just tell they are there no matter what, but here, I just can't.

So I just continued moving somewhere?? I mean, there's no point in sitting still, plus now that I can move ^~^, I am not staying still for even a little…

I don't know how long I have been moving, but I didn't mind, so when I felt something coming my way.
How? I don't know—instinct maybe.

Anyhow, when I felt it coming my way, I too moved toward it. Toward the first flicker of—something—in this nothingness…

Perhaps I would find out what this void is??…

Ugh!!!!! Pain!!!

Pain like I had never felt before assaulted me. And coming from me, that's an accomplishment…

Looking for the source of my pain, I let my instinct guide me and found myself tearing apart and devouring what looked like another soul.

How did I know it was a soul, you ask? Heh~

There's something else within this soul that's trying to take root in me now. A parasite or something? I don't know but I don't like it…

Alarmed, I did the only thing I could, which was to tear out the part of my soul that had this thing in it and shred it apart… I succeeded, mostly, but the more I shredded, the more it resisted, so I threw whatever was left and moved away…

You know, maybe this was a blessing instead; the soul that I devoured was human.

I instinctively knew it was a soul when we touched, and I knew it was a human soul by the memories I had seen so far.

There are no meaningful memories about his personal life in the memories I have; it may be with the part that I threw away along with that thing??

Eh, who cares? So how do I know he is human? Well, in his memories, of course, and there are some that match the knowledge I have about history and stuff. I mean, even though I am not the most knowledgeable, I still know some things…

Though, most of his memories are about stories, either visual or written, they were entertaining.

These stories are interesting. I mean, I didn't know what a manga was nor what a comic was. I still found them very interesting. Still, I will look into these memories thoroughly later; for now, I need to inspect myself and see what happened.

So, after looking over and over again, inspecting my soul, I concluded that nothing was wrong aside from some of my personal memories being missing.

Not like I needed them in the first place. What good are memories of hospitals, laboratories and white coats?

I think they are with the part of me that I shredded and threw away.

Anyway, it doesn't matter at the moment because it's time to look into what these two balls of swirling energy I found are doing in my soul.

My instinct tells me they're something good, so as I started studying them—which by the way was me poking at them and seeing what would happen—I figured out what they are.

And of course I would figure them out; I was smart, plus I poked and nudged them long enough that I felt like they told me just to stop…

Anyway, it turned out these swirling balls of energy were skills that the other soul somehow had, and if I had to guess based on the stories I had seen, then the soul I somehow devoured had met what the stories call a ROB and was stupid enough to believe it could make wishes for free.

I don't know for sure because I don't have memories of its encounter, but that was my best guess…

So that would also mean the thing that I threw away was the so-called system, huh? Good, I probably dodged a bullet there, huh.

I guess there's a lesson here: "Always trust your instincts."

Anyway, this skill is interesting.

After examining them for a bit more, I discovered what they are… These things are preprogrammed masses of energy that engrave what they can do into a person's soul so that they can use them as if they were their own.

So instead of letting them do their thing, I tried to devour them the same way I did before with the soul, and it worked. I mean, I instinctively knew I could, so I tried, and it actually worked…

Now I have two new skills that feel like I have always had them, and the best part is that they can never be taken from my soul in any way, unlike before, even if something tears my soul apart.

Hahahaha! Sure, if something tried to tear apart my soul and devour it like I did, maybe they could? I don't actually know…

Anyway, these skills are interesting.

The first skill is something that made me into a natural-born sage, which means I will always be able to use natural energy—Whatever that means…

What's the use of that? I don't know yet, but if the stories I have are anything to go by, then that means I will become powerful. Sure, I can't use it now, but that doesn't matter.

On the other hand, the second skill, which is called 'archmage's qualification,' is something that I can use now, which's great for me.

Why, you ask?? Because this skill enables me to build a magical core that can accommodate any kind of energy—which was great and all, but that wasn't the important part…

The important part is that it gave me an intuitive aptitude for anything I want to study, and guess what I want to study? This place!—This beautiful, horrifying, endless void…

I finally have a way that may as well become my ticket out of this void!!! Yay me!!

The first thing I did with my newfound ability was, of course, using it to study my own soul, and well, I found out that my soul has a somewhat weak ability to adapt to outside stimuli; that's also the reason I still have consciousness/move and other things while staying in this void.

Furthermore, I started to be able to manipulate my own soul without relying on my instincts, so I started by organizing my memories, old and new, by creating a place to hold them. Sure, I loosened the connection between these memories and the feelings attached to them so that I won't be swayed by feelings like those dumb MCs in the stories I had seen so far when making decisions in the future—Emotions are liabilities and I've had enough of those…

I also found out that my emotional center—as I called it—is heavily damaged, which could be the result of multiple things, one of which was my ripping apart my own soul earlier, but hey, I can fix that in the future? Maybe??

After a while, I started studying this void, and after numerous tries, I miserably failed to understand anything beyond the fact that I wasn't strong enough to. It's like I was a newborn trying to comprehend how the universe works.

What I mean is that I don't yet have the capacity to understand—like a level 0 being that doesn't have the knowledge, power, or the qualifications needed for level 1000 knowledge, if that makes sense—Which maybe doesn't. But hey, progress!…

Though the good thing I found is that this place does have energy, which means I can start creating my magical core.

I don't know if I will be able to, but that won't stop me from trying…

Heheheh… I did it!! After so many failures, I was able to create a magical core—A tiny, flickering thing—but mine!.

My very own magical core… I am going to be an archmage!! Suck it, scientists!!

After a tedious process of trying to sense, draw, and guide the smallest and faintest traces of energy and failing repeatedly, I had finally done it!! And now I feel tired and sleepy—The good kind of tired, for once.

But can I sleep here? Ah, it doesn't matter; I will sleep.

Still, before sleeping, I enveloped my soul with a layer of my newly acquired void energy to shield myself, and then I slept…

---

While the soul slept, not caring about anything, it kept drifting in the 'void' as it called it, somehow guided by the energy around it, until it stopped suddenly in front of what could only be described as the personification of the void.

This being, as if disturbed by the newly arrived soul, shifted a little and began to look at it. For a while, nothing happened—until it did.

The void suddenly shook slightly and then stopped.

The soul also shook slightly, and the energy around it fluctuated a little.

For a time, this occurred again and again.

From an outside perspective, it appeared as if the being was having a conversation with both the sleeping soul and the void simultaneously.

Then, the being moved and slowly took a small part of the void, molding and stretching it as if creating a veil, and then it placed the veil over the still sleeping soul.

The veil dissolved into a small, dust-like energy and entered the soul, completely disregarding the shield around it…

The being then gently picked up the soul, and they left, leaving no visible traces of them ever being there in the first place.

…

 

[Kraigen23]

Threadmark

 

[Moonpie_99]

When I woke up, I was no longer in the void; instead, I found myself standing in a white plane that stretched as far as I could see. While it was white for the most part, there were different colorful lines meeting together in the center, creating a node that looked like multiple rainbows had been mixed together.


The colors were connected and interwoven in a way that created a masterpiece of colorful visuals, but, for the life of me, I couldn't think of a better description than "rainbow puke."


I had never been a color enthusiast—which may have been because I was blind most of my life—but I doubt these hues could be seen by the naked eye.


Anyway, where the hell am I? I don't think souls can sleepwalk. I checked my soul and found no abnormalities, but perhaps a more thorough examination was needed.


"Ah, you woke up! Good! We have a lot to talk about," said an old man who suddenly appeared out of nowhere, speaking in a language I had never heard before—yet, strangely, I understood him.


"You don't need to monologue to yourself, you know. You're not thinking quietly; you're just broadcasting your thoughts like a radio," the old man continued while I was still trying to figure things out.


Once again, I was puzzled by how I understood him or what he meant; I was obviously talking to myself, a habit I had developed for some strange reason. Perhaps the answer lies with the part of my soul I had thrown away?


"You mean you did that to yourself? What possessed you to do such a foolish thing?" the old man inquired, coming closer and waving his hand in front of me—like some kind of lunatic conducting an invisible orchestra for an invisible audience.


"You're really strange. Your soul is lacking some aspects, while having an abundance of others, and there's minor damage, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with time and proper knowledge," he added, somehow having checked my soul despite the energy shield that had been up since I went to sleep.


"Hey, old man, who are you? How can you inspect my soul while my shield is up? And what do you mean by everything you just said? Where is this place? Also, why am I here?" I asked him. And it just occurred to me that I had actually spoken somehow, which was interesting! I'll be sure to study this later.


"Again, you don't need to monologue, and yes, souls and spiritual beings can speak, but seeing how you want to research this yourself, I won't spoil the topic for you…


To answer your questions though: you are here because I requested someone from outside my multiverse, and you were brought here.


This place is a small dimensional plane created by me. I could inspect your soul because it was a non-aggressive diagnostic scan that passed right through; you should work on how you shield your soul better.


And *#I am the #%#One *#%Above *#%All*~, the creator of this part of the #}multiversal %}reality *#%chain." I heard the old man say…


Okay, I understood most of the things he said, but the last part flew over my head. It was overwhelming enough that I couldn't actually hear properly, let alone understand… interesting!!!


"Okay, honestly, what I understood may as well be different from what you said, but let me summarize to see if I got this right: I was delivered here like some kind of package; you can scan me because my shield is ineffective; and you're something-something creator of something multiverse something. Am I correct so far?"


"Eh, close enough. Can't fault you really—you're inexperienced with this way of speaking—and you are not strong enough to understand what I actually explained, but that's neither here nor there.


I requested someone from outside my multiverse for a job, and you were delivered, so you'll do just fine.


Now, before we talk about anything else, tell me about yourself," the old man said with interest.


Hmm? Why am I referring to a multiverse creator—if I understood anything he said correctly—as "old man"? He looks the part, plus the worst that could happen is being erased from existence.


Well, it might be better; my experience so far doesn't bode well for living. Still, I would prefer to actually use my skills before that…


"Again, your monologue is unnecessary; you should learn to utilize that shield of yours better so that you could selectively choose what you want others to hear…


Anyway, I don't mind being called old man, although not many do, for some reason. I mean—it's not like I would do anything to them, really, but I guess that's that.


Now tell me about your journey here; it sounds intriguing!" the old man said, berating me for my poor use of the shield. Maybe he doesn't know that I created this one while fighting sleep in the void. Eh, it doesn't matter.


I started talking with the old man, sharing everything I remembered about what had happened and how I got here, to which he listened with sparkling eyes that I didn't know one could have.


Upon reflection, though, it was strange; I don't think I'm sharing all of this with him purely because I want to, because I know I am not the sharing type. So there must either be something influencing me to do so, or I just felt like talking to someone about everything for once—but that's not important right now.


I learned something odd while telling him about the stories I now know from the memories I gained. He told me that some of them portrayed what happened in universes within his multiverse.


So, of course, I asked him about it—about how that could be possible—but he didn't tell me much; all he said was, "You didn't actually know what's possible, so why would this be any different?"


He also told me, "If you ever grow to be as strong and knowledgeable as me, then you would find out."


If you ask me, though, I think he was just lazy and didn't want to explain…


On another note, I somewhat found out how and why I appeared in that void alone after dying instead of going wherever other people go after dying.


His words were, "You might have had something that's considered supernatural in a reality that has no tolerance for such a thing, or you could have been cursed by a god in your previous world. Sure, I know the exact cause but not the actual reason. I don't think telling you anything about that would help in any way.


I mean, it could also be countless other reasons that got you kicked out of where you were.


What you should be certain of is that you were banished or rejected from your previous world into what you call the void, which is, by the way, the wrong definition for that place, but I'm not going to correct you."


And so, as you might infer, I was too special for the world itself—the world was jealous of me and had to kick me out. That means I just got confirmation of what I had always known—I'm just too awesome… hehe.


"Narcissistic thoughts aside, what you should be proud of are your instincts. That encounter with the soul you told me about was most likely a higher entity using a misguided human soul as a slave to do its bidding, because no soul goes through that place to reach a destination.


I am not telling you that reincarnation stories you know are wrong or that they don't happen. It's just that when they happen, they always stay in their own @&!:& section of the multiverse…


And before you ask, yes, if you hadn't followed your instincts, you would have most likely been enslaved instead," the old man interrupted my thoughts once again.


What he said was likely true; from the knowledge I gleaned from the soul and his life stories, the only conclusion I could come to is that it takes a special kind of fool to believe they are getting wishes from nowhere, just because they saved a child or because an omnipotent being is bored.


Especially the bored omnipotent being—that one is hilarious.


Though, to be fair, it might just be my trust issues influencing how I think. Plus, not everyone wishes to stay dead, so I guess they do what they can to keep living? I don't know, and I don't actually want to know…


Anyway, I wanted to ask the old man about the job he mentioned. "Hey, old man, you said something about a job. Care to give me the details? And am I getting paid?"


"Ah, the job, yes. I will send you to one of my worlds that has been forcefully merged with two others while I was taking care of something more urgent.


Your task is to find the individual who is reincarnated there and acquire his so-called system, either peacefully or by force—it's up to you.


The important thing is that you take care of him before his system can take root and does irreversible damage that would force me to erase that part of my multiverse and recreate it…


Before you ask: yes, I have taken care of those responsible; yes, you'll be given the means to extract the system and send it to me; yes, you're getting paid in the form of living again; no, that's all you'll receive for this job," the old man said.


He just answers whatever he likes, huh?


Before I could continue my musings, he cut in again. "Anyway, kid, it was nice getting to know you, but now I'm sending you to Death's realm so you can finalize your living-again situation."


Before I could ask how Death would help me, I was kicked out and moved in what felt like a bizarre sensation of sliding, gliding, stretching, and twisting.


Huh, that was fun.


I looked around and found myself in a dark place designed to look frightening—like how one decorates their home for Halloween.


Still, now that I got the feel of this place, it feels like home to me. So I did the first thing that popped into my head and said, "Honey, I'm home!"


And before you ask, yes, I learned this from one of the stories…


"Welcome," a smooth voice said from behind me. How did she get here without my notice? I don't know. And I didn't get much time to ponder that because the voice started talking again while I was turning around…


"Before you continue with that annoying habit of yours, let me introduce myself. I am Death. I will be responsible for sending your soul into the body of a recently deceased wizard who wishes to stay dead and 'reunite' with his family…


However, he still has an ongoing debt to magic and fate, so you'll be dealing with them in his stead unless, of course, you want to lose an easy way to get magic—which, if I had to guess, the answer is no. So, get ready."


Once again, I found myself being shoved somewhere, only to find myself in a train station where a scrawny kid sat beside a deformed-looking baby.


I scanned the baby-shaped thing first and then the boy, discovering that the baby was a deformed fragment of a soul, while the kid was a soul without abnormalities. And so, I walked toward him and sat beside him in silence.


The quiet lasted until the kid's attention snapped to me. Startled, he jumped up, looking at me vigilantly, he asked,


"Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you get here? Why?" Before he could continue, I cut him off like the old man and Death had done to me:


"Hey there, slow down kid. Sit down, take a deep breath, and then we'll talk." He eyed me suspiciously for a while but eventually sat, realizing I meant no harm.


"Well, first things first: I don't have a name. No—I had one, but I lost it along with some key memories that made up my identity.


So Call me whatever pops into your head.


As for why I'm here? Well, Death sent me to take the place of someone who wants to stay dead. So, what's your story."


Of course he didn't take my words for it but after some back and forth we eventually began discussing our lives…


Initially skeptical, the kid's doubts faded as we traded questions and answers. I quickly figured out how to project memories for him to see—and taught him to do the same too.


With the skepticism gone, we talked for a long while, puzzling over why he lingered here even after my arrival.


——

 

[Moonpie_99]

You know, now that I actually think about it, this is the first time I've talked with someone for a prolonged period of time—and no, the old man doesn't count.


Still, to think my first friend is a soul stuck between life and death.


It reminds me of that saying, "Birds of a feather flock together," hahahahaha.


Seeing me laugh, Harry suddenly looked at me and asked, "Why are you laughing?"


"It just occurred to me that my first friend, much like me, is a soul that didn't want to stay alive," I said with a grin, which he matched before laughing as well.


"Still, how long have we been here?" I asked him.


It's true; we've shared everything about ourselves, inspected our souls, and even reviewed our memories and read some of the stories I know.


We also figured out how to sense emotions simply because we thought it would be funny to feel secondhand embarrassment after a funny story.


Guess what? It was, I thought, but now I'm starting to get confused about what to do next.


"I don't know, but I'm starting to think your theory about me willingly giving you my identity was what we were supposed to do," he said.


That was indeed what we were meant to do, and I knew it from the moment I arrived here.


I just wanted to see what would happen and if there was another way because, as a soul with a partial identity myself, I understand what having no identity entails much better.


"Yeah, so before we start, is there anything you want me to do in your stead?" I asked him.


"Oh yes, just pull Dumbledore's beard for me once," he replied… I knew he was going to say that.


"So let's get this over with. I, Harry James Potter, willingly give you my identity with all that it entails. May you have a better life than I," he said.


Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by memories, feelings, and other things that I couldn't quite place. They vanished as quickly as they came, but apparently being momentarily disoriented was enough for me to miss my first friend's last moments here—and now he was truly gone.


You know, I thought I would be sad, but I don't know what I feel. Looking around, I realized I was still in the same place, so I began searching for the soul shred that was here, which after a while of walking, I found it still at the foot of the chair where it had been from the start.


Crouching down and touching it, I used my energy to scan it. It was a piece of the soul of one Tom Marvolo Riddle, aka Voldemort, that Harry had spoken about.


Seizing the opportunity, I devoured it like I had done with the other soul by shredding it to pieces and absorbing it—still not before using my energy to filter out everything else.


What was left was a black blob that I discarded.


I was then shifted into a dark, gloomy room where I found the body of Harry Potter—or my body now.


I really need to solve this dissociation problem, and fast.


I touched the body, and that's how I found myself in a dark, fractured space that looked like a failed imitation of the void. After looking around for a bit, I instinctively knew I was in my mindscape, so I started observing, probing, and studying it for a while.


Mindscapes for wizards are metaphysical places that represent one of the two connection points between the soul and the body; the other one is the magical core. If the knowledge I gained from Voldemort is anything to go by…


I know this because he had done some sacrificial ritual that forcefully connected his magical core with his mindscape and body to achieve something called "the Trifecta"…


Now, with this new discovery, I started to work on how I would achieve that without relying on said ritual…


Since my mindscape already had a rudimentary level of formation, I began what I'd called "Project Void Mind"—a sophisticated way of saying I tried my hardest to make my mindscape a real representation of the void I had been in before coming here.


Some might ask why; the answer isn't that complicated.


Just because I survived there for a little while by what I now know was luck doesn't mean others can.


Consider the confusion and panic of someone entering my mindscape only to be trapped there, trying to navigate a place where sense—common or otherwise—is on vacation.


I mean, I did try my hardest to transform my mindscape into the void as I perceived it: no space, time, gravity, or direction—just a massive black void of nothingness and confusion.


After completing that, the only thing left was to make it more refined and harder to access.


What remained was sorting my memories, feelings, and stuff in between, so that's what I did.


I created an office table with a chair in the middle of my void, sat down, and started to create a book.


The book took many attempts to create because I was trying to make it using void energy while also hoping it would become semi-physical.


In the end, I succeeded. God, having intuitive aptitude is fantastic! After creating my book, which I dubbed *The Book of Knowledge, I redesigned the desk and chair for maximum comfort.


Once I was done, I began sorting my memories, separating mine and Harry's from Voldemort's.


I did weaken the connection to the memories I had while deleting any emotions attached to Voldemort's memories…


My intention was for the life I lived before waking up to exist only as an informational reference and nothing more, though I don't know how that would work out.


Surprisingly, this whole process took the longest.


Who would've thought sorting memories would be so bothersome? You have to go through every single memory, double-check for lingering feelings, put them in memory books, sort them in the drawer, and then repeat the process all over again three times.


After sorting through everything, including the new memories I gained with the identity of Harry Potter—which, let me tell you, took the most time and hassle—it was finally time to fix my emotional center.


The representation of my emotional center in my mindscape is a small, cracked ball the size of a baseball, with different colors swirling around.


I took all the emotions I had siphoned from my memories and started injecting them into my emotional center.


After a while, I was done. The ball of emotions was now bigger, and most of the cracks had started to mend.


Relief washed over me, and I finally felt complete. I'm now Harry Potter, and I'm going to turn the world upside down.


Now then, let's go check on my soul to see what's happening there.


So I went into my soul; you know, now that I think about it, shifting between my mindscape and what I dubbed as "soulscape" is like what I imagine shifting perspectives in stories feels like.


Heh, if my life is being written as a story, this information would be very interesting for all the isekai enthusiasts.


Anyway, now that I'm looking at my soul, I can safely say that with a few finishing touches, my soul would be able to start healing.


But first, I want to organize this place. There are still some memories I took from Voldemort locked here—those with the heaviest feelings that I have to thoroughly check again before sending a copy to my mindscape.


Some might ask why? I'll explain. You see, usually all memories are stored in the subconscious of a person, and when I say all, I mean every single one from birth to death.


Now, how does the soul of a normal person carry these memories after death? The answer is that when a person dies and "they see their life flash before their eyes," that's the process of memory transfer from the body to the soul—thus answering one of the mysteries of death, memories, identities, and souls.


Now, I'm not a normal person, not by a long shot, and that complicates the situation of my soulscape.


My soul is damaged, and thus I only had very limited access to this place. But now that my soul has started healing, this will turn into almost complete access.


I say "almost" because I still need to do some things to gain full control over my soulscape and thus manipulate my soul as I please while alive—but that's for later.


Still, my soulscape now looked more vivid and real. It mirrored my mindscape in design but had a bookshelf behind the chair where my memory books are sorted, instead of them being inside three endless drawers on a desk.


Now that I've finished my job here, I'll go check on the emotional center in my soul before starting the shielding process.


The emotional center here in my soul looked just like the one in my mindscape and was almost repaired too, so all is good.


What I need to do from now on is continue strengthening my soul by saturating it with every energy I gain access to in the future and have it adapt.


Hehehe… having a soul that can adapt is cheating.


Now, for protection, the shield I put on my soul has to be the best, so I let my instincts—which have been strengthened after acquiring intuitive aptitude—take the wheel.


The result was a thin layer of void energy directly connected to and enveloping my soul, with two simple functions: adaptation and upgrade.


It will adapt to anything and shield from everything.


So as long as the shield isn't obliterated in one blow, it will adapt to the attack and upgrade—which in turn will strengthen my soul…


Looking at the result, I can only marvel at what you can do with this void energy.


This energy is still a mystery to me even now, but using something and figuring out how it works are two different things*.


I don't know if this would be possible with any other energy, but I guess I'll know more in the future.


Now that this is done, it's time to check if my magical core is ready.


Having two magical cores merge together is suicidal, but my own magical core is just better. Now that I've stopped using void energy, the process is smoother and faster than before.


Observing the process in which my void core all but devoured the other core was a fascinating experience that gave me a lot of insight into magic.


Firstly, from my perspective, magic is a piece of creation. Now, most would argue, "How can that be?" Well, it just is.


Now, if you ask about different kinds of magic and the like, then I'll say that's just the aspect it takes depending on who uses it.


Secondly, different people understand and use magic differently depending on factors like talent, age, knowledge, species, etc.


Lastly, wizards have access to an aspect of magic that, in the right hands, can be considered either overpowered or weak—with no middle ground.


Still, that's just what I've managed to understand until now. My definition of magic could change with more knowledge… maybe?


--


P@treon: hunter20

 

[Moonpie_99]

--


There's something wrong with the wizarding world—believe me—I'm not just saying this to throw dirt on wizards or to brag about my genius. I'm saying this after reviewing everything I have on the wizarding world and magic in my memories, more than once, to come to this conclusion.


I mean, the sheer squandered potential alone was enough for me to say 'fu*k them' and let them die, let alone their traditions, their way of living, and everything in between…


Then there's Voldemort. He was a different kind of idiot. Again, I'm not criticizing him just for the sake of it—but stating my opinion after reviewing every memory he had—sure, he was a prodigy in magic. He had a wealth of knowledge that would make most wizards and witches cry in shame, but he was also unbelievably arrogant.


Once he believed something to be true or came up with a conclusion he thought was right? That's it.


I mean, what kind of idiot tears apart his own soul in hopes of immortality? Isn't it common sense that the soul should stay intact? Plus, shouldn't he at least check and read more books on souls to confirm what he read wasn't actually some closely guarded ancient secret but a rambling of some mad wizard?


Still, there's always that someone who wants to know if immortality is more than just a hoax, huh?


The truth is, everything dies—that should be the first obvious rule. Even death dies in the end, and everything turns into nothingness just to be born again… It's called the cycle of life and death for a reason —It's in the name — But I guess there's no cure for human idiocy.


There are so many ways to achieve long life as a wizard, and I've already discovered one in his memories no less and that was If you reach the state of Trifecta, then the only thing you need after that is to keep your body healthy, and you can live up to 600 years minimum, depending on how strong your body and magic are.


That also didn't mean you can't enhance your body, magic, and soul to live longer, even though he discovered this ritual in an indian magical community, years after Hogwarts, he still should have been more patient and less arrogant…


Uh, I got distracted again; the idiocy of this fool just got to me somehow.


Anyway, what was I talking about? Ah, yes, wasted magical potential.


You see, in this world, wizard magic is a semi-structured magical system. It's like a bastard child born of a relationship between desire, wish, and reality magic.


From the spells I've reviewed, it directly bypasses the concepts of white, dark, holy, demonic etc...


Which means As long as you have the intent, focus, emotions, and a little bit of arithmetic inclination to either check if the spell would work beforehand or give it the structure needed, you can create and use any spell.


Anyway, good for me I guess. Now that I'm here, learning, modifying and creating spells with the help of my Book of Knowledge will be a walk in the park…


Oh, didn't I tell you why I created that thing? Well, when I was about to sort my memories, the idea popped into my head: "Why can't I create a book directly connected to my mindscape, powered by my magic, to do anything I can do in my mindscape but bring it into the real world?" Now, I know it's a crazy idea most would dismiss as impossible, but I lived in the void for a while. I know firsthand that almost everything is possible.


And now? I'm so thankful for creating it. This book feels like a fresh, new mind. It's not sentient by any means —I have to think of what I want it to do for it to function—but right now, I'm thrilled I made this book!!


Believe me, if you had a mind that never gets bored simulating different outcomes for spell modifications, you'd be happy too.


Now, about my body: it's being reconstructed from the ground up with magic—void, or as I've decided to call it, "null" energy (a more accurate description)—and the new natural energy.


The natural energy started flowing through my core soon after it settled, thanks to my Sage skill activating.


It began passively purifying the surrounding natural energy before absorbing it into my core and spreading it throughout my body.


This created a domino effect where my other energies did the same, which brought me a hellish pain I dubbed "the Great Pain of Rebirth".


I'm kidding—it merely started an energy revolt inside my body, where every ounce of energy did as it pleased. This led me to let my instincts take over, which, if I do say so myself, was the right call.


After a while, I entered the stage of what I call Body Reformation, due to my energies unifying together to transform my body into the best conductor possible.


It's a painful process, but when you can retreat into your mindscape and lose yourself in studying magic, it becomes tolerable.


By my calculations, everything should've taken a week. Afterward, I'd need a ton of food—but that's alright—I'll figure it out later.


Now, I've tried studying natural energy, but all I could conclude was the word "nature."


It's like someone's stopping me, saying, "Start by purifying nature before studying it."


Anyway, since I've got nothing else to do, I'll fully absorb the magical knowledge I have, especially Voldemort's. That piece of work has some very interesting insights on magic, so I need to analyze them thoroughly before tweaking them.


You see, he's obsessed with what he calls "dark" and "black" magic—and to some extent, he's right. But here's the kicker: it's not truly dark magic. It's wizard magic that's heavily inclined toward desire/wish and emotion.


Dark magic is a type embedded with the concept of darkness , and its users can't wield other magic due to its corruptive nature of said magic towards other concepts and energies.


Wizard magic bypasses this by relying on desire, emotion, and the wish aspect embedded in it… That's why I need to tweak spells before using them.


I just fixed my emotional center—I don't want to wreck it again.


What? You Still don't get it? Let me explain more clearly. The Killing Curse for example isn't really a dark magic.


What it does is tap into desire and wish aspect of a wizards magic, feeding on the caster's dark emotions to build up the charge and fulfill its intent.


How does it kill? It slaps the death aspect onto the spell without the need of having the death concept in the magic itself. Meaning you cast a death spell without having death magic…


Why's this dangerous? Feeding emotions—negative or positive—to magic has consequences: like addiction, emotional imbalance, etc.


This imbalance disrupts wizards' emotional centers, messing with their souls—and as you'd guess, that's bad.


Five days of hellish pain have passed. Even though I hid in my mindscape, cutting off sensory feedback, I still felt the need to acknowledge what my body endured.


Now, two days ahead of schedule, everything's done. Time to start my plan and mess with a lot of people. A reckoning is about to begin…


I woke up in my body. Everything felt new— the sensory feedback is disorienting, the balance is off, and I am famished. Still, I pushed through and stood up…


I needed to get out and find something to eat first…


Without wasting time, I flexed my hands, broke the cuffs, waved my newly freed hand casting a spell to open the door, and started walking down the corridor.


The deranged laughter and heart-wrenching cries I was hearing all around me didn't matter.


I needed food !!! And fast.


Spotting a guard, I hit him with an 'Imperio' before he could react, ordered him to lead me to the food storage, and followed under an Invisibility Charm.


The walk to the kitchen took a short while, the guards' lack of response to others did turn some heads but nothing that a small compulsion charm didn't solve…


The kitchen and storage here aren't impressive, but what do you expect from a prison, plus they had about a month's rations so that's good.


Without waiting for anything I casted some strong compulsion charms and notice-me- not charms on the door and started devouring vegetables/ fruits first while igniting a fire with magic to cook the meat and letting magic be the chef…


Three hours and two weeks' worth of food later, I finally felt like myself again.


Ahhh, this is life.


I'll go back and rest in my cell a few more hours before I start doing anything else.


--

 

[Moonpie_99]

-


You know, I think I've fallen in love with sleep. Turning off everything and resting is a sensation that feels new to me. However, time doesn't wait for anyone—well, that's a bit of a lie—but hey, the purpose is to motivate myself.


I stand up and stretch my limbs in every direction possible, even jumping up, down, and sideways to get a conscious feel of my body and balance before moving.


As I walk out of the cell, treating it as if it were my hotel room, I leisurely pace my steps, using magic to ensure the echoes of my footsteps are heard by every being in this godforsaken prison.


My execution is set for tomorrow morning, so why not make today memorable by escaping through the front door like a boss who owns the place?


Now that I think about it, my memories of the Harry Potter story and my life as Harry Potter are two different things; the events in the story were just that—a story for kids.


Or was it really? Maybe it tells a story of a different Harry Potter? I don't know, and I don't care either.


In this life, though, unlike the story, the old me was a rebellious teenager who came from an abusive household, so he was more problematic than normal, which led to him often clashing head-to-head with Dumbledore.


Not to say that the old me was evil or anything—he was actually a kind-hearted person. He didn't wish to harm anyone; he just had problems with adults telling him what to do and with authority in general.


So, when Dumbledore got the chance to teach the old me a lesson, he seized it and shipped him off to Azkaban.


Joke's on him, though—the old me was killed by a Death Eater masquerading as a guard on the first day.


But now, the new me is going to flip the board and play a new game that'll bring the whole British Isles to its knees.


It'll be such a cliché plot of a beaten-up protagonist coming back from disgrace and beating up everyone…


I hear the sound of multiple footsteps approaching—those must be the guards—so let's greet them properly, huh?


Turning right at the end of the corridor, I am met with a barrage of different spells: Stunning Curses, Leg-Locking Charms, Petrification Charms, and even a Crucio Curse among them…


Still, I wanted to be cool like those MCs in stories—so I did the most badass thing these people would ever get to see. I waved my hand in a sweeping motion, and a force of magic swept all the incoming spells away to my left, making them hit the floor and the wall…


This, of course, garnered the intended effect in the form of a comical reaction from the guards—some looked at me in shock, others stood bewildered, and some froze in fear. Still, I could tell everyone was wondering what the hell just happened.


I'll take this opportunity to educate them—about the height of Mount Tai—I'm just kidding. But I should find some solution for the xianxia protagonist syndrome I seem to have… Anyway, that's for later. Now, I'll have to confiscate their wands first. With a flick of my hand, all the wands they had on them are forcefully summoned to me, bringing them out of their shock and back to reality.


"If anyone is wondering how I did that, I'll explain if asked nicely," I say, starting my speech before any of them gather the courage to say something foolish… But, of course, an oaf of a man speaks up anyway.


"Harry Potter!!! Give us our wands back and return to your cell, and we will forgive you…"


But of course, he didn't get to continue his speech. I shooed him away with a motion of my hand, causing him to suddenly yelp as he was hurled from where he stood and slammed against the wall, falling unconscious with a groan.


"Pardon me, gentlemen. He was starting to spout shit and make a fool of himself, so I treated him with my newly developed fool's educating method. Still, take this as an example and be more cooperative and civilized, okay?" I smiled at them, clapping my hands to continue my monologue.


"Now, as I was saying, if you have questions, I might answer them and educate you a little. That way, maybe you could be more useful in the future. Ah, who am I kidding? You people won't understand what I'm saying anyway, but let's give it a try, huh? What do you say? Come on!" I motioned for them encouragingly to start speaking. *I am such a gentleman.*


"Um, Harry Potter, sir… um, could you tell us how you did that?" one of the guards asks, who appeared to be the youngest among them, pointing at the unconscious oaf.


"Oh, you mean the magic? Like how I threw him all the way to the end of the corridor? Well, it's not that hard, really. It's a normal Knockback Jinx—but what I *really* want to brag about is my new and improved spell-deflecting technique.


You see, normal deflecting techniques are used by duelers to forcefully change the direction of a single spell at a time using their raw magic with the wand as a medium—you know that, right?


But what I did with all the spells you sent my way was nearly the same, but on a larger scale and without a wand or anything, thanks to my impressive magic control. I simply used raw magic to catch and throw the spells the other way… It sounds easy, I know, but it's really not," I patiently explain to them, only to be met with blank stares and bewildered faces…


Sigh. This is going to be boring, isn't it?


Now, some might ask why I am explaining this to them. The answer is obvious: to brag, but also to make the ones in the Ministry who will surely review their memories reconsider being enemies with me. After all, I just showed them that numbers don't mean shit to me…


"I can see the bewilderment on your faces, so let me give you some tips that might help you, okay? First tip: Stop thinking when doing magic, and just *do it*. You know the spells, you have the wand, so point and cast… But of course, none of you will follow my advice, will you? I really am trying to teach you something valuable here…"


"Anyway, gentlemen, it's clear none of you here understand the intricacies of magic, nor do you want to learn. So how about you escort me out, and I won't have to resort to uncivil means? Huh?" I smiled and said.


I really didn't want to kill them or hurt them—they're just doing their job.


One of the younger and more courageous guards raises his hand, making me stifle a laugh at his visible nervousness.


"Yes?" I respond, gesturing for him to ask his question.


"You're not going to kill us, are you?" he asks, fear evident in his eyes. He was still young, after all…


"No, no. Why would I need to kill you if you're cooperating?" I answer as I start walking toward them, making them shift slightly and back away.


"Are you not afraid the Ministry is going to hunt you down if you escape?" he asks again, this time with more composure in his voice.


"No, not at all. They won't have time for me; they'll have to focus their efforts on stopping Voldemort, which—if you ask me—is nothing but a foolish endeavor," I reply, making all of them stiffen upon hearing the name…


"But they said You-Know-Who is dead!" one of the older guards says with a slightly raised voice.


"Okay, they also said *I* killed him as a baby, and now I'm saying he's not dead," I clarify, making them look at me as if I'd said the Earth is flat…


"You're lying!!" another guard yells—I don't know what gave him the courage—only to receive a Silencing Spell from me as a reward.


"Believe what you want," I begin, "but do you really not want to know why he came after me in the first place? I'll gladly tell you if you're curious."


"I want to know!! Um… please?!" replies a slightly timid voice from a female guard staying in the back, now that we're actually walking out of this prison with them as my escorts.


"Alright, I'll explain just because you're polite enough. You see, that idiot Voldemort did some nasty dark rituals to make himself immortal. Truly the height of stupidity, if you ask me—still, he succeeded 'for the most part.' Then, instead of being smart and gradually amassing power and influence like Dumbledore did, he chose the reckless and direct path—though by that point, he was clearly already crazy and unhinged, so it's not really his fault.


So he ignited a war, which you're all aware of. But then something significant occurred: he learned of a prophecy. Now, as you all should know, prophecies are often self-fulfilling. He was aware of this fact too; however, after all the rituals he'd performed, his mind and reasoning ability were already f*ked.


He somehow became convinced he was powerful enough to circumvent fate by killing the toddler—which is me, by the way—and so, with the help of Peter Pettigrew, that idiot found his way to our home and attempted to kill me, fulfilling the first part of the prophecy: marking me as his equal—which ultimately led to his own demise.


Now that he's back to full power, though, the second part of the prophecy has activated, stating that only I can kill him," I explain slowly as we near the exit of the prison, making sure my voice reaches every single one of them…


"You may ask one more question before I go," I say, pointing at the silent old man who hadn't spoken a word until now.


"Are you going to fight You-Know-Who now that you're about to escape?" he asks.


"Hmm. No, I don't think I will—I won't be participating in this war until I get what I want. And believe me, I *will* get what I want," I reply with a menacing grin that I'm sure sent a chill down their spines, judging by their reactions…


"Now, gentlemen and lady, here are your wands," I say as I toss their wands to the ground. "Call whoever you wish. And if I may offer a piece of advice—flee the country, for none of you will be safe." And so, with a snap of my fingers, I vanish.


--


After Harry Potter disappeared in front of them with silent, smooth Apparition, a heavy silence lingered for just a few seconds before everyone scrambled to grab their wands and cast Patronuses and communication spells to spread the news of what had just transpired.


Not ten minutes later, the loud cracking sound of multiple Apparitions echoed through the air, heralding the arrival of the renowned Auror force—led by none other than the head of the DMLE, Amelia Bones, and Mad-Eye Moody.


--

 

[Moonpie_99]

Arriving at Azkaban as fast as they could, Amelia Bones and Mad-Eye Moody, accompanied by a five-man squad of Aurors, rushed toward the guards and started asking questions.


"What happened here? You all sent urgent messages saying someone escaped without any more clarification! And where in Merlin's name are the Dementors?!" Amelia asked quickly while looking around, clearly bewildered by the absence of the Dementors and—how escaping their supposedly inescapable prison is starting to look like a trend…


"Madam Bones, the Dementors started acting strangely five days ago and haven't come out of the east wing area ever since. As for the escapee, well…" The guard stopped speaking and began looking around, clearly seeking help from his companions.


This hesitant behavior caught Amelia's ire, which made her snap at him, "Well, what?" she asked—more like yelled—at him, making the guards flinch and back away a little…


"Umm, Madam Bones, the one who escaped is Harry Potter," the young guard's voice came from behind her, making her turn around and look at him with a frown. She was about to ask him more, but Moody started talking…


"Harry Potter, you say? And pray tell, how did a kid escape Azkaban?" Moody responded gruffly, a hint of mockery in his voice—his prosthetic eye freezing mid-spin to glare at the guard…


The guards exchanged uneasy glances—their breaths fogging in the prison's icy air—then the only female among them seemed to have gathered her courage and pointed at the entrance of the building.


This gesture earned a bewildered look from the newly arrived Aurors. Seeing their expressions, she cleared her throat and said in a hushed voice, as though naming a curse, "Uh, he walked through the exit, sir!"


This clearly was not the answer they expected, so the Aurors just looked at each other, seeing if they all heard what she said correctly…


The first to shake off his stupor was Moody, who asked again, his voice low, like someone who was in too much disbelief to actually raise his voice and speak normally, "So you're saying that Harry Potter escaped Azkaban by walking through the exit?"


All he received in response was a nod from every guard present, their faces pale as the prison's moonlit stones, clearly afraid…


Massaging her temples, Amelia finally couldn't take it as she could feel a headache coming, her jaw tightening as she had just stayed quiet and listened to their conversation while observing their reactions. She finally snapped at them and said, "Gather around and give us your memories, one by one… Now!"


She then looked at Moody and asked, "What do you think?"


Moody just stared at her passively, his prosthetic eye darting around wildly—fixating on shadows as if expecting Potter to materialize—clearly, he did not have an answer…


After taking the memories and waiting for the Auror team to check for magical interference or influence—and finding everything clear—they left.


Upon arriving at the Ministry, Madam Bones quickly inquired about the whereabouts of the minister, only to learn that he was in session with the Wizengamot in Trial Room 5…


She and Moody made their way toward Courtroom 5, where they forcefully entered—the heavy oak slamming against the wall like a gavel's strike—forcing the minister to halt the trial and look at them with an angered expression.


"What are you doing, Amelia? Don't you know we are having a trial here?" shouted Minister Fudge, his jowls quivering with indignation.


"Then the session is temporarily suspended because we have a very serious problem right now," Amelia raised her voice, bringing the room to sudden silence, her tone sharper than ever. "We have an Azkaban escapee—one Harry Potter escaped Azkaban about 10 to 15 minutes ago, and we have just arrived with their memories."


Then she paused, took her wand, and cast a spell on the wall, making it part away—revealing a hidden compartment thick with decades of dust—it was clear this thing had not been used as much as it should.


Moody moved his wand and cast several spells and authentication charms on what now appeared to be a modified Pensieve lodged between the parted wall, its basin carved with serpentine runes—clearly showing that the one who made it was a fan of snakes—before stepping closer to its edge and dumping the contents of one of the small glass bottles.


The Pensieve's surface shimmered slightly before it began to play the events that occurred between Harry Potter and the guards until the moment he escaped, the memory's edges flickering with static, clearly showing the fear the memory owner held.


This process continued, showing the same event from different perspectives. By the end of this, the entire room was deathly quiet—and rightfully so; they had just received a wealth of information that left them unsure of how to proceed, the air was thick enough to choke on.


"Ahem, ahem, this is irrelevant evidence," a shrill voice came from a toad-faced woman in pink sitting just below the minister's chair, her smile sugary, her eyes darting to Fudge as if looking for approval.


"Shut up, Dolores! Now is not the time for you to run that stupid mouth of yours," an angered voice came from the Wizengamot seats on the right side, belonging to one Madam Longbottom—her cane slamming the floor like a thunderclap—accompanied by a spell that magically and forcefully closed Dolores's mouth.


"What is your take on this, Madam Bones?" asked one of the Wizengamot members who sat next to Madam Longbottom, his fingers nervously tracing the Abbot family crest on his robes.


"My take on what exactly? Are you talking about the usage of wandless magic, the information about the prophecy, the information concerning the immortality of You-Know-Who"—here, a collective flinch rippled through the room—"or the subtle and direct threats thrown our way by a kid who I'll just assume to be the strongest in the British Isles as of this moment?" Madam Bones retorted, her voice a mix of mockery and anger—this kind of stupidity was one of the reasons they were in this situation in the first place…


"Well, let's first analyze the events before we can continue further," Minister Fudge's voice broke the silence that had begun to envelop the room again, his words ringing hollow, like a Galleon dropped in mud.


"The kid is powerful. He went out of prison like he owned the place, predicted that we would ask for the memories, and in doing so, revealed information we have been trying to uncover since the death of the Potters"—Moody's eye lingered on a witch in the back row—*Augusta's ally, perhaps?* he thought before continuing—"Now that I think about it, it's his way of calling all of us idiots.


He subtly and directly threatened all of us not to get in his way—and last but not least, he practically told us that this will be an all-out war," Moody said in a somewhat tense voice—he had seen wars, and they were not anything pretty—and he knew deep in his bones that this war was going to be either more brutal or have more consequences than they could handle…


"This is all your fault! You sentenced a kid to death, and now he's coming for all of us," one of the Wizengamot members on the left side yelled—though it wasn't clear who he was actually blaming—still, his voice was filled with fear, and his accusation hung like a Dementor's kiss.


This broke the heavy tension that Moody's words brought, sparking heated arguments.


"Silence!!" Minister Fudge yelled, hitting the table with his gavel, the sound echoing through the courtroom, bringing order into the tense room…


"Am I the only one who heard the kid imply that Dumbledore is a dark lord?" Madam Longbottom said, her words slicing through the room like a Gryffindor's blade, igniting yet another argument between the light and dark factions of the Wizengamot.


This debate quickly escalated. It continued with occasional random observations from the members, dragging on until Madam Longbottom yelled, "Enough!"—making the chandelier above them tremble.


"We have all seen the same thing, and I'm sure everyone has come to their own conclusions—but right now, one thing is certain: by the end of this upcoming war, there won't be as many noble houses left as there are now—just like the previous war.


The dark faction are slaves to an apparently immortal madman, the light faction is shackled to an egotistical maniac"—her gaze flicked to Dumbledore's empty seat—"and the neutral faction won't be able to remain neutral for long—need I remind you about the kid's advice to flee the country? That suggests he is either planning to turn this country into hell on earth or he knows something we don't.


So you do what you want, but I'm not making an enemy out of him," she concluded, standing up, leaving her seat, and walking out of the courtroom, her robes billowing as she walked in a way that would have made Snape proud had he been there to see it…


She paused as she reached the door, turned around to look at Madam Bones, and said, "Amelia, take my advice and don't send your Aurors to their deaths by going after him. He's not just a kid anymore"—the word "kid" dripping with irony.


Before she could return and resume her dramatic exit, a white owl flew past her and directly onto the table where Amelia was sitting…


It opened its mouth, dropped an envelope that was left unsealed, hooted, and flew away as if oblivious to the stunned expressions in the room.


Amelia, as if by instinct from working in an office for a long time, took the envelope, opened it, found the letter inside, took it out, and began reading it, her eyes narrowing with each line.


After a minute or so, she dropped the letter on the table and started massaging her temples as if doing so would make her forget what she just read—the parchment glowing faintly in her other hand, clearly charmed to make the words on it linger in memory…


"Well, a letter from Harry Potter just arrived, directly to me—now, I want you all to remember that this is the Ministry, and owls can't just get in here, but Potter somehow made his owl do it"—her thumbs tracing the unsealed envelope—"anyway, here's what it says,"


she began reading:


"Dear Madam Bones, how are you? I'm sure that by now you have learned about my escape from Azkaban—like I owned the place, if I say so myself—anyway, by the time my owl delivers this to you, I'm sure you all will just be arguing without reaching a decision, so let me do that for you.


As of tomorrow, I want my godfather, Sirius Black, exempt from all charges and declared innocent, or I'll start sending memories to the *Daily Prophet*. Tuesday's headline: 'Minister Fudge's Secret Toad Collection'—you get the idea.


I don't care what you decide about me because you can't really do anything to me anyway—try it, and I'll turn your fancy courtroom into a greenhouse, at least that way it would have been more useful.


Oh, and just in case some idiot hasn't reached this conclusion yet: we are at war. Now I'm not participating just yet; I'll let you stew a little, lose some people, and when you're desperate, that's when I'll come to cut you a deal, worse than Dumbledore's, better than Voldemort's—you can pick your poison.


Oh, and you can thank Dumbledore for this idea. He did the same thing in the previous two wars—ask Moody, he knows, and don't forget to ask him about Albania. He'll twitch. It's hilarious.


Anyhow, that's all. Ciao!"*


Amelia finished reading the letter and dropped it on the table once again.


Madam Bones had a look of contemplation on her face before reverting to her usual stoic demeanor—though her quill hand twitched, itching to draft a resignation letter…


Moody stood there—twitching slightly as he remembered the Albania incident—but also considering how to handle the situation, his eye now fixed on Dumbledore's vacant seat, wishing Dumbledore was there.


Fudge was left wondering where everything had gone wrong, his mind spiraling: *Toad collection? Albania?!*


Meanwhile, the other members of the Wizengamot were deep in thought about what to do next, their faces a mosaic of dread, ambition, and quiet awe.*


--

 

[Zerak]

A FanFiction.
Read it.
It's not like you have a better thing to do seeing as you are here…

Click to shrink...

This isn't a synopsis.

Just write a few words on what the story is on. So we can have an idea on if it's something we would be interested in. The alternative is waiting a few months and seeing if chapter 1 gets more than 200 likes. Well 60 likes given it's not in the NSFW section.

 

[Moonpie_99]

---

In Hogwarts. Inside his office, Headmaster Dumbledore sat quietly, listening to the different and bizarre sounds his trinkets were making while contemplating his most recent mistakes—just like he always does.

For starters, he had sought out Tom Riddle's Horcrux, all by himself, hoping that with him having one in hand, he could devise a ritual of sorts that might help him locate all the others—especially now that Harry Potter was dead…

In the beginning, Dumbledore had wanted to mold and shape Harry into a hero who wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice himself in the war against the Dark Lord if it meant saving people. However, as it turned out, that was for naught, as Harry Potter's stubborn and rebellious nature had left Dumbledore with no choice but to cut his losses and act on his own—and boy, was that a mistake.

Earlier this week, right after Harry was shipped to Azkaban, he traveled to the Gaunt shack to look for and retrieve the Horcrux he was sure would be there, only to somehow be blindsided by his own greed when he encountered one of the things he sought out the most since he was young—the Resurrection Stone—one of the Deathly Hallows.

Tom's Horcrux had protection set up in advance—very subtle Confundus Charm attached to the ring, still that wouldn't have been a problem for him if he hadn't been caught by the surprise of finding the Resurrection Stone.

That momentary surprise, along with his own deep-rooted desire to collect the three Deathly Hallows, had been enough to momentarily ensnare him.

Dumbledore had been cursing himself for falling into this trap all week long; despite his long life and wisdom,he was still human in the end—and that had been his undoing.

He was ensnared and touched the cursed thing, only to be struck by one of the most vicious curses he had ever seen, let alone experienced.

Who would have thought that Voldemort had protected his Horcrux—a piece of his very soul—with a curse that fed on magic and soul?

Dumbledore might have dismissed this as a foolish plan had he known about it from the beginning, but he would be lying because he would have done the exact same thing, if not more…

Voldemort had prepared thoroughly, linking his cursed protection to the shack's rune stone, and by doing so, he made it so the curse protecting his Horcrux was feeding from the magic in the stone and the souls he trapped there—which he still didn't know how he did it—instead of his own…

Now, thanks to his own hubris, he found himself afflicted by this magic- and soul-consuming curse that promised a very horrible death.

The only thing he had to show for this mistake was the Resurrection Stone, a relic that, just looking at it now, fueled his anger and frustration more.

This little mistake had just compromised over 40 years of effort and hard work, a more than 40 years of preparation for his own ascension ritual, that now with one little lapse of judgment/ one little mistake that if he couldn't solve quickly will threaten to/cost him everything.

Lost in his own thoughts and frustration, Dumbledore failed to notice the fireplace lighting up with its green flames, bringing the man known to many as "Mad-Eye" Moody.

"Cough!! Dumbledore, we have a problem," Moody fake-coughed to bring Dumbledore's attention after doing his routine of scanning the room for spells and dangers—constant vigilance…

"Ah, Moody, my friend, what brings you here?" Dumbledore, a little surprised by how he was caught off guard and how deeply he had been in his own head, asked…

"We have a problem, Dumbledore—a very big and dangerous problem." He paused a little for suspense and to get back at Dumbledore for always doing it, then continued: "Harry Potter has escaped from Azkaban," preparing to enjoy Dumbledore's reaction.

His words had the intended effects as he caught Dumbledore's surprised reaction, capturing his full attention. He started to quickly retell and describe the events that had transpired in Azkaban and the Ministry.

But before he could finish his storytelling, a falcon-shaped Patronus arrived through the walls, summoning him urgently back to the DMLE office…

So Moody had to interrupt his storytelling, stood up, took a glass vial from his innermost pocket, handed it over to Dumbledore, and said:

"It seems like I have to go… Here are the memories of what happened; you can review them on your own." And with that, he stepped into the fireplace, used the Floo powder he had with him, and disappeared in a flash of green fire.

Dumbledore, on the other hand—sitting on his chair, his face outwardly stoic—quickly stood up, walked toward one of the walls, and with a downward motion of his wand, the wall parted, summoning with it his very own Pensieve.

Quickly dumping the contents of the bottle into it, he immersed his face inside and started watching the memories…

After reviewing the memories, he realized that what he had seen made no sense.

The boy who should be very dead was alive and kicking—and to top it up, more powerful than ever.

Information that should not have been known to him or revealed to the public was now out in the open, and the reputation he had built over the years had taken a hit.

Although nothing serious had happened yet, he sensed this was just the opening act of a very tragic play—one that for once he was not the director of.

Worst of all, time for researching a solution to his curse problem was going to be cut short while dealing with this new problem—time he did not have.

He estimated that he had a period of 7–13 months before the curse claimed his life—depending on how effective his temporary solution was and how much magic he used during this period—still, that was without him engaging in anything strenuous like magical battles.

He was feeling how his magic was struggling against the curse as it consumed his strength at every moment of every day since he was infected.

If he didn't find a more permanent solution quickly, his ascension ritual would probably fail, and he wouldn't reach godhood—and that would be a problem. Just the thought of his hard work going to waste twisted his face in anger, frustration, and a little bit of despair.

Dumbledore didn't seek godhood merely for the sake of it or just to satisfy his ego—at least, not at first.

You see, after the death of his little sister 'Arianna' —an incident he knew and believed was his own fault—he began researching ways to resurrect her and bring her back to life.

Unfortunately, every method he discovered proved either incomplete, unsuitable, or downright wrong.

So, While exploring different parts of the magical world, consulting different magic books and tomes, he came across an ancient-looking grimoire written in an unknown language that took him 3 years just to decipher.

Still, his work ultimately led him to what he believed was the solution for every problem he had—for he had discovered the path toward godhood, which he believed would allow him to bring his sister back to life. After all, what can't a god do?

---

On the other side of magical Britain, the Dark Lord didn't take the news well. You see, he had been having a very nice day—sitting in a dark room in Malfoy Manor, lounging around with Nagini, while plotting and planning for his upcoming glorious conquest—until he was disturbed. And if you know the Dark Lord, then you know that he does not like being disturbed…

Said disturbance came in the form of one of his new Death Eaters planted inside the Wizengamot, barging in on him in a hurried and frantic pace. He didn't like that, so he didn't waste his precious time asking questions and just used Legilimency directly—shattering the rudimentary protections the man had without a care—and dove straight into the memories of his slave without any concern for the health of said slave…

After all, at the end of the day, he was just one slave, and Lord Voldemort had an abundance of those and could easily obtain more.

Now, though, after reviewing the memories of what happened, he was seething with anger and hatred.

He, Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, was being made a joke by the same brat he had wiped the floor with mere weeks ago.

He, the strongest Dark Lord to ever exist, couldn't perform wandless magic at the level of a fifteen-year-old child.

He, Lord Voldemort, was supposed to be the most powerful and most feared dark wizard alive—even Dumbledore feared him and had only dueled him twice in all these years.

How could a mere teenage boy be stronger than him? This had to be some play of fate to even up the playing field—yes, that's it!! But if so, then his plans had to change, and the war needed to move forward quickly before the brat gained more power.

Because now it was abundantly clear that as long as Harry Potter was alive, he would be a threat to his rule and his power—so Voldemort had better eliminate him sooner rather than later.

He waved his wand aloft and swiftly banished the slave—who was still on the ground writhing in pain while clutching his head. He couldn't even enjoy his suffering because he was in a hurry and had things to do…

"Wormtail!" he loudly called to the first slave he saw standing by the door. As he stood up—the sniveling coward known as Peter Pettigrew—came in hurriedly and kneeled before him. He was about to start talking, but Voldemort did not allow him to speak; he did not have the time…

"Wormtail, go and summon Malfoy and his wife to me, then bring Nott, Selwyn, and their ilk to me as well. I have orders for them."

Now it was time for him to accelerate his plans—to rescue/reassemble all his followers and recruit more.

It appeared he wouldn't have the time to add his artistic touches to his upcoming strategies—even then, he knew everything he did was artistic in more than one way, so that would have to suffice.

His musing was abruptly interrupted by a trembling Lucius Malfoy and a clearly terrified yet attempting to maintain a stoic demeanor, Narcissa Malfoy.

"My Lord, you have summoned us. How can we be of service?" Lucius stuttered, clearly still not fully healed from the Cruciatus Curse he had punished him with for his incompetence. But Voldemort didn't care about that…

"Lucius, the plans have changed, and I am accelerating them. Get yourself healed faster and contact all of my Death Eaters; we are going to destroy Azkaban and free my followers who are locked in there. It seems the magical world needs to be reminded of how to fear Lord Voldemort."

"Yes, my Lord. It shall be done," Malfoy replied before hurrying from the room, leaving Narcissa standing there, awaiting her orders.

"For you, Narcissa—I want you to gather all information you can get on Harry Potter and the recent events at Hogwarts through that spineless coward you call a son. And do it quickly," he instructed.

"Yes, my Lord," she replied and started walking out while clutching her fists. Oh, how amusing it was for him to see just how offended and angry she was—yet clearly helpless in front of his might that she couldn't even think of opposing his orders.

He turned his attention to his beloved Nagini, petting her and trying to relax while discussing his plans with her—what a smart snake…

---

Meanwhile, in the Ministry of Magic, inside the Minister's office, a conversation was taking place between Minister Fudge and Amelia Bones.

"Amelia, I'm sure you understand that we can't just give in to the demands of Harry Potter just because he said so," the Minister said with a frown, arguing while trying to come up with an excuse to spare himself the pressure that Malfoy would put on him if Sirius Black was exonerated—along with the political nightmare that would follow…

"Minister, we don't have a choice. You may think there's room to stall for time and devise a plan to capture Harry Potter, but there is none. You know as well as I do what he's capable of. You have seen it—and that's him now. Because as soon as he gets a wand, he'll be unstoppable.

I don't know what happened to him while in Azkaban, but my gut tells me the Harry Potter who came out of there isn't the same one who went in.

My years of experience as an Auror have taught me to recognize the signs of danger early, and I won't watch my team be sacrificed for political games," Amelia said, her fists clenched at her sides—clearly agitated and trying her best not to hex Fudge for his idiocy.

"Okay, okay. I get it. Just go do what you want to do," Fudge finally relented—after having the same argument for the last 30 minutes—he was tired, his voice heavy with resignation, the tension in his shoulders reflecting the weight of all the looming threats.

As he poured himself a drink, his hands trembled slightly—an involuntary reaction to the mounting pressure that seemed to crush him from all sides. All he could do now was drink to try and get the haunting memories of his past blunders out of his head.

While Madam Bones, after leaving Minister Fudge's office, went directly to her office to do what needed to be done.

By evening, the paperwork for the release of her ex-boyfriend was complete. Now, she was left sitting alone in her office, pondering what would become of the wizarding world now that it had a dark horse by the name of Harry Potter.

---

 

[Moonpie_99]

Arriving in Diagon Alley from outside magical Britain via Apparition is impossible, as it turned out, due to the complex security wards set up there—be it the Alley's or the shops' wards—which are interwoven together to create a brilliant but chaotic security and protection barrier.




So that means unless someone temporarily tampered with or disabled one of these wards, creating a temporary hole in the barrier, or forcefully breached the barrier with brute force, no one can Apparate right into the alley itself—a piece of information I should have known but somehow ignored because of how many stories/fanfiction about Harry Potter I have bouncing in my head at the moment.




This has been the case since I organized my mindscape, which tells me I might have made a poo-poo and messed something up…




Anyway, after a failed attempt to Apparate into Diagon Alley, in which I found myself being flung away and forcefully ejected, I quickly changed my destination; soon I found myself standing on Privet Drive.




This experience is not something I would recommend to someone who has less experience in Apparition than Voldemort or less magical control than me, because it felt like blitzing through a dark tunnel that led to a dead end and then being forcefully tossed and shoved back in a different direction into a different tunnel. This would have resulted in dismemberment of limbs if I hadn't quickly and forcefully changed the destination…




Now, I had a small issue to resolve before I could continue to think of what to do and plan for the future.




I cast quick detection spells to see if there was anyone on my ass but found nothing. I sighed in relief, decided to cast an invisibility spell on myself for good measure, and made my way to the nearby park, which had a nice big tree that I liked…




Sitting beneath its branches, I quickly entered a meditative state and journeyed into my mindscape. Arriving in the makeshift office I made—in the middle of nothingness—that is my mindscape, I quickly started reorganizing my memories in a way that put my life as Harry Potter in the forefront of my mind, followed by the memories and knowledge I got from Voldemort, and then put the rest with whatever's left in the back of my mind.




Some may wonder, "Harry, why are you doing this? What's the difference?" Well, I don't know; it's just a temporary fix until I actually research and study Occlumency more and start utilizing it correctly for more than just defense, because right now my Occlumency is 100% defense and 1% utility.




In another life, I might have erased all the memories I had of the stories from my mindscape just so that I wouldn't actually confuse the information in there with what was actually true and forget that this was real life and not a story, but that would have been stupid.




Still, now that I was already here, I decided to transfer a copy of all my memories, old and new, into my book of knowledge—which, by the way, I am calling Grimoire from now on—and have it analyze them to see what it would whip up…




My Grimoire won't be used as intended until I actually expand the knowledge and data it has by a huge margin, but that's what Hogwarts is for…




Now, with my mind clearer and me feeling better, it's time to go do something productive…




Now, with everything taken care of, it's time to get going…




My Grimoire appeared floating in front of me without me even summoning it, siphoned a little bit of my magic, vibrating slightly as it did so; soon after, the Knight Bus came to a halt right in front of me…




**Now I know for a fact it's not sentient, but…**




Before I could utter a word or go full-on investigative, the Grimoire reacted again; I found myself being dragged by the man in front of me—who handed me a ticket—as I boarded the bus, feeling a mask-like layer of magic form over my face and my body...




Ah, so this is what a disguise spell feels like.




Incredible!




Seated at the back of the bus, I did the only thing available to me at that moment: went inside my mindscape to see what I messed up now. As it turned out, I didn't mess anything up; it's just that before it appeared, my Grimoire was still in the formation stage—and still is, if what I am seeing right now is correct…




Upon arriving at the Leaky Cauldron, I went inside and felt the wards of the place registering me as a new visitor.




Hmm? I don't know why that happened but this could mean a lot of things…




I'll just have to investigate that later.




I went directly to the back and came face to face with an old man who was crossing the enchanted wall on his way out. I merely said hello and continued on my way, focused on moving toward Gringotts Wizarding Bank.




You may wonder why I was in such a hurry. Shouldn't I enjoy the sights? Well, I don't have any money, and I need to retrieve funds in order to enjoy the sights…




As I arrived in front of the building, I took a minute to admire the bizarrely constructed magical edifice.




One might be struck by its monumental marble façade, the shimmering enchantments that glow different colors in the sunlight, and the large windows featuring goblins painted on them…




The entrance is impressive too, with a silver gate adorned with dragons and goblin figures. Still, my poor description aside, this place screams wealth before you even enter.




As I neared the entrance, the two goblin guards looked at me with suspicion and vigilance. I instinctively knew why—they could sense the magic and natural energy within me as well as the disguise I was wearing.




It turned out goblin magic is embedded with concepts of desire, nature, and something I couldn't quite place yet. It felt foreign to me, so I will have to come back at a later date to study it properly.




So, without paying any more attention to them, I simply entered and walked straight toward the teller—given that I had to look up just to talk to him when I really didn't want to. My Grimoire came to my rescue and appeared in my hand, shimmering slightly as I levitated until I was eye-to-eye with the teller.




He stared at me with a scrunched face, a face best described as "a face only a mother could love."




I started explaining what I needed before he could say anything.




"I need to access my vault."




"And do you have the keys with you wizard?" the said while giving me a long growl while scrunching his face, like I just asked him to let me fuck him mother, which pissed me off a little…




I had undone my disguise before I arrived in front of him, so I knew he saw what I was wearing,




"Do I look like I have the keys on me? I'm in a prison outfit for Merlin's sake! Are you naturally this stupid, or is it just an acquired trait?" I told him Irritation crept into my voice…




Really, the way he growled at me made me want to pop his head like a balloon. I would have been respectful and talked normally if he didn't growl like that, I don't know why but it felt like a big insult to simply ignore…




"Sir, please control your magic; this is Gringotts Bank territory," another teller to my left said; his body looked tense, and his voice sounded more like a warning than a request.




I didn't like that. So, taking a deep breath, I released all my energy for about five seconds before reining it in.




In those five seconds, I saw the more powerful goblins in the back and those on the second floor flinch as they quickly stood up.




I looked at the teller who warned me and found him staring at me with horror painted on his face—wide eyes, dilated pupils, and all the telltales.




Ignoring this, I told him, "Get me a smarter goblin who can help me handle my business. My time is valuable, and I can't keep wasting it on him if he's just here to growl."




"Right this way, sir. Please follow me," he replied hurriedly, hopping down and starting to walk while showing me the way. I followed him, still levitating above the ground just to show off. I don't know why it bothered me so much that he growled at me, but it felt like he gave me the mother of all insults, and that pissed me off.




We arrived at an office-like room filled with bizarre-looking tree paintings that somehow reached beyond the ceiling.




Stepping aside, the goblin said, "Please place your hand on one of the leaves over here. It will take some of your blood to determine which vault is yours."




"I'd advise you not to play tricks with my blood, but I get the feeling that it will end up being very beneficial to me if I didn't," I said with a smile as I stepped forward and did what he asked.




After a few seconds, light began to appear along the tree branches, and the name "Harry James Potter" appeared, along with the numbers 687 and 688 in green, and the numbers 3, 6, and 8 in gray.




"Well, Mr. Potter, it appears that you have five vaults in Gringotts. Two are accessible now, and three are not," the goblin said.




"Hmm, while I find that interesting, I don't have time for it now. Just get me about 2,000 Galleons and issue me a new vault key. I'll return to solve this later," I said.




"As you wish, Mr. Potter. Come with me now to complete your transaction, and we will continue this another day," the goblin replied, walking out the door.




I followed him, and three minutes later, I was done with everything for now. Still, the commotion outside the bank didn't escape my notice. So, as I walked out of the bank, I released a burst of magic that made everyone who was crowding the place ignore me and generally forget why they were there in the first place.




With that done, I stepped outside to start my adventure and truly explore Diagon Alley. Truly, magic is an easy solution for a lot of problems…

——

 

[Moonpie_99]

Walking down Diagon Alley felt mystical somehow; —well, technically, it's my first time here so that could explain the feeling— anyway, there are so many shops I hadn't known were there before.


Like this one shop, called 'The Potion Peddler,' as the name suggests, it's a potions shop that sells rare potions and potion ingredients that don't grow in the British Isles. The shop itself looked like a Druid lives there, with all the magical trees and flowers that either **hang** from the roof or sticking to the doors and windows.


Then there's a shop called 'Curios for Curiosities,' a strange little store between 'Honeydukes' and 'Flourish and Blotts.' This shop sells and trades enchanted items, old or new, as long as the enchantment is interesting.


No, really, that's what's written on the door beside the half-broken doll hanging there, with its eyes popping out and vanishing, only to pop out again a second later.


That's one interesting enchantment…


There's also a shop called 'The Owlery,' which handles anything related to messenger magical owls, be it their treats or their treatment in case they get sick.


This reminded me to look for my owl, Hedwig.


Just as I was wondering where Hedwig could be, I caught sight of my destination: 'Ollivander's.'


Walking inside Ollivander's shop for the second time in my life—technically the first— I was surprised by the sight.


If you didn't guess it by now, I can see and feel magic and magical energy.


My mage sight had been turned off until now, but I opened it instinctively when I entered the shop, and it truly was a sight to behold. It truly cemented the idea of how beautiful magic is into my mind.


As I was fascinated by the sight, I began to walk around the shop, inspecting the wands, while the grimoire in my hand slowly emitted magic for a few seconds before settling into a soft glow that wouldn't attract much attention.


"Ah, Mr. Potter, I didn't expect you to come here again so soon," a slightly aged voice came from behind me. I had been so engrossed in the sight and wonders before me that I didn't pay attention to my surroundings…


Turning around, I saw the old man Ollivander standing there between the shelves on what appeared to be a moving ladder with eyes on each side.


Man, the magical world is weird. Who makes a ladder with eyes??


"Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander, how have you been?" I asked the old man.


"Very well, thank you Mr. Potter. Though I can't say the same for you. You seem like you have seen better days," Mr. Ollivander replied while looking me up and down, his attention clearly on my prison outfit…

"Yeah, it has been a rough week. Anyway, I'm here because I need a new wand; my old one was unfortunately broken," I told him as I returned to browse the shelves for anything interesting.


I felt something probing directly into my magic and soul, which I immediately shut down by sending a magical pulse in the form of high-frequency light that would temporarily blind someone.


"Ugh!" Ollivander groaned from behind me…


Turning back to Ollivander, I said in the coldest voice I could muster, "Please refrain from doing that again, lest I have to gouge your eyes out and make you eat them. My soul is not for the likes of you to examine. I've already had a dark parasite before, so you'll have to excuse me for being touchy about anything soul-related."


"Ugh, I apologize, Mr. Potter. I was just checking if it was really you. Your magic has a different feel to it since the last time I saw you," Ollivander said quickly while nursing his eyes and waving his wand, casting spells on them.


"Yeah, you try dying and coming back to life again, and let's see what your magic feels like then," I sarcastically said while looking at him. The spell he used was interesting, and made me glad I had my Grimoire out, because I am very sure it's already analyzing it…


"No need to be sarcastic, Mr. Potter. But I do have a question, if you wouldn't mind?" He asked while looking at me expectantly…


I gestured for him to continue with my hand, and he asked me one of the questions that I expected yet still felt somehow unexpected— talk about cognitive dissonance…


"What is it like on the other side? I mean, how does it feel, you know? Death?"


I looked at him with a puzzled look. I mean, what kind of question is that? It's not like death feels the same for everyone. Still, is it wrong that I can actually see where his curiosity is coming from…


"Well, first of all, I didn't cross into death's realm; I was only in limbo momentarily to solve my parasite situation.


If you're asking about limbo though, then all I can say is that it's just one of the realms connected to death's domain.


Wizard's limbo is a shapeless-timeless dimension that tortures the souls of those who defied death and magical laws until they are turned into nothingness—so if I were you, I'd be careful about doing that—otherwise, there's nothing to fear, really. Death is simply that—death, just like how magic is just magic, so there's nothing to fear when it comes to death. Wizards have their own place after death." I really should start controlling my urge to educate people when they ask questions.


While I was musing on my need to educate people with a soft smile on my face, Ollivander's eyes shone as if he had just had a conversation with Merlin.


He quickly came down the ladder and started walking toward the back of the shop.


Hearing footsteps coming from the back of the shop brought me out of my train of thought…


I looked at Ollivander, now covered in dirt, carrying an equally dirty box in his hands.


The way he gazed at it with obvious affection crept me out.


Man, I'll say it again: wizards are weird.

"Here you go, Mr. Potter. A 13-inch elder/ebony hybrid wand with a double core of phoenix tail feather and thestral tail hair. This is my one and only successful experiment in the subject of wand resonance and their merger. These were two different wands, Mr. Potter, and it took me 777 tries to succeed, and this is my only proof of success. I'm entirely certain that you'll achieve great things in the future," the old man said as he handed me the open wand box.


Taking the wand in my hand gave me a strange new sensation. I suddenly knew exactly how this wand was made, why it was made, what it does, and how it does it.


It felt like gaining a new connection to magic—one not entirely different from my own connection to my magic yet still not entirely the same either.


I understood now why wizards find it hard to cast spells without wands, and generally don't succeed in wandless casting; but this new bond also helped me recognize how bonds feel.


I sensed two weak bonds connected to me at the moment, so I did the only logical thing: I pumped magic into them, which did the trick.


The bonds clicked and finally fell into place, and I realized what these bonds were: they were my connection to Hedwig and my Invisibility Cloak.


I raised my head and looked at Ollivander, pondering if I should tell him that his greatest creation was the product of pure magical phenomena, now that I somehow knew how it was produced…


"Well, Mr. Ollivander, I guess I can thank you by telling you that this wand was created because of the magical phenomenon generated by your crazy persistence, a lot of coincidences, and meeting the requirements of an unknown ritual that helped you in creating it." In the end, I decided to tell him while still keeping the explanation vague; that was the best I could do at the moment.


He stayed quiet for a few seconds before he suddenly started laughing hysterically—no, seriously, he was laughing like a psychopath.


After a minute or so, he quieted down and wiped his eyes with a handkerchief.


"Thank you, Mister Potter. While I don't know why you're being vague in your explanation, it doesn't matter because you have just assured me that magical miracles do happen for those who are persistent enough… Truly, thank you." His voice was loaded with a duality of gratitude and something I couldn't quite place…


I stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before asking for the price—because frankly I didn't know what else to do— still he was being difficult and refused to tell me how much to pay saying it was free…


So, I simply dropped about 500 Galleons on his desk before leaving the shop with a final thank you…


Walking out again, I was reminded that the only clothes I had on me were my prison clothes, which were quite dirty.


I made my way toward a clothing shop named "Gladrags Wizardwear." Going inside, I dropped about 150 Galleons in front of the woman and asked her for auto-fitted wizard attire with self-cleaning, self-ironing and auto-size enchantments.


Four minutes later, I walked out of the store finally looking like a proper wizard for once.


Now, how do I get Hedwig to come to me? Just as I was asking myself this, my grimoire glowed again, siphoning some magic.


I was about to open it to check what it did, but I was distracted by a popping sound on my side. I turned my head and was greeted by the confused hooting of one snowy white owl named Hedwig.


"I'm so glad to see you, Hedwig," I said as my voice cracked a little, a few tears clouding my eyes.


Hedwig replied with a loud hoot and an angry nip on my ear before she quickly switched and hooted in a pleased manner after my quick apology for leaving her.


Still, even with all that, it was clear Hedwig had been living in the wild, if her unclean appearance is anything to go by…


I started walking again, with Hedwig now perched on my shoulder, clean and shiny.


We continued talking—yes, our bond allowed us to understand each other—with me asking her about her adventures for a while, before I came up with the idea of writing a letter to the Ministry and having her deliver it.


This is going to be fun.

———

 

[Moonpie_99]

Sitting on the bed in a room I rented at the Leaky Cauldron—Grimoire placed on my lap—I was reading the new things my grimoire copied while I toured Diagon Alley…

Of course, I knew my Grimoire could copy knowledge; I created it, and what it does is not really complicated. It just sends a pulse of magic to scan, copy, paste, and then it starts to compile and analyze said knowledge…


What I still don't know, though, is how strong it could become? How much magic can I store inside it? How much would it evolve? But I guess that's for future me to discover, huh? Right now, I just need to deepen my magic knowledge and spell repertoire…

~Hoot~ ~Hoot~

My reading time was disturbed when I heard the sound of Hedwig hooting—signaling her return. I raised my head and looked at her coming through the window, gliding through the air, and with graceful ease, she perched herself on my shoulder.


I quickly used a summoning charm on the bacon leftover on the table and handed it to her, making her shake her feathers a little, clearly pleased by my offering…


She looked a little different now; she looked slimmer, more magical. Her eyes now had a glowing greenish hue, and her white feathers looked even whiter, as if they emit light.


If you're wondering how these changes occurred, the answer is simple: in a moment of impulse, I sent a little bit of natural energy through our bond connection to see what would happen.


I didn't know if it would be harmful or not, but my instinct told me it would be fine, so I did it… and that was the result…


You see, after I got the idea of messing with the ministry more, I hurriedly wrote a letter to Amelia Bones and sent it with Hedwig. Only after she flew with the letter did I start to actually think and study what natural energy did to her…


After a short while of studying and experimenting, I started to understand that giving in to my impulse could have gone horribly wrong…


You see, infusing natural energy into magical creatures is not recommended, and doing so is highly dangerous for any magical creature because, unlike wizards, they are strongly attuned to nature and generally embody the essence of their magic.


I found that out thanks to the heroic sacrifice of 3 gnomes and 2 snakes that I won't bother to explain how I got my hands on, so quickly ~**cough**~ stole them ~**cough**~


Anyway, it turned out I was lucky that Hedwig already had an affinity for nature, and my connection with her helped smooth out the sudden natural energy infusion, which in turn helped her magic gain a minor aspect of nature. Still, her changes clearly aren't complete yet, because when she left, she only had the green glow around her eyes…


Now, don't get the wrong idea about magic just because you heard the word aspects.


You see, magic is simply magic. It's a facet of creation, but that's all the insight I have into its true nature so far.


Aspects, on the other hand, define the type of magic a magical being can use, whether human, animal, or even alien. If they are magical in some way, their magic must contain some kind of aspect.


For a magical being whose magic has a neutral aspect—the most common type—they can gain aspects for anything if they're willing to pay the price—which can be anything…


Affinity—like talent—greatly assists in acquiring a magical aspect, and that's what happened with my dear Hedwig.


Wizard magic, for example, has some remarkable aspects, but that also limits a wizard's ability to gain more aspects, regardless of the affinity a wizard may possess, and let's not forget that wizard magic is very talent-centric…


Still, that isn't really a problem because wizards and witches can easily bypass the need for aspects when casting spells—they just slap them on the spell if need be at the cost of emotions or more magical energy…


My case, though, turned out to be special…


I rolled my eyes when I realized this: my magic isn't strictly wizard magic—thanks to my null energy and my new core—which means I can gain any aspect I desire, as long as I'm willing to work for it, but at the cost of high proficiency.


In gaming terms, I can't gain a new aspect unless I have at least 75% proficiency in using the previous one…


Still, that isn't really a problem as this situation presents me with both pros and cons.


The pros? If I live long enough, I could very well collect most aspects and discover the true nature of magic while exploring different kinds of magic.


The cons? I must possess deep knowledge and at least 75% control of any magical aspect before I can assimilate a new one and start with it from the bottom again.


Ugh, this is giving me a headache. I'll focus on mastering my wizard magical aspects and try to raise my control to 100% first.

If I can't even manage that, despite my advantages, then I'm a true failure as an archmage.


Now then, let's return to the most interesting thing I discovered: my sage skill.


Being a sage is fascinating. I found out that being a natural-born sage meant that I was the son of nature; I will always subconsciously purify natural energy around me…

Doing so consciously is a little bit harder, but also much more rewarding.


What rewards, you may ask? Well, for example, I will always be protected by nature.


This means no one can use my blood to track, curse, or do anything harmful to me. If you want to curse me, you have to do it in front of me and not behind my back.


If you want to know how that feels, it's like what I imagined sitting in my mother's embrace when I was a kid felt like—warm and protective.


It feels great!


Anyway, that was all I could find out about my sagehood for the time being, and now I need to start planning for what's coming, which starts by studying magic to the best of my ability so that I can free myself from the debt I owe to fate and magic.


Being in their debt feels stifling, so, let's get started.


First things first: I need to get to Hogwarts to begin studying, training, and copying all the knowledge available there.


I have already copied every book containing basic magical knowledge from bookstores here, and my grimoire is doing its analysis on them now. That also means my grimoire is constantly feeding on my mental and magical energy, which in my opinion is a good way to train both.


Anyway, now, let's start by calling Dobby first…


"Dobby, come here; I need you," I called out, and a wave of magic escaped me while doing so…


Aha!! So that's what happens when you call a house-elf, but why??…


A moment later, a house-elf appeared, stopping me from going into my head with theories by clinging to my leg, saying,

"Harry Potter, sir, is okay! Dobby tried, sir! Dobby did everything he could to get Harry Potter, sir, out of Azkaban, but Dumbledore used his right as Hogwarts Master to order Dobby not to.


Dobby even quit his job and ran away from 'Hogwarts' to find a different way, but Dobby couldn't, sir!!"


"Please forgive Dobby, Harry Potter, sir; Dobby has been punishing himself for days now,"


I looked at the house-elf in front of me with different emotions; he didn't look good. He was injured all over his body and looked like he would keel over any second now…


Still, from his rambling, I learned a few things, like the fact that he was preparing to break me out of Azkaban like a ninja—his words, not mine—but the headmaster found out and forbade him from doing so, which made him quit his job and try to find another way…


"Okay, okay, Dobby, enough! Stop crying; I understand…


Thank you for trying, Dobby; that's more than I can say about anyone else. You're a friend, Dobby, so don't worry about it and stop punishing yourself," I told him while stressing the last part… he really is loyal, huh…


"Now then, Dobby, first thing first, how would you like to work for me?" I asked the now attentive house-elf, which made him squeal in delight…


This was followed by negotiating the price of his work with me upping the price and him lowering it; it was such a funny sight that made me feel peaceful,if only for a moment…


"Ok, now that we have finished our negotiations, and with you being my employee, I have a mission that requires your ninja expertise." I spoke while trying very hard to hold back from laughing; my humorous tone went over his head, though.


"I need you to get me into Hogwarts, but first, you have to make sure that Dumbledore isn't there. Then you can take me to the seventh floor; I need access to a room there."


"Yes, sir!! Harry Potter, sir!!" The house-elf saluted and then continued excitedly, "Dobby knows sir! Dobby knows the room, Sir Harry Potter! Dobby can do this!"

"Well then, special agent ninja Dobby, I'll leave this to you." I gave him a salute in return, which he copied with a grin on his wrinkled, excited face before he popped away.

Now, all I have to do is meditate here while waiting for Dobby to come back.


The Room of Requirement is going to be a very nice place to stay in for a while. Now, is it truly magical, as the stories said? I don't know—not even Tom Riddle knew; he only found the Room of Hidden Things in his last semester at Hogwarts—still, it wouldn't hurt to find out.


Anyhow, let's start meditating~


Meditation for a sage—as I found out—is a very sacred and intimate process.


I had to first use my own natural energy to slowly scrub away, purify and eliminate the corruption, curses, and everything in between that has been clinging to the planet and by extension the planet.


You see, the planet itself produces and absorbs energy simultaneously. Said planet is riddled with so much corruption and so many problems that are now my problems…


Really, what kind of child leaves his sick mother to fend for herself…


So while trying to tally how many problems the planet had, it wasn't strange when I found out that the planet's core is being siphoned by—what the planet called—an egg of a celestial. And yes, I can somehow talk to the planet—get over it.


Now, I still don't know what a celestial actually is, but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough because even the half stories I have about this multiverse only said that celestials are very powerful beings…


Still, when I first saw what the egg was doing, my immediate thought was to make the planet devour it, but it refused as soon as I relayed the thought…


This brings me to my current predicament: what can I do to siphon this egg's energy and use it in a way that heals the planet and makes it stronger in the process? A small mistake here could lead to disastrous consequences, so I'll have to look into this more thoroughly before devising a solution…


Problems just pop up out of nowhere, and now I need to make a new plan. Because if I succeed, I could potentially hold the key to evolving everything on the planet, and that's never a good thing—especially with humans.


No, I have to find a different method or refine the current idea in a more subtle way.


Ugh, I'll just think about this later.


First, I need to heal the planet and clean at least 40% of the corruption as soon as possible to give the planet a fighting chance…


After that, it will get harder, and I'll have to go all over the planet to heal what's left.


The first 40% is manageable because the planet itself is helping me by guiding the corruption toward me so I can purge and purify it, but after that, it's going to require more localized treatment—if you will.


I woke up from my meditation to the sound of Apparition: Dobby has arrived.


"Harry Potter, sir, Dumbledore is not in Hogwarts, sir. I can take you to the room now, sir," he said while saluting. I really want to know where he learns these things.


"Understood, Agent Dobby. Let's get going," I replied, trying very hard not to laugh at his character—I mean, if he's having fun and I am having fun, what's the problem.

———