This fic is basically porn with plot. Though, it may just end up being plot with porn. I still have no real idea which way I am going to swing it. May just be equal plot with porn, who knows. Definitely going to be a lot of sex though. Powerful Harry, almost OP Harry is a definite. Will almost certainly become OP like Dumbledore and Voldemort later on though. Practically Godlike at that point since there is probably no one that could stop either of those two in their prime besides the other and a few rare people.
Ancestral Discovery
"The third champion has been chosen! Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts!" Everyone cheered for the Hufflepuff student, the Hufflepuffs being the loudest of course. Harry clapped politely, not really knowing the person all that well.
"Now then, since that is over, let us commenc-" The fire in the Goblet lit up once more, silencing everyone. A single piece of paper came out, and Harry just knew that things weren't going to be so good.
"How did his name appear in the Goblet?! I thought you said the tournament would be safe from cheating Dumbledore!" Karkaroff looked just as angry as everyone else in the room. Harry just stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do.
"Calm yourself Karkaroff, I already questioned the boy. Harry claims that he didn't put his name into the Goblet, and whether it is true or not, he must participate in the events." Dumbledore looked just as calm as ever, a switch from the frantic questions he had bombarded Harry with just moments prior.
"I think this is quite unfair. You have two champions now, which means that you have a better chance of earning prestige!" The half giant Maxime looked quite intimidating honestly. He decided to join the conversation.
"Cedric was chosen as the Hogwarts Champion. I can just represent myself." He was a bit embarrassed to admit that his voice had cracked a bit towards the end there.
The heated gazes on him made his heart beat fast. It felt like fire was coursing through his veins from the embarrassment and shame. He always has to do something that made him the center of attention, even when it wasn't caused by him.
"While a nice idea, it does not change that fact that you are affiliated with Hogwarts, and thus you represent them, even if distantly." The half giant looked like she was calming down, which was good for Harry's anxiousness.
"Bah! You're all fools! Can't you see! The boy didn't enter himself! People have been trying to kill him since he was a wee lad. This is obviously an attempt at his life!" Moody seemed twitchy, his eye rolling all around.
He was thankful for the support, but knew it wouldn't help. The opposite really. The moment anyway ever tried to help him, everything usually got all the worse for it.
"Hah. I'm sure that's what's going on. Not like Potter has been doing stupid stunts since his first year to get attention. The boy clearly entered himself." The sneer that Snape sent him actually helped calm him down amidst the renewed stares.
That sneer was like a lifeline. A familiar scorn that no longer really bothered him too much. At least Snape's hatred was familiar. Something he was used to.
"Are you trying to claim that Harry could have bypassed Dumbledore's age line?! Don't be ridiculou-" As his heat rate calmed down, the ensuing argument faded from his attention. He just wanted a halloween where nothing happened.
One Day Later
"I just don't know what to do Sirius. This tournament has a reputation for killing its participants off." He sat on his bed, making sure that the curtains around it were spelled silent.
He fidgeted on his bed, not feeling all that well. Though it had only been a day, it had already been rough. Ron had called him out for always stealing the attention, whether it was on purpose or not.
The red head was a super loyal person most of the time. Not when his jealousy got the best of him though. Hermione was the surprise though. He really hadn't expected her not to support him.
She was a neutral figure at the moment, not wanting to anger either him or Ron by siding with one or the other. Just the fact that she had decided to be neutral was enough to anger him though.
He had been through a lot with his friends, but they also put him through almost as much stuff as they got him out of. He vaguely wondered whether he was best off without either of them when Sirius called out from the mirror.
"Don't worry kiddo. I heard all about it from Dumbledore yesterday when he floo called me. I already sent some things over regarding it. Getting books about the rules and so on wasn't very hard.
Make sure you really study up though Harry. You have to use every single moment you can to get better. I skimmed through the rules already. You don't have to attend classes anymore, so I suggest you don't.
You aren't allowed to use dark magic over class 2, but since you don't really know any dark magic, I doubt that matters. You aren't allowed to carry anything on your person besides your wand, nor can you wear any special clothing.
You can take supplementary potions, but nothing over grade 1. Killing other competitors is allowed though, legal too. Just no unforgivables if you're gonna do it though, you'll still get sent to Azkaban for doing that."
He deadpanned at Sirius' cheeky statement, inwardly analyzing everything he said. He indeed did not know what classes dark magic were separated into. He knew about the grades of potions though. Basically, it meant the strength and potency of the potion.
Any potion would be allowed as long as it was at its weakest strength. Definitely useful to know. Couldn't use any against opponents though, since you they were meant to be taken by you, not others.
"Are those the most important rules?" He felt his hand itch at the thought of his fellow Champions trying to take him out. He would have to learn more combat spells.
"Nope. The most important rule is the one that will benefit you the most!" Sirius grinned at him, not bothering to say what it was at all. He could already feel his eye twitching.
"And that rule is…?"
"The reason you have to be 17 to enter the tournament is because you have to be at an age of majority, which is 17 in the wizarding world. Entering this tournament means you have to be legally emancipated.
Because the Goblet is one of the greatest magical artifacts, it's word is law in this case. The rules state you have to be emancipated to enter, and because you were entered despite not being emancipated, you now are.
This means you have a lot more freedom now. You can take your place as the Head of House Potter, though you can't claim your title as Marquess just yet, nor your title as a Lord of the Wizengamot.
Since you are now legally an adult, you can go get the trace on your wand removed, meaning you can do magic outside of high populated areas without getting caught. It also means that Dumbledore is no longer your legal guardian, but I would let him act that way anyway."
Sirius was still staunchly loyal to Dumbledore, but to be fair, he had quite a bit of faith in the older wizard himself. Not regarding to his individual circumstance, since Dumbledore hadn't done that good by him, but in general.
"Does that mean I can enter the actual Potter treasury now, instead of the trust vault?" The trust vault itself held a thousand galleons a year inside it, used for Hogwarts and whatever else he needed.
He had almost never spent all of it, most of the time not even getting halfway there. The main vault held everything inside of it though. Everything that wasn't inside of homes or anything like that.
"Yeah, you can. Unfortunately, you won't find much involving spells and the like in there. Almost all of it had been inside of the Potter Manor before it was burned down. James always felt bad that he let his parents home get destroyed not long after they died to disease.
There are still a few books in there, but most of them are journals or story books that were collected over time. All the Potter property was sold by James besides his home, but that was destroyed. You're pretty much left with the money and a smattering of books."
"Why did he sell the property? Was Voldemort going after it or something?" It would make sense to cut your losses in that case.
"No, the Order needed money desperately during that time. James refused to use the money in the Potter vault, not wanting to disrespect his ancestors by using up all the money they fought hard to get. He ended up using all of his and Lily's money though, as well as the properties.
He was pretty beat up about selling them, but figured that it was better than taking money out a vault that had money poured into it for hundreds or thousands of years. Property comes and goes you know?"
Sirius sounded wistful, clearly remembering the days of the war. He was thankful to hear that he wouldn't have to worry about going broke too soon. He didn't want to rush to find a job.
"The Order was what you guys called yourselves when you fought Voldemort right?"
"Yep! The Order of the Phoenix." The smug grin on his face looked ridiculous, enough to get a laugh from Harry,
"How much money did you guys need in that fight?" It sounded like everyone ended up pouring everything into it, and they had been losing!
"Everything it could get. I went broke, since I couldn't access anything but my own vaults. Numerous people went broke, while the Death Eaters thrived. They had so much money that it didn't matter how much they spent.
It was hard honestly, watching as people starved themselves to conserve money. I never really realised how much it could mean until that time. Ya always got to treat it carefully." Sirius nodded slowly with his eyes closed, an exaggerated wisdom permeating the air around him.
They talked for a little bit longer, but Harry was beginning to get hungry. They ended the mirror call after they talked about what was needed to set him up. He needed to go to the bank and prove his authenticity as Head of House.
'Something to do after food, I guess.'
"Next!" The high pitched, yet gravelly, voice bellowed out into the confines of the room. Harry felt his glasses slide down his nose from the nervous sweat covering his face.
He tried to confidently walk out to the desk, but ended up looking pretty awkward. Thankfully, his long hair covered up his scar enough to hide his identity.
"State your reason." The cold eyes of the Goblin pierced through him, making his fingers twitch.
He had stepped into the line concerning matters of the House. He wasn't really sure what he needed to say, but knew he needed to be quick. He had snuck out of Hogwarts after all.
"I'm here concerning my position as Head of my House. I desire to take that position up." He spoke as clearly as he could, no matter how awkward it might sound. He really had to work on his confidence around people.
"Hn. Step to the left." He did as told, not complaining about the vague and unhelpful words. He didn't really feel confident to say anything while in front of a huge line.
He ended up waiting almost 20 minutes awkwardly standing to the left of the table before another Goblin fetched him. He didn't say any words, merely waved his hand to indicate that he should follow him.
After some confusing twists and turns, they made it to a room. It looked tiny on the outside, but huge on the inside. It was adorned with several baubles and gold coins, showing off wealth.
"Ngh. Take a seat wizard." The voice of the Goblin now sitting across from his was deep and gruff. Intimidating. He wordlessly took his seat.
"Now. You wish to take the position as the Head of your House. Just know that since you are not being referred by an existing Head, you will have to take a small blood test, as well as a binding ritual. These will cost a galleon together."
The Goblin paused, making sure that Harry understood and was okay with all of that. He didn't really know what all of that meant, but didn't really care to say anything about it.
"Hm, state the House that you wish to claim Headship for." He stood up and wandered over to a box, with the words, 'Wizard Houses', written with bold letters.
"House Potter." The Goblin paused, looking back at him. He felt the sweat on his forehead increase under that penetrating stare. He straightened his back this time though, determined to get used to figures like this.
"The main family of the Potter House consists of Harry James Potter. A branch member can't claim ownership to the Head of House until his death. Harry James Potter is 14 years old, and thus can't claim ownership."
Harry shifted his hair away from his scar, making sure he knew he wasn't a 'branch member', whatever that was.
"Again, Harry James Potter is not at the age of majority, and thus cannot claim ownership of his House." The Goblin almost seemed irritated, but his face was blank.
"I was just included in the Triwizard tournament yesterday, which means I got emancipated." He kept his words short, focusing on not stuttering.
"Hmm." He said nothing, moving over to another box, labelled 'Majority'. He stuck his hand in and came out with a piece of rolled up parchment. He looked at it briefly before nodding. He then moved back over to the box of houses.
He stuck both hands inside of the box, and came up with a bowl, parchment paper and a knife. He quickly made his way back over to the desk, assorting his items neatly.
"Now, I'll explain these items quickly. This parchment is your families 'line'. By testing your blood against it, we can ensure that you are who you say you are. We also ensure that your are actually eligible to take up your position as Head of House.
The bowl is where the ring that demotes your leadership lies. Once you die or give up your headship, the ring will return back into the bowl. The ring doesn't have any special magic besides that. It is almost not even real, it's existence merely to prove your position.
The knife is a special knife, designed to heal and restore whatever blood is lost from the cuts. We will be needing quite a bit of blood after all."
He didn't seem patient after all of that, and quickly held out his hand. Harry hesitantly placed his arm in it, wincing as he was wrenched over the paper. The Goblin quickly took his knife, slashing his wrist before he could react.
He flinched for but a second, the pain fading just as quickly as it came. The blood dripped over the paper, glowing for a moment. It quickly soaked into the paper, transforming into his name, the color of gold.
"Hm, you are who you say you are, and the gold color means that you are eligible for headship."
He quickly moved the paper away, still holding his arm in a vice grip. He slid the bowl under his arm and made a much larger gash this time. Harry clenched his fist and grit his teeth. The cut was much more intense than the other one.
It lasted several moments before the cut closed and he felt okay again. He looked down at the bowl and saw it filled to the brim with his blood. It made him feel slightly sick honestly.
"Put your left hand in the bowl." The Goblin finally let go of his arm, content to sit and watch now. With a bit of hesitance, Harry did as he demanded.
He watched as his fingers slowly submerged inside of his own life giving liquid. It was warm for a moment, but once he got his wrist in, it went ice cold. The blood glew and shifted color from its dark red.
It turned black and white, before it slowly started to drain. It swirled around his hands, making him shiver at the cold caresses. It leisurely crawled around his fingers, condensing into a single form.
White with black runic designs all around it, sitting prettily on his ring finger. It felt cold, like a constant reminder of responsibility.
"There. You're now the Head of your House. Congratulations." The words were dry, but they didn't ring hollowly. Warmth pooled in his belly, ready to represent his House in its whole.
It felt damp and cold as he stepped inside the main Potter vault. It contrasted sharply to the intense heat that spread through his body, his excitement untameable.
He had gone through paperwork after paperwork. Making sure he knew all the holdings of the Potter House. He wasn't surprised that there were no other Potters alive, though Potter blood was spread through other lines as well, merely incredibly diluted.
He had about 21 million pounds if he included artifacts and objects in the vault, but only had about 11 million in pure coins. It hadn't sounded so impressive when it was said, as he didn't really know the conversion rate, but the piles looked amazing.
Looking at the gold, silver and copper gleaming every way he looked gave him a heady feeling. He wasn't the richest family, not even close. He was rich though. Veerrryyy rich.
There were paintings, goblets, vases, pottery, swords, etc. all laying around amidst piles of gold. The lack of books disappointed him slightly, but he had remembered Sirius claiming most of them were destroyed, so it was lessened.
That didn't mean he found none however. There were a few books here and there, some buried under gold. He had made a habit of shifting all the gold around to check for things underneath, which paid off several times.
He had found gems, weapons, books and even wands. The books were simply journals, mixed with stories. Some of the journals portrayed several interesting spells, but they all seemed wrong compared to what he had been taught. Some of them he just couldn't even read.
He had been shifting his 36th pile of gold around, when he spotted dark leather. He quickly shoveled the gold away from what looked like a huge journal, displaying a deep black, flawless leather cover.
He lifted the book up, feeling a jolt as his fingers touched it. He tensed in panic as bright blue runic looking designs exploded into existence, moving all around the book and his arms.
"Gah! What the bloody hell!" He frantically shook his hand, desperate to get the possibly dangerous book away from him, to no avail.
Eventually, he simply stopped struggling, noting that nothing was happening to him. He felt his head briefly itch, before deciding to take a closer look at the journal. It was large, owing to the fact that it was not one, but two journals.
They looked like they were magically fused together, but they were seperated by leather coverings, indicating where one ended and the other began. He watched as the blue runes faded, slowly receding into the journal.
'A closer look couldn't hurt right?' He slowly reached for the leather covering, no longer feeling the slight static as he touched it. He tentatively flipped it open, his pale skinny hands trembling as he did so.
Hello there, descendent of mine.
If you are not a descendent of mine, I must congratulate you for getting through the runes and enchantments without destroying the journal. My 71st and 34th wife were incredibly good at those.
Well, forgoing the possibility of this being stolen, welcome. My name is Brinley Potter. This book is a legacy of my magic. The magic of the first potter. Not the magic associated with pottery, no. That is located within the grimoire.
This is a more special type of magic. You may have noticed the sheer number of my wives. It extends well beyond 71, let me tell you that. My first wife is my only wife eligible to pass on my heirs however, for the others are merely holes I use to satisfy myself.
My magic is sex. Everything pertaining to sex. I am not talented, nor am I magically powerful. I am addicted to sex though, and addiction can make even the most pathetic man a master.
My magic focuses mostly around mental magic. There are two known mental magics to my knowledge, though there may be more in the time you are reading this. This may not even be special by the time you are reading this.
Offensive and defensive mental magic. One used to invade and violate another's mind, one used to defend and better your own. I was never good at either, only ever succeeding at the basics. The basics, however, were far more valuable than I suspect anyone ever imagined.
I was born to an old magic family. Their name still burns in my heart even now, so I shall not even dare write it. I was born strong, handsome. I had amazing genes, wealth beyond mosts imagination.
I was weak magically though. Incredibly weak. With Merlin up and coming, born from a magical beast and a muggle woman, I was a disgrace. To not even measure up to a halfblood, no matter how impossibly strong he was made me a blight in their eyes.
On my 15th year of life, I set out. I didn't desire to live under the disapproving stares, the controlling hands. Telling me what to do, where to go, what to be. I desired freedom. And I got it.
It was hell, the first few years. I knew not how to survive all alone, nothing but the clothes on my back, a bow and arrow and faulty magic. Eventually though, I settled into life as a person who made pottery.
It was how I came up with my last name actually. My haste to shed my old one for a new one causing me to be a bit hasty in making it up. It's not the worst name I suppose, but nothing I wanted to be stuck with honestly.
I was a potter though. My wares were made magically, getting better and better as I aged. My love life suffered though. No one wanted to be with me. I had no money, all of it spent on making more pottery in an endless cycle of mediocrity.
I had stolen a few books from my old house before I left though. Amongst these books, came my divine savior. Mental Magic. It doesn't sound so impressive at first glance, but reading through it quickly dissuades that thought.
The ability to build defenses in your mind, control your emotion, gain better memory. Feel others emotions, read surface thoughts. These were all merely the basics. I didn't have any books on anything higher at the time, thankfully.
I stumbled my way through learning them both, taking years just to do it. I made a mistake though. While reading someone's emotions, I accidently pulled my magic inwards at the same time.
That was my first encounter with manipulating emotions and feelings. I found that examine others emotions, even very tinily, manipulate them. I imagined the emotions and feelings as campfires.
I found I could take logs from other emotions and put them into another. It took me years to figure out how to create logs, but the former was enough.
I slowly learned how to seduce women. I would spend months manipulating them. Dulling their sense to everything but me. Making them addicting to the thought, the sound, the taste of me.
I only struggled to improve myself upon meeting with a woman that had mental shields. Thankfully, the low level mental magics I could wield were not strong enough to trigger her defenses.
She was beautiful though and I wanted her. She was my first actual wife, and the eventual bearer of my line. I crafted my art to perfection, learning countless sex magic along the way. There was none I could not seduce.
None I could not tempt into taking a bite. The rest of my sex magic was what forever trapped them in my net. Young, old, single, married, nobles. It mattered not. Not even Guinevere herself was exempt from this.
Fucking the wife of Arthur Pendragon was a massive achievement before Lancelot did it as well. It's not fun when someone else can do something you thought only you could.
It went on and on and on about his life and his achievements. Halfway through flipping the pages was where he found all the magic though. He hesitated to continue reading thoroughly, but recalled that there was a Goblin waiting outside. He decided to flip to the second journal.
Interestingly enough, once he opened it, he came upon warning. It was filled with frantic writing, looking almost angry.
Warning! Do not let relatives or anyone else read these books unless you are dead!
This is an addon to my original journal. Nothing is changed in there, but I felt this had to be stressed in case you were like me. The components of the first journal are what will most likely get you into trouble, but the second one may as well.
I felt bad for my son, seeing myself in him. I then created my journal and showed him both. The end result was my own son stealing my wife from me and impregnating his sisters. I advise you strongly to never show this to another person unless you are on the verge of death.
Killing your own children and wife is not something I wish anyone would do. I hope these journals and this warning will help you. I am going to go kill myself now.
He stared at the morbid words for a few moments, not really sure if he should continue anymore. The act of manipulating someone's emotions and feelings to make them yours kind of unsettled him. Something inside of him made him turn the page anyway.
Hello there, descendent of mine.
See what I did there? Anyway, you might not even be my descendent, but you sort of will I guess. I do have a brother and sister after all, as well as a ton of half siblings. Following my ancestor up there, my name is Lyre Potter.
Most people in my childhood had different names for me though. Runt. Bones. Shorty. All of that and more was what drove me to my ultimate goal. I was the runt of the litter. Not magically like our ancestor, but physically.
My magic was strong, but my body was weak. It held me back. Held me back from the recognition I rightfully deserved. Becoming a grandmaster in potions as well as master in transfiguration is something to be lauded.
Instead, I was ignored. Twenty two years old, achieving things that took others to their hundreds. Yet I was weak. Short, barely reaching the chest of others. Skinny, containing no meat on my bones, no matter how much I ate.
Most of all was my penis. Potters were renowned as virile, people shielding their wives and husbands as they walked past. Not me though. Once the first woman I had laid with had talked to other people, I was ruined.
Thus, I set out to use my skills to change this. The determination was heralded from the very journal I grafted this one onto. I did not use any of the magics detailed in the book, besides some of the sex magic ones.
Instead, I sought to make my body something irresistible. Not the mind, but the body. In that pursuit, I turned towards the Greeks. Their Gods were renowned for their fertility, for their stamina, their sex drive, their bodies.
They were everything I desired to be. I cared not for magic, since it had yielded nothing for me alone. I carved the images into my mind. Powerful, lithe, defined. Tall, broad, encompassing. Tales of their orgies, the pleasure they granted to people drove me.
Combining my skills in potions with transfiguration, I created a way to gain the perfect body. I further refined it as life went on, settling down with a single woman after a few years of fun.
Four months. That was all it would take once I created its final form. A potion, images, and runes pertaining to transfiguration. Since I am mostly making this for my son, who is not good in those subjects, this will be childsplay.
You merely make the potion, drop the images that this book contains, and past the paper all around it. With four months of intensive exercise and a ton of food, which will be listed, you will gain the body of a god.
Alongside this, comes the fertility. The fertility part of this is one of the most important. It is incredibly hard for seed to catch in the belly of a witch. This potion will tear that image asunder, so be careful.
Even a single sliver of seed will impregnate your partner. My wife and our 31 children will attest to that. Combined with the mental manipulation, I doubt anything will be able to resist you.
The journal contained incredibly detailed info about specific exercises, as well as the results of the potion. He didn't want to go any farther at the moment, not really sure what he thought about what he had read.
He was not well physically. He was short, skinny and malnourished, his eyesight was shit. He was weak and slow when it came to physical activities. He was magically powerful, but he always felt awkward when people could see his body.
He thanked his large clothes for hiding that most of the time, before getting anxious about someone seeing him. He hated living that way and the thought of gaining the body of a god in just four months was tempting.
The first journal though… he wasn't sure how to feel about it. It was dark, darker than most things he had read about. Murder and rape were one thing, but mentally manipulating someone, shaping their minds to your whim. That was like super rape or something.
And yet the thought was appealing. Amidst the constant abandonments that he suffered from people that claimed to adore him, from friends, the thought didn't unnerve him all that much.
He walked towards the exit of the vault, ready to leave. He made sure the journal was secured in his bag first though.
Powdered Root of Asphodel
Powdered Graphorn Horn
Powdered Horn of Bicorn
Bundimun Secretion
Leaping Toadstool
Chizpurfle Fang
Dittany
Dragon Blood
Harry sat in his bed, curtains drawn. The list of potion ingredients wasn't the longest he had seen, but he knew they could be quite expensive to buy. The amounts and way to prepare them were all listed on the paper, so he made a note to place an order for pickup.
He would have to send Hedwig out to inform the shopkeepers to prepare his needed ingredients. He was sure he could start working on the potion in a day. It would only take 3 days to make, which meant he would have 20 days before the first task to begin training up his body.
'In the meantime though…' Harry tried to resist for a moment, his dark eyebrows scrunching up in shame, but failed. He shakily raked his bony fingers through his dark messy hair, steeling himself.
He turned the book back towards the first journal, and began learning its secrets. Mental magics that could let him control his emotions sounded like a must. Just because he was learning that didn't mean he had to learn the rest. Maybe.
Three Days Later
"Two swirls counterclockwise, three dips and done!" He had snuck out bright and early three days prior, eager to start on his potion. His other studies were getting along just as good as the potion was.
He had been weirded out by all the pictures he had to put in at first. It had been cool watching as they regrew when he ripped them, but the pictures themselves were slightly odd. There was dozens of diagrams for every muscle.
Diagrams of eyes, of hair, everything. Hundreds for the penis and balls though. He knew the potion wouldn't change how he looked, but merely enhance it to the greatest degree as shown in the diagrams, but it was slightly unnerving to see everything that would be happening to him in such description.
He was happy that it was so thorough at the same time though. He didn't want something to go wrong after all. He flicked off the burner under his cauldron, making sure not to shake the potion.
He had spent three days mixing in the pictures, forcing them to dissolve in the concoction inside the cauldron. He wasn't going to fuck it up now. Especially since he had earned the ire of Mcgonagall by skipping classes to do it.
'Meh. This is so much more important than class. Besides, I'm a champion. I don't have to go to class." He let a grin take over his face. His excitement at finally completing his potion and the glee of not having classes was overwhelming.
He poured the required dosage into a test tube, the shaking of his hands making the task much harder than it had to be. He immediately downed the thick brown liquid, uncaring about the taste.
It was horrible and burned on the way down, but nothing could quench his joy. He quickly got rid of the excess potion, making sure to dilute it with water before letting it drain so no one else could drink it.
It was a fast acting potion, meant to take action in almost no amount of time. The amount he would have to eat until it was complete was ridiculous, consisting of 9 meals a day. Thankfully, he had the kitchens or he would be fucked.
He had already talked to Dobby about his needs. The little elf had been so happy at being able to feed him 9 times a day that Harry couldn't even feel guilty for giving him so much more work on top of everything he already did.
Speaking of food… he was already feeling a bit of pain gnawing at his insides.
The mastery of the basic defensive mental arts are not completely necessary. I have perfected my craft, creating several spells to help further it along. One is rather simply, helping link your physical touch to your mind.
Successfully achieving the same mistake I did is almost impossible, especially if you are purposefully trying. Thankfully for you, the spell I created can help you learn it.
The more you touch a person, the better access you will have to their minds. Enough physical contact, and you can bring their emotions, feelings, eventually even their thoughts into your own mind for you to manipulate.
You'll get the hang of doing it without physical contact quickly though, negating the need for the spell. Quite useful too, since the spell only lasts about 10 minutes every time it is cast. My skill in magic is not great enough to go beyond that.
Small glances are enough. They do not dissipate after time, they build up. You may begin feeling what they feel if you concentrate on them, eventually understanding their thoughts even while they are far away, whenever you want.
All it takes is one simple touch to begin. The rest will follow in time. Patience is key.
Harry looked down at his fingers, wondering how a spell and touch could practically hand you someone's mind. The danger of magic never seemed clearer to Harry, yet it only excited him.
"Just a little bit couldn't hurt right?"
