Greetings, weird lonely people.

The response to this fic has been simply extraordinary, so I cancelled my plan to write a HP/Percy J. crossover and decided to continue on with this fic. It's like the old saying; there's no story like a story about a game about a story.

Before I begin, however, I would like to issue a challenge. This idea has been on my mind for a while now, but I have been unable to form it into a storyline, so I am leaving it to better minds than my own.

THE TWO-MAN CON CHALLENGE

All the great cons of history, from the standard Good cop, Bad cop to the advanced Bishop and the Bluebottle, are two-person cons. Imagine if the ones in Harry Potter were too.

Imagine if Dumbledore and Riddle were in league to rule the world.

Imagine if the reason Dumbledore fought Grindelwald was because Grindelwald got cold feet.

And imagine if one Harry Potter found out.

I suggest taking inspiration from Neil Gaiman's 'American Gods'. It is, by far, one of the best books I have ever read, along with R. Thakur's 'A Walking Shadow', and Joanne M. Harris' 'The Gospel of Loki'. I would recommend these three books to all readers.

Special thanks to aidansidhe, Joe Lawyer and Kaws for their reviews. I will now stop putting stats inside the text; they will only come in the beginning and end of the chapter.

I had put Author's Notes in the text as this was supposed to be a plot for others to make a story on, and the notes would have made it clearer. But it transformed and metamorphosed into a proper story on its own.

I'm really not repeating Game messages to fill up the word count, but rather to add a degree of authenticity. I imagine this is pretty much what an actual Game would do; repeat the same message again and again.

Harry's maturity is measured by his intelligence and wisdom, so as that increases, his maturity will too. I'm assuming he had an awful childhood first time around and so has literally no idea about video games.

Also, this story won't be lasting much longer {EDIT: It probably will}, so don't worry about the word count. I've already got an ending in mind.

*Sniff* I'm getting emotional again.

X…X

Harry opened his eyes, expecting to find himself awake. Instead he looked upon a familiar and highly unwelcome face. He felt a shiver of fear in his bones, but shook it off.

"You again!" he groaned. "Seriously, am I going to come here every night or something?"

The Builder inclined its head. "It is good to see you again as well, Master of Death." It said, not a hint of sarcasm in its tone.

Harry stared at him. "What's with the sudden formality?" he asked. "Last time we met, you were so familiar you might as well have been my best friend."

The Builder kept an even expression. "Fear not, we will not be meeting every night. The only reason that we are meeting right now is that there have been some… let us call them balance changes, to the Game."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Hold on." He said suspiciously. "Is that the reason that I didn't get XP for the cooking I did at lunch time?"

The Builder nodded, unperturbed by Harry's glare. "As the designer of this Game, I expected you to take some more time to try and understand the way this Game works, and to see all the various options available. However, I underestimated your proclivity to jump into situations headfirst without any information."

Harry did his best to try and ignore the insult.

"The consequence of this was that you ascended the levels very quickly, especially when you accidentally stumbled upon how to grind your XP. You are now at level 28, and 5 more XP will take you to the next level, which will make you the equivalent of a 44-year-old."

Harry grinned proudly at the Builder, who disregarded the smile as if it did not even exist.

"As you may remember, level 29 is also the level that your Uncle is at. Seeing you reach your Uncle's level so easily, I was concerned that there would be no challenge left in living the Game. As a result, I decided to alter the way the Game works."

Harry gulped. He felt dread building up in his bones. Whatever was coming, he was not going to like it.

"Levelling up your skills will no longer give you any XP."

Its words fell with the deep finality of Doomsday.

"You will not lose the progress that you have made, but the only method for you to gain XP now will be by completing quests."

Harry had been right. He did not like it.

"There have also been some changes to the main screen. My advice to you is that you take the time out to try and understand what various controls are for. It will be to your benefit."

It glared at Harry, and his protests died in his throat. Run, his bones screamed, run like thunder. "Any questions?" it asked carefully, and one got the impression that one was not supposed to have any questions.

Well, no one had ever accused Harry of picking up on subtle cues.

"What about the Master of Death situation in this universe?"

To his surprise, the Builder actually considered the question before answering. "A good point." It admitted. "You are the Master of Death, so I suppose I should give you that title as well, even though I do not know what it will do. The Hallows in this universe will belong to you."

It snapped its fingers. "Now… now, you wake up."

X…X

You have rested in your bed. HP, MP and VIT restored to full.

Mastering the Deathly Hallows in a previous lifetime in a different universe has given you a new title – Master of Death - ?

Harry stared at the messages in front of him. Both of them were unbelievably amazing for completely different reasons.

No matter how close he was to dying, he could simply go to sleep in a safe place and regain everything.

And he couldn't wait to see how being the Master of Death affected the use of his Invisibility Cloak.

"Boy! Wake up!"

And the second day of living the Game had begun.

He made his way out of the cupboard, flirting with his aunt and increasing his reputation by one. He entered the kitchen ready for whatever grinding he had to do to increase the levels of his skills. Even if it didn't increase his own level.

Damn the Builder.

Before he started his cooking, he did the one thing that really should have been the first thing he did the previous day – he looked at the symbols on his screen. The Builder was right. Everything had changed.

The HP, MP and Vitality bars were now three bars that lined the bottom of his vision. There was the rotating die at the top left corner and a drop down bar saying 'Home' at the top right. Between the two was a single line of text.

Ver. 1.1.0 - Beta.

What the fuck did that mean?

Under normal conditions, Harry would not have been in the least stressed about a sentence made of random letters and numbers. These, however, were far from normal conditions. The Builder's ominous words echoed in his mind as he stared at the single line of text. What if this was what would help him beat Voldemort, or if this was some information on doing something that he was supposed to understand? He needed to understand this.

Damn. The. Builder.

Moving on to the next thing, Harry said "Home", and the world froze. The bar at the top right dropped down.

Profile. Quests. Inventory. Weapons and Armor. Companions. Settings. Report.

Was his the only life this weird, or was he the only one who bitched about it all day?

Harry sat down on the kitchen shelf and massaged his temple with his hands. He really was not doing very well. He had no idea what half the things meant and barely used the other half. By now, if he actually used his head, he could have been far, far ahead of where he was right now.

But he didn't. Why?

He really hated introspection. It revealed uncomfortable truths about him that he did not want revealed. Truths like the fact that he was treating this like a game.

Yes, this was a game, but it was also a universe. This universe had been built, yes, but so had his own and, if the Builder was to be believed, all the others. It was a complete universe with people who lived and breathed, people whom he had known.

The realization hit him like a punch in the gut.

Everyone was alive here, alive and well and not scarred by a war in which they should have had no part. Fred was alive, George hadn't lost an ear, Bill wasn't part werewolf, Sirius, Dumbledore, Remus and Tonks…

Teddy hadn't yet been born. He wasn't a godfather – hell, Remus and Tonks hadn't even met. He wasn't friends with Hermione or Ron, hadn't searched with Luna for strange creatures in Hogwarts or wandered the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid.

And Ginny… oh god, Ginny.

He opened his eyes, regarding his trembling hands without much surprise. He would have to start over with Ginny, back to the beginning when she was nothing more than an avid fangirl.

How had he forgotten about Ginny? He had spent an entire day cooking and gardening and wandering around without thinking about Ginny, or any of his friends.

He had been foolish and childish, doing without thinking or planning, unconcerned with the future. He knew what was going to take place – he had a responsibility to prevent it.

Every single death from now on due to Voldemort was on his head; the blood was on his hands.

What had the Builder called it? Grinding. If that was what he had to do, so be it.

He would protect his own.

X…X

Cooking sweetened oats had taken Harry up another three levels in Cooking, level 15 graduating him to fire starter, and increasing his reputation with Uncle Vernon and Dudley by 5 and 10 respectively. After he had eaten himself, he sat down in a corner with a notepad and a broken pencil and, for the first time in his life, made a plan.

The only problem that stood in his way was that he had no idea how to go about it. Hermione was better at this kind of stuff… but Hermione, here and now, was a six-year-old girl who had no idea about magic or war or anything beyond what her parents and teachers had taught her.

He made the first heading, noting as he wrote that his handwriting was still that of a child.

Objectives. These were, as far he was concerned, pretty obvious.

Stay alive.

Keep friends alive.

Defeat Voldemort.

It was the next part that was tricky. He scribbled down the heading. Steps. Basically, an idiot's how-to guide for the objectives he had just listed.

Level up.

Gain skills.

Destroy Horcruxes.

Train.

He stared at the paper blankly, before adding 'Find out what Ver. 1.1.0 – Beta means.

Even the most optimistic and supportive of people would have admitted that it was not a very helpful piece of paper. A slightly severer critic – Severus Snape, for example – would have said something along the lines of it being a wasteful restatement of the obvious that any dunderheaded nitwit should have considered self-evident.

As far as Harry was concerned, it was perfect.

He did not, he had realized, need a plan. He was bad at plans. Plans were bad with him. It was best for the safety of both of them that they stayed far away from each other. No, what he needed was a list of goals to focus on, something he could look at and remind himself, 'this is what I ought to be doing.'

At the top of the paper he wrote the title he had thought up. He was in a game – no, he was in the Game, and the list he had made were his objectives, which was why his childlike scrawl was visible in five words across the top of the sheet.

The Name of the Game.

X…X

He had shoved both himself and the sheet – henceforth to be referred to as The Sheet – into the cupboard underneath the stairs, and was currently engaged in exploring the different options in Home.

Profile. A full-length picture of himself popped up, while alongside, the stats he had grown so used to seeing were displayed. It was nothing he was not aware of.

Quests. He only had three Quests pending; making the Dursleys like him and a new one which had just appeared – Completing the Sheet. They both would take time. The last was the list of chores he had received.

Inventory. The boxes appeared with seven pounds and a set of clothing in them. This option had potential. He could use it in any number of ways; to shoplift, to sneak items past security… could he put people in there?

Weapons and Armor. A list of available weapons appeared, which was currently empty. A list of equipped weapons appeared – also empty. The list of available armor, however, had two options – the clothes he was currently wearing and the old hand-me-downs. The one currently equipped was better, so he left it. Nothing he could change here.

Companions. He had no companions, nor did he know what companions were. Maybe something like familiars.

Settings. Options popped up – Subtitles, Music, Sound and so on – along with on / off switches. Harry left them all on.

Report. A dialogue box popper up addressed to 'The Builder'. No bugs he wanted to report, so Harry sent a message asking for any more information about the Master of Death.

The rotating die at the corner was apparently something called 'Luck'. The die had numbers on each side; -1, -2, -3, +4, +5 and +6. It could only be used once per hour and added the value that came up to the skill or stat that he was trying to use.

Very, very useful.

X…X

He was staring at The Sheet once again. The only thing he could really do now was train. Magical training, unless he found a way to the Wizarding World and a wand, was out. The only option left was physical and mental training.

It was in the process of this that Harry first learnt to appreciate titles. Thanks to the Whinging Gardener title, 5 gardens later it was noon and he had gained 15 levels in Gardening alone. This was, to him, absolutely useless. What was more useful was that he had gained 13 pounds of money out of it, bringing his total up to 20 pounds. Even better, in his opinion, was that he had gained 3 points to Strength.

For a six-year-old, he was ridiculously strong. He only hoped that the trend would continue.

Cooking lunch brought Cooking up by five levels as he learnt stir-fry vegetables. It was rather more exhausting than other cooking because he had to stir almost continuously. Thankfully, the vegetables were meant to last for both lunch and dinner.

Which led him back to where he was now. Staring at the Sheet. It was all very well to decide to do physical and mental training, but 'how' was the question that conked the raccoon. He could only gain strength by lifting bags of fertilizer and pushing lawnmowers for so long.

He flipped over The Sheet and started scribbling on the back of it.

Running. Weights. Find a gym? Study. Find a library? When does school start? Studying Muggle subjects basically useless. Learn more about games. Find a gaming store? Maybe ask them about the Ver. 1.1.0 – Beta thing?

He looked at The Sheet and nodded. Some of these he could accomplish. Running, maybe once in the morning and once in the evening at the park down the street. Was there any way for him to wake up earlier?

Until he found a gym, he could simply improvise with heavy metal parts lying in the shed. An exercise regime wouldn't hurt either, maybe some push-ups, pull-ups, chin-ups and crunches.

He would have to find time one day to properly explore Little Whinging, maybe when Aunt Petunia was sleeping.

Running was an activity best left to cooler times of the day, possibly before cooking dinner. Right now, maybe he could find a library.

X…X

The library at Little Whinging was a near-deserted building with only one balding librarian who was fast asleep at the desk. Harry levelled up his Sneak skill by 3 levels just getting past him, although he failed multiple times. He was beginning to realize the usefulness of the Save and Load ability.

He was currently scanning the shelves for anything that looked vaguely like something he might possibly want later in life. He had already picked up three tomes of history describing the terrorist attacks that had mysteriously ended six years ago.

A book entitled Myths of the Middle Ages joined his pile. He had found through experience that they were pretty accurate as regards the Wizarding Society of the time.

He really wished he could use the Summoning Spell that he had learnt in his Fourth Year. Just one word – wait, what word?

Why couldn't he remember the Summoning Charm? He could remember all the other spells he had learnt – except that he couldn't. He could remember performing the spells, yes, but he could not remember how he performed the spells. The wand motions, the incantations were wiped from his memory cleanly.

The Builder had tampered with his mind.

He slumped down on a chair, a combination of rage and panic blotting out all his other senses. It was only a sharp, stinging pain in his hand that broke him out of this void.

The HP bar on the screen had reduced, but he had missed the message that had accompanied it. His fingernails had dug into the palm of his hand. Breathing deeply, he tried to recall what other knowledge had disappeared from his head. He remembered his friends, and all the events that had taken place, just not things that he learnt in class.

How about Muggle primary school? He tried to recall what they had taught him in fifth grade and could remember nothing. Whether that meant his memory had been wiped or that he simply didn't remember was unclear.

Pulling out The Sheet, he scribbled on the back with his pencil.

Memory wipe? Ask Builder.

At the rate he was going, Harry thought, he was going to need a diary.

He left his books on the table and kept walking among the shelves, looking for any more texts that could help him in the magical world. He was particularly hopeful about finding a book related to gaming; it might explain the Ver. 1.1.0 – Beta that was written on the top of the screen.

A Guided Course in Meditation had been picked up – in hopes of learning Occlumency – by the time he reached the adult section. Not exactly expecting to find anything inside, he shrugged and went ahead anyway. He might regret it if he did not.

As he thought, he passed several rows of steamy romance novels with semi-naked characters on the cover page, but nothing that he thought that he could use. It was as he was passing a row of books with titles such as '101 Ways to Flirt: How to catch your Date and Meet your Mate' that he froze. His mind went to the Kissing and Flirting skills that he had achieved, as well as the woman who had been bathing with the window open.

The Game clearly had no problem introducing adult elements, which made sense since this was an entire universe and people did have to reproduce. It was not exactly the most productive of tasks but still, Harry reasoned, he had five years to level up enough to protect his friends.

Having avoided that particular guilt trip, Harry promptly picked up every book that claimed to describe flirting, kissing, sex or anything remotely related to them, and headed back to his table.

X…X

It was only after finishing the nine books that he had at his table that Harry looked up and noted that the sun was getting low. Unless he hurried, he wouldn't be able to reach in time for dinner, and he didn't even want to know what would happen if he was late. Still, the session in the library had been a productive one. +6 to Intelligence, 5 more levels to Flirting and two new skills called Pleasuring and Fucking – the Game was rather crude, expecially considering that he was six – which were already at level 2, meant that Harry considered this session far more productive than the gardening.

But he still didn't want to be late to dinner. With that thought in mind, he began to run.

X…X

Vitality and Dexterity had increased by one point by the time he reached Number 4, but he was still late. As his Aunt opened her mouth to start shrieking and Uncle glowered down at him, Harry managed to speak up before them.

"Load Game."

And he was back at the Library, just after having placed the books back at their proper places. This time around, he didn't sit around reviewing his statistics and planning for the next day, but simply ran straight back.

VIT +1

DEX +1

He reached on time, avoiding the loss of reputation with his relatives, but better than that, he discovered how he could exercise for long periods of time without worry.

There was, he decided, nothing better than the Save and Load feature.

After a dinner so scant that a bird would have been left unsatisfied – but still enough to heal the lost HP – he went for a run. He had approximately ten minutes before Aunt Petunia would come down and shut him in his cupboard. Harry managed to extend those ten minutes to over half an hour by saving the game after each round of the park, and then loading the saved game. He had gained 4 points in Dexterity and 2 in Vitality before the Vitality bar finished.

He returned back exhausted, well aware that being dirty had reduced his Charisma by ten points but far too weary to care. He collapsed on the cot and fell asleep immediately.

X…X

You have rested in your bed. HP, MP and VIT restored to full.

The first thing Harry did the next day was take a shower, restoring his Charisma to normal… for him. Glancing at the Sheet, he sent a short message to the Builder asking for a meeting as soon as possible – he really did not think confronting it with the news of his memory wipe was something to be done via message.

And thus began the routine that Harry planned to rigorously maintain until his school began. He cooked breakfast and went for a run in the park until his Vitality was exhausted. He returned to Privet Drive and took a shower, before going out to do the lawns of various people, sometimes increasing his strength and giving him some money. He returned to Number Four, took another shower and cooked lunch and dinner together. Afterwards, he went wandering around Little Whinging looking for a gym or a gaming store. A gym would be more useful, but the gaming store was rather more important to him, which was why he repeated one hour five times a day using the Save and Load feature just to try and find a gaming store. It was on the first day of doing this that he broke into a house.

As he was walking down Privet Drive, he passed the house of one Arabella Figg, who he knew had been placed there to keep an eye on him by Dumbledore. He stopped in front of the gate, staring up at it, before he vaulted over the fence and made his way to the house. A cat – or possibly a… what was Crookshanks called again? Harry felt a familiar rage building up in him as he isolated yet another memory that had been wiped. Pushing it down, he sought to discourage the… cat from winding itself between his ankles, to no avail. He was no cat herder.

Cautiously, he stepped into the house, using the Sneak skill to avoid detection. The cat faithfully accompanied him in.

Sneak failed due to tripwire detection ward.

A shuffling noise came from the top of the stairs and Harry saw Mrs. Figg descending.

Arabella Doreen Figg – Lvl 41

Relationship: Acquaintance

Reputation: +120

Attractiveness: 9

Mood: Confused, Happy

Harry was the first to speak. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Figg. You're looking nice today."

+20% to Flirting. +20 reputation with Arabella Doreen Figg.

Mrs. Figg smiled at him kindly. "Good afternoon, Harry. Not that I mind, but what are you doing here?"

He cast about wildly for an excuse that would seem reasonable. "I came here so that I could… return your cat! It seems to be following me around."

CHR check passed.

Her gaze dropped to the feline that was sniffing Harry's shin curiously, and she smiled again. "Yes, she does seem to have taken quite a shine to you already, doesn't she? I'll tell you what, you can keep her. I have far too many as it is."

It was now or never – the only time to perhaps recover at least one of his lost memories. He smiled back at Mrs. Figg, although a part of him was still wary of her for being a spy of the Order of the Phoenix. "Mrs. Figg, could you tell me what breed it – she is?"

Another warm, annoying smile and she stroked the cat gently. "She's a rare breed called a kneazle, Harry. A very smart breed and extremely loyal." His face was blank except for a small smile, but internally, his mind was partying with liquor and Jell-O. Kneazle! She was a kneazle! Crookshanks was a kneazle! He could remember the word kneazle!

Kneazle!

She smiled again – why was she smiling so much! – and ushered him out of the door. Harry blinked at the kneazle lying in his arms. "What the fuck do I do with you?" he wondered aloud, and she butted her head against his chest.

Nice Guy activated.

Well, it wasn't like anything of his was being lost. He wandered over to a house he had visited on the first day of the Game and knocked on the door. Its occupant emerged.

"Afternoon, Angela; as beautiful as ever, I see. May I come in?"

+20% to Flirting. +10 reputation with Angela Wilkinshire.

The older woman's cheeks had a dusting of pink as she stepped aside to allow him in, eyeing the furry bundle in his arms curiously. Harry himself was stunned. Yes, technically he had flirted with Mrs. Figg, but that had been comparatively mild. Then again, she had been just a 9 on Attractiveness. He didn't have much contact with Aunt Petunia over the last two days either, being far too busy. But this time, when he flirted with Angela, it had been so much bolder… and yet she had still been receptive.

Things were changing already. Those books he had read had been a huge boost, and it seems he had not realized just how huge. They were pushing him, making him go further, always trying to get him to go just one step beyond what he was capable of.

"Is there any specific reason you're here all of a sudden, Harry?" she asked when they were settled on the couch in her living room. He grinned mischievously at her.

"Can't I just visit one of my newest friends once in a while?"

+1 reputation with Angela Wilkinshire.

She smiled, obviously glad to be considered a friend by a boy his age. "You're welcome to drop by anytime you like, Harry."

"Not to mention, of course," he continued as if she had not spoken. "A pretty one as well."

+20% to Flirting. +5 reputation with Angela Wilkinshire.

The slight blush had returned again, and she laughed. "You're too young for me, Harry dear."

"I remembered what you said about not being the most social of people, so I brought you someone who might keep you company." He held out the kneazle, which woke up and blinked at a nervous Angela. The kneazle sniffed her trembling hand cautiously, before jumping from his arms into her lap. It curled up and went back to sleep.

Angela's eyes were shining as she gently stroked the kneazle behind the ears. She looked up from the feline, gently depositing her on the rug and turned to face Harry.

The next thing he knew, he was being hugged tightly. He froze up (let-me-go-have-to-escape-Voldemort-is-coming), struggling to free himself as bad memories resurfaced from his first time around with the Dursleys and in the war, before he got a hold of himself. She was thanking him, babbling nonsensically in his ear and kissing his cheeks till they were covered in lipstick.

+70 reputation with Angela Wilkinshire.

Kissing +20%.

Kissing +20%.

Kissing +20%.

Kissing +20%.

She drew back and started wiping her eyes with a tissue from a tissue box. This was fine by Harry, given as he was still somewhat in shock. He really must have underestimated just how lonely she was. He reached over for a tissue himself and started wiping lipstick off his cheeks.

"If that's the kind of thanks I can expect for getting you a cat, I should take you to the zoo sometime." He remarked. Angela laughed, her cheeks the same color as Harry's, if for a different reason.

"I'd love to go to the zoo with you, Harry." She said, smiling at him. "I haven't been there in years. It's just not the same without another person to go with, you know?"

His hand rested on top of hers, squeezing it lightly.

"I'll be sure to make time."

X…X

He completed the rest of the daily routine that he had set for himself. He went to the library and read books, using the Save and Load function to finish by around 6 o'clock. He had no fixed limit for how much he needed to study or learn, merely keeping at it until the very idea of lifting another book seemed distasteful. He returned to Privet Drive and did an exercise routine in the shed, lifting heavy machine parts and doing muscle building and definition exercises. Dinner, followed by running in the park until his vitality was exhausted, and then the third shower of the day.

He really wished he could take less showers.

He jotted a rough schedule down on a small page and affixed it to The Sheet with a paper clip. It was now called The Sheets.

Breakfast. Run. Shower. Lawns. Shower. Lunch and Dinner. Wander. Meet Angela. Library. Shed. Dinner. Run. Shower.

X…X

Harry was, he swore, slowly going crazy. It had been two weeks since he had been visited by the Builder in his sleep, and he had been unable to find either gym or gaming store. If it turned out that Little Whinging did not, in fact, have either of them, he might just be forced to kill himself.

Currently, Harry was staring at the shop in front of him. Far from being a gym or a gaming store, it was a store offering guided tours of London and the suburbs for tourists.

He entered.

"Hello! How can I help you, sir?"

The woman at the desk might as well have been the very personification of the stereotypical dumb blonde – stupid as anything, but pretty and dressed provocatively enough to draw eyeballs. Harry unashamedly eyed her chest, given as how she was staring at a point about two feet above his head.

Then again, that probably wasn't her fault. The Builder, Harry had noticed on several occasions, seemed to have left several of the characters in the game as simple-minded robots. The lady was probably built to stare at the average height of people.

Lecherous activated.

"I can think of a couple of ways, but for now, can you tell me where the nearest gaming store and the nearest gym are?"

She smiled a blinding, bland smile. "Of course, sir! Here is a guide map to the city. It will direct you to all the places you need to find in London and the outlying areas!"

Item 'Map' placed in Inventory.

He removed it and attached it to the Sheets.

X…X

Gigolo Gaming.

Not exactly a name which would inspire confidence; unfortunately, it was also the only gaming store within walking distance, which was more than he could say of the nearest gym. He would have to trust to fate and luck to help him.

"Hello! How can I help you, sir?"

The girl behind the desk could have been the twin of the one at the Tourist Tour shop.

"I own a game in which the hero has to live a life while completing quests and defeating bosses-"

"An RPG!" she interrupted cheerfully. He blinked.

"A what now?"

"A Role Playing Game!"

What the fuck was there in that to be so bleeping happy about?

"Yes, call it what you like. There is a line of text across the top of the… screen that says Ver. 1.1.0 – Beta. What does that mean?"

She smiled happily, obviously the victim of an overpowered cheering charm, before replying.

"Ver. Stands for Version." She chirped. "Version 1.0 means that the basic game has remained the same. Version 1.1 means there has been one major change in game format since Version 1.0. Version 1.1.0 means that there have been no minor updates since Version 1.1 came out. Beta means the game has not been released to the public yet, and you are testing it for the creators to make sure it has no problems or bugs."

That… made sense.

Wait, that was it? He had spent two weeks going mad looking for a meaning to those words because of the inane ramblings of the Builder, and that. Was. It?!

Once again, Harry felt a need to slay some foul and hideous beastling.

"Do you, by any chance, have a guide to playing RPGs?"

She smiled like making a sale had made it the best day of her life. "Of course. That will be 1 pound, please!"

Sighing, he handed over a pound, making his first purchase in this life.

Item 'Guide' placed in inventory.

He removed it and attached it to The Sheets.

X…X

Harry stood on the pavement, staring up at the Little Whinging Primary School. In the month that had followed his arriving in this universe, he had fought a boss battle with a wild dog, enabling him to gain one level, but had done little else. He had added the points he had received to HP, MP, Charisma and Wisdom, which he could not find out how to increase otherwise.

Oh, he had of course trained and studied and cooked and gardened and kept Angela company, but none of that had helped towards him levelling up. Quests were scarce in Little Whinging. The only positive thing that had taken place was that cooking for the Dursleys had increased his reputation with them enough to make Dudley actually like him now.

The best part of the day was sitting with Angela, talking and playing with Sansa, the kneazle, and occasionally going forth together for some cooking or gardening, sharing knowledge with each other. These were the only times he could level up those skills now.

He also now knew how the Game worked, in part due to the Guide he had purchased. Most skills could go up by 3 levels upon being used on a single entity. Cooking one dish repeatedly could gain you no more than 3 levels to Cooking. Doing a garden could get 3 levels to Gardening. Flirting with a person could get you 3 levels to Flirting.

Of course, there were exceptions. Reading new books about a topic always levelled you up. Some dishes were difficult and got you 5 levels instead of 3. But these too finished, and Harry was left trying to find ways to level up his skills.

He had been sending regular messages to the Builder asking for a meeting, but had yet to receive a reply.

Deep within the recesses of the building, a bell rang and the gates to the school opened. Harry let himself be pushed in by the flood.

X…X

Information - Locked

Name: Harry James Potter

Origin: Dursley's

D.O.B: 31 July 1980

Gender: Male

Level: 29 [+ 25 XP]

Statistics

1.Advantages and Disadvantages: There are a fixed number of advantages and disadvantages that complement each other. They cannot be removed, but they can be switched out either by replacing them with the reverse of their complement or with another acquired advantage or disadvantage.

a.ADVANTAGES:

i.Hero's Complex: Try to save as many people as you possibly can and take the burden of saving them upon yourself. Receive a temporary 10% boost to all stats when saving someone from danger.

ii.Nice Guy: Be as nice to as many people as possible… even if they sometimes don't deserve it. Temporary +10 to Charisma when activated.

iii.Soul Strength: Cannot be tempted or controlled by artificial means such as Imperius, Allure, compulsions, etc. Wisdom temporarily reaches as high as necessary to defeat control.

iv.Need for Speed: Be fast… almost uncannily fast. Match a ritual enhanced Voldemort in speed and reflexes. Permanent +5 to Dexterity.

b.DISADVANTAGES:

i.Running Rashly: Have a tendency to jump into situations without thinking them through. Temporary -5 to Wisdom when activated.

ii.Survivor's Guilt: When an acquaintance or higher relationship dies, feel severe and crippling guilt for not saving them. Intelligence temporarily 0 when activated.

iii.Lecherous: Cannot resist the carnal temptations of the flesh. Try to have different levels of sexual congress with females ranging from flirting to hardcore fetish sex based on her attractiveness. Permanent -20 to Reputation with the female in question if one fails to do what one set out to do [flirt, fuck, etc.] when activated.

iv.Stage Fright: Shy away from attention and publicity of either kind. Temporary -5 to Charisma when activated.

c.STORED ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES: You have no stored advantages or disadvantages.

2.Features: Features are skill-points based statistics. These can be upgraded using basic skill points and have no upper limit. The average for any level is half of that level plus 7. Average level for any age is half that age plus 7.

a.HP: [Health Points represent how much damage you can take.] : 25

b.MP: [Mana Points represent how much magic you can use.] : 25

c.DEX: [Dexterity represents your speed at running and dodging.] : 35+5 = 40

d.CHR: [Charisma represents how well you can interact with people.] : 25

e.WIS: [Wisdom represents how well you can think things through.] : 25

f.INT: [Intelligence represents how much and how quickly you can learn.] : 49

g.STR: [Strength represents how much physical work you can undertake.] : 34

h.VIT: [Vitality represents how long you can undertake physical activity.] : 38

i.Skill Points to be Allotted: 1

3.Skills: Skills are things that are learnt as the game progresses. These are upgraded by practicing them and have a maximum level of hundred. At a level x, a skill has x% chance of succeeding in a random test case, except at level hundred, which has a 99.9% chance.

a.Cooking: Lvl 31 – 0% Cook

b.Flirting: Lvl 14 – 20%

c.Waiter: Lvl 25 – 0%

d.Gardening: Lvl 53 – 0% Grass Grower

e.Sneak: Lvl 9 – 10% Blunderer

f.Kissing: Lvl 4 – 0%

g.Pleasuring: Lvl 3 – 50%

h.Fucking: Lvl 3 – 50%

4.Titles: Titles represent the way a group of people thinks of you, usually based on the way you act or the things that are said about you.

a.Boy-Who-Lived: +100 reputation with people opposing or oppressed by Lord Voldemort. -100 reputation with people agreeing with or on the side of Lord Voldemort. +800 reputation with Albus Dumbledore. -800 reputation with Lord Voldemort.

b.Chore Boy: +20 reputation with Vernon Dursley. +30 reputation with Dudley Dursley. +1 reputation with Petunia Rose Dursley née Evans. +15 reputation [sympathy] from acquaintances and higher who are aware of title, excluding the Dursleys.

c.Whinging Gardener: +5 reputation with all residents of Little Whinging excluding the Dursleys.

d.Master of Death: ?

Dudley Dursley – Level 10

Relationship: Cousin

Reputation: -30

Mood: ?

Vernon Dursley – Level 29

Relationship: Uncle

Reputation: -460

Mood: ?

Petunia Rose Dursley née Evans – Level 30

Relationship: Aunt

Reputation: -997

Attractiveness: 26

Mood: ?

Angela Wilkinshire – Level 32

Relationship: Friend

Reputation: +280

Attractiveness: 18

Mood: ?

Arabella Doreen Figg – Lvl 41

Relationship: Acquaintance

Reputation: +140

Attractiveness: 9

Mood: ?

Inventory

1.The Sheets – The Name of the Game.

2.33 Pounds.

3.Basic armor clothing.

The Winter Lord moans as the masseuse massages her bare back. Ah yes. Right there. Riiiiight there.

"My Lady?" a nervous voice says, and she opens her eyes up in annoyance when the massage stops. "Yes?" she snaps, lifting herself up on her elbows to see the minion holding a laptop. Her laptop. The minion, of course, is busy staring at her chest.

"Oh no no no no no!" she exclaims. "Take that thing away from me!"

"But… Milady-" he stammers, but she cuts him off.

"No! Take that Devil's Contraption away from me! Laptops are bad!"

Gulping, the minion retreats and she lays back down to enjoy the massage.

Yes. She thinks as his hands move lower. Massages are good.

Hands are good.