Welcome to my newest plot bunny! This will be a LitRPG style story, with quests and skills and fighting and learning and cultivating and all that fun stuff! Harriet starts out pre-Hogwarts, but I plan on going fast through these years and just really hitting where I differ from canon. I have a lot of setting up to do in this universe, so give me a few chapters before you start asking me loads of questions. If I haven't gotten to it by then, please ask! I don't have an idea for any pairing at the moment, both Remus and Sirius in this story will be pseudo parents for Harriet, and Hermione will be her roommate and best friend. I have written a huge chunk of the beginning of this story, and I will post once a week for updates. I don't want to give anything away, so on with the show!
*PS I AM UNEDITED AND NOT BRITISH. NOR DO I OWN ANYTHING YOU RECONGIZE. MY ONE AND ONLY DISCLAIMER.*
-HPDQ-
Harriet had always known she was different. Her relatives made sure of that. If it wasn't her turning the teacher's hair blue, the inability of Aunt Petunia to shave her head and it stay shaved, or her accidentally teleporting (because what else could she possibly have done?) to the cafeteria roof to escape Dudley, it was definitely the way no one around her seemed to notice nor care about the terrible living situation she was in. But, it wasn't until her eleventh birthday that she realized exactly what all of this meant.
31 Jul
No matter how many times she opened and shut her eyes, it didn't go away.
[HAPPY BIRTHDAY USER! PLEASE CONFIRM YOUR CLASS.]
Blink. Nope, still there. It was as if the words were floating in front of her, a slightly glowy white.
Even at eleven, Harry knew something wasn't quite right. She rubbed her eyes. Nope, still there. She sat up on her cot, unsurprised that the words followed her, never moving from directly in front of her line of vision. The good news was that she could still see around them, so it wasn't a total loss of vision.
"What?" Harry asked herself out loud. She wondered if everyone would see the words, or if only she would have to forever look around them for the rest of her days.
[MUGGLE SURROUNDINGS DETECTED. WOULD YOU LIKE TO RUN THE TUTORIAL?]
The words faded and, she assumed, responded to the words she spoke aloud. Still confused as ever, Harry is about to agree to run the tutorial, whatever that may be, when her aunt pounds on her cupboard door.
"GET UP FREAK! You should have been in the kitchen half an hour ago, you know Vernon likes his breakfast by 8!"
'Perhaps later then,' Harry sighs to herself as she gathers her clothes and runs to the bathroom across the hall, for her one of two bathroom breaks today.
[TUTORIAL PAUSED. CLASS CHOICE DELAYED. TIME REMAINING: 48 HOURS.]
'Well, at least there is that." And Harry went about her eleventh birthday just like any other day, just like all her other birthdays with the Dursley's.
—-
Harry had just finished making breakfast for her relatives when she heard the post flap from down the hall.
"Get the mail Dudley," came her monsteresque of an uncle behind his newspaper.
"Get the mail Freak," her cousin directed to her with a kick.
"Alright, alright," Harry said to herself as she walked down to grab the post.
Junk, junk, oh, what's this?
Miss H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4, Privet Drive,
Little Whinging, Surrey
[HOGWARTS LETTER IDENTIFIED. MUGGLE ENVIRONMENT DETECTED. WOULD YOU LIKE TO STORE TO INVENTORY FOR LATER PERUSAL?]
Harry looked at the letter in her hand, and nodded. Better safe than sorry.
With a puff of…was that glitter? the letter disappeared. Harry blinked a few times, unsure how to process the last 30 seconds. Thankfully, Dudley took the opportunity to come running by and pushed her to the ground in his haste out the front door.
Harry just shrugged. She can only assume that too many frying pans to head may have affected her brain, and goes about her business for the day.
Later that evening…
Harry lay in her cupboard that night, her stomach growling. Even though it was her birthday, not one person in her so-called family said anything to her about it. Harry wasn't even sure if they remembered, let alone cared. Eleven years of this treatment from the Dursley's has led to a very different child. Harry, unlike her peers, avoided others and enjoyed her time alone. On weekends when she was able to slip away, she spent as much time as she could at the local library. She enjoyed reading fantasy books as a way to escape the hell that she lived in. In the rare moment she put trust into an adult, it always came back to bite her in some way. So she gave up.
When she was younger she used to dream of a far off relative coming and whisking her away from the pain of living with the Dursley's. When no one came one particularly bad night after a "fall" down the staircase, Harry gave up hope. She was counting the days till her 18th birthday and she could finally leave this hellhole.
[NO MUGGLE PRESENCE DETECTED. RUN TUTORIAL? EST. RUNNING TIME: 0045]
And here we are with the glowy words again.
"I must have really lost it. Sure, why not." Harry said to herself.
Suddenly everything went dark and Harry collapsed onto her cot with a soft thump.
When Harry came to, she was not surprised to see more words floating above her line of sight.
[WELCOME USER TO TUTORIAL V.00781b.]
Harry took a look at her surroundings. She had come to sitting in a forest with the last glowing embers of a fire in front of her. The light of a full moon illuminated the sparse campsite. She ran her hand through her short dark red hair as she took in her surroundings.
"Welcome magic user. The scans of your home read muggle, or those without magic. Is it true you are unaware?"
Harry gave a start to the soft voice. She looked around, but saw no one.
"Umm..yes?" She said to the apparently not empty forest.
"Then welcome to the forest of Avalon, young witchling. I am the guardian spirit of all those who came before you, and of those who will come after. This is to serve as your introduction into the class and cultivation of your given species. Think of this as a very specific and helpful dream."
"...I'm sorry, but what? Species? I am pretty sure I am just a human." Asked a very confused Harry.
"Actually, Harriet, you are a witch," said the incorporeal voice, "just like your mother and father before you. You see, every creature has their given birth species, which you come into your class of such on your eleventh birthday. By accepting and confirming your species class, your class abilities are unlocked and you are able to start moving forward in mastering a subject, or many if you so wish. Additionally, on your eighteenth birthday you are given the opportunity to choose your subclass. Your subclass options will depend on how you spend those seven years between. For wizards and witches like you, most will spend that time in a school of their choice. You have in your possession an invitation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, do you not? Pull it from your key item storage."
"How exactly do I do that?"
"Simply will it into your hand, my child."
Harry held her hand up, placing it horizontal to the ground with her palm up. She thought to herself that she would like that letter again please, and sure enough, it materialized into her out turned hand with another puff of glitter lingering behind.
"Wicked," Harry said before opening her letter.
"Now, as I was saying, you have been invited to learn magic from Hogwarts. There are other options of course, but your family has ties to Hogwarts and the generations of Potters before you went there. At Hogwarts, your OWLs and NEWT scores will be the primary deciding factor in what subclasses you will be given to choose from. Most witches and wizards on average have three subclasses to choose from, although there are exceptions. For instance, someone who was bitten by a werewolf would be automatically given the subclass of Lycanthropy. There is no choice, and it is for the rest of your life. Otherwise, if a witch or wizard chose Potions, Defense the Dark Arts, and Dueling as their areas of expertise their probable end game is to earn the subclass of Auror or Hit Wizard. Herbology, Potions, and Charms would lead to a more plant based subclass such as Botanist or Herbology Professor. Does this make sense, Harriet?"
"Mostly, but what are the owls and newts? It sounds kind of gross."
"Based on the knowledge gleaned from yourself and other muggleborns who have come through my forest through the years, they are much like the A Levels in the non magical world. You have many years to learn and decide on your subclass, and we will meet once again before you choose. This meeting however, I must continue onwards."
Harry had a pensive look on her face as she thought about what the voice had told her so far. Unbeknownst to her, the gentle breeze ruffling her hair had a sentience of sorts. A soft hand grasping her shoulder in a reassuring squeeze had her jump.
"I did not mean to startle you, young witchling. Even as an echo in a temporary dreamscape, I can feel your soul calling out for help. I'm afraid I cannot give it directly, as I said I am not a real physical body. I will answer any questions you may have, and I will also do my best to guide those that are tied to you, back to you. Someone has done you a grave disservice my child, and I will do all I can to pull you from the misery of that place you are forced to call home. Now, let me tell you about Hogwarts and what you can expect moving forward in this new life you will carve out for yourself."
Harry spent what felt like hours under the trance of the guardian forest. It told her of a large castle, a Forbidden Forest, and of the magical world. As much as a guardian forest of children can anyway.
…
Far off the coast, deep into a stone prison, a sometimes-man sometimes-dog gave a loud, sad howl.
…
The howl stretched much further than it should and was reciprocated by a lonely wolf in a silver cage in the Scottish countryside.
—-
Harry woke up the day after her birthday feeling refreshed, even though she had the wildest and most vivid dream in her entire life. She lay on her cot for a moment, letting the conversation with the guardian spirit wash over her.
"The first thing you must do, young witchling, is to go to Diagon Alley. It is important to claim your inheritance through the goblins of Gringotts. Inside the Potter vault will be materials to assist you in choosing your subclass. Not to mention any items left behind by your family."
This memory alone shot Harry up in bed and had her running to the bathroom to dress for the day. It was a Sunday so after breakfast she would sneak away when the Dursley's made their visit to the local church. Some godly people they were, treating her the way they did. Harriet shook herself to drain her feelings, and set out to serve.
—-
After the front door slammed and her aunt made sure the doors were locked with Harry outside doing yard work, they left in mass to church, with most of their neighbors joining.
She kept working for a few minutes after they left her sight, just to be safe, and then she quickly rinsed her hands off in the hose and did her best to clean up. At least the plants didn't need fertilizing right now, there would be no getting that smell off without a proper shower. Once she was cleaned up as much as she could, Harriet walked away from her relatives home, not realizing it would be the last time she stepped foot there.
—-
Harry had only been on the public transportation in Little Whinging just once before, so while the experience wasn't completely novel, she was still a bag of nerves the entire time. She had taken her savings of found pence and quid left in the wash and stuffed into her cot mattress with her, the only money and real possessions she had to her name. She lost herself in her thoughts of her interaction with the guardian spirit the night before while she waited for the bus to take her to London.
"Once you arrive at the Leaky Cauldron, be on the lookout. I am only a guardian spirit, so unfortunately my knowledge is limited. I gather what I can from the minds of those who choose to share when they come before me. What I do know, is that your parents death was no accident, and there will be those who are looking for you. I will do my best to send along someone to help, but I can only direct from the background, not outright as much as I wish I could."
Harry pulled her sunhat down to cover her scars and nervously tucked her hair behind her ears. Harry knew she was nothing special to look at, but people found it hard not to stare once they did. She hated the looks of pity that would flash across their faces, it was one of the many reasons she preferred the company of books than those of her peers.
Her aunt and uncle had told her the scars on her face and body were from the car crash that had killed her drunken parents, but now Harriet was beginning to suspect that perhaps her relatives had lied to her about that. If her mother was a witch, then surely Aunt Petunia knew. Everything in Harry's short miserable life began to come together the more she thought about her treatment at the hands of her "family". They had given her their own scars to add to the collection. Since she had been working in the yard that day, she wore a long sleeve button up and a pair of baggy carpenter jeans, both hand-me-downs from Dudley and several sizes too large for her small frame. She was taller than most girls her age, but built more lithe and boney. Not to mention the white sun hat she wore, something that her aunt had given her once she realized letting her get crisped by the sun doing yard work was bad form from the neighbors.
The bus gave a great lurch, and pulled into the station that Harry was waiting for. She pulled her hat brim down a little and made her way off the bus and towards the Leaky Cauldron. Or at least, she hoped so. The spirit wasn't exactly very specific, seeing as they had never actually been to modern London.
Harry walked for a bit on the street heading west, when she felt a soft warmness embrace her, like an invisible hug.
[MAGICAL DISTRICT DETECTED NEARBY. ENTERING MUGGLE REPELLING WARD.]
Harriet tensed, and started paying closer attention to her surroundings. A dark and dingy pub on the corner ahead caught her eye, and as she watched a man and a woman dressed in long strange robes and…yup..a pointed hat, walked out. This had to be the place, although Harry was starting to suspect a prank, she couldn't believe a real witch would wear one of those silly hats. Regardless, Harry waited a moment and then entered the pub after they left it.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, and when she did she spotted that most of the eyes of the patrons in the pub were upon her Thankfully, it was only about half a dozen people. Early morning on a Sunday in the middle of the hottest summer they have had in years must be a slow time for the pub.
[WELCOME TO THE LEAKY CAULDRON, USER! SINCE IT IS YOUR FIRST TIME, TO ACCESS DIAGON ALLEY PLEASE SPEAK TO THE BARKEEP.]
Harry turned to the bar to see a bald man with bad teeth give her a friendly smile. He had a yellow glowing orb above his head.
[OTHERS WHO ARE IMPORTANT TO YOUR CURRENT OBJECTIVES WILL BE MARKED WITH THE ORBS IN VARIOUS COLORS TO INDICATE THEIR USEFULNESS. ONLY THE USER CAN SEE OBJECTIVE ORBS.]
Harry gave a small smile back and walked to the barkeep.
"Uhh..hello..umm.."
"Need help into the 'alley eh? First trip? Names Tom, I am happy to help."
Harry gave a short nod to the man.
"Shy one aren't ya. Well, come on. Entrance is this way." Tom led Harry to the walkway to the side of the bar and to the deadend brick wall.
"This 'ere is the entrance, and your guide should be able to help you from 'ere," Tom said and left her without another word or even a glance back.
[TO ACCESS DIAGON ALLEY, TAP THE BRICK WITH YOUR DOMINANT HAND.]
A glowing brick directly ahead of Harry called to her, and she placed her palm onto it. Slowly, the bricks dissolved and Harry stood at the entrance of the most amazing shopping district she had ever seen in her entire life.
[WELCOME TO DIAGON ALLEY, USER! PLEASE PROCEED TO GRINGOTTS, THE WHITE BUILDING AT THE END OF THE STREET.]
And with that, Harry set off to claim her destiny.
[END PROLOGUE]