Let the Games Begin
Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Recommended Reads: Mystique Soldier by Robs511, The Overpowered Gamer by PercyPendragon3, Trickshot, Hydrus Black and Silver King by JustBored21, Harry Potter and the Power of the Gamer by Legend of the Kyuubi, Harry Potter the Mutant Obscurus Gamer by GnomeBob, Gamer Potter: A Fighting Chance by fred2008, Harry Potter: The Mage's Path by GamerFiction, Gamer Neighbour by Hawk, The Rise of the Last Potter by HPfanfictioner66, The Unknown Power by La Monserga, Harry Potter and the Hermetic Arts, Harry Potter and the Physical Adept and Harry Potter and the Runecraft of the Norns by HaikenEdge and The Illusive Mage by The Dark Wolf Shiro
Key Pairing: Eventual Harry/TBD
Other Pairings: To be determined
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
'Mental Speech'
/Parseltongue/
{Gamer HUD}
Review Answers:
JustBored21: Here's hoping you and other favourite readers are still saying this as the story progresses, old friend;
WhiteElfElder: There's a good reason for that: see below;
BMS: See below
Let-The-Games-Begin
ALSO:
To everyone who pointed out that Harry, being a baby, wouldn't be able to understand what was happening, let me stress that the Harry who responded to the activation of the Gamer Power wasn't Harry physically, but spiritually.
When he 'died' from the cold, the Gamer pulled him into himself and it was his true spirit that reacted to the Gamer;
If it helps, think of it as being similar to the opening of the Pokémon games – ironic given what's about to be released – when you have to decide your character look, name and rival etc.
And so, by the time Dumbledore realised his plans were already screwed, it would be way too late.
Because, by then, a new game would begin…
Literally!
Level One: Ready, Player One
Number Four, Privet Drive.
At first glance, it seemed to be just as ordinary and homey as any other house on the street, in the small village of Little Whinging, Surrey; like many of its neighbouring houses, Number Four had pristine, well-kept gardens, clean, gleaming glass windows, a finely-painted fence – white-picket, at that – and a new car in the driveway, indicating success and good fortune for those who lived there.
Oh, and what a menagerie of different beings lived there…
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There was Mrs Petunia Fiona Dursley, formerly Evans; a tall, gaunt-looking woman whom many often said – behind closed doors and twitching net curtains – could have passed for a horse with her bony features, long face and thin frame.
Next, was Mr Vernon Richard Dursley and, unlike his wife, Vernon was about as thin as fire was cold and wet: it just wasn't even worth saying it.
Unlike Petunia, Vernon was fat, bordering on morbidly obese, and his many chins seemed to have assimilated any and all signs of a neck keeping his head on his shoulders. With his walrus-like moustache, often-times loud voice and faith in anything and everything concerning his family – while anything else could go take a long walk off of a very short pier – Vernon was not only extremely fat; he was also something of a target for gossip, particularly from those who wondered how someone so huge-bellied could still be breathing, moving and able to appear somewhat-normal.
Finally, there was Dudley Harry Dursley – an ironic name, given who else lived with the family – and, while he wasn't as thin as his Mummy, he was also not quite yet as fat as his Father. However, with the way his waistline grew year-in-and-year-out, he was definitely on his way and, to the chagrin of many of the neighbours, Dudley was also a spoilt, pampered, overcompensating bully of a boy who could turn the crocodile tears on and off as quickly as turning a tap.
Frankly, the inhabitants of Little Whinging, specifically Privet Drive, found themselves wondering how, if it was even possible, the family could be any more unusual or the source of whispers and rumours.
Then, one fated November morning, a fourth person joined the house.
Harry James Potter, the orphaned son of Petunia's sister – a woman whom Petunia herself had often sworn blind didn't exist at all – and a black sheep in the family, at least as far as the Dursleys were concerned.
With his wild, unkempt black hair, bright, often-shining emerald-green eyes, as well as a mysterious lightning bolt scar on his forehead, the boy was something of an enigma in the village.
If only they knew…
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{CONGRATULATIONS: Birthday Rank Increased: Level 6 Achieved!}
{New Perk Unlocked: Magical Tamer!}
{INT, CHR, STR, PSTR, MSTR, DEX, DEF, ATK, END, AGL, MC, STM Ranks All Increased By 6 Points!}
As the words flitted across the backs of his closed eyelids, Harry allowed himself a small smile as he breathed his first breaths as a now-six-year-old boy, before he coughed heavily as that same breath forced him to inhale a cloud of newly-lain dust in the cupboard under the stairs.
Opening his eyes, Harry sighed softly before he pulled himself to a sitting position, where he reached up and pulled on the cord that turned on the light, bringing life and light into the cupboard under the stairs. The same cupboard that had been his bedroom ever since he could remember, since, apparently, his relatives didn't have space to house a second boy, not even family.
This was the excuse that Harry had been told by Uncle Vernon when he asked why he didn't have a room like Dudley; in any other time or place, such a question might have also been followed by a beating or a round of deafening roars.
But not this time nor this place.
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Instead, while Harry wasn't anywhere near as corpulent as his cousin, let alone anything even halfway close to being as obesely-life-threatening in size and girth as his Uncle, he had always been given enough food and drink to help him grow. He also had a very strange, if not amusing love-hate sort of relationship going on with his family.
They tolerated him, yes, and, like any kid, he did his fair share of chores, but, unlike Dudley, Harry was also made to feel like he was sometimes a part of the family that the Dursleys preferred didn't exist, but he did and so, if only for appearances' sake, they made him feel somewhat welcome.
Every birthday they remembered, though he didn't get as many gifts as Dudley, and when Christmas came around, Santa Claus left him a few small knickknacks and, if he was fortunate, maybe even a new outfit or some other thing that a growing boy needed. He also had the same food, but in smaller portions, and was given time to study like most other kids his age; he even gained a privilege to go off for runs through the park, as well as bike rides, after his Aunt generously bought him a fairly-stable second-hand bicycle for doing so well at school.
So, while the Dursleys didn't hate Harry, per se, they also didn't favour or smother him either.
Instead, it was almost as though they expected him to learn how to look after himself, if not stand on his own two feet.
And, to be perfectly honest, it was a lesson that Harry was more than willing to embrace.
After all, there was one part of his life that even his caring, if not civil-minded family were blissfully unaware of.
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Harry called it Spectre.
He'd found the name in a book about ghostly messages and happenings and, when he'd found a message following it, he decided that this was what he would call the strange messages that often flashed before his eyes, if not through his mind whenever he was alone, or having achieved something he didn't know what, much less how he'd done it.
Ever since he'd been found by the shriek of his Aunt, Spectre had been there: sometimes, it made random remarks using words and phrases that seemed familiar to Harry, like a dream he couldn't quite remember, whereas other times, like every year thus far on his birthday, it gave him a list of strangely-worded information that, for some strange reason, made Harry feel better.
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When he'd been younger, Spectre had delivered such messages to him like…
{NEW QUEST: Learn to read and write your name!
DIFFICULTY: Novice
REWARD: 10 Points Added to INT!}
This particular task took Harry a week, but, by the end of it, Spectre returned with a new message…
{QUEST COMPLETED: Learn to read and write your name!
INT Rank increased by 10 Points!
ADDED PERK UNLOCKED: Eidetic Memory!}
At the time, Harry hadn't known what eidetic memory had meant, but soon, he found out, if not assumed when, from time to time, he found himself able to recall anything and everything he'd read, including Spectre's strange messages, without needing to try too hard.
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On another occasion, Spectre had delivered a message right when Harry was about to run home during a particularly-cold, not to mention terrible snowstorm when he was four years old.
{NEW QUEST: Reach Safehouse without slipping on snow or ice!
DIFFICULTY: Apprentice
REWARD: 25% Boost to AGL, DEX and PSTR!}
Sadly, on that occasion, Harry had slipped, nearly breaking his arm when he'd crashed into a wall, which had Spectre communicating again.
{QUEST FAILED: Reach Safehouse without slipping on snow or ice!
PENALTY: 5% Decrease in Environmental Resistance for 24 Hours!}
As Spectre said it, so too did Harry feel it and, as a result, he caught a bad cold and chest infection, which meant he'd had to miss two days of school while Aunt Petunia fed him soup and kept him bundled up, albeit in his cupboard under the stairs.
Twenty-four hours later, however, Spectre was back.
{Environmental Resistance Penalty Expired!
Nourishment Perk Activated: STR, DEX, DEF, AGL and PSTR increased by 50% for 48 hours!}
What it meant, Harry didn't know.
But when he went back to school much faster than normal, he didn't look a gift horse in the mouth.
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On his sixth birthday, however, as he felt Spectre's presence fade once its strange messages had been delivered, the young boy gulped hard before, holding out a hand, as though he intended to grab the words out of thin air, he called, "No, wait! Please, Spectre!"
Silence followed his words, earning a sad sigh from Harry as he grasped his fist at empty air.
Wishing with all his heart and soul that he could actually talk to Spectre and his strange communicating friend-slash-companion would hear him.
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"Happy birthday, Harry."
"Thank you, Aunt Petunia," said Harry, accepting his birthday breakfast – a small stack of freshly-flipped pancakes with fruit and syrup – before, looking to his Aunt, he asked, "Any cards from school?"
"No," said Uncle Vernon, moving into the kitchen, snatching a pint-pot-sized-mug of black coffee from the unit nearest the door as he did so before, moving towards the table, he added, "But there was this unusual parcel waiting outside this morning: you haven't been trying to spoil our nice family relationship, have you, Potter?"
"No sir," said Harry, a part of him hurt, as he often felt, whenever his Uncle referred to him as Potter instead of using his name like Petunia and Dudley were known to do.
"Mmm," grumbled Vernon, sitting down before he set the parcel on the table between him and his nephew; it was a simple-looking parcel, really.
A square cube of a box, which was no bigger than a shoebox, wrapped in ordinary-looking brown paper, with an envelope that, to Harry's disbelief, had already been opened, but the parcel remained untouched.
When he caught his nephew looking, Vernon scoffed as he explained, "Had to make sure some nosy freak wasn't trying to get to us through you, now, didn't I? Waste of time and effort, really: all that was in there was a card, filled with a load of gibberish. Take it, Potter; go to your room to open it. Whatever's inside, I don't want to know or hear any more about it, understood?"
"Yes sir."
Leaving his breakfast half-eaten, and strongly suspecting he wasn't going to get the chance to finish when he came back, Harry went to his cupboard, clicking the light on again before, closing the cupboard door, he sat down and, carefully, he opened the parcel.
To his surprise, when he opened the parcel, Harry found a small box, which looked like it might be used to hold a spherical treasure, as well as a medium-sized book with a seven-pointed star on the front cover. There wasn't much else on the book, while the box seemed to have a single green light shining on the top-most panel, while the other five sides were blank, and a weird shade of darkest-blue in colour.
"What?" asked Harry.
As soon as he said it, his eyes widened when, suddenly, the light on the box grew brighter before it rose up, forming an eerie, ghostly shape, which seemed to resemble a robed, hooded figure, who looked at Harry – or so he guessed – before a soft voice spoke to him.
"Greetings, Novice Potter: if this box and the enclosed Codex have reached you on the day of the sixth ascension of your life levels, then the time has come for you to take the next step in the life and path of the Gamers. By now, you will have realised that you are not like other boys and girls your age and, apart from the obvious parts of that statement, you couldn't be any more right if you tried."
"Huh?" asked Harry, earning a soft chuckle from the image before their voice spoke again.
"I assume you're confused: well, allow me to clear up the confusion…you, Novice Potter, are not alone in the world of Gamers; if you wish to know more, you will know what to say. However, as with the previous choice you made, know that this one is all-or-nothing: say yes and your journey into the realm of all like you will truly begin…but decline, and all perks and powers grafted onto you by the Gamer Magick will be revoked, and you shall be left alone to face the consequences alone! What do you decide, Novice Potter?"
For a moment, Harry felt confusion, but, unlike the last time, this time, he could ask the right questions;
"Are you talking about Spectre?"
"Yes," said the image, smiling with a hint of amusement as their apparition spoke to Harry. "An interesting name for your Magick, Novice Potter, but I shall say no more than that…now, your answer?"
Once again, Harry felt like he was left without a choice.
Besides, he did say he wanted to know more about Spectre, so…what else could he say?
"Yes."
The green flash filled the cupboard under the stairs.
But, curiously, the Dursleys didn't seem affected by it, nor were they any the wiser as to the sudden disappearance of their charge and nephew.
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Fire.
That was the first thing Harry saw when he felt solid ground under his feet again.
To his surprise, he found himself standing in a large, circular room, with low-burning blue flames held in torch brackets all around him; on the floor beneath his feet, Harry saw the same seven-pointed star from the book – or Codex, as he remembered – while, when he looked up, he saw the figure from the cube now standing not three feet from him.
Now he could see them, Harry noticed the stranger had a slender appearance, with an almost hourglass-like physique and, underneath the hood, he could also make out raven-black hair that seemed to have a few silvery tufts here and there.
As he stared at the stranger, Harry saw them step forwards before they lowered their hood…
Revealing a very beautiful, but also curious-looking lady with pearlescent skin, eyes that were brighter than the stars themselves and a smile that seemed to be one-part relief and one-part contentment. When they reached Harry, the woman took his chin in her fingers, lifting his eyes to meet hers before she hummed contentedly.
"So young, you are…and yet, your potential is limitless…I see now why the Magicks chose you to be one of us, my child."
"Us?" asked Harry warily, earning a nod from the woman as he asked, "Who…who are you, Miss?"
Smiling again, the woman released his chin before she kneeled down, so that she was looking into Harry's eyes, as she answered his question;
"My name is Perenelle Flamel, young Harry-child: Legendary-Class Gamer Sorceress, Mistress of the Magicks Chosen Ones and, from this day forth, as sexist or prejudiced as it may sound, I am also…your Master, my young Apprentice…and I have so much to teach you…"
Chapter 1 and, blimey, talk about changes coming around as Harry grows older: not only has he advanced in his strange new life, but now, he also seems to have found out he is not alone in this strangeness, but what could Perenelle want with him?
What, exactly, is the aide that Harry calls Spectre? Who or what are Magicks Chosen Ones and what does it mean for Harry himself?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Perenelle fills in a few blanks for Harry, whilst giving him his first real lesson in the Gamer power inside of him;
Please Read and Review
AN: Portrayal
Perenelle Flamel: Sigourney Weaver
AN2: Acronyms
So, here are a few more acronyms and their explanations:
ATK – Attack Level – Like strength, it affects the power of Harry's offensive natures, including the force of his magic and non-magical strikes; can also be used to increase STR when attacking without weapons;
END – Endurance Level – Affects the amount of resistance Harry has to physical, magical, environmental and even emotional assaults: a higher level means less chance of being influenced by negative factors – e.g. Fear/Fright, Anxiety/Confusion etc.
AGL – Agility Level – Affects Harry's overall speed and ability to dodge attacks and work around obstacles between him and his goals; a higher agility level can also grant the CHARACTER the traits of Free Running and Parkour for ease of access and balance in long-term runs and obstacle courses;
STM – Stamina Level – Affects how long Harry can go without tiring: a higher Stamina level means less chance of becoming too tired from physical/magical exhaustion, long-hour waking periods and offensive/defensive attacks and tasks
AN3: Added Info
In this story, tasks, and Gamers, are ranked in six different categories:
NOVICE
APPRENTICE
ADEPT
EXPERT
MASTER
LEGENDARY
The higher the difficulty, the greater the reward, but also the greater the Penalty Cost for failure of tasks/quests
FURTHERMORE: Harry is going to get a full description of his perks, skills and other such rewards thus far in the next chapter, so if anything's confusing you, hold on…for now;
AN4: Advice
Now, I'd like to thank you all for your support and advice on the story and theme: as always, any further encouragement or advice is welcome.