DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER
PLEASE SUPPORT THE OFFICIAL RELEASE!
|CHAPTER 1
It took him a few days to fully come to terms with the reality of his situation. Whenever "Aunt" Petunia or "Uncle" Dursley—and whoa was it strange to say those names!—demanded that he start doing his chores again, he feigned illness and they left him alone. But he knew his respite wouldn't last much longer, not that he needed it to.
He spent a day trying to remember just what the hell had happened to him. He had existed, alive and well, within another body, another life!
And now, here he was!
Living in the body of Harry fucking Potter!
It felt almost similar to a Polyjuice Potion experience, except, unlike the effects of the potion, he possessed all of Harry's memories embedded within his mind.
Harry fucking Potter's memories!
Just a few days ago, his Third Year at Hogwarts had drawn to a close, and upon returning to Little Whinging, Petunia wasted no time subjecting him to relentless chores, working him like a dog.
While Dudely sat, his fat ass glued to the couch, engrossed in television and indulging in ice cream, Harry found himself engaged in a ceaseless cycle of cleaning—mopping floors, polishing windows, tending to lawns, trimming flower beds, and even attempting to wash the car. He had done all of it beneath the scorching sun, its blazing rays searing the back of his neck, hot enough to cause heatstroke.
That was the pain that had greeted him upon his "arrival" into this newfound existence. Which was also strange to say because it sounded completely insane.
Miraculously, he managed to maintain composure, cautiously treading to avoid any further eruptions of "accidental magic."
After all, he was only 13 years old, still bound by the effects of the Trace.
The Trace—a charm enabling the Ministry to detect magic performed in the vicinity of underage wizards and witches below seventeen years of age. Whenever magical activities unfolded near an underage individual, the Improper Use of Magic Office within the Ministry of Magic was alerted, noting the spell employed, the caster's location, and the time of casting. In layman's terms, the charm allowed the Ministry to monitor almost all underage magic, a practice deemed unlawful under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery.
Or was he?
He remembered that Harry had already gotten in trouble once because of the Trace. Right before he started his second year at Hogwarts when Dobby had been trying to save his life. It hadn't been long after Dobby cast the Hover Charm that a Ministry Owl swooped into Number 4 Privet Drive, delivering a letter of warning from Mafalda Hopkirk. The absence of any owl sightings made Harry curious. It wasn't like he could have missed it if an owl did arrive. If one of the Durselys had found the letter...well, one could imagine the uproar. Harry was sure people across the pond would have heard Vernon's thunderous screams echoing in the distance.
Could it be a consequence of my situation? Harry wondered as he settled on his cot. He still retained all the memories of Harry Potter, accumulated over thirteen years. Yet, he also possessed memories of being Harry Not Potter, effectively placing him mentally well beyond the age of seventeen.
So maybe the Trace charm isn't tracked by someone's physiological age, but rather their psychological maturity?
Harry shook his head. He'd have to wait and see, but for now, he'd act with the assumption that the Trace was still active. Which meant no more magic, accidental or otherwise, and that meant no more panicking.
I think I'm done with that anyway, Harry decided. Once the initial shock subsided, a remarkable sense of calm settled within him.
He owed this newfound composure to fanfiction.
Being an avid reader, fanfiction had become his guilty pleasure. He was well aware of the judgment often cast upon it, yet those who looked down upon fanfiction were the same people that wouldn't have a problem praising the MCU to high-heaven. Conveniently forgetting that the entire franchise was just cinematic adaptations of comic books, which were essentially live-action fanfiction of the original works.
The hypocrisy was astounding.
Fanfiction had primed him for this very moment. He had read dozens of stories revolving around unsuspecting individuals being transported into fictional realms and still hadn't grown tired of them.
Self-insert stories practically epitomized wish fulfillment, but he enjoyed them for that very reason.
Not every story had to have Oscar-level drama. Such stories were good too, of course, but sometimes it was fun to just read a story about a certified winner. Where everything seemed to fall into place and the MC got to live his best life.
It was these stories that kept him grounded, preventing his sanity from spiraling into oblivion...
...well, at least not completely, anyway.
"Shit..." he groaned, teetering dangerously forward on the cot, narrowly avoiding a face-first tumble.
The physical pain resulting from the flood of memories wasn't the only thing he was dealing with. He wrestled with the overwhelming task of deciphering the jumble of information currently threatening to turn his brain into mush.
A series of books.
That's what this world had been to him, for the entirety of his existence until a few days ago. Books focused on Harry Potter and his seven-year-long battle against Voldemort.
Oh, how he wished to be a mere background character within those pages. Free to wander and do as he pleased.
To be anyone other than Harry fucking Potter, burdened with the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders. Even if he were to flee Britain, he doubted Voldemort would forget about the boy who possessed the "power he knows not."
Oddly enough, Harry found himself somewhat grateful for the splitting headache. It prevented him from spiraling into a frenzy of panic and existential crisis. The physical agony provided a tangible focal point. And amidst the pain, he found perspective. It helped him come to the realization that he didn't actually care that he was now living in the wizarding world.
Instead, he focused on what his meta-knowledge could do for him.
When summer was over, he would return to Hogwarts as a Fourth Year. He'd also be taking part in the Triwizard Tournament, an event marking Voldemort's resurrection and Cedric Diggory's tragic death. Harry planned on saving Cedric, but he was definitely going to allow Voldemort's return.
The Dark Fucks usage of my new blood for his revival is going to strengthen the protection from Lily's Charm on this body, anchoring me to the realm of the living, Harry smiled, enjoying the idea of being unkillable.
It was an enticing prospect—effectively achieving immortality.
He could even destroy Voldemort's physical body again after he was revived, but preserve one of the Horcruxes to extend his immortality!
Then he could spend the next three years at Hogwarts learning Spells and shagging witches!
And after graduation, he could become an Auror, a relentless scourge on the dark wizards and witches of the wizarding world—an Auror incapable of perishing!
Despite his throbbing headache, Harry was beginning to feel pretty good about things now and when finally stepped out of the cupboard there was a smile on his lips.
Making his way through the Dursleys' house, Harry passed the kitchen where the three Dursleys sat at the table, engrossed in their own worlds. None of them bothered to acknowledge his presence as he stood in the doorway, watching Petunia slicing a grapefruit into quarters, her lips pursed over her horse-like teeth.
That's right, fat-fuck is supposed to be on a diet, Harry thought, recalling that in the books, Dudley had been put on a diet due to his size. Smelting hadn't sold Knickerbockers large enough for him.
The letter must have arrived while he was still locked in the cupboard because Harry had definitely seen the fat-fuck stuffing his face this summer in his memories. He couldn't help but smirk at the sour look in Dudley's piggy little eyes as he stared at the grapefruit before he made his way upstairs.
Harry was glad Dudley was having a shitty summer. And it was only going to get worse. The old Harry Potter might have let Dudley treat him like a punching bag, but I won't.
The next time Dudley attempted to bully him, Harry was putting the fat fuck on his fat ass. And if Vernon, the even fatter fuck, dared to test him, Harry'd put him in his place too.
He was an equal opportunist like that.
Once he made it up to the tiny bedroom the Dursleys had "graciously" provided him, his expression immediately soured at the sight before him.
Hedwig's cage had been padlocked, and it looked like his room had been ransacked.
What the fuck?
As Harry searched the room, he was quick to realize what happened while he was locked in the cupboard. Only his "magical" possessions were missing, leaving him with his regular clothes (which were just the fat-fuck's old clothes) and non-magical school books from before he started attending Hogwarts.
His spellbooks, wand, robes, and cauldron had all been stolen.
"Fuck that!" Harry exclaimed in frustration.
The Quidditch World Cup was a little less than two months away. Without access to any kind of magic, there was no way Harry would be ready for the Death Eater attack that was going to happen after the game.
In a fit of anger, he stomped over to Hedwig's cage, seizing the padlock and he was about to try and twist it off with brute strength.
To his surprise, the lock effortlessly came off as if it hadn't been locked at all.
Huh, more wandless magic? Harry shrugged and said fuck it, deciding to embrace the accidental magic. If he was still under the Trace, then the Ministry could send him as many warnings as they wanted. He wasn't about to waste his summer because the Durselys were a family of fuckheads.
Now free, Hedwig flew out of her cage and perched on the headboard of his bed.
"Don't worry, girl," Harry reassured her, walking over to the small desk in the corner. "You're going to have the chance to spread your wings."
He tore a page out of one of his old notebooks from muggle-school notebooks and hastily scribbled a message to Sirius.
Meet me at the entrance to platform 9 3/4 a week from now.
Harry tied the letter to Hedwig's foot and opened his bedroom window. "Can you take this to Sirius?"
Hedwig gave him an indignant look, hooting her disapproval at his questioning her abilities, before she took flight, flying out of the window and disappearing into the sky. Harry watched her until she was nothing but a speck in the sky before closing the window and making his way downstairs to confront the Dursleys.
While two months might not seem like a long time, in the wizarding world with access to all kinds of potions, there was a lot you could get done in a short amount of time.
At its core, muscle building was a relatively straightforward process. To stimulate muscle growth, you needed to apply a stress load greater than what your body or muscles had previously adapted to.
Simple enough.
However, time was the issue. Building muscle was a slow process because the human body needed time to recover and heal. Lucky for me, I no longer have to work within the bounds of normal science! Harry thought with a smile.
Between all the healing potions and energy-enhancing potions he planned on buying, he would be on the equivalent of super-steroids. He wouldn't have to wait for his body to naturally heal and regenerate. The moment he pushed his muscles past their limits, he could drink a potion and immediately heal any damage done. Then he could take an energy-enhancing potion and get right back to work.
Over and over and over.
He would be able to compress months' worth of training into a few weeks!
But that'll only be possible with magical help, Harry glared at the Dursleys as he entered the kitchen.
"Where'd you put my stuff?"
Although Harry heard his own words, it seemed as if the Dursleys hadn't even registered his presence, let alone his question. He knew he had spoken the words, but the Dursleys hadn't reacted at all.
It was like he hadn't spoken at all.
Harry scowled and walked up to Vernon. He grabbed the newspaper the fat man was reading and pushed it down revealing his uncle's large red face.
"Where. Is. My. Stuff."
"Who do you—" Vernon appeared livid and began to retort, but Harry interrupted him, asserting his authority.
"I've already been up to my room. I know you've stolen all my magical—"
Vernon's expression twisted with indignation, reacting as if Harry had uttered something repugnant. His anger erupted, and he abruptly rose from his chair, shaking with anger. "How many times do I have to tell you not to mention that unnaturalness under my roof?" he seethed, his face turning an even deeper shade of red.
"I don't care. I need my wand if I'm going to meet Sirius. You know...my godfather."
Vernon's pupils contracted with fear upon hearing Sirius' name, and Harry didn't bother hiding his satisfaction as the fat man stuttered.
"Y-you've written him, have you?"
"Well, yeah," Harry replied casually. "It's been a while since he heard from me. We're supposed to be meeting in two weeks, and if I don't show up and he doesn't hear from me...well he might start thinking something's wrong and come check."
He stopped there to enjoy the effect of these words. A faint spasm crossed the fat fucks large purple face and his mustache bristled. Harry knew the conflict going on behind that mustache—a struggle between Vernon's deep-rooted aversion to Harry's happiness and the fear of Sirius showing up at their house if he didn't return Harry's belongings or allow the meeting to take place.
Giving Harry his belongings back would make Harry happy, something Vernon had struggled against for thirteen years. On the other hand, if he didn't give Harry his wand back and refused to let him meet his godfather, then Sirius might show up at their house and cause a scene.
"I put it all in the basement," Vernon finally said, the words grinding out from between clenched teeth.
Harry smiled and stepped back, motioning toward the basement with his arm. He was sure if that's where his belonging were then the door was triple-locked shut so he couldn't get in.
"Lead the way, Uncle."
The second chapter is up!
Harry has accepted his new lot in life and is now making plans!
PS. I will be using potions and spells from some of the Harry Potter games too! So if you don't recognize them from the books or movies that's why!
Sorry for the long wait! I'm hoping to be able to update more frequently from now on!
Feel free to leave a review if you want!
AND THANK YOU FOR READING!