Harry blinked and found himself inside a car. In the background, he could hear Hedwig's screeches and his uncles grumbling over the noisy bird. It took him a minute to process what was happening. He stared outside and saw some people walking by the street, birds flying in the sky, and kids goofing around the area. He was back, he was finally out.

Harry didn't know whether he wanted to cry or laugh at the situation. He ended up doing both; he bawled his eyes out and released wet chuckles that startled Vernon. His uncle looked at him as if he had gone nuts but didn't comment, not wanting to get infected by his craziness. Everything felt like a dream—a nightmare he woke up from. Yet the earrings on his hand and the stitching on his arm say otherwise.

Right now, nothing matters. Harry was happy he made it out in one piece.

"Boy, shut the hell up! Your crying is making that damn bird noisy!" His uncle shouted, not taking his eyes off the street.

Harry stared at the fuming Vernon—his face was clear of mosaics and inhumane features. It wasn't an imposter, it was his real asshole uncle. Harry doesn't know how to feel about this; he killed the Dursleys at least once and watched them die multiple times—especially Dudley.

He doesn't think he can handle being with the Dursleys after that—but where will he go?

Harry wiped the tears away and calmed Hedwig down. He glanced at the earrings and kept them in his pocket, unable to wear them since he did not have his ears pierced. After a while, the car parked in front of the Surrey. Harry was anxious about getting out of the car but reminded himself that he wasn't in the 'Door'. He took his luggage out and stood in front of the door—it was a normal door that opened inside the house. Harry took a deep breath and entered.

Harry cringed at the sight of Petunia and Dudley greeting Vernon. Just like his uncle, neither of them had mosaics or inhumane faces.

"Oh right, boy, you can have Dudley's second bedroom. You better be grateful that we are offering you a room. If it were me, you would've stayed in the cupboard, but I don't want freaks coming in here and protesting about your living situation, Petunia said in disdain, clearly not wanting to have anything to do with him. Dudley gave him a dirty eye for stealing his bedroom.

"Y-yes, Aunt Petunia…"

"Also, chores will start tomorrow. Don't think you can start acting lazy now." Harry just nodded.

Harry avoided eye contact and quickly brought his luggage with him upstairs to his new bedroom. He didn't know how to act around the Dursleys at all. He felt awkward just standing beside them. Sure, he still hated them, but not enough to want bloodshed. Harry released a sigh and hugged Hedwig's cage.

"I thought things would get easier now that I'm out… I guess I was too optimistic. Hedwig, what should I do?" Hedwig hooted and stared at him. Harry chuckled and gave Hedwig a boop in the nose. He didn't realize how much he missed his owl—he was too caught up in the chaos to even think about her. Harry gave a quick inspection of the room and found it decent enough.

Harry carefully placed her cage on top of the empty drawer, then took his trunk and placed it beside the empty cabinet. After organizing some of his stuff, he sat on the old mattress and took out the silver earrings.

"Now where do I put this in the meantime?" He knows it's a precious item, so he doesn't want it lying around somewhere. In the end, Harry opened his trunk and placed it by the invisibility cloak. He didn't expect the cloak to get absorbed by the earrings.

"Oi! What the heck, spit it out!" Just as he commanded, the cloak got spat out of the earring. He sweatdropped. Harry placed the cloak near the earrings, and it was absorbed again. He tried testing it on his other stuff and brought the earring closer, but they didn't get absorbed. "What? How?" His face was filled with confusion.

"Is the cloak related to the scythe or something?" No one answered. Harry realized how much he had been talking to himself lately. He brushed that off and thought that yes, the cloak and the scythe must've been related to each other.

"If so, then the cloak must've been Death's…" Harry paused for a bit. "DAMN IT DEATH! GIVE ME A MANUAL OR SOMETHING!" There was no bell chime or rattling voices from before. Harry was starting to hate Death more and more.

"BRAT, STOP WITH THE RUCKUS!" Vernon shouted from downstairs.

—

It took Harry a week and a half to reintegrate himself back into normality. He had a couple of nightmares now and then about the door, but it wasn't enough to hinder his days. He stopped treading around the Dursleys like a walking eggshell and his urges to grab a knife for protection. The latter was especially hard for him to do. He often found himself staring at the blades and looking for them when he found himself annoyed with the Dursleys.

During the week, Harry found that the thread on his arm disappears when the wound is fully healed—scars are nowhere to be found. He was in awe at the speedy recovery and praised magic for its miracles and wonder. He, fortunately, didn't find the need to use it again since he has yet to sustain fatal injuries like before. Whenever he got cuts and bruises on his body, his magic automatically healed him without his commands. It was handy since it trained his magic, but he needed to keep a low profile when using magic around muggles. By the end of the week, he had gained control over his healing skills and kept them to a minimum.

Speaking of magic, he forced himself to read his past textbooks and learn more spells, but he was pretty sure that only 1/4 of what he had read was retained. Harry tried using his wand too, but he got a warning from the government, which was a surprise since he casted spells wandless multiple times already, but not once did he receive a warning. In the end, Harry stuck to wandless casting to prevent expulsion from Hogwarts—oh, the terror.

He had yet to find a way to pierce his ears since he wasn't allowed to go out of the household unless buying groceries. Normally he wouldn't care about being holed up in the house, but after the 'Door', Harry found himself seeking to go out. It may have been because most of the events took place in this house. Another reason is that he didn't want to sit still the whole summer—he needed to prepare himself for the second door. Maybe he should try harder next school year too—Hermione would like that.

Which reminds him, Harry hasn't gotten the chance to contact them at all. Even if he did, he wouldn't know what to tell them. He remembered the system's warning about non-players finding out about the doors, and he didn't dare to find out if it was true. He may be a Gryffindor, but he won't risk his friend's life for the sake of curiosity. In the end, Harry waited for them to send a letter first, but none ever came.

In mid-July, Harry confronted the Dursleys.

—

"Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, there's something I want to talk about," Harry said politely during breakfast.

"Tch, what is it now, brat? Just because you've got a room, you suddenly want to ask more, is that it?" Vernon spat.

"Well, no, but yes–"

"Ungrateful wench, you don't get to ask for anything. We already gave you a roof to live under, food to feed yourself, and now you want more?" Petunia said fiercely while she slammed her palm against the table. Dudley was giggling in the background, enjoying how Harry wasn't getting what he wanted. It was obvious that they did not want to hear Harry out, and Harry had already predicted this.

Harry sighed and brought out the earrings. 'I'll just give them a little scare. That's how people do business anyway.' The earrings transformed into a large scythe in Harry's hands. Dudley fell off his chair, and Petunia shrieked at the sight of the weapon. "Hol' on now, boy, don't do anything impulsive." his uncle tried negotiating even though his whole body was trembling in fear.

"S-so you'll finally hear me out?" Vernon earnestly nodded at Harry. Harry gave a small cough to hide his stutter. 'Damn it, Harry, be more confident.'

"Then how about we make a deal?"

"Y-yeh, alright, I-we'll hear you out…"

"Glad to hear that, Uncle."

By now, Petunia and Dudley had hidden behind Vernon's large body for protection. Harry paid them no mind and continued his discussion with Vernon, the head of the family. He placed the scythe aside and leaned on it to act threatening.

"Starting from now on, I will not do any of the chores or errands, and I am free to go out whenever I want." Petunia was about to protest something, but Vernon stopped her. Harry was glad that he was using his brain—he does not want to resort to violence. "In exchange, I will not bother you and your family, and you will rarely see me in this household. You can act as if I never existed." Harry finished with a smile. 'Let's hope that wasn't too demanding.'

Vernon didn't need to contemplate the answer. With the unspoken threat that loomed over his family, he was quick to answer. He immediately agreed to Harry's proposal and asked him to put away the weapon. Harry complied since he didn't need it anymore.

"Oh, by the way, can you give me some spare money?"

"You damn brat!"

—

Harry ended up getting a large amount of money. He wore a cap and sweater before calling a cab—the last thing he needed was to be flooded by fans in Diagon Alley. His cover wasn't the best, but it was enough to not look suspicious. Harry paid for the cab and was dropped off near the Leaky Cauldron. He tugged on his hat to make sure his scar was completely covered and entered the pub.

Harry blended with others who were in the pub. There were fewer people compared to when he first arrived here, but it was still lively. Harry scanned the area and saw a couple go to the courtyard. He followed behind the couple and waited for them to open the pathway. One of them tapped a pattern on the wall, which revealed Diagon Alley on the other side.

Instead of heading straight for his goal, Harry strolled around for a bit, wanting to enjoy his time. It's been a year since he went here, and that trip was a disaster. The place was overflowing with people due to the start of the school year. Many were running around the area to buy the supplies they needed for the year. Fortunately, the alley wasn't as crowded as before, so Harry wasn't dragged around by the crowd.

After a while, Harry went on his way to Gringgots—he needed to withdraw some money before he could do anything. He stood before a white building that towered over the structures nearby with a text saying 'GRINGGOTS BANK' on the entrance. He wasn't sure if he could withdraw money since he didn't have his key, but it was worth a try, right?

Harry nodded to himself and entered the bank. The goblins still intimidated Harry, so he quickly went to the goblin that Hagrid spoke to last time. The goblin raised a brow at the little boy in front of him.

"U-um, I would like to make a w-withdrawal from the Potter vault…" Way to go, Harry. Where did your confidence go?

"Key?"

"I-I don't have it…is there a way I can access it even without it? Is there like a D.N.A. test to prove I'm a Potter or something…? O-oh and also, I would like to request a key duplicate if that's possible" Harry rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.

"Hmph, extra charges for blood verification. Another payment for key duplication."

"I only have muggle money—is it possible to convert it to wizarding currency?" 'Ah, I'm gonna die from embarrassment before I even reach my second door.' He cried internally.

The goblin's eye twitched in irritation, and Harry couldn't help but fiddle with the hem of his clothes. Harry found the floor interesting to look at. The goblin, who introduced himself as Griphook, asked Harry to follow him. They went to another goblin who was in charge of converting muggle currency. Harry gave 65.00£ to the goblin and got 13 galleons in exchange. Griphook nodded at the money and started walking away. Harry presumed that he needed to follow, so he rushed to the goblin's side.

They entered a long corridor filled with uniform doors. It was barely populated, and the place was quiet at best. Harry had let his instincts get the best of him and immediately scanned the area for danger. There were goblin guards holding large halberds, scouting the area now and then, but other than that, the place was safe. Harry had to remind himself that he is safe, the bank is safe, and there is nothing out there wanting to kill him. Except maybe for Voldemort's followers.

Griphook opened a door that led to an office. Harry immediately felt the luxury of riches—couches were made of the highest quality leather, walls and floors were made of the finest marble, and expensive-looking vases and paintings decorated the room. There were two couches facing each other and a coffee table placed in between. Harry cautiously sat on the couch across from Griphook, not wanting to damage anything in the room. He ended up getting too distracted by the room to realize that Griphook had set up a porcelain bowl and a silver dagger on the table. There was a stack of paper beside the setup—one looked like a contract, and another was blank paper.

"Ehem, Mister Potter, please pay attention." Griphook looked pointedly at Harry, who just apologized.

"Drop a fair amount of your blood onto the bowl. Your identity will appear on this blank paper, revealing your origins. If ever you are not a Potter, security will be called upon you for further interrogation."

"And if I am a Potter, like I said I am?"

"Then you may proceed with the withdrawal. Of course, you need to sign a document first to keep a record of your withdrawal." Harry nodded in understanding. "Normally this wouldn't be needed since the key holds records of its usage, but since you do not have the key, we will need evidence that you took money from the vault legally."

'Oh, so that's why it was easy to enter the vaults last time.'

Harry held the knife over his palm and sliced it across. He didn't wince at the injury and just held his palm above the bowl. "That will be sufficient enough," Griphook commented, holding a clean towel and a potion for Harry's cut. "Thank you, sir, but I just need the towel." Griphook raised a brow at that. Harry showed his already-healed palm to the goblin, and Griphook looked surprised for a second. "It's not every day that I see youngsters like you perform wandless and wordless magic."

Harry just smiled at the compliment and wiped his palm on the given towel. Griphook took the paper and muttered something in Gobbledook. Harry watched in fascination as words appeared on the paper, blood draining from the bowl in the process. On the paper appeared his name, with the lines branching out to his deceased parents' names. With his identity proven, they proceeded with the signing of contracts and other extra procedures to get a copy of his vault key. Harry ended up paying with all of the galleons he had.

Griphook brought up the holder of the original key, which happened to be Dumbledore. Harry didn't know that the headmaster was his standing guardian and much more involved with his life—this was news to him. He should ask the grandmaster about it the next time he sees him. He asked the goblin to keep his visit a secret since he doesn't know the headmaster well enough—it doesn't hurt to be cautious. Harry sighed in relief when Griphook complied with his request.

Right when they were about to exit the office, Harry remembered that he had not brought a wallet. "Uhm… Sir. Griphook, does the bank perhaps provide a pouch or something similar? I…kind of forgot to bring a wallet." He smiled awkwardly at the flabbergasted goblin. "Youngsters these days, careless I swear. There will be extra charges, Mister Potter. Would you like a Potal card or a Moleskine pouch?" Griphook gestured for Harry to sit back down.

"Could you please explain the difference?" The goblin sighed and walked to a drawer. On his hand was another contract, and the other was a black card with gold accents and a fancy-looking pouch. He placed them on the table for viewing.

"The Moleskine pouch can hold up to 100~500 galleons, depending on the pouch you pay for. There are 3 types of pouches, which vary in price, but all of them have enchantments to keep them light and thief-proof. Meanwhile, the newly invented Portal card can withdraw any amount of money directly from the vault at any moment—which makes it expensive compared to the other. Additionally, only you can activate the card unless you permit another to use it. If ever you lose the card, it will send signals to the owner so that way you can retrieve it back.

"The Moleskine pouch is a one-time payment, while the card is an annual subscription. If you forget to pay for the card, then the card will immediately deactivate and you cannot use it unless you pay." It was obvious that the goblin was promoting the card over the pouch.

Griphook explained the details carefully so Harry could follow. Harry was thankful for the goblin's patience, or else he might've been kicked out of the bank already. He ended up picking the card over the Moleskine and paying a whopping 150 galleon from the vault. Harry internally cried at the price but told himself that it was worth it in the long run. He wasn't used to spending so much, so this was a whole new experience. He should probably learn to finance so he can keep track of his spending, earnings, and overall money.

They signed the contract, and Harry had to smear a bit of blood on the black card to finalize it. His name was embossed on the card, along with the vault number it was connected to. Harry thanked the goblin and headed out.

'Transactions done! Good job, Harry! One step closer to adulthood and independence.' he internally applauded to himself. His small victory came to a halt after a grumble erupted from his stomach. 'I guess I should eat first. I wanna eat pastries! Or maybe I should eat something heavy and leave room for desserts?'

Harry started his stroll, not caring where he was headed. He passed a lot of stores, but none of them were restaurants, so he went further into the alley. Surely enough, he ended up in a suspicious place without knowing how. 'Where the hell am I now? This place reeks of darkness and suspicious people…' Harry tugged on his hat and wore the hood—he cursed his lack of vigilance.

Harry stuck close to the shadows and scanned the area for an exit. In his search, he felt something tug at his soul. It was the same tug he had from the 'Door'. 'Is this what the system meant when it said I'll know when there's a player nearby?'

Harry was quick on his feet, not realizing what he was doing. He acted on impulse, but he can't help it now, can he? There was a 'player' like him—they went through the same hell as he did. He wanted—no, needed—to meet them no matter what.

Harry ran after a cloaked person—they were sprinting, trying to lose Harry in the crowd, but Harry persisted in his pursuit. 'That must be them… a fellow player!'. They both headed into a narrow alley, which led to a dead end. They were both catching their breath after the mini-chase, but Harry didn't want to lose this opportunity. Harry went in for the strike and grabbed the person's arm.

"Wha–"

"You! Are you just like me?" Harry asked, his voice desperate, close to a plea. The person turned around, and Harry was met with a young man in his twenties. Just like Harry, the man had wide eyes, surprised by Harry's question. He quickly recovered from his shock and tried to drag Harry out.

"A kid!? No way…Where are your guardian or parents? What are you doing here alone?" He asked, worried. A tan-skinned hand took hold of Harry's pale hand, but Harry slapped it away. "No, answer me first. Please." Harry hated how vulnerable he sounded but paid no mind. "Yes, yes I am. So will you let me get you out here now? We shouldn't discuss 'that' here in the open."

Harry remembered where they were and nodded. He wanted to slap himself in the head for losing his cool. That wasn't like him at all—this was the first time he acted out of emotion since the Door. The man removed his hood, revealing his neatly spiked black hair, then held Harry's hand and led them out of the suspicious place. Harry's stomach grumbled again, and he blushed. "How about we get you some food first…uhhh what's your name, kid?" Harry tugged on his bangs.

"It's H-Harry…Harry Potter." The man was surprised when he heard the name but didn't give any other reaction. Harry was grateful for that since he didn't want to deal with questions about his heroic tale. "I see, I'm Antonio Cruz—nice to meet you, Harry." Antonio smiled warmly at Harry. "I hope you know that I'm not kidnapping, right?" He said jokingly to lighten up the mood.

"Mn." That is all that Harry said. Antonio sweatdropped at the short reply.

"You know… you shouldn't be careless when following people, right? Especially in Knockturn Alley."

"So should I stop following you?"

"This kid…"

"Don't worry, I know how to knock down a person or two. I can defend myself."

"Sure you can."

Harry chuckled, and so did Antonio. "Let's get you some lunch, Harry. Is there anything you have in mind? It's my treat." Harry is not used to kindness and did not want to take it for granted. They were still technically strangers, but something about his brotherly vibes made Harry feel calm. "Anything is fine with me, and I can pay for my food. Thank you for the offer."

"No, no, I'm the adult here, so I should be in charge of the payment."

"B-but.."

"No buts, so tell me what you want."

"Treacle tart would be fine…" Harry gave up—this man was stubborn. Antonio brought them to a popular cafe and ordered a treacle tart with additional cakes. They ended up buying five extra slices of cake for Harry and coffee for both of them. Harry tried to pay, but Antonio was quick to pay first. He pouted when Antonio gave a smug grin, but he was grateful for the cakes anyway. Harry brought them to an isolated corner and expected Antonio to explain.

"Can we finally talk about 'that'?"

"Hold on, I called a friend who is much more knowledgeable about this. Sorry, I didn't tell you sooner." He smiled apologetically and rubbed the back of his head.

"What? Since when?" Antonio pointed at the watch he was wearing. He tapped on it several times, and a hologram of his conversation with his friend appeared. It reminded Harry of the black screen, but this one was interactable.

[AmazingBlacksmith111: Oi, where are you? I'm already in the meeting spot and have been waiting forever]

[WaterGeneratorNOT: Sorry sorry, I'm in Maire's Sweety Delight. Met another player and decided to treat them to a meal]

[AmazingBlacksmith111: How nice of you, "Big Brother Antonio". How come you never buy me lunch, tch]

[AmazingBlacksmith111: Be there in a few]

[WaterGeneratorNOT: kayy]

Harry's eyes twinkled in fascination and pouted when Antonio closed the hologram. 'Wahh… I want a watch like that too. What's up with the unique names too, is it their alias?'

"We were originally going to meet before you… well, chased me. Which was extremely horrifying, mind you, that was not good for my poor little heart." He rubbed his chest to explain his point. Harry huffed and apologized for the scare. "I didn't mean to scare you—you just happened to be the first 'player' I've met."

"Ahaha, don't worry about it. I was the same when I was new to this too." He waved Harry off and just smiled. Harry munched on his cake while they waited for Antonio's mysterious friend to appear. The silence between them wasn't awkward, or that's what Harry thought. Antonio was fidgeting in his seat and trying to find something to do while they waited.

"Is there something you want to say?" Harry asked out of pity for the man. Antonio just smiled awkwardly and said, "Well… this is the first time I'm meeting a player as young as you. The youngest we have is 16 years old, so it's kind of concerning as to why you're picked by the door at such a young age."

Harry nearly dropped his fork at the information. He was trembling, not from fright but from rage. 'Death, are you hearing this? I swear, the moment we meet, the first thing I will do is knock you in the head with the very scythe you gave me!'

Antonio must have misunderstood his trembling and started to panic.

A/N: Yayy! We can finally meet new characters and see Harry act like the child he is. I'll probably set up a twt account soon so I can post illustrations of this fic. I ain't the greatest artist out there tho lmao.

For those wondering how there's a hologram when it's just the 1990s, that'll be explained as the story progresses. Let's just say other players are making inventions early on to increase their survival rate.