Chapter 7: Mischief and Discoveries

(In the Dungeon)

Harry yawned when light peeked through his hidden location. It wasn't bright but it was enough to rouse him from his sleep regardless.

|You have slept-|

Harry ignored the message, having seen it countless times in the past to know everything was back to a hundred percent. HP, MP, and STA were full and his fatigue levels back to where they should be. The same could not be said about his present form.

"Still furry and walking on all fo... Whoa!" despite looking like a very large hare; apparently, he could stand up and walk on his hind-legs. It wasn't similar to a human's he noticed but it had its own way of going about it.

"So, I'm a dog-size hare with tiger like arms and I don't need to hop around on all fours to get everywhere. Pretty sure I'm over five feet tall, too," ordinarily this would have been wicked if he wasn't confused, "What am I?"

Calling up his [Status Window], Harry was impressed by how much higher his attributes were, especially his END, STR, and DEX, the latter of which was fifteen points shy of a hundred.

Status Window

Name: Harry James Potter (Púca Form)

Job: N/A

Level: 9 Next Level: 339.8/6500

HP: 875

STA: 1200

MP: 1275

STR: 33

VIT: 35

DEX: 85

END: 48

INT: 26

WIS: 43

CHA: 41

SPI: 51

LUK: ?

Attribute Points: 28

SPP: 1

|Púca|

Púca, also pronounced Pooka, are shapeshifting creatures originating from Celtic folklore and even dating back to Norse mythology. Said to be tricksters and pranksters at heart, Púca are either seen as benevolent or malevolent forest spirits, but while they are not non-physical beings, their disposition depends on the circumstances. While they physically resemble black or white hares, Púca are more comparable in size to Big Cats, of which their forelimbs are closely similar to, though young Púca are more dog sized. Despite this, a Púca possesses the innate ability to shift their form into almost anything else, but cannot maintain very large forms for long periods of time. Due to their fey lineage, Púca magic falls under different sets of rules compared to ordinary magic, such as being capable of human speech – though, such a feat is only doable in certain forms and when a Púca has reached a certain maturity – and traveling and residing on a different plane of existence.

Their large ears allow for excellent hearing, enabling them to hear sounds from miles away, and their powerful hind-legs make them incredibly swift. When in a forest or in certain fields, Púca have the ability to go invisible and erase their presence altogether; few can locate them when this occurs. Púca can also shed their fur and use the discarded hairs in unique ways such as hardening them into a dense clump, deadly needles, or even create a temporary doppelgänger. It should be noted that this requires incredible amounts of energy and the latter is often used merely as a getaway distraction due to how fragile it is.

Special Notes

[Click to Expand]

"Wicked," was Harry's thought. While content that his question was answered, it did bring up more. By his reckoning and his use of [Observe], Harry guessed his stats - except for DEX - were currently on par with a pre-teen that was involved in regular exercise. Shouldn't an animal form give him higher stats than that and allow him to do everything it did? Or because his true form was human, and a young child to boot, did that mean he couldn't do everything his new form could just yet?

|Congratulations!|

|For thinking-|

"Yes, yes," Harry dismissed the message, he already knew what was going to be said. The message that popped up afterwards did give him an answer, "So, I was right."

Him being young, new and being originally human meant he wouldn't be able to do everything the new form granted just yet. Apparently, he had a bit of growing up to do first. Even then, according to the pop-up, even if he spent decades using the form, only certain rare or very gifted individuals could accomplish the same feats their animal form could as though they were born and raised that way.

"But, since I have the Gamer ability, will I be able to?" honestly, the Special Perk was odd at times in how it worked. One moment it followed the rules of realism and the next it did its polar opposite. In truth, Harry didn't know what to make of it and put that thought aside for the time being.

Opening up his [Skill List], Harry took a look to see if anything had changed. To his disappointment, not much had. Certainly, he had levelled up last night and was now at level nine and had twenty-eight AP to his name. But other than that, only two new skills were added to the list, aside from [Primal Feasting] and [Primal Roar]. One was [Shapeshift: Púca] and that was pretty self-explanatory even if its current level meant wasn't all that appealing.

"Thirty-five percent of my MP and STA, and increases fatigue levels by fifteen percent, per transformation," nice as having a better form was, the price of turning into it was pretty costly. Harry made a mental note to improve the skill as much as possible to reduce such drawbacks. Looking at the only other skill that had improved, Harry realized that the [Quicksilver Skill] was the evolved version of [Sprint Skill]. A quick look and Harry smiled like Dudley did on Christmas Day.

|Quicksilver. Lv1. Next Lv 0%/100%. Skill Modifier: DEX [C], END [D] Mastering Speed: D| An enhanced version of the Sprint skill that allows you to run even more quickly for a certain period of time. STA Cost: (85 – Perks = 42.5)

* Increases movement speed by 31% + Modifier + Perks = 174%

* Duration: 7 Seconds + Modifier + Perks = 46.5 Seconds

With the skill as great as it was right now, and other skills having also increased considerably in the process, despite only [Sprint] having evolved, Harry went back to his [Status Window] and opened the expanded and more detailed version to see if his hunch was right. And it was.

"[Movement Speed] goes up and [Speed-Based Skills] skills will upgrade to their next level if they have one, and won't cost as much, and fatigue levels won't increase as quickly when using them. Makes sense. [Stealth] and [Stealth-Based Skills] along with auditory [Detection-Based Skills] also get a decent boost, but don't benefit from an upgrade," Harry linked that as the Púca's prankish nature coming into play.

Going down the list a little further, Harry saw his form had a perk called [Fey Lineage] that offered him higher tolerance/resistance against magic based skills in this form and offered access to unique forms of magic he otherwise could use as a human. Although, it was currently only at level one but Harry guessed that would go up over time.

"Oh, come on," apparently the form wasn't without its flaws. One was that he would be unable to use most magic his other form knew. Magic that affected himself such as healing and strengthening his body or making himself larger were the exception, but Harry wouldn't be able to go full on fire flinging whilst in this form. Another flaw was that since his form was of fey descent, his shape shifting ability was subject to very odd rules.

|Púca Shapeshifting|

While the Púca is capable of feats ordinary human beings and other magical creatures cannot do, the shapeshifting capabilities of a Púca has several limitations:

* Púca can only shift into living things and cannot become lifeless objects

* Púca can only shift into living things that are real and not based on imagination (ie. cannot turn into a wolf with eagle wings or talons or become a scorpion with the tail of a serpent)

* Púca can only shift to a certain size (only specific circumstances can come into play to by-pass this law)

* Whatever size a Púca takes forces them to follow the laws it falls under (ie. a normal sized rat cannot have superhuman strength)

* Unless similar to their own capabilities, Púca cannot perform certain feats of the creature it turns into (ie. Breath fire, produce venom, silk, or generate lightning)

* Púca cannot use their magical abilities when shapeshifted into another form

* Púca can take on the form of a human but will have physical Púca like characteristics (ie. Hare-like ears on their heads, tail and their hands and feet will be more claw like)

"Is that a joke?" and did this mean if he turned back into a human, he'd have rabbit ears and a bunny tail? Needing an answer, and wanting it quick at that, Harry made his way to the entrance and left the safety of his hiding place. The dungeon that greeted him was much different compared to last night.

The fog remained but since it was morning it was nowhere as ominous or dark. Harry could see the sun trying to peek through the clouds above but there were no bats visible in the sky. The again, the bats were likely nocturnal enemies so it made sense. Again, likely the Gamer working on the basis of reality.

Carefully looking around and listening as best he could, Harry's large ears invited the sound that came from well over dozens of meters all around him. And Harry could pinpoint their exactly location. Fortunately, anything hostile or believed to be were very far off at the moment, "Oh, that's right. Enemies killed in dungeons take twenty-four hours to respawn."

Invigorated by the information, Harry made his way to the river. Even with him reading the pop-up windows, the reflection in the water still surprised him. Harry had seen rabbits and hares before, even the large fat ones on the internet, but this was a whole new experience.

"Big," Harry said, and then quickly realized that came from his mouth, "I... spe...ak... Wha... ha-happ—ing?" this went on for a few minutes before Harry came to the conclusion that his form was still too young to form proper words and sentences.

"Focus, Harry," not wanting to get off track again, Harry concentrated and willed himself to change back into his human form and prayed he didn't end up with ears missing from the sides of his head and protruding from the very top like horns.

"Please, please, please," Harry hesitantly opened his eye and looking back at him was a blue, slimy, white eyed, mud-covered visage and gills, "Wha-AHHH!"

Dragged without warning into the water by a pair of sharp, web claws, Harry struggled as best he could in the creature's grip but found his strength to be no match against whatever it was that was dragging him into what would certainly be a painful experience: a slow and painful death.

—}x|X|x{—

Minutes later when he managed to get himself out of danger, Harry never thought he'd dislike something on the same level as the Dursleys and Ripper. But he did. They were called necrophages. And Harry absolutely abhorred them. Specifically, Harry hated Drowners.

The best way to describe them were if a zombie and the monster from the classic film The Creature from the Black Lagoon had a child together. They were slime covered beings and ooze came out of their bodies which released a nasty rotting odor when it did. Grabbing them was difficult as a result. Despite the zombie comparison, they weren't anything like them, being barely more intelligent than the undead. Drowners were fast and were excellent swimmers, and burrowers apparently. And they generally fought in groups. Harry considered himself fortunate the one that tried to drown him was by itself.

That was another thing they were good at. They were in their element in the water, detecting them while they were in the water required very high levels in the [Detection] skill. And, even worse, for a boy with almost no proper swimming experience, Harry had little hope of fighting them in the water. Escaping the creature's grasp had almost drowned him and resulted in him losing his only effective weapon. Luckily, Harry managed to strike it in the eye and he somehow managed to drag himself back onto land when it swam away.

Unfortunately, the necrophage followed soon afterwards, angrier than a swarm of bees and just as fast in its fury. The upside, Harry was no longer in the water. Drowners were still formidable creatures on land but much more dangerous in the water. And, most importantly, Drowners did not like fire.

Apparently, while the ooze they secreted made them as slippery as a wet frog, it also made them very flammable. Much like amphibians, Drowners needed to keep their bodies moist or they'd become very weak and eventually end up dying. Which was why they had to dive back into the river soon after they caught fire. Fortunately, for Harry, their description also said that Drowners had a preference for spending most of their time in the water during the day and usually came onto land at dusk until dawn, or if it was raining.

Winter conditions also worked against them as it made them sluggish if they stepped outside the river for too long. But, then again, the description did mention that the creatures weren't the brightest of corpse eaters. Another plus was that this would allow him to use his [Fireball] skill to great effect. No doubt by the end of the dungeon, the skill would have increased by a considerable amount. But Harry was soaking wet and it was the middle of winter. With no means of drying himself off, Harry was forced to turn himself back into his Púca form. The cost of which was considerable.

"At least I can turn back into a normal human, and I'm warm," much as he liked the Viera from Final Fantasy, Harry was glad he didn't have to spend the rest of his life looking like one, "Having a tail would be an adjustment, but I could live with it because of pants. Trying to hide rabbit ears over a foot long twenty-four seven for the rest of my life. No thanks."

Harry learned that his alternate form's ears were pretty sensitive to sound and picked up even the faintest of noise from a fair distance away. The sleepless nights he'd experience until he got used to it may have driven him insane if he didn't have [Gamer's Mind].

"God bless that perk," it was OP but Harry didn't care. What he did care about was getting out of the dungeon right now. Much as he wanted to continue on and conquer it like the last one, Harry wasn't in the mood and he wanted answers. The first and foremost one on his mind.

"Who were those people?" Harry always suspected there might be others like him. People with abilities that defied common sense that were hidden from ordinary people like characters from the comic books. Maybe their powers weren't exactly the same as his, he surmised. He was fairly certain his Gamer ability was unique. If it wasn't, they'd have followed him in the dungeon.

Honestly, Harry didn't know how a second encounter with them would go. Not after the thrashing he gave them. Not exactly how he envisioned his first encounter with others similar to him. And who was to say they were the good guys anyway? Fortunately, they knew him as the black monster that sent them flying, not as the boy, "And, if need to, I can change shape."

Memories of last night were hazy but few lucid thoughts did stick out in particular, "Cut me up for ingredients and kill me. Not a comforting thought. And what were they wearing?" Harry wasn't an expert on fashion but even he knew the attire many wore was very outdated.

It made Harry recall an incident some months back during the summer involving a tiny man in a violet top hat, high knee socks, and other outdated clothing, that for whatever reason had bowed to him while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. While the act confused Harry and Dudley, Petunia had gotten mad and ordered them not to pay attention. Claiming he was mad or a drunk.

"Where was that again. Chair Street? Ross Ave... Charing Cross Road!... In London," and if he recalled correctly, the location was a little over an hour away, "By car. Not exactly a short distance either."

Calling up a screen after expressing his intent to leave the dungeon, Harry received a warning. Whether it was due to the [Tutorial Mode] or because he was in a low-level dungeon, the penalties were fairly low. Losing what EXP he had and being barred from entering the current dungeon for twenty-four hours. It could have been much worse. Losing only just a little over 500 EXP to his name was a small price.

"I can always come back later," until he conquered this one, he couldn't enter the harder dungeons, but it wasn't like this was the only dungeon he could visit.

|QUEST ALERT!|

Others Like Me

Main Quest: Locate a secret entrance to the 'Secret' World.

Main Quest Completion: 750 EXP, Access to New Daily Quests

Failure: 100 EXP

Quest is Mandatory

Special Note: How you go about completing this is entirely up to you. Be forewarned, if you are discovered certain paths may become inaccessible to you in the future.

"Almost forgot about that," there was always a possibility that they left someone behind just in case, "Good thing I can shapeshift. But into what?"

A bird would be nice, if only to save him travel time. Pigeons were common in the winter and inconspicuous. Problem was, Harry didn't know how to get to the location specifically, or if he could fly immediately or not. Pigeons were generally seen in flocks, too. So that was out.

A dog was another option, but a dog in a park without an owner nearby might raise suspicions and possibly get him sent to a nearby dog shelter. In the end, Harry decided upon a racoon, not an uncommon sight and it was fur covered so he'd be warm until he reached a safe distance. First thing first though, "I need to dry my clothes."

(Ministry of Magic; Department of Magical Law Enforcement)

"You can't be serious, Dumbledore," the current acting head of the Bones family and Director of the DMLE looked as if she'd been told an unbelievable tale. And, in essence, she had.

"I am, Amelia," despite the twinkling in his eye, Dumbledore was being serious. Even if a little bit of mischievous behavior was also involved.

"Even if what you say is true, this incident not only came close to causing bad blood between us and the muggles but it almost broke Statute of Secrecy on a level not seen since who bloody well knows how long! The only saving grace in all this is there's no evidence that the Boy-Who-Lived ever lived there, but someone will find out down the line," a certain reporter from the Daily Prophet came to mind. The woman always did manage to uncover information that shouldn't be divulged.

Not to mention her department would have to deal with those damn camera phones muggles had now a days. Another migraine and nightmare to deal with was a poor way of describing it. Gone were the good old days of merely wiping away the memory of any who saw what they shouldn't have or altering a simple picture with magic. Counter-measures that the British Ministry was sorely behind on. They weren't the only ones but that was no excuse in Amelia's mind.

"So, explain to me, why aren't we bringing this to court?" the way those muggles treated the Boy-Who-Lived was sickening in her mind. The boy was practically her niece's age and the thought of anything such as that happening to her only living relative nearly had the woman go off in a white-hot rage.

Dumbledore smiled. Sharp and intelligent as she was, even now the former Hufflepuff still had a bad habit of letting her emotions cloud her thoughts on matters closest to her, "Think, Amelia. Those who view muggles and muggleborns as second-class citizens, if not lower, will try and use this whole debacle to their advantage," the man had told the woman the truth because he knew both she and Scrimgeor wouldn't buy the story, even if she didn't believe all of it. Amelia and Scrimgeor would simply dig deeper into the matter and potentially make the situation worse.

"How can it work to our advantage? You still haven't located the boy. Do you even plan on telling him what's happened when you do?" personally she believed Harry Potter should have been told years ago. Learning that the Boy-Who-Lived was ignorant of his lineage and who he was remained baffling.

"The matter is being looked into, my dear, I assure you," the cryptic response only earned him a scoff.

"Pardon me if I'm lacking in faith, Headmaster," especially after viewing the memories of the boy's muggle relatives, memories that Dumbledore suggested were to be put under very tight lock and key after they were viewed. Said man did nothing for a moment and while his smile didn't leave his face there was a subtle shift only the handful would have caught.

"Once you find him, what are your plans? You better not have the intention of moving him back there," she warned him.

Truthfully the idea had popped into his head but left just as quickly. With the wards gone and with the Dursley family's less than stellar guardianship, Dumbledore wasn't going to put the boy through that form of mental scarring. Nor did he desire a second repeat in the future.

"The thought crossed my mind, reluctantly, of –"

"Are you stark raving mad, Dumbledore! This whole incident was caused because they pushed him too far over the edge. And now you want him to return to that awful place!" the woman couldn't believe what she was hearing. If anything, it felt like Harry had not only been pushed over the edge, but he had been given weighted shackles just so he'd fall more quickly.

"It would have been temporarily, Amelia, and with greater supervision as well. But, no, I don't plan on having Harry go back," while it got the woman to sit back down, she was still quite tense, "But finding another guardian for the Boy-Who-Lived isn't a simple task. Many would profit from having him as their ward if word of all this got out," the man didn't have to elaborate for Amelia to understand.

"Don't remind me," she scowled horribly. It sickened her just how corrupt the British Ministry was. Even with many pureblood supremacists and Death Eaters vanquished or locked away in Azkaban, many still believed in the caste system in this day and age.

If you had the money, the influence, and the blood then you were pretty much set for life at the ministry. It was an archaic way of life that should have died out centuries ago, but like anyone in power they were hesitant or unwilling to give it up. It was like a child having their toy taken away, only this child had powers to not only get it back but use them on the one who took it away in the first place.

It was how many such as Lucius Malfoy managed to avoid his well-deserved trip to Azkaban. The man's influence wasn't as good as it used to be, but Amelia knew he was influential still and he along with others were slowly gaining their reputations back.

The privileges and rights between all three were was so bad that in the past a Pureblood could get away with murdering a Muggleborn, and some had, too, if they knew the right people and charisma to get out of it. Half-Bloods had it easier, Dumbledore was a testament of that, but nowhere as easy as a Pureblood. Most Muggleborns were more or less reduced to boring desk jobs unless they married into an influential family; even then it was no guarantee.

However, a recent consensus showed that most muggleborns in this day and age, stopped attending Hogwarts after completing their OWLs. Whether it was due to how outdated they were compared to muggles or the prejudice they faced or any number of reasons wasn't clear.

"Damn it," she realized that Dumbledore, unfortunately, was right. If the people of the Magical UK knew Harry Potter, the bloody icon and a beacon of hope in the eyes of many, was greatly mistreated and neglected by muggles, to say it would greatly sour the relationship between wizards and their mundane counterparts, and first-generation wizards, would be like calling Umbridge a simple pain the buttocks. The boy hadn't been physically abused, except by his uncle's sister and his cousin at the odd time from what memories she saw, but others wouldn't see it that way.

Lucius and other fanatics that were against anything that wasn't the proper Pureblood ideology would care less about the boy's health, caring more for the situation as an opportunity to gain leverage over their opponents and further discriminate muggles and muggleborns in the eyes of society. The amount that would leave Hogwarts after the minimum requirements would only grow.

"What about his family's ancestral home?" Amelia asked only for the man to shake his head.

"Destroyed during the war and has yet to be fully restored ever since Voldemort attacked it personally," the woman was shocked and he wasn't surprised that she didn't know about it. Few did. To the public it was said that Dorea and Charlus died of dragon pox and Voldemort had the manor destroyed to send a message.

In truth, Dorea and Charlus had feared for Lily, James and their grandchild and knew that they'd be unsafe at the Potter manor. Their suspicions had ended up becoming a reality when the Dark Lord attacked it when James and Lily had gone into hiding with Harry shortly afterwards. The home that had sheltered nine centuries worth of Potters was in a poor state at the moment due to the attack; much like a few other wizard ancestral homes of those who fought against him, or were seen as a potential threat.

Neither Charlus and Dorea hadn't gone down without a fight. But in the end, both had fallen nonetheless. However, even in her youth Dorea had been a vindictive witch, and Dumbledore believed it was likely her that had set off whatever spell that destroyed the manor but also took down countless Death Eaters and many other of Voldemort's supporters.

With so many of the opposition dead, the act had given the Order of the Phoenix members a much-needed reprieve. To save face, Voldemort had his more influential members spread the fabricated story. It was one many believed and nearly had James leave the sanctity of Godric's Hollow when Sirus made the mistake of informing him. Or perhaps it was done purposely? Traitor though he was, perhaps Sirius had enough love in him to give his brother in all but blood a warrior's death. James was young, and he certainly wasn't the first Potter to willingly meet death on the battlefield. The family had a history of it.

"Have you thought of anyone suitable enough to look after the boy? He's an heir to a very noble line and the last of his line as well," Amelia the man, cutting his thoughts short, knowing that in this day and age this meant that once Harry turned fifteen and passed his O.W.L.s - the results of which had to be at a certain level – he'd become a wizard lord of magical society.

"I considered the Weasleys, not only because I trust them but because Arthur's mother Cedrella was a Black. However, while they'd certainly take him in, Arthur is only half-Black and his mother was disinherited for marrying what they deemed a blood traitor. With their financial difficulties and adamant refusal to accept charity and earning what they should through their own merit, it wouldn't be a wise course of action," that brought a small smile to Amelia's face. Odd as he was at times, the woman admired Arthur's determination and work ethic.

"Druella Black's mother, Cyprella, was a daughter of the Black family who married into the Rosier family. Druella marrying Cygnus Black the Third, gives Andromeda Tonks the closest blood tie to him through Dorea as James and Cygnus were first cousins," despite the considerable age gap since Dorea and Charlus had incredible difficulties conceiving a child in the first place.

"Disinherited from the family or not, the laws are clear that blood ties have stronger claims, and she could claim him as a ward. But, even with her being the second oldest of her sisters, Andromeda's disinheritance still plays against her, regrettably," and with how many wizard families related to the Blacks, many would fight tooth and nail for him. Especially if it allowed them access to the Potter Family wealth, Amelia thought. It wasn't something the Head of the DMLE hadn't dealt with before.

"This isn't going to be an easy venture, is it?" the woman could already feel the headache that was about to occur. It was times like this that made her look the other way or felt the urge to join Mad-Eye in a drink. She never did, but there were times where she came close. It only needed to happen once for a bad habit to form, and stopping yourself from repeating afterwards wasn't always easy.

"Has anything with the Wizengamot ever been achieved without great effort?" the man pointed out. Dumbledore had contemplated Amelia as a potential guardian but others would see it as her abusing her authority. Hypocritical really. The man had a plan in motion, but it wasn't going to be as simple as it seemed. Favors would have to be called in and careful planning needed to occur if this was to work. Even then, and in all likelihood, it could take months to accomplish.

"Touché," the woman knew the older man had a point. Politics never made things easy. Everyone wanted something to gain from it even if they appeared or claimed otherwise.

"So, how do we go about it? Covering it up and explaining everything I mean?"

"Already thought of. Gone though he is, Voldemort still has many sympathizers and followers the ministry failed to catch," or let off with a slap on the wrist, Amelia thought with contempt.

"He delved deep into various branches of the Dark Arts on a level none in our day and age has ever accomplished. Only Grindelwald comes close and even then, the gap in their mastery of the Dark Arts is noticeable. Remember the Inferi Incident that claimed the lives of nearly one hundred individuals," the woman stiffened and while he knew it was a sore spot for the woman, it sent the message across.

"Aye... The day countless died. The day I lost my brother, Edgar, and his wife, and the day I also lost Gideon," Amelia was a strong witch, both magically and in character, but even now the memory never failed to bring a tightness to her chest. Edgar and Clarissa had been killed by a swarm of Inferi when the horde got too close and the protection on their home destroyed by Death Eaters led by Antonin Dolohov.

Gideon and Fabian had been nearby at the time and tried to help, and while they succeeded in taking down the horde and some minor Death Eaters, neither had been a match against Antonin. The man had been a part of the Inner Circle for a reason. By the time reinforcement came to their aid, both men were dead and barely recognizable after the Death Eaters were done with them.

The only saving grace for Amelia that day was that her niece Susan had been placed in a safe room only the Bones family knew about. But that day still remained as one of the worst days of her life.

Looking up, Amelia said, "I'm fine," and waved away Dumbledore's conjured handkerchief and motioned him to get on with his plan.

"What needs to be done is shifting the attention of everyone where we want it. We can start by claiming that the beast was a highly complex and volatile creature made and fueled by dark magic. An illegal experiment unleashed on a muggle neighborhood for no other reason but to cause wanton destruction. Hopefully, we can use this experience as a wakeup call to many. The results will speak for themselves and it will show the Wizengamot that our Aurors are ill prepared for these sorts of situations."

"Do you honestly believe they will buy it? Countless muggles saw what happened. Picture were taken and... What was it called again...Video recorded?" she informed him.

"I'm aware of that," it actually still baffled and left him in awe at the technological accomplishments muggles managed to achieve in such a short amount of time, "I have someone looking into it."

Nicolas ended up drawing the short straw and had not exactly been pleased. Not that he had much of a choice. But then again, he was one of the rare few among them who understood how things worked in the non-magical world. The immortal alchemist was the only one who knew what needed to be done. At least, if one wanted it done properly, that is, "Few besides you and I actually acknowledge that we require greater training and education about muggles. We are severally, hilariously, and pitifully outdated. A laughing stock wouldn't be, shall we say, too far a stretch, when compared to some of the other ministries? This might very well serve as the push we need."

Amelia rubbed her temple and once more fought the urge to emulate Mad-Eye. What Dumbledore suggested wasn't too far a stretch. Plus, it gave her an opportunity to get more funding into her department and it would make Fudge look like quite the bumbling fool for pulling the funding in the first place, "Not everyone will buy it. It may not even get the results we want either. I can see Fudge outright denying this has anything related to do with You-Know-Who, even if we claim the cause coming from a sympathizer."

"True," Dumbledore would be lying if he said they would, "Voldemort kept much of what he knew close to the chest. But the rare few he trusted or valued in his own way learned a great deal few can lay claim to. If played right, we can minimize suspicion and doubt. At the very least, we can persuade them to find some way to put additional funding in your division and ensure only those qualified can become an Auror. Especially if word gets out that one of the victims was Harry Potter."

"What about his … family?" blood related or not, after what they did, they were anything but in Amelia's opinion, "What's to become of them?"

"Relocated, if need be. I'll be dealing with them personally," Dumbledore informed the witch.

Both knew the plan would be far from perfect but it was best they could come up with at the moment on such short time. Originally, Dumbledore had planned on saying it was nothing more than an elaborate training exercise, but that involved too many complications. Even as the Supreme Mugwump he wasn't exempt from breaking the Statue of Secrecy on such a level. A decade or two ago, it might have been different. Now it wasn't the case.

Nicolas was the one to suggest putting the blame on Voldemort related elements instead. It didn't sit well that such a wake-up call would have to be based on a lie, but at the same time the Dark Lord of the UK was out there and plotting his return. And when he did, of that Dumbledore knew it was only a matter of time, they needed to be ready. Elements of the First Wizard War began in the 1970s, a little over a decade later it turned in skirmishes and small fights, and by the 90s the Magical UK was in a state of civil war that ended a little after the turn of the new millennium.

As they were now, and if proper actions weren't done, a second conflict against the man formerly known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, would be much shorter by comparison.

Barely even a day and already were members of the ministry wanting answers and many were not known for their patience. They needed to work quickly and set out to do just that. Before they planned anything further, Amelia couldn't help but ask, "You'll keep me informed, right? Once you find the boy."

Dumbledore merely nodded. Now if only he could find the son of James and Lily.

(Sometime Later; Charing Cross Road, London)

While it took longer than he would have liked, and by the time he had arrived at his destination it was nearly noon, Harry was fortunate enough to discover that there had been multiple methods of reaching Charing Cross Road from Little Whinging.

Being the quickest option, Harry would have opted for taking the taxi, but the cost was something he couldn't afford even with almost a hundred pounds in his pocket. And so, after making certain he got the right information, almost twenty pounds later, a few subway transfers, and after nearly two hours did Harry found himself at Charing Cross Road. The boy was bundled up warmly, a wool tuque on his head, snug gloves, a thick winter coat and scarf, and a backpack with other essentials he had taken sometime after leaving the dungeon.

"At least I'm warm," the thought had occurred to him when he went back to where he fell asleep. After making a fire and using sticks to hang his wet clothes near them, Harry quickly realized he was hardly wearing the appropriate outdoor attire for winter.

Stealing from others wasn't something that sat well with Harry, a trait that reminded him too much of Dudley, but the young boy begrudgingly acknowledged that he didn't have much choice on the matter. At least no one was home and he didn't have to break anything to get in. At the very least, it would teach them to make certain to lock the back door from now on. The added bonus was what he wore currently concealed Harry's face on the off chance whoever attacked him last night knew what he looked like. Fortunately, years of being chased by Dudley and his gang and trying to hide from them made him apt at blending into the background.

Spotting a bench nearby, Harry took a seat and grabbed some food from his bag. Right now, all Harry could do was wait and hope he'd spot someone that stood out. What he was looking for was fairly straight forward: someone or groups of someone with outdated fashion sense; he prayed it wouldn't take too long.

Fortune smiled upon him not ten minutes later when a group of oddly dressed men and women began making their way down the street. A quick use of [Observe] showing they had the [Spirit] attribute, an attribute only people who can use magic possessed, added further validity. Harry was hot on their tail but kept a measured distance all the same just to be safe, "I've come too far to be caught now."

The group didn't go too far, thankfully, and as they rounded a corner, Harry spotted what he believed to be a small pub called the Leaky Cauldron. The runaway noticed many others seemed to merely walk by without noticing the pub while the oddly dressed ones, either gazed at it or walked right in, "Must be the place."

Or, at least, he hoped it was.

Harry opened the pub door as casually as he could, but even then, he remained nervous. And he couldn't even come up with the proper words to describe how he felt upon entering. The tavern jam packed with people and the building was much larger than it looked on the inside. But even then, the size of it was nothing. Trays carrying hot food and foaming beverages in mugs were floating in mid-air to their tables, creatures were seen wrapped around peoples shoulders or flying in the air – many of which were owls! - liquids were being shaped into various forms and made to dance for the amusement of small children, and the ceiling where the largest Christmas tree Harry had ever seen reached looked as though it were snowing.

Harry felt his heart beat quicken. Certainly, he suspected there were other humans like him, but for that race he suspected to be magic users was still a lot to take in. It certainly explained what he saw last night and the evidence before him spoke volume. Magic was the only explanation he could think of.

|QUEST COMPLETED!|

Others Like Me

Main Quest: Locate a secret entrance to the 'Magical' World (achieved)

Rewards: (750 + 35% = 1012.5 EXP), Access to New Daily Quests

"Move it!" Harry nearly jumped at the sudden shout behind him and realized he had been standing still.

"Sorry!" he said perhaps a little too loudly if the sudden looks he was getting were to go by. No longer acting like a barrier, Harry made his way to the bar area where families were situated and made himself comfortable on a stool. If movies and video games taught him anything, the bar was one of the best places to find information by listening in on conversations. He just hoped it was the right decision.

"Afternoon, lad," a man behind the counter greeted him, "Looking for something, Mr..."

Realizing he was asking for a name, Harry mentally scolded himself for not thinking of an alias sooner, "...Evans... Evans Inlé," while happy that the man bought it, now he was stuck with the name Evans Inlé. It wouldn't be too hard to remember, Harry supposed, what with the first being his mother's maiden name, and Inlé coming from one of his favorite books and cartoons he watched at the library.

"Inlé, you say. Can't say I know any wizard family with that name. Tom. Innkeeper, landlord, and barman of the Leaky Cauldron," said Tom.

"Huh. So, this place is an inn?" there's a trope, Harry thought.

"So, Mr. Inlé. Never seen you before. Muggleborn?"

"Uh...no," Harry guessed the man was asking if he wasn't a wizard, "Both my parents were wizards... But they died when I was young. Been living with my dad's family. Just learned I was one."

"Ah, a half-blood," the man said, confusing Harry.

"Half-Blood?"

"You know. One parent's magical and the other isn't? Didn't your father's family know anything?" Tom asked.

"My father and his brother … weren't that close. Big age difference. My uncle was on his way to college by the time dad was going to preschool. Mum and dad had me almost out of school, and died really young in a car accident," Harry told him.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Never cared for those muggle machines to be honest, or the Knight Bus, either. Too much noise. Well, not to worry, lad. I've been around long enough to know how this works. How old are you?" the man asked.

"Ten. I turn eleven in February," Harry half-lied.

"Makes sense. Although, to be honest, you're a little early. Usually, you lot don't start popping up till the spring or summer when you come for your school supplies," the man laughed.

"School supplies?"

"Merlin, save me. If I didn't know that muggle repelling charm was up, I'd swear you were one. Hogwarts, my boy. School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? The school all magic born children in the United Kingdom go to for seven years until they graduate?" Tom elaborated.

In for a penny, Harry went for the pound, "I only sort of learned I was a wizard just recently. And, even then, I wasn't really supposed to. Uncle James only told me what he knew, and it wasn't much. Finding this place was trouble enough for both of us."

"That would be the Muggle Repelling Charm, I mentioned. Non-magicals either don't even realize this place exist or even if they do, they'll keep walking since the outside's been charmed to look like a rundown shop they can't enter. Unless they're accompanied by a witch or wizard that willingly points it out for them, no muggle can find this place," there was a hint of pride in Tom's voice as he said this.

"That explains one question," was the young boy's thoughts. Harry wondered why ordinary people just walked by or didn't bother entering. Some kind of concealment spell was in place.

"By the way, lad. Where's your uncle? Can't have sent you here by yourself... did he?" there was a hint of suspicion in the man's tone.

Harry shook his head and quickly came up with an excuse and began to look around, "No. We came here because he wanted to get himself informed. Uh... I think we got separated though."

Tom would have cursed if a child wasn't in front of him, "Well, be a good lad and grab a booth and wait until you see him. Only place out of here is where you came in and Diagon Alley in the back. He couldn't have gone far."

"Diagon Alley?" Harry would have asked him what that was but Tom suddenly became occupied with a group of wizards that came up to the bar. Harry took this as his chance to sneak away. Going into the back of the inn, Harry followed a group of unsuspecting wizards and soon found himself in a small enclosed backyard with wooden kegs on one side and then face to face with a brick wall.

Harry's first thought was that he made the mistake of following the wrong group. But then one of them began to systematically tap on the wall with stick of all things, the bricks began to move and fold away from the middle in a complex Jenga or Rubik's like puzzle. The memory of this day and what he saw would be one that Harry would never forget.

If the Leaky Cauldron was bustling then the alley was nearly the morning traffic on a highway. Diagon was a cobblestoned alleyway with various stores; shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes – if Harry didn't have his own monster parts stashed away, he might have been unsettled – tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, essentially everything one could image to find in a fantasy setting. And it got even better.

|Congratulations!|

|You have discovered Diagon Alley!|

|Access to the [Fast Travel] skill has been granted!|

|A list of Fast Travel locations is now available for you!|

"Bloody freaken brilliant!" Harry had never before received a decent Christmas gift in his life, but if he had then this would easily be counted among the very best of them. It was certainly going to make travelling back and forth much more convenient.

Harry wandered around and took in the sights. Each store he visited, every turn he took, and every marvel he saw threatened to turn his brain into whatever it was Dudley had in his head. The shop with the sign reading Eeylops Owl Emporium caught him off guard. A shop specifically geared towards selling owls was a first and strange thing to see. The nocturnal birds at the front glass window watched everyone that went by and Harry had the distinct impression they were not your average bird of prey. Fascinating as they were, Harry wouldn't know what to do with an owl, or likely afford one, and being homeless, he couldn't exactly provide proper care for one either.

Giving them one final glance, Harry continued onwards until he found a store that he would serve him greatly. "Flourish and Blotts Bookseller," but to Harry, it was Skill Books Central.

Much like the other stores in Diagon Alley, the bookstore was deceptively small on the outside but incredibly large inside. It was like a greatly upscaled version of a Bag or Backpack of Holding from Dungeons and Dragons. Not that that Harry would ever need one thanks to his [Inventory Box], but him knowing the spell would likely come in handy at some point. Books of various sizes, some bigger than his entire body or as small as his hand, and some were even snarling or had eyes following whomever went by, took up the entire store and reached the very ceiling in unstable stacks. Harry took his time to look over the books he believed he'd benefit from. He began with Standard Book of Spells, Grade One by Miranda Goshawk.

|Necessary Requirements Met|

|Would you like to use the skill book [Standard Book of Spell, Grade One]?|

(Yes/No)

Harry didn't think twice. A second later he wished he had when the book vanished from his hands and turned into particles of light.

"Oy! What was that?" a voice from behind boomed and Harry swore his heart was ready to burst from his chest like a xenomorph.

"I... I don't know. I was just reading it and then," Harry put on his most innocent face. Having never experienced this before. Lady Luck was kind to him, for his facial expression came across as genuine and the man bought it.

"Argh. Someone must have been jinxed the blasted thing. Steady on when you open the other books. Could have been much worse," he told him.

"Thank you," Harry released a sigh of relief and made it seem as though he went to look for other books but instead read the list of spells he now knew.

|Congratulations!|

|You have learned the following skills!|

Wand-Lighting Charm

Softening Charm

Severing Charm

Fire-Making Charm

Unlocking Charm

Levitation Charm

Locking Spell

Mending Charm

Happy though he was at learning eight news skills, all of them spells, Harry was left disappointed upon learning that the [Mending Charm] wasn't a healing spell. It remained useful regardless but its purpose was geared more towards repairing objects. Welcoming to have if he needed to repair his gear, but very much not recommended on living things according to the description.

Making his way to the counter, Harry asked, "Do you have any books on healing spells?"

The man looked at him as though he were an airhead before it quickly changed, "First time in Diagon Alley?"

"Just learned I was a wizard from my uncle," Harry informed him and a look of understanding dawned on the man.

"So, a half-blood. Well, we have a decent selection to choose from but you won't be allowed to learn them until your third year at Hogwarts when the electives become available," Harry fought back a curse, "Healing spells aren't something you want done on you without the proper training and skill. You could do more harm than benefit."

Undeterred, Harry asked, "Any books on potions?"

"Oh, definitely a Ravenclaw," the man muttered.

"What?" Harry didn't understand the significance behind the word.

"Nothing. I won't spoil it for you. Admirable as your want to learn is, Potionscraft is also a subject you shouldn't learn without proper training or supervision unless you want someone scrapping bits and pieces of you off whatever surface they find. Heard a rumor about someone turning into jello after a botched step. Took the healers five years to get him back to normal and he was aware of it. Hasn't been the same since," the man shuddered whilst Harry blinked nervously.

"Guess I'm better off waiting to learn potions and alchemy than going at it on my own," turning into jelly and being unable to do anything like it sounded like hell.

Heaving a set of books onto the counter, the helpful wizard said, "At any rate, I recommend you read these first. Harmless enough and should answer some questions you might have."

"Great," pulling out his money, an enthusiastic Harry asked, "How much?"

"Twenty-six Galleons, seven Sickles and nineteen Knuts," what was said only served to confuse Harry once more.

"Uh... How much is that in pounds?" Harry asked and the shopkeeper shook his head.

"Sorry, mate. We only accept magical currency. Barely even a handful of shops will accept muggle money because of the exchange rate fees we have to deal with afterwards. If you want to buy anything in Diagon Alley, best you follow the path to Gringotts Bank and exchange what you have ... Although, from what I'm seeing, I'd save myself the trip. Galleons are equal to seventeen British Pounds if I remember right," doing the math in his head, Harry was quick to conclude that he was right.

"What can I buy with this?" Harry hoped he could at least leave with something.

"Nothing here, I'm sorry to say," the man laughed a bit, "Maybe some sweets. With that amount your choices are pretty limited. Not even enough to buy a wand from Ollivander's."

"A wand..." finally someplace where he could buy a focus, "Where can I get that?"

After being given some instructions, and with the amount of people out and about limiting his maneuverability, Harry arrived in front of a store with gold faded letters and a wand sitting on a pillow in the front window nearly seven minutes later. Unlike the rest of the stores, the interior of Ollivander's was a tiny shop, empty except for a single, spindly chair in the corner. Countless rows of narrow boxes containing what Harry believed to be wands were piled right up to the ceiling of the tiny, dark shop, and the whole place had a thin layer of dust about it.

"What is it with wizards and dust and pilling things up to the ceiling?" Harry wondered if it was a cultural thing.

Seeing an old antique service bell in front of him, Harry rang the device and a musical tone echoed throughout the store. Nothing happened for nearly eleven seconds and before Harry could ring it once more, an old man with wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop suddenly came into view on a sliding ladder.

Before Harry could even get a word out the man greeted him with a smile, "Oh, yes. I wondered when I'd be seeing you, Mr. Potter."

Yes, it's a little early but who cares. A little gift to you all for giving me over 90 reviews for the last chapter. Thank you. Also, just and FYI, the storekeeper saying Harry's going to be a Ravenclaw is his personal opinion. Doesn't mean he is right. Hermione's a bookworm and eager to learn yet go sorted in the house of lions all the same.

Next chapter will be up next Friday or the first Tuesday or Wednesday in February. Depends. If I get 50 reviews, first Wednesday in February. If I get 60, it'll be the first Tuesday in February. And if I get 80, and it will be the last Friday of January (next week).