Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the intellectual property associated with Harry Potter.
Hi all,
Here's the new chapter. Dumbledore learns of Harry's escape and Charlus is reunited with his wife.
All Patrons get access to chapters early.
Pokemon: Way of Life has four chapters ahead of fanfiction.
Harry Potter: A Mage's Path has five chapters ahead of fanfiction.
Harry Potter: The Artisan's Path has two chapters ahead of fanfiction.
If you want to become a patron, head over to Pat re on and add a /GamerFiction after the com.
Chapter 3
There was still a sense of trepidation in Harry as he approached the junk shop, not knowing how to convince Lewis that he was the same person he had seen earlier. As he pushed on the door, it refused to budge. Because he was distracted, he didn't notice the closed sign.
Harry cursed. Why had the old man closed the shop? There were still a couple of hours left before he was supposed to close for the day. He headed for the alleyway on the side of the building and climbed the chain link fence into the backyard. Thankfully, the old man told him about a hidden set of keys that unlocked the doors.
In the backyard was a broken-down, rusted vehicle. Harry crouched down at the rear of the car and searched under the wing. His hand touched the keys secured to the frame with a magnet. However, his arm bumped into something else, which dropped onto the ground. It was a plain envelope.
He opened it to find a letter inside, so he unfolded it and began to read.
Harry,
I don't know when you will find this, but I can imagine your confusion when you learn I have shut up the shop and disappeared. You will see the reason when you see the mess inside. Some nasty business from my past caught up with me, and I had to run.
I have a confession to make. I know who you really are. You are Harry Potter, a wizard. I am a Squib, a non-magical child born to magical parents. My sister, who is a witch, gave me an item that allowed me to recognise and negate the effects of some enchantments. She wanted to protect me from other family members with a very extreme and violent view towards Squibs.
When you first entered, I could see through the illusion that disguised your appearance immediately. It didn't take me long to figure out it was the necklace, and I recognised some of the enchantments affecting you as well. Despite knowing that someone harboured ill intentions towards you, I did nothing due to my cowardice. I didn't want to attract any attention from the magical world.
It would seem that that restraint has been removed now that I have to leave. The building's utilities and electricity have been paid for the next three months, so if you need a place to crash, feel free to stay there. See it as an apology for not helping you before.
I suggest you find some help to remove the necklace as soon as possible. However, getting into contact with the magical world may not be the wisest thing. You don't know who to trust. My sister usually visits me every month, so you may be able to get her help. You can trust her.
Lewis.
Harry lowered the letter. He felt conflicted by the man's actions. On the one hand, he realised Harry was being manipulated and controlled but didn't do anything about it. However, he had been a companion, albeit reluctantly, for the last few years. He also left him a place to stay, which solved the problem of finding a place to stay. Harry wondered if the man would ever return and what he would say if he saw him.
As he had not disclosed this place to Mrs Figg, there is no way she will ever be able to track him down here. Suddenly, he realised something. Harry took out the appraisal scroll from his backpack and looked through the list of enchantments. One of them was a tracking charm. It didn't require such a massive leap of logic to figure out what it was used for.
Harry left the necklace in his old orphanage room. If he had been smart, he could have taken it with him and thrown it into someone's moving car or trailer. This would have led Mrs Figg down a false trail. However, this was not a movie. He was just a kid who was terrified, and his only thought was to escape.
However, there was a problem. Had Mrs Figg monitored the tracking charm when he visited the junk shop in the past? How did it work exactly? There was a chance he could be found here, so he would need to be prepared to run if she found him.
Another thing that caught his attention was that his name was Harry Potter. It was something he had noticed abstractly when he first used the appraisal scroll on the jade necklace. However, excitement over his changed face had distracted him.
The name and appearance change made him believe he was hidden away for some reason. It would also explain why he never attended a real school, although that seemed like overkill since the necklace was effective in hiding him.
Harry unlocked the door and walked through the back room and into the shop. When he saw the state it was in, he froze. The whole place looked like a tornado rolled through and upended everything on the floor. There had been some shelving pushed over, including the stand where Lewis used to keep comic books. At the counter, the cash register lay open, empty of its cash. Has someone robbed the place? Lucas mentioned some trouble had caught up with him. He sure hoped they didn't return.
Harry looked around at the mess. The clean-up would take a long time, but he wasn't afraid of hard work. Rolling up his sleeves, he got to work.
Albus Dumbledore paced in his office. An hour ago, Mrs Figg contacted him over the floo in a panic. Harry Potter removed his necklace and escaped from the orphanage. He didn't understand how it was possible. The necklace was almost flawless in its design. It took him a lot of galleons to pay for the necklace and the creator's silence. Of course, the man suffered a fatal accident later that same day. There was no way he could leave behind a vulnerability like that.
Albus sat down and tried to calm his thoughts. It was only a temporary setback. The boy would not survive on the streets for long. He turned and looked at the devices on the shelf tied to the enchantments on the boy's necklace. Unfortunately, he had not paid much attention to them over the years, as he had become complacent, thinking nothing could happen. He should have known better.
His goal of eliminating the Potter family was almost complete. In fact, he held the boy in his hands that Halloween night, and it would have been easy to kill the boy right then and there. His revenge had been postponed, however, due to the existence of the prophecy. Voldemort was still out there, and he needed the boy to fulfil the role of a martyr. The Dark Lord threatened his plans.
After he pronounced the boy dead, he had to hide him away so he could access him when he was needed. The Dursleys were out of the question, as there was the possibility that Minerva might contact them. Eventually, he recruited Arabella Figg and secured her a job as a matron at a small orphanage. It was another layer of protection to have the boy mix in with other orphans. So there was less chance that the boy's true identity would be exposed.
His plan to keep the boy isolated and ignorant had been working flawlessly. The boy would never be admitted to Hogwarts and learn magic. No, he would live a short, miserable life at the orphanage before dying for his cause. It was fitting revenge, and he imagined Charlus Potter rolling in his grave. Unfortunately, the man had robbed him of the pleasure of ending his life when he was killed by Voldemort.
When he first heard that Voldemort had taken credit for killing Charlus and burning the Potter Manor to the ground, he erupted in a terrible fury. He almost destroyed the office in his anger.
Dumbledore rubbed his forehead as a headache formed. There was one last Potter he had overlooked. He felt conflicted about Minerva Potter. When he first spotted her talent in Transfiguration as a young girl, he was incredibly excited. He did not waste any time taking her on as an apprentice and taught her everything he knew. Taking on an apprentice was not something you did lightly in those days, as it involved a ritual that left a mark on the two involved. He thought of her like a daughter. The ritual had fallen out of favour because of its effects on witches and wizards.
When she first told him she was marrying Charlus Potter, he was happy for her. The Potters were a prodigious light family, and he thought he could manipulate them easily. If he could have gotten the Noble and Ancient House of Potter on his side, his plans would have been easier to implement.
When Gellert died, Dumbledore promised to destroy the Potter family, but he hesitated to go after Minerva. He reasoned that she had made a foolish mistake in choosing Charlus Potter. Her punishment would be to see all her family taken from her. Then he could bring her back into the fold, and everything would be alright again.
Alas, that had not happened in the ensuing years. Minerva remained distant from him and even gave up her job as Deputy Headmistress. Something would have to be done eventually, but that would have to wait until he found the boy. If she ever learned of Harry's existence, he would have to kill her. That would break his heart.
He would need to summon his subordinates and search for Harry Potter. The boy will be back in his grasp soon enough.
Charlus watched Minerva sleep on the sofa. After he apparated away from Diagon Alley, he brought her to one of the Potter properties, an apartment in London. He had been afraid that it would no longer belong to the family after all this time, but thankfully, that was not the case. The door opened when he touched it with his wand, and he carried Minerva inside.
He should really wake her up, but he was hesitant to do so, afraid of the inevitable fallout. It was such a calming feeling watching her sleep, looking so peaceful.
When Charlus first awakened, it took him a while to adjust to the fact that he no longer had his family's magic. He felt naked without it, and he knew he would not have the same combat ability he used to have. It was only because of its existence that he beat Grindelwald in the first place. That and the man underestimated him, but it wasn't a surprise. No one outside of his family and close friends knew his true abilities.
Charlus didn't think he could stand up to Dumbledore unless the man had lost his magical strength in the last eighteen years. Therefore, he would have to approach it differently. His advantage was that no one knew besides his wife that he was alive. This would give him time to gather allies and strike against him when he least expected it.
He didn't know how involved Dumbledore was in James' death, but he wouldn't be surprised if he orchestrated the entire thing. Charlus had failed to protect his son, and that knowledge was a burden that he would have to live with for the rest of his life.
The benefit he received from losing the family magic was now he was thinking with more clarity. Compared to before, it was night and day. Before, when he realised that the family magic was affecting his behaviour, he patted himself on the back, thinking he was different. That he had shaken the influence from his mind. However, the way he took off half-cocked to rid himself of family magic without much thought refuted that claim.
Sure, he succeeded and eventually made it out to the other side. But the price was too high. If only he could get his hands on Modor, he would strangle her with his bare hands. Charlus didn't care if she was a goddess and all-powerful. He no longer called her Mother Magic as she did not deserve that honour.
Before he moved against Dumbledore, he needed to see if his grandson was alive. If he wasn't, the Potter family would die with him and his wife.
Minerva's eyes fluttered and slowly opened, looking around in confusion before focusing on Charlus' face.
"Hello, love," Charlus smiled, trying to use his charm to ease the volatility of the situation.
It didn't work. Minerva raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face. Charlus didn't try to avoid it, figuring he deserved that and more. She sat up and folded her arms across her chest in a defensive gesture. The moment stretched out in strained silence. The reunion wasn't going well so far.
"How are you alive?" Minerva asked finally.
Charlus grimaced before telling her the entire story, beginning when he left the manor and leading to the moment he was petrified. He looked at her expression after finishing the story, trying to gauge her mood. She was expressionless, but he knew his wife well. This was the precursor to a verbal beatdown.
"Why didn't you tell me before setting off on your little adventure?" Minerva exploded. "Awa' n' bile your heed, you fuckin' roaster. You have a face like a well skelped erse."
The tirade didn't end until she exhausted all her colourful vocabulary. Charlie kept his head bowed through it all, knowing he deserved it all and more. When she fell silent, he raised his head again. His wife had moved to the drinks bar and was rummaging through it. She grabbed a bottle of single malt whisky and a glass before returning to the sofa.
Minerva poured herself a drink and swallowed it in one go, grimacing. She poured herself another glass before downing that as well. When she was about to serve herself a third, Charlie reached out and grabbed the bottle from her.
"What are you doing?" Charlie asked.
"I thought that was obvious," Minerva scowled. "I am getting shit-faced drunk. It has served me well on plenty of occasions over the past eighteen years."
"I don't like seeing you like this," Charlus whispered.
Minerva threw the glass over his shoulder, and when it hit the opposite wall, it exploded into pieces. She burst into tears, and she started crying in earnest. Charlie sat on the sofa next to her and gathered her in his arms.
"I'm so sorry," he said, repeating it over and over again like a mantra. Charlus felt his heart tighten at the sounds she was making, and it wasn't long before he was silently crying as well. They had lost so much, but compared to her, he had gotten off easy. He did not have to live with grief for eighteen years. Hopefully one day they could return to something like they used to be.
They stayed there like that for what felt like hours before Minerva moved away and began composing herself. Charlus gave her some space and vanished the shattered glass on the floor with a wave of his wand.
"Voldemort killed my babies." Minerva sniffed. "James and his son Harry."
"Love, I'm sorry about James. If only I had done things differently," Charlus said. "But I won't be convinced Harry is dead until I can prove it with my own eyes."
"What do you mean?" Minerva clenched her hands in her lap. "Dumbledore said so himself. He arrived at the cottage first. After the explosion, he said nothing was left of his body.
Charlus leaned forward with interest. "How big was the explosion?"
"It took out half the roof in Harry's nursery," Minerva replied with a frown. "Why?"
"Love, an explosion of that size cannot vaporise a body, even a baby. Hell, if the explosion were ten times as big, it still would leave body parts behind."
Due to his fascination with Muggle warfare, he learned a lot about the subject. He knew how a typical explosion worked, so he felt confident in his statement. Unless there was some other form of magic at play that night, he was certain that Harry had not simply been obliterated.
Minerva stared at her hands in shock. "Surely, there must be a reasonable explanation."
"Love, we have had this conversation before. I have shared all my suspicions about Dumbledore. When you put every little bit of evidence together, there is no doubt he is after the Potter family."
"But-" Minerva began.
"I know we disagreed on this in the past," Charlus interrupted. "But can you at least admit that your apprenticeship bond is colouring your judgement?"
"It's not like I trust him that much anymore," Minerva said. "We haven't been that close since my life was torn apart a second time that Halloween night. I started to notice some inconsistencies in his words and behaviour. But I had already resigned myself to Harry's loss that I never considered another explanation."
Charlus rose from his seat and said, "If he is out there, we need to find him. Dumbledore would have hidden him well, so I don't expect it to be easy."
"There are still a few weeks until I have to return to Hogwarts," Minerva said with renewed determination. "If I were Dumbledore, I would have hidden him in the Muggle world."
"Then let's get started tomorrow," Charlus smiled.
The next day, Harry woke up on the floor in the back room. When he was cleaning up the shop, he found a musty old blanket that looked like it had been there forever. It would have to do until he could obtain another one.
It was difficult for him to sleep last night because he was afraid Mrs Figg would find him. Or maybe the people who wrecked the place would return. Aside from that, he was unnerved by the sounds of police sirens and shouting coming from outside the shop. This was something he was not used to hearing at the orphanage. Eventually, he succumbed to sleep since he was so exhausted after a day of upheaval.
Harry opened the small fridge in the kitchen area and was happy to see it was stocked with food. Lewis spent most of his time in the shop, so he usually prepared his food here. He opened one of the cupboards and spotted some porridge. That would do for sustenance.
Fifteen minutes later, Harry was finished with breakfast, and he wandered back into the shop. Since he couldn't venture outside because he was afraid of being seen, this would be his new reality for a while. Of course, with his new ability to keep him occupied, that wasn't really an issue.
The shop looked like its old self, although there were many items missing from the shelves due to them being broken or unusable. He sorted them into two different piles in the corner of the room. One of them being stuff he could repair and the other that would have to be thrown out.
He stared at the front door with concern. He really should secure the door in case of visitors at some point. Since he lacked supplies, he would have to settle for pushing something against it to impede anyone who got in. It wasn't much, as the door swung outwards. There was also a back door, but he needed that to be kept clear so he could escape. He assumed people's natural inclination was to come through the front door.
He pushed a heavy armoire wardrobe forward to block the doorway. It took him a lot of effort to move it from its location, and he was sweating by the time he was finished. Wiping his brow, he nodded in satisfaction. Now he could get to exploring his ability further.
Harry discovered that he could summon the book with his mind. Retrieving the book, he browsed through it quickly, but there weren't any new messages. Only by levelling up could he unlock more features. He turned to the pile of broken items with a smile.
Three hours later, he had a number of repaired objects sitting back on the shelf, and he was halfway to the next level. He had made some initial observations about the mechanics of his ability. In terms of repairs, the items varied in complexity and difficulty, which affected the amount of experience he received. It averaged out to about twenty-five experience per hour, so it would take him another four hours to level up if that trend continued.
The skill experience he received was half as much as general experience, but he wasn't sure if that was always the case or simply because the experience was shared between the two skills. If there was an activity in the future that used three skills simultaneously, would it then be split into a third?
Looking at the pile of items still on the floor, he frowned. It should be enough to level him up, but nothing beyond that. If he wanted more items to repair, then he would have to venture outside and scavenge in a junkyard or rubbish tip. Harry shook his head. That was a problem for later.
Almost four hours later, the symbol on his hand glowed, and Harry grinned. Retrieving the book, he opened it to read the new message.
The host has reached Level 3!
The Skills list has been unlocked and can now be accessed from the Index page.
100 pounds obtained.
Progress to level 4: 304/600
Level 4 Unlocks:
Feature: Tasks
Item(s): Quills, ink and parchment.
The money was a nice addition. He had some savings, but he didn't know how long he would be here, and he would need to buy more food eventually. Of course, he had a shop full of items he could sell, but it's not like he could open for business with him only being twelve, almost thirteen years old.
The reward for the next level confused him. What would he need a quill for? Or parchment? Is it possible that he travelled a few centuries back in time? Dismissing it for now, he turned the page and saw that the new feature was now available on page four.
The skills page was pretty basic. It was a list of the current skills he had and was sorted into different categories. He was surprised, however, to see that he had more than just the two skills he had acquired.
Passive Skills
***Mental Resistance 1 [xxxx] - It gives the host a passive ability to resist any magic that seeks to manipulate, control or alter their mind in some way. This skill cannot be levelled typically, so the next level must be acquired by other means.
***Dexterity 1 [152/2000] - Basically, it refers to how skilled and graceful the host is with his hands. This greatly affects all crafting professions and activities that require dexterity.
Technical Skills
*Maintenance 1 [152/500] - The maintenance skill determines the host's expertise in inspecting, diagnosing and solving problems with various items and equipment. It also affects the hosts' ability to perform basic repairs on them or take preventative measures to ensure their longevity.
The new skill explained why he could remove the necklace. While he was glad for its help, it brought up the question of how much of him was actually bonded to the Source. If it could affect his mind in such a way, then it could potentially alter him with impunity, and he would be helpless to resist. Harry couldn't assume that this power, or whatever it was, had his best interests at heart. He could not deny, though, that he would still be stuck in the orphanage if it wasn't for its existence.
The page didn't explain much further about the skills, but he did notice one thing. There was a star next to the skill's name, and if he were to guess, it denoted its rank. It took a lot more experience to level them up, but he assumed that they would be more powerful or have more utility than the ones of a lower rank.
Harry put the book away and stood up, stretching. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he skipped lunch to chase his level-up. It was time for a break anyway. After feeding himself a quick lunch of cheese sandwiches, Harry grabbed the comic and sat in Lewis' old chair behind the counter, and began reading.
Gambit was the definition of cool, and his powers were amazing. He could create, control, and manipulate pure kinetic energy according to his desires. One of his main weapons was charging playing cards and other objects with kinetic energy, using them as explosive projectiles. If only he could do something like that, it would be awesome.
Harry paused. Was that something he could achieve with magic? He didn't have any clear idea of what it was capable of outside of enchantments...wait a minute! Was it possible to apply runes to playing cards? Or could they only be applied to crystals like the jade necklace? Even if they could be applied to other materials, he didn't know the scope of runes' true capabilities. Judging by the various enchantments added to the necklace, he imagined that the range of applications was enormous.
He already knew that runes had to be magically charged to activate, so theoretically, he could replicate Gambit's ability. Incredible excitement gripped him. If this was possible, he could be as badass as Gambit. He could just imagine roaming the streets and throwing explosive cards at bad guys who tried to mess with him.
As soon as he realised his excitement was getting out of hand, he cooled off. At the moment, it was only a pipe dream. He did not have access to magic currently, so it would have to wait.
He needed to find another avenue to gain experience since he had run out of things to fix. Then an idea occurred to him, and he scrambled out from behind the counter and approached the nearest shelf. Harry grabbed a ceramic vase and placed it on the counter. After digging through his tool bag, he pulled out a hammer and some quick-setting epoxy.
Harry carefully broke off a piece of the vase at the top and carefully applied epoxy to the edge. He attached the broken piece and held it in place for a second. In order to make sure it had been set properly, he waited ten minutes.
He did not get any experience. Disappointed, Harry placed the vase back on the shelf. It seems that he couldn't purposely break something and then fix it up. It was a nice idea because it meant that he would have had an infinite amount of experience at his disposal.
There was another method. He thought back to when he first opened the book and gained two skills. He got them as a result of his real-life actions. Did that mean if he repeated an action long enough, he could get a skill from it? And what were the limits?
Casting his mind around for a skill to learn, he decided to see if he could get one for something as simple as jumping. For the next ten minutes, he exhausted himself, jumping up and down on the spot, but the only thing he got for his efforts was a stitch on his side and the realisation that he was out of shape. He may need something more substantial.
Not deterred, he thought for a moment before reaching down below the counter and pulling out a hidden drawer where Lewis had kept his weapons. It wasn't a safe neighbourhood, and you had to learn to protect yourself from thieves by force if necessary. Most of the weapons had been removed from the drawer, but there was still a penknife and a handgun with some boxes of ammo. Ignoring the gun for now, he grabbed the knife.
Harry unfolded the blade and ran his thumb across the edge, and it drew some blood. Harry grimaced. It was certainly sharp enough. Next, he set up a cardboard box on the counter as a makeshift target and retreated a few steps. He held the handle and drew back his arm, and threw it. The knife flipped through the air and made contact with the box but with the handle and not the blade. This may take some work.
For the next hour, he continued to throw the knife and made steady improvements. Despite his efforts, he did not gain a skill. Putting the knife in his pocket, he sat down in disappointment. Drumming his fingers on the counter, he tried to figure out what he was doing wrong.
He retrieved the book again and looked at his skills. The only thing he could think of was that his skills were related to his expertise with his hands. What about the mental resistance skill? But that was not something he learned, it was something he obtained from the Source. So that probably didn't factor into the equation.
Maybe he could only learn skills related to crafting. Deciding to test the idea, Harry searched among the shelves. He was sure there was a model aeroplane kit somewhere. Spotting it sandwiched between two jigsaw puzzles, he grabbed it and returned to the counter.
It was a simple design with wood pieces that used glue to fix them together. Harry opened the box and got started assembling the plane. He worked swiftly and dexterously, not making a single mistake as he assembled the whole thing.
An hour later, he stared at the finished model with satisfaction. It was surprisingly satisfying to build something. Why had he only used his talents to repair things in the past? The symbol glowed, and Harry brought out the book to read the new message.
The host has constructed a wooden model aeroplane.
General Exp: + 40
Skill Exp: [Construction 1, Dexterity 1] + 20
Progress to level 4: 344/600
The host has acquired the following skill:
**Construction 1 [20/1000] - Construction consists of a wide range of skills that assist in the building and assembly of something, either through the use of your hands or using machines. At the first level, the skill only aids in small projects but they increase in size and complexity at higher levels.
So it seems the Source gave him skills related to crafting and trade professions. He couldn't say he was disappointed, as he loved working with his hands.
Harry noticed that he got more experience from building the model aeroplane than repairing the clock, even though he only spent half the time on it. It was evident that this was the direction he should be pursuing, so he would be building a lot of stuff going forward.
Where should he start?
So what do you think? There is not going to be a convenient system that tells Harry everything. He needs to figure things out on his own.
Thanks for reading.
