As Harry stepped into Number Four, Privet Drive, an almost tangible weight pressed down on him. The familiar, antiseptic smell hit his nose, mixing with the overpowering scent of Aunt Petunia's floral air freshener. The usual unpleasantness of it was heightened by the reminder of why he was here and what was at stake.

The ding of the Gamer System flashed in his mind, pulling him back to his most important task: staying in control. This wasn't just about avoiding trouble—it was about everything he'd been working toward since he'd returned to Privet Drive.

System Notification: Quest Active

Quest: A Showdown at Home

Objective: Avoid escalating conflict with the Dursleys and prevent any accidental magic. Additional objectives may be added throughout the quest.

Rewards: +1000 XP, +2 to all stats, Occlumency skill unlocked.

Failure Penalty: Forced time-skip to age 7; all stats reduced by 20%.

Harry read the notification carefully, feeling the importance of each word settle heavily on his shoulders. He was determined to succeed. He'd faced too much, worked too hard for each ounce of progress, and risked so much to improve himself. Losing it all now would be more than a setback; it would be a painful erasure of every small victory he'd fought to achieve.

He took a deep, measured breath, letting the air expand in his chest before releasing it slowly. "I can do this," he murmured under his breath, more to steady his nerves than to convince himself. Each creak of the floorboards, each sound from the kitchen, felt amplified in the quiet of the house. The stakes had never felt this high.

System Notification: Quest Objective

Objective: Gauge each Dursley's mood to ensure a safe approach.

Harry straightened, his gaze darting around the living room as he activated his Observation skill, gathering as much information as he could about the Dursleys' current mood.

Aunt Petunia was in the kitchen, her form a blur in the background as she fussed over something at the counter. From the sharp glances she cast his way, it was clear she was keeping a close eye on him. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and her movements were quick, jerky—a sign, he knew, of her underlying tension. He'd seen that look enough to know that she was already wound tight and that the smallest infraction could set her off.

Harry's gaze shifted to Dudley, who was sprawled on the couch with one hand shoved deep into a bag of crisps, the other gripping a chocolate bar. A smear of chocolate was visible on his chin, and his lips curled into a mocking smirk as he noticed Harry looking. Harry's stomach tightened. Dudley looked more than ready to turn him into the day's entertainment, his eyes gleaming with that all-too-familiar gleeful malice.

Then, finally, there was Uncle Vernon. Even from across the room, Harry could see the slight flush on Vernon's face as he sat, practically scowling, behind his newspaper. Every few seconds, his thick fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on the arm of his chair, his brow creasing as he mumbled barely-audible complaints.

System Notification: Task Progress

Observation Successful: +10 XP

Harry let out a small, careful sigh of relief at the notification. He could tell that his judgment had been right; he'd managed to get a good read on each of them. Years of living here had taught him that each Dursley required a different approach, a specific strategy for avoiding confrontation. And today, he'd need all of his strategies to keep himself in line.

Stay calm. Remember the rewards, he reminded himself. The Occlumency skill alone would be invaluable in the years ahead. From his experiences in his past life, he knew that mastering Occlumency would mean being able to control his emotions better, to guard his thoughts and memories. It would be a kind of armor, something to help him build strength on his own terms.

But the penalty—that was what stuck with him, casting a dark shadow over his thoughts. The forced time-skip loomed in his mind, a terrifying prospect that would steal away everything he'd gained. 20% of his stats (which was much of the growth that he'd achieved since his resurrection) would fade. The possibility of waking up three years later, diminished, made his heart clench with dread.

He shook his head slightly, pulling himself back into the present. Now wasn't the time for worrying about failure. He was halfway through this quest, and he'd been careful so far. He would get through it. He had to.

"Just stay calm," he whispered again, willing himself to keep that mantra in mind. Each second he held steady felt like another small victory, another step closer to completing the quest unscathed. He had to focus on what was right in front of him—starting with Dudley.

Harry's gaze returned to his cousin, who was now watching him with barely-contained amusement. He braced himself, knowing that Dudley wasn't one to miss an opportunity to make Harry's life difficult. And sure enough, Dudley's smirk widened as he set down his chocolate and pushed himself up from the couch, his hand brushing crumbs off his shirt.

System Notification: Sub-Quest Activated

Sub-Quest: Handling Dudley's Taunts

Objective: Endure Dudley's teasing without reacting or displaying accidental magic.

Reward: +50 XP, +1 to Social Interaction.

Dudley took a few exaggerated steps closer, his wide grin revealing chocolate-stained teeth. He eyed Harry up and down, then gave a snort. "Still wearing my old clothes, are you?" Dudley sneered, his tone dripping with contempt. "Guess that's all you're good for—being secondhand."

Harry forced his face into a neutral expression, holding back the instinctive irritation that rose up at Dudley's words. He'd heard it all before, of course, but the way Dudley twisted his words, knowing just how to hit where it hurt, always grated on him. He focused on keeping his breathing slow and steady, his hands loose at his sides. This is just part of the quest, he reminded himself. He's trying to provoke you.

"Bit big on you, isn't it?" Dudley continued, stepping closer so that he was looming over Harry, a smug smile spreading across his face. "Looks like you're swimming in it." He reached forward and flicked the collar of Harry's shirt, pulling it a little to exaggerate his point.

Harry kept his gaze fixed just over Dudley's shoulder, not giving his cousin the satisfaction of eye contact. "It's fine," he replied, aiming for a neutral, bored tone.

Dudley's smirk faltered slightly, clearly not expecting Harry to respond with such indifference. But Harry could feel the heat building in his chest, a flicker of anger at the unfairness of it all. He clamped down on the feeling, repeating his mantra: Stay calm. It's not worth it.

Dudley, undeterred, leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a mocking whisper. "I bet Mrs. Figg made you her little servant, huh? Running errands for that old cat lady? Must be nice, being someone's pet."

Harry's hand twitched involuntarily, but he caught himself, forcing it to stay still. Dudley didn't know what he was talking about. If he'd actually seen Mrs. Figg's house or spent time with her, he wouldn't be taunting Harry about it. But that didn't matter—Harry's goal was not to win a verbal sparring match. His goal was survival.

So, instead of responding, Harry took a breath and gave the faintest of shrugs, hoping his disinterest would finally bore Dudley enough to leave him alone.

"Oh, so now you're ignoring me?" Dudley asked, his voice rising.

Harry kept his expression carefully blank, even as Dudley's words bit at him like tiny barbs. Dudley's taunts weren't new, but they never failed to stir something bitter and resentful in the pit of Harry's stomach. It would have been so easy to lash out, to let his frustration out in one, quick retort.

Instead, he focused on his breathing, feeling the cold air fill his lungs and release slowly, steadying him. He knew Dudley was looking for a reaction; that was part of his cousin's entertainment. Harry thought of the System's promise of rewards—Occlumency, more stats, the chance to protect his thoughts and emotions better. If he could get through this calmly, if he could hold his tongue just a little longer, it would all be worth it.

"Cat got your tongue?" Dudley mocked, his grin widening as he leaned closer. "Come on, let's hear it. Got something clever to say, freak?"

Harry remained silent, refusing to rise to the bait. Dudley's smile faltered briefly, and Harry sensed the faintest twinge of triumph—his cousin was starting to lose interest.

But Dudley's gaze narrowed, his smirk fading as he realized Harry wasn't giving him anything to work with. His face twisted into a sneer as he leaned in again. "You're lucky Mum and Dad let you stay here at all," Dudley hissed. "Without us, you'd be on the street, starving. You'd be nothing."

The words stung, sharper than Harry had anticipated. He could feel the anger clawing at him, like a spark catching fire, trying to break through his careful control. He forced himself to stay calm, repeating his mental mantra: Stay calm. Don't let him win.

But Dudley wasn't done. He took a step back, his expression morphing into a cruel smile. He raised his voice, loud enough that anyone nearby could hear, putting on a mocking, theatrical tone. "You're nothing but a charity case, Potter. Living in the cupboard, wearing other people's old clothes—pathetic."

Harry felt his hands clench reflexively, and he squeezed them tighter, nails digging into his palms to ground himself. The memory of his cupboard stung, but he wouldn't let Dudley see that. He could almost feel the magic stirring beneath his skin, his frustration feeding it, and he took a deep breath, centering himself. He needed to focus on the present, not the memories of the cupboard, the cold, and the loneliness.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady, carefully controlled. "Think what you like, Dudley," he said quietly, "but it doesn't make it true."

The simplicity of the response seemed to throw Dudley off for a moment, but he quickly recovered, scowling as he stepped back. "Whatever, freak," he muttered, clearly disappointed by Harry's calm reaction.

Dudley took a few heavy steps back toward the couch, stuffing his hand into the bag of crisps again. Harry watched him go, feeling a small surge of satisfaction. He'd handled it. He hadn't risen to the bait, hadn't snapped or let his magic get the best of him.

System Notification: Task Complete

Sub-Quest Completed: "Handling Dudley's Taunts"

Reward: +50 XP, +1 to Social Interaction

Harry exhaled a long, quiet breath, his eyes scanning the System notification as he felt the small reward register in his stats. The slight boost in Social Interaction was a small but welcome reminder that his strategy was working. Staying calm under Dudley's taunts had been his first real test, and he'd managed it. He hadn't let the anger consume him, hadn't let his magic slip free.

For a moment, he let himself feel the accomplishment of the small victory. This was more than just earning points—this was proof that he was learning to control himself, to withstand the pressure without crumbling. He could handle this. The rest of the quest was within reach if he stayed focused.

But as he shifted his weight, preparing to head upstairs, he caught movement from the corner of his eye. Aunt Petunia was watching him from the kitchen doorway, her arms crossed and her mouth twisted into a thin, suspicious line. Her gaze swept over him, cold and assessing, like he was something distasteful she had to inspect.

The confidence Harry had felt only moments before ebbed slightly under the weight of her stare. He knew that look; she was searching for any hint of "unnaturalness" in him, waiting for even the smallest sign of something out of place.

System Notification: Sub-Quest Activated

Sub-Quest: Diffusing Petunia's Suspicion

Objective: Avoid drawing Aunt Petunia's ire or confirming her suspicions.

Reward: +50 XP, +1 to Deception.

Harry straightened, summoning his Deception skill to mask his discomfort under a neutral, almost docile expression. Aunt Petunia's gaze flickered down to his shoes, then back up to his face, her lips tightening as if she were holding back some biting comment. Harry kept his eyes carefully lowered, hoping that looking smaller, less confrontational, would ease her scrutiny.

Petunia's voice cut through the silence, sharp and clipped. "I hope you weren't causing any trouble at Mrs. Figg's," she said, her tone brimming with accusation even before he could respond. "The last thing we need is her thinking we've got a… problem on our hands."

Harry swallowed, willing himself to remain calm. He could feel her gaze digging into him, and every instinct told him to shrink back, to make himself even smaller, to avoid whatever anger might follow. He couldn't afford to let his frustration slip through.

"No, Aunt Petunia," he replied, his voice low and deferential. "I only did what you asked—went there and came straight back."

Her eyes narrowed as she took in his answer, her suspicion far from eased. Harry knew that Petunia had never fully trusted him, never believed that he could be "normal" enough for her. He could feel the weight of her expectation pressing down on him, as if she were daring him to slip up, to reveal something that would confirm her worst fears.

"Good," she snapped finally, her tone laced with warning. "We don't need anyone talking about us. Keep yourself out of sight and out of trouble, or you'll regret it."

Harry nodded, forcing himself to keep his gaze lowered. "Of course," he murmured, keeping his tone as humble as possible. Every word felt like swallowing bitterness, but he held his expression steady, his hands folded behind his back to avoid showing any tension.

The notification for the completed sub-quest flashed in his mind, and he felt the small boost in Deception register. The slight success was a relief, another step closer to completing the quest. He'd managed to stay composed, to navigate Petunia's suspicion without giving her any reason to pry further. He'd kept himself hidden in plain sight.

But as Aunt Petunia's gaze finally moved away, he noticed the shadow standing in the doorway to the living room. His heart sank as he looked up to see Uncle Vernon, arms crossed, his face a mask of barely contained irritation.

Vernon's eyes narrowed as they locked onto Harry, and Harry felt his earlier confidence waver. The small successes with Dudley and Petunia had been a relief, but this was the real test. He could already sense that Vernon was in one of his darker moods, the kind that rarely ended without him raising his voice. Harry braced himself, feeling the familiar dread settle into his stomach.

He couldn't afford to lose control now, not after coming this far.

Harry's gaze remained fixed on the floor as Uncle Vernon's footsteps drew closer, each step a reminder of how fragile his situation was. He could feel the walls closing in around him, the weight of the quest penalty looming large in his mind. This wasn't just a matter of handling Vernon's anger; it was about safeguarding every stat point, every skill, every ounce of control he'd spent weeks cultivating. If he failed here, if he let his frustration slip, he'd lose everything he'd worked for.

System Notification: Task Update

New Task Generated: Endure Vernon's Reprimand

Objective: Remain calm and avoid reacting to Uncle Vernon's anger, preventing any accidental magical outburst.

Failure Consequence: Increased probability of time-skip penalty.

Harry read the task notification as his uncle's looming presence grew closer, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over him. Harry kept his hands at his sides, tightly gripping the fabric of Dudley's oversized shirt to keep them from trembling. He couldn't show any sign of nerves. He had to stand his ground, even if that meant keeping his emotions under a thick layer of self-control.

"Boy," Vernon spat, his voice low and threatening, each word laced with barely restrained fury, "I don't know what kind of nonsense you think you're pulling, but I'll have none of it in my house."

Harry's gaze flickered up briefly, just enough to see the anger etched into his uncle's expression, the tightness in his clenched jaw. He immediately lowered his eyes again, focusing on the familiar tan carpet, trying to tune out Vernon's words. He told himself he could handle this—that his Meditation skill would carry him through this confrontation. Stay calm, stay in control.

Uncle Vernon's voice rose, cutting through the silence with an edge that felt like sandpaper grating against Harry's skin. "I won't have any of your freakishness in my home, do you understand? After everything we've done for you, the least you could do is pretend to be normal!"

Harry swallowed, his throat dry, each word from Vernon landing like a small blow. He kept his breathing steady, pulling in slow, deep breaths. The anger simmering beneath his skin was barely held in check, but he forced himself to think of the bigger picture. Each breath was a small reminder of what he was protecting, of the progress he'd made and the future he was trying to safeguard.

Stay calm. Think of the rewards. Think of Occlumency.

But Vernon wasn't finished. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, boy."

The demand echoed in Harry's ears, sending a small shiver down his spine. Every instinct told him to keep his eyes down, to avoid any hint of defiance, but Vernon's tone left no room for refusal. Slowly, Harry lifted his gaze, meeting his uncle's furious eyes.

The hatred in Vernon's glare was almost tangible, a force pressing down on Harry with all the weight of unspoken threats. "You think you're clever, don't you?" Vernon sneered. "Think you can play innocent, pretend you're not one of those... pretend you're not a freak."

Harry felt a pang of frustration cut through his composure, the familiar sting of being reminded of his otherness, his isolation within the very place he was supposed to call home. His grip tightened on his shirt, his knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to respond. He could feel the magic stirring beneath the surface, a dangerous, flickering energy that he knew he had to contain. One wrong move, one moment of lost control, and he could lose everything.

"I didn't do anything," Harry said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He kept his tone as respectful as he could, swallowing back the bitter words he wanted to throw at his uncle.

Vernon's face darkened, his eyes narrowing. "Didn't do anything, did you? I know your type. Always lurking about, acting strange, thinking you're better than us." His voice grew louder, more forceful. "But I won't stand for it. Not in my house."

Harry could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat a reminder of the anger building up inside him. His Meditation skill wavered, the calm he'd fought so hard to hold onto slipping through his grasp like sand. He thought of all the times he'd been forced to stand here, to listen to these tirades, unable to say anything, unable to defend himself.

System Notification: Warning – Emotional Stability at Risk

The notification flashed in his mind, a stark reminder of the thin line he was treading. He couldn't let himself slip. The stakes were too high. He tried to focus on his breathing, on the sense of control he'd built, but Vernon's words kept hammering at him, each one a fresh sting.

"You're just a burden on this family, you know that?" Vernon continued, his voice laced with venom. "We feed you, clothe you, and this—this is how you repay us? Acting strange, making trouble—no wonder your parents left you. They knew exactly what kind of problem you'd be."

The words hit Harry harder than he expected. He could feel his control slipping, the anger flaring hotter, his magic stirring like a storm beneath his skin. The unfairness of it all pressed down on him—the lies, the constant reminders of his otherness, the isolation. He felt a flicker of heat in his palms, the faintest shimmer of magic beginning to manifest.

No, he thought desperately, not now. He forced his hands into fists, trying to ground himself, to keep the magic from breaking free. He couldn't afford to lose control here, not with everything he'd worked for on the line.

But Vernon seemed to sense the crack in his composure, his sneer widening as he leaned closer. "You're nothing, boy. Just a freak, just a waste of space. You're lucky we even tolerate you in this house."

Harry's breathing quickened, his focus slipping with each passing second. He could feel the magic pulsing under his skin, a volatile force he was struggling to contain. The weight of Vernon's words, the anger simmering beneath the surface, all of it threatened to break through his restraint.

System Notification: Penalty Triggered – Vernon's Suspicion Raised

The notification jolted him, and he realized, with a sinking feeling, that Vernon had noticed the faint shimmer of magic in his clenched fists. His uncle's expression twisted into one of disgust and fury, his face turning an alarming shade of red.

"Did you just…?" Vernon's voice was a low, dangerous growl. He took a step back, his eyes widening in horror. "You dare—in my house?"

Harry's heart pounded as he tried to shove the magic back down, forcing himself to stay calm. But the look on Vernon's face, the disgust and revulsion, made the task feel insurmountable.

"You little… freak!" Vernon bellowed, his voice rising to a shout that echoed through the house. "After all we've done for you, this is how you repay us?"

Harry felt his control slipping even further, the anger and frustration bubbling up as Vernon's words hammered at him. He thought of everything he'd endured, the loneliness, the isolation, the constant reminders of his status as an outsider in this house. The unfairness of it all pressed down on him, his magic flickering just beneath the surface, begging to be unleashed.

"I didn't… mean to…" he started, his voice choked with a mixture of anger and desperation. But the words sounded weak, hollow, even to his own ears. Vernon's shouting had shattered his focus, the fragile calm he'd clung to slipping through his grasp.

"You freakish little monster!" Vernon's voice thundered, his face contorted in rage. "Get out of my sight. Go crawl back to that filthy cupboard where you belong!"

Harry's vision blurred, his body tense with barely-contained anger and frustration. He could feel the magic roiling beneath his skin, his Meditation skill slipping as he fought to keep it in check.

System Notification: Task Failed

Task: Endure Vernon's Reprimand – Failed

Penalty: Increased probability of forced time-skip penalty.

The notification was a cold, crushing weight in his mind. He'd failed. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, his earlier successes fading in the wake of this setback. He'd worked so hard, held back so much, but it hadn't been enough. The penalty loomed over him, a dark shadow threatening to consume everything he'd fought for.

But Vernon wasn't finished. If anything, the glimmer of accidental magic had only fueled his anger. He stepped forward, his voice a roar that filled the small hallway. "You listen to me, boy—you are nothing, do you understand? Nothing. You're lucky we even let you breathe under this roof."

The words cut deeper than Harry expected, each one a fresh blow to his already bruised pride. He'd spent so long building himself up, working to become something stronger, someone with control. But here, in this house, under Vernon's furious gaze, he felt that progress slipping away.

Harry's breath hitched as Vernon's words echoed in his mind, each syllable like a stone sinking to the pit of his stomach. The System notification reminding him of his failure lingered in his thoughts, taunting him with the loss he was about to face. Every ounce of progress he'd clawed his way toward—gone, if he couldn't rein in his emotions now. It was a terrifying thought, and his heart beat faster as he struggled to keep himself grounded.

He swallowed, his throat dry, the fear mixing with his frustration in a potent, volatile combination. Vernon's words cut deeply, but it was the truth of his predicament that stung most. Here he was, fighting to keep control, to stay calm, and it felt like he was losing. He was inches away from unleashing something he couldn't take back, and every word from his uncle was another strike against his crumbling defenses.

System Notification: Warning – Emotional Stability Critical

The words flashed in his mind like a warning siren, reminding him of the precariousness of his situation. He squeezed his eyes shut briefly, blocking out Vernon's furious face, focusing on the system's words instead. The idea of the time-skip haunted him—the notion of waking up three years older, his progress gone, his strength diminished. The thought filled him with a cold dread.

But it was his anger, sharp and hot, that simmered just below the surface, refusing to fully dissipate. He thought of all the nights he'd spent in his cupboard, planning, dreaming of a day he might leave the Dursleys behind for good. He thought of every instance of unfairness, of the times he'd gone hungry or taken the blame for Dudley's troublemaking, and his fingers twitched, the magic in him clawing to be set free.

Vernon seemed to sense the shift in Harry's focus and leaned in, his face red with rage. "Don't you ignore me, boy! You think you can just stand there, silent, pretending you're above us?"

Harry didn't respond, afraid that even one word might be enough to shatter the already-fragile barrier he'd built around his emotions. He stared at the floor, willing the magic within him to subside, to settle into the quiet he'd fought so hard to create.

But Vernon's voice only grew louder, his fury unrelenting. "Look at you! You think you're better than us, don't you? With your strange ways and your freakishness… You're nothing, you hear me? Just a worthless, ungrateful little…"

The words blurred together as Harry's vision swam, anger and pain twisting together inside him. He knew that every insult was meant to provoke, to belittle him. But this was more than just Vernon's hatred—it was the System, challenging him, testing his resolve. And he was failing.

He forced himself to focus on his breathing, on the sensation of the floor beneath his feet. I'm better than this, he told himself. I can get through this. But the mantra felt hollow, empty, as if his own mind didn't believe it anymore.

System Notification: Critical Alert – Imminent Quest Failure

The notification jolted him, the System's words slicing through his thoughts with cold finality. Imminent quest failure. He was running out of time. His control was slipping through his fingers, and there was no turning back if he let it break completely.

He closed his eyes, feeling the sting of impending loss. He thought of the stat points he'd spent hours building, the skills he'd worked to develop. He remembered the rewards he'd been promised—the precious Occlumency skill that could shield his mind, the increased stats that would help him grow stronger. And it would all vanish if he couldn't rein in his emotions now.

"I didn't… mean to…" he mumbled, barely managing to get the words out, his voice strangled and low.

Vernon sneered, his lip curling with disdain. "Didn't mean to what, boy? Didn't mean to cause trouble, didn't mean to bring your freakishness into my house?"

The final word rang out like a slap, and Harry felt his resolve fracture, the weight of everything pressing down on him in a rush of anger and despair. He was tired—tired of always being the one to hold back, to swallow his pain, to hide himself away. His whole life felt like one endless exercise in restraint, and he was exhausted.

A faint shimmer of magic flickered around his hands, a warning sign he couldn't ignore, and he quickly clenched his fists, trying to smother the magic before Vernon noticed. But it was too late. Vernon's eyes widened, his face twisting into a look of horror and disgust.

"You… you little freak!" Vernon shouted, his voice filled with rage and disbelief. "In my house? You think you can pull your… your nonsense under my roof?"

Harry's pulse pounded in his ears as he tried to contain the magic, to force it back down. But Vernon's words kept coming, louder, harsher, each one striking him like a physical blow.

"After everything we've done for you… this is how you repay us? With your unnaturalness, your… your freakish ways!" Vernon's voice was growing louder, a furious roar that filled the hallway. "You'll be sorry, boy, mark my words. I'll make sure of it."

Harry's vision blurred as the weight of the words settled over him, a mixture of anger and sadness twisting painfully in his chest. He could feel his control slipping, the magic within him pushing against the restraints he'd tried so desperately to enforce. The thought of failing, of watching everything he'd built crumble away, was almost too much to bear.

The System had warned him—repeatedly—and he'd ignored it, thinking he could handle the situation on his own. But he was beginning to realize just how wrong he'd been. He was losing control, and the System was ready to exact its penalty.

System Notification: Quest Failure Imminent – Time-Skip Penalty Activation Likely

The notification's cold, unfeeling words struck him with brutal clarity. Imminent failure. Time-skip penalty. It wasn't just a warning anymore; it was a promise. The System was telling him that he'd reached his limit, that his control was too fragile to withstand the intensity of his emotions any longer.

"No…" he whispered, his voice choked with desperation. He felt himself teetering on the edge, the weight of failure pressing down on him with a finality that felt suffocating.

But Vernon's fury was unrelenting. "I've had enough of this," he snarled. "Go on, get out of my sight, you miserable little pest. Back to your cupboard, where you belong!"

The words hit Harry with a force that nearly broke him. Every shred of progress, every small victory—it all felt meaningless under Vernon's rage, as if nothing he did would ever be enough to escape this life. The time-skip penalty loomed in his mind, a specter of lost years, diminished stats, and erased progress.

His hands trembled as he tried one last time to hold on, to keep the magic from bursting free. But the exhaustion, the despair, the anger—it was all too much. And the System's relentless reminders of his failure only served to deepen the crushing weight pressing down on him.

System Notification: Quest Failed

Quest: A Showdown at Home – Failed

Penalty: Forced time-skip to age 7; all stats reduced by 20%.

The final notification echoed in his mind, a crushing, undeniable reality. He'd failed. Every effort, every careful moment of restraint, had led to this. He could feel the weight of the penalty settling over him, a suffocating shroud that seemed to drain the air from his lungs.

As Vernon's voice continued in the background, growing more distant, Harry felt himself slipping, the System penalty beginning to take effect. The edges of his vision blurred, his surroundings growing hazy and indistinct, as if the world were dissolving around him.

A wave of panic surged through him, mingling with the helplessness already lodged in his chest. He was losing everything—every hard-won stat point, every skill, every ounce of progress he'd fought for with such determination. It was all slipping away, falling from his grasp like grains of sand.

He tried to reach for something, anything to anchor himself, but his thoughts were fading, blurring into one another as the time-skip took hold. The days and nights seemed to rush past him, an endless, relentless blur of monotony and isolation.

The images flickered through his mind in rapid succession—Dudley's sneers, Petunia's disapproving looks, the cold, cramped walls of his cupboard. He could feel himself shrinking, his strength waning as the System pulled him forward, each lost moment a painful reminder of his failure.

System Notification: Time-Skip in Progress

The words echoed hollowly in his mind as he was swept away by the System's unyielding force. He clung to the last fragments of his thoughts, desperately trying to hold onto the memories of his progress, his hard-won victories. But they were slipping away, dissolving into the void as the time-skip erased them, leaving him with nothing but the emptiness of lost potential.

I worked so hard, he thought, a last, anguished whisper in the depths of his mind. I worked so hard…

But the System was unmoved, impartial, indifferent to his suffering. And as the world faded around him, he could feel every ounce of his progress unraveling, disappearing into the shadowy depths of the time-skip's relentless passage.

As the time-skip's grip took hold, Harry felt himself sinking into a dense, unyielding current that pulled him forward through time. His surroundings blurred, becoming an indistinct wash of colors and sounds that dulled his senses. The familiar walls of Number Four, Privet Drive, seemed to fade in and out, each scene blending into the next as days and nights passed in an endless, inescapable loop.

He felt a strange, painful hollowness, as though something essential within him were being peeled away, layer by layer. Each skill, every stat he'd cultivated with painstaking effort, drained from him slowly, leaving him weaker and smaller. There was no resisting it. The System had seized control, indifferent to his struggle, pushing him relentlessly through this punishment.

System Notification: Time-Skip Sequence Active

The words echoed coldly in his mind, lacking any of the usual excitement he associated with notifications. There were no rewards awaiting him here, no comforting tally of earned experience points or new abilities. Instead, he was trapped in this endless flow, watching helplessly as everything he'd built crumbled around him.

The scenes grew sharper as they flashed before him, moments from the life he was losing rushing by, each one a reminder of the monotony and isolation that filled his days. He saw himself hunched over the kitchen sink, his hands red and raw from scrubbing dishes, as Aunt Petunia's shadow lingered nearby, always ready to find fault. There were glimpses of him dragging a rake across the garden, his fingers numb and aching, while Dudley watched from the window with a smirk, reveling in Harry's exhaustion.

The tasks came and went, each one blending into the next until time itself seemed to lose meaning. Harry could feel his body going through the motions, performing these endless chores without thought or purpose, as though he were nothing more than an automaton. His spirit was fading, his determination dulled by the relentless, unchanging routine.

He felt his stats draining, the System's silent erasure of his progress leaving him weaker and more vulnerable with every passing day. His Agility felt clumsy and slow, as if his limbs had grown heavy and unwieldy, each movement requiring more effort. He'd once taken pride in his growing speed and grace, in the small victories of avoiding Dudley's attempts to trip him or snatch food from his plate. Now, he felt sluggish, unsteady, and out of practice, as though each step were an exercise in futility.

His Intelligence, sharpened through careful study and reflection, seemed to blur, his thoughts losing clarity as his mind grew foggy. He struggled to focus, his once-clear memory clouded as important lessons slipped away from him. His memories of spells and strategies he'd learned while poring over Mrs. Figg's dusty old books faded, leaving only faint impressions in their place. He tried to cling to what little remained, but it was like grasping at smoke, the knowledge slipping through his fingers no matter how tightly he held on.

System Notification: 20% Reduction in All Stats Applied

The notification was sharp and final, like the snap of a door closing on everything he'd worked to achieve. Each stat point he'd gained, each skill he'd nurtured—now reduced to fragments, mere shadows of what they'd once been. He felt a hollow ache at the core of his being, the loss settling heavily on him as the System's penalty reshaped him into a weaker, diminished version of himself.

Images continued to flicker through his mind, showing him scenes of isolation and exhaustion. He saw himself sweeping the floors late into the evening, his arms heavy with fatigue, while the Dursleys enjoyed their dinner without sparing him a glance. He was a ghost in his own life, an invisible presence who only seemed to exist to serve them.

Each night, he retreated to his cupboard, the small, cramped space growing colder and darker with every day that passed. He lay awake, staring up at the faint slivers of light creeping through the door, feeling the weight of the days pressing down on him. His mind drifted, and he found himself counting the days, trying to hold on to some sense of time, but even that became impossible as the weeks bled into one another.

He could sense his skills dulling further, his grasp on his abilities fading until they were little more than distant memories. His Perception, once sharp enough to detect even the faintest shifts in the Dursleys' moods, grew numb, his senses dulled by the monotony of his routine. He missed the clarity it had once given him, the small advantages that had helped him navigate the household with a bit more ease. Now, he was left vulnerable, unable to predict the sudden shifts in the Dursleys' tempers.

And then there was his Willpower, the trait he had treasured most, the strength that had kept him going even when everything else felt hopeless. He could feel it slipping, his resolve crumbling as the days stretched on without change. The System's punishment had taken that from him, too, leaving him with only a hollow shell of the determination he'd once prided himself on. Every day felt like another step backward, as though he were losing pieces of himself that he'd never get back.

The isolation was unrelenting, each moment stretching into the next with no end in sight. He could feel himself fading, losing the sense of purpose that had once driven him to keep fighting. The strength he'd built had been a shield, a reminder that he could grow beyond this place, but now that shield was gone, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

System Notification: Time-Skip Sequence Continuing – Two Years Remaining

The reminder was merciless, a stark declaration that he had further yet to fall. Two more years of this existence, of endless chores, of isolation and erasure. He tried to muster some sense of resilience, a flicker of the strength that had once kept him going, but even that felt distant, buried beneath the System's crushing penalty.

He saw flashes of himself, now slightly older but no less invisible, trudging through the same tasks with an empty, mechanical obedience. The once-familiar sense of drive, the faint hope of freedom, had faded to a distant memory. Each day was a blank slate, a repetition of the same routines, each one blurring into the next until they all felt like one endless moment.

System Notification: Time-Skip Sequence Nearing End – One Month Remaining

As the System's hold on him began to loosen, he felt a faint flicker of awareness returning, like the first glimmers of light after a long night. But he was changed, weakened, stripped of everything he'd once held close. The memories of his training, of his small victories, felt distant and hollow, remnants of a past that no longer felt real.

The final days slipped by in an exhausted haze, and Harry felt himself slowly returning to the present, his mind heavy with the weight of all he'd lost. He was seven years old now, but he felt as though he'd aged far more than the System had taken. He could sense the gaps in his memory, the faded remnants of his hard-won skills, each one a reminder of the progress he'd let slip through his fingers.

System Notification: Time-Skip Sequence Ending – Age 7 Reached

The final notification felt like a distant echo, a reminder that the punishment was complete. But there was no relief, no comfort in knowing it was over. He lay in his cupboard, the familiar walls pressing in around him, and felt the emptiness settle deep within his chest. He was weaker, diminished, his hope worn down to a fragile thread.

I'll get it all back, he thought weakly, clinging to the words like a lifeline. I have to. But the promise felt hollow, his resolve cracked and uncertain.

As he lay there, staring at the ceiling in the dim light, he felt the crushing weight of failure settle over him, and the path to recovery stretched out before him like an endless, uphill climb.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy, sorry about the wait (again). GOT Crossover will be updated soon as well. All reviews are appreciated. Updated stats after regression will be shown next chapter. Also considering rewriting the first couple of chapters, I feel like they could have been done much better.

A/N 2: Sorry if the time jump seemed abrupt, but Harry needed to learn how powerful the system is and how careful he needs to be in the future. He knows pretty much how it works now (until it gets updated, at least) so future progress will be a bit easier. The Dursleys will eventually get what's coming to them.