Toji Potter

by Criezz

Toji is rebron into the Body of Harry Potter and still has his Heavenly Restriction but also has Magic, what will he do with such tools? (In this Ff, Toji has read and watched Hp when he was younger so he remembers some of it).

1. First Year

Toji Potter

Toji Fushiguro is reborn in Harry Potter's body, but he carries within himself bith his Heavenly Restriction and Magic, what will he do with it?

(This chapter covers his childhood and the First Year)

Toji Fushiguro knew what death felt like. Cold, creeping, the slow fade of consciousness. He had embraced it willingly, falling beneath the overwhelming power of Gojo Satoru. His last thoughts were of his son, Megumi, hoping that the boy would forge his own path, far from the blood and violence that had shaped Toji's life.

But death, as it seemed, was not the end.

Toji's eyes snapped open, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. His body felt small, weak even. He could feel the sun's warmth streaming through a nearby window, and the gentle breeze from outside brushed against his skin. Yet, the sensation felt alien, unfamiliar, as if his body wasn't his own.

"What the...?"

Sitting up quickly, Toji scanned his surroundings, his mind racing to make sense of what had just happened. He found himself in a cramped, dimly lit room—if you could even call it that. It looked more like a cupboard. Wooden shelves, dust-covered and filled with cleaning supplies, lined one side of the room, and a small, makeshift bed was crammed into the corner. His heart raced, confusion clouding his senses. Something wasn't right.

Toji raised his hands, staring at them. They were too small—pale, fragile, not the rough, battle-scarred hands he was used to. His body, too, was that of a child, far younger than Megumi had ever been.

He staggered toward a cracked mirror hanging on the wall. The face staring back at him wasn't his own. Instead, a messy mop of black hair sat atop his head, unruly and wild. His skin was pale, and a jagged lightning-shaped scar marred his forehead. Piercing green eyes blinked back at him, full of confusion and fear.

"What kind of joke is this?" he muttered under his breath, his voice much higher than it should have been.

Memories—no, fragments of memories—began to flood his mind. Bits and pieces, snippets of conversations, words, images. It was like someone had opened a floodgate, letting a torrent of information flow in all at once. He gripped his head, groaning as his brain struggled to piece everything together.

"Harry Potter?" he whispered, the name coming to him like a half-forgotten dream. He stared back at the reflection in disbelief. This was Harry Potter. He was Harry Potter.

Toji slumped against the wall, letting out a deep breath as the weight of the situation crashed down on him. He remembered the books—the Harry Potter series. They had existed back in his old world, though he hadn't paid much attention to them. Fiction, fantasy, nonsense meant for kids. But now, he was here, inside the body of this famous boy wizard.

"What kind of sick reincarnation is this?"

His instincts told him to panic, to find some way out of this twisted situation, but the part of him that had lived through battles, blood, and death remained calm. He had survived worse things than being trapped in a child's body. He could survive this too.

He took a deep breath, focusing. His mind snapped back into that old, familiar state of clarity. First, he needed to assess the situation. He was seven years old, living in what he vaguely recalled to be the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursleys' house. He knew how his life was supposed to unfold from here—years of torment and mistreatment at the hands of his so-called relatives, before eventually finding his way to Hogwarts.

But none of that mattered right now. Toji wasn't going to follow the same path as the Harry Potter in those books. No. This was his life now, and he wasn't going to let it slip away like his last one had.

He felt something stir within him, something familiar yet distant. It wasn't cursed energy, but he still felt power pulsing beneath his skin. His heavenly restriction—it was still intact. His physical prowess, his senses, the incredible strength that had once made him feared as the "Sorcerer Killer"—all of it remained, but tempered by the smaller, weaker body of a child. And yet, even though cursed energy was absent, there was something else, something new.

Magic.

He could feel it, dormant but present, like a second heartbeat. Magic was real in this world. And he had it.

A smirk crept onto Toji's face as realization dawned on him. His heavenly restriction had given him unimaginable physical power in his previous life, but now, in this world, he had something else to play with—magic. It was a new weapon, one he had never wielded before, and the thought of it excited him in a way he hadn't felt in years.

Living by his instincts and fighting for survival had been his entire existence before. But now, in this world of wizards and magic, he had the chance to live differently. He had the power to carve out his own path. He could live for himself.

Toji pushed himself off the floor and walked to the door of the cupboard. He placed his small hand on the handle, testing its resistance. Locked, of course. But a locked door wasn't going to stop him.

He braced himself, took a deep breath, and pushed. The door rattled but didn't budge. He grinned. If his strength had been fully unleashed, he could have torn this door off its hinges without a second thought. But he had to be careful. He was still a child—he had to play this smart.

A flicker of memory resurfaced—something about wizards being able to perform accidental magic when they were emotional. He focused, drawing on that new sensation of magic that lay within him. He reached for it, willing it to bend to his command.

The door lock clicked softly, and the door creaked open.

Toji's grin widened. It had worked. This magic… it was going to be fun to learn.

He stepped out into the hallway, moving silently as his sharp eyes scanned his surroundings. The house was quiet. The Dursleys were likely still asleep, unaware of what had just been set in motion.

Toji took one last glance at the cupboard, the place where Harry Potter had suffered in silence for so many years. But he wasn't Harry Potter, not anymore. He was Toji Fushiguro—a man who had defied death and now, with both heavenly restriction and magic at his fingertips, he was going to live this second chance to the fullest.

As he turned and walked down the hallway, his heart pounded with a sense of freedom he hadn't felt in a long time. This world didn't know what was coming. He was going to master this magic, learn the ways of this world, and make it his own.

Because this time, Toji wasn't living for anyone else.

This time, he was going to live for himself.

Toji Fushiguro, now Harry Potter, sat cross-legged on the cold floor of the cupboard under the stairs, his green eyes staring ahead, deep in thought. The Dursleys had left him alone for the most part today, which was unusual. Normally, they found some excuse to berate or shove him around. Maybe they sensed the subtle change in him, the quiet danger that simmered beneath his now-innocent exterior.

But the peace wouldn't last. Soon, the aunt and uncle would call him to do some mindless chore, and Harry—no, Toji—would comply, if only to avoid suspicion for now.

It had been a day like any other in this miserable house, filled with mundane chores and mindless cruelty. Toji had watched, observed, and learned. He saw the way the Dursleys treated Harry like dirt under their shoes, how Dudley sneered and whined, how Petunia would wrinkle her nose at him like he was a disease she was forced to tolerate. It reminded Toji of the Zen'in clan in his past life—arrogant, self-righteous people who looked down on anything they didn't understand.

Harry Potter had lived like this, day after day, for years. A life without power, without control. Toji could see it, clear as day now—this boy, raised like a caged animal, had been molded into something weak. Yet, there was a strength in him, too. A resilience, perhaps. But it wasn't enough.

As the hours passed, and Toji did his daily chores without complaint, he realized something that made him frown in disdain. Harry could have become like me. The kid had every reason to grow ruthless, to embrace strength and survival over weakness and submission. But the boy never had the one thing that had shaped Toji's own life.

The threat of death.

In his old life, Toji had been forced to confront death, face it, battle it, and live in its shadow. It was that constant threat, that relentless hunger to survive, that had forged him into the Sorcerer Killer. Without that drive, Harry had grown up meek. Too soft. He didn't seek strength for its own sake. He endured, sure, but that wasn't the same.

Toji, now in Harry's body, had no such illusions. His new life was precious because he had felt death's cold grip once already. And now, with this second chance, he wasn't going to squander it.

His previous life had been a desperate, blood-soaked struggle to prove his worth. Now? He had time. Four years until Hogwarts. Four years to grow stronger, to master magic, to learn about this world and its secrets. He had no cursed energy to draw on, but magic was just another tool. If he mastered it, along with his physical abilities from his heavenly restriction, he could surpass anyone.

But first, he needed to get out of this dump.

That night, as the Dursleys slept soundly in their rooms, Toji moved with silent precision. His heightened senses and natural agility from his previous life made the task easy. He had already planned this during the day. His footsteps were light as a breeze as he slipped into the living room, where he knew Vernon Dursley kept a stash of cash. It was pathetic—small amounts compared to what he'd seen in his old world—but it would suffice.

He pocketed the money, took a backpack from Dudley's room, and filled it with clothes, snacks, and water bottles from the kitchen. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he glanced back toward the sleeping Dursleys. Pathetic. They had no idea he was leaving, no clue they would never see him again.

As he crept toward the front door, Toji paused for a moment. He could have made this ugly. He could have taken revenge, easily. But what would be the point? The Dursleys were nothing to him. They weren't worth his effort. Let them wake up to their empty house in the morning and wonder what happened to their precious "freak" nephew.

He slipped out into the cool night air, the stars twinkling overhead like distant spectators to his newfound freedom. He took a deep breath, relishing the feeling of being out from under the Dursleys' control. This was his world now, and he was going to make it bend to his will.

He began walking, his mind racing with plans. The Leaky Cauldron. He remembered that much from the books. A hidden bar, a gateway to the wizarding world. If he could get there, he could access Diagon Alley, the magical market. He could get a wand, books, anything he needed to start learning magic.

The walk through the dark streets of Little Whinging was quiet, the only sound being the occasional rustle of leaves or a distant car. Toji had no trouble navigating; he had always been good at orienting himself, and even though he had never been here before, the street signs were easy enough to follow.

After a couple of hours, Toji found himself standing in front of a run-down pub on a busy street. The Leaky Cauldron. It looked shabby, like something ordinary people would ignore. And they did. He watched as a few Muggles passed by without even glancing at the bar.

He walked up to the door, pushing it open and stepping inside. The air smelled of old wood and ale, the dim lighting casting shadows over the small group of patrons scattered around the room. No one paid him any mind.

Toji made his way to the bar, where a bald, wrinkled man stood, wiping glasses with a rag. Tom, the barkeep. He remembered him from the books, too.

"I'm Harry Potter," Toji said quietly, making sure only Tom could hear. The man's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but then he nodded, understanding.

"Keep it secret," Toji continued, his voice calm but carrying an edge of authority. "I want to surprise the wizarding world later. For now, I need a room and some help getting into Diagon Alley."

Tom nodded again, quickly and efficiently, as if he had been waiting for this moment all his life. "Of course, Mr. Potter. Your secret's safe with me."

Toji felt a satisfied smile spread across his face. Everything was falling into place.

Tom led him through the back door and out into a small courtyard. With a few taps of his wand, the brick wall shifted and folded in on itself, revealing the entrance to Diagon Alley. Toji's sharp eyes took in the sight of the bustling market street, filled with shops selling every magical item he could imagine. Wands, potions, spell books—all of it was here, waiting for him.

And so, he stepped forward, his mind already working through his next steps. He had key information, even if his knowledge of the books wasn't complete. He remembered enough. He knew how things worked here, knew the players, the dangers, and the opportunities.

This world didn't know it yet, but Toji Fushiguro, the Sorcerer Killer, was about to rewrite its rules.

Harry Potter might have been shaped by neglect and mistreatment, but without the ever-present threat of death, he hadn't become ruthless like Toji had. Now, with his new identity, Toji would build the strength he'd never had time to achieve in his old life.

Four years until Hogwarts.

Four years to become unstoppable.

Toji smirked as he walked through Diagon Alley. This time, he was playing the long game.

And he had all the time in the world.

Toji, now in the wizarding world, strode through the wide marble halls of Gringotts, his sharp green eyes surveying the towering pillars and the busy goblins bustling about their work. The wizarding bank had an air of secrecy and power—one Toji respected. These creatures weren't like the foolish wizards he expected to encounter. Goblins were cunning, ruthless, and obsessed with gold. He could work with that.

The goblin leading him, Griphook, glanced back at him every few steps, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. Toji had made an unusual request—a blood test to confirm his heritage. It wasn't common for wizards to ask for such services at Gringotts, but Toji knew that information was power. And right now, he needed to know exactly what kind of power this new body carried.

They stopped at a heavy iron door at the end of the hall. Griphook opened it with a simple wave of his hand, and the door creaked as it revealed a dimly lit, private chamber.

"Inside," Griphook said, gesturing with a sharp-toothed grin. "We will perform the ritual."

Toji stepped in, his senses keenly aware of everything around him—the cool air, the faint scent of iron from the dagger laid on the stone table. Griphook followed him inside, pulling the door shut behind them, sealing off the rest of the world. Toji appreciated the privacy.

"This blood test," Griphook began, walking toward the table, "will confirm your lineage. It will also reveal any magical bonds or ties to your ancestry. Are you prepared, Mr. Potter?"

Toji glanced at the goblin, then at the ceremonial dagger. The blade gleamed under the flickering torchlight, razor-sharp but not imposing. He stepped forward, grabbing the dagger without hesitation. "Let's get this over with."

Griphook's grin widened, showing his sharp teeth. He liked this boy's attitude. No hesitation. No fear.

Toji drew the dagger across his palm, the blade biting into his flesh. Blood welled up from the cut, but he felt no pain. Instead, the moment his blood touched the stone bowl beneath his hand, a warm glow surrounded him. The magic of the ritual surged through his body, and just as quickly as the wound had opened, it healed, leaving no trace behind.

The goblin watched closely, his sharp eyes glowing with a hint of respect as he began reading the ancient scrolls, which glowed as the blood reacted with the magic. A moment later, runes shimmered to life, revealing the results.

"Interesting," Griphook murmured. "Very interesting."

Toji raised an eyebrow. "What do they say?"

Griphook's clawed finger traced the glowing lines of the scroll. "You are, of course, Harry Potter, the last living descendant of the Potter line. However, you also carry the blood of the Black family, through your godfather, Sirius Black. This gives you the right to claim the Black fortune as well."

Toji nodded. That part he had anticipated from the books.

"But there is more," Griphook continued, his voice lowering as he looked up, eyes narrowing. "There is a connection to Slytherin himself… through dark magic. A horcrux."

Toji's expression didn't change, though internally, he pieced together what Griphook was saying. The scar on his forehead—it wasn't just a mark of Voldemort's failed curse. It was a tether to the Dark Lord himself. A piece of his soul.

"Interesting," Toji muttered, thinking quickly. If he carried a piece of Voldemort inside him, that was a problem. But it was also an opportunity. He could use this knowledge to his advantage, but first, he had to get rid of the scar. He had no desire to be anyone's pawn and Voldemort was no exception.

"Before we continue," Toji said, his tone even, "I want a medical checkup. I know the damage this body's gone through. The Dursleys haven't exactly treated me well."

Griphook's sharp eyes flicked up to meet Toji's. "We goblins do not hide anything from those who pay the right price. We respect gold and strength." His grin returned, wider now. "You show respect for our ways. For that, we will see to your health properly."

Toji smirked. He liked these goblins more than any wizard so far.

Griphook clapped his hands, and another goblin entered the room carrying a box of potions and tools. They moved quickly, checking Toji's body for any signs of malnourishment, injury, or lingering curses. The results were clear—the boy had been underfed, mistreated, and was still carrying some traces of Voldemort's influence through the scar.

"You'll need potions to restore your body's nutrients," the healer goblin said, handing him a few vials. "These will fix the damage done by years of neglect. But the scar… that requires something more."

Griphook stepped forward, holding a small vial of dark liquid. "This will sever the connection to the dark magic in your scar and free you from Voldemort's influence. The removal will be painful, but once it's done, you'll be rid of him."

Toji took the vial without hesitation. Pain meant nothing to him. He downed it in one gulp.

The effect was immediate. His scar burned, the searing pain radiating through his head. For a brief moment, he saw flashes of memories that didn't belong to him—dark places, a cold, hissing voice, and the shadow of a figure wearing a hood. Voldemort.

But then, just as quickly as it had begun, the pain vanished. His head felt clearer, lighter. The scar still remained physically, but its magical connection to Voldemort was gone.

Griphook handed him a small, intricately crafted dagger like a more expensive looking version of his inverted spear of heaven, its hilt embedded with gemstones. "For your strength and your respect, I gift you this blade. May it serve you well."

Toji admired the craftsmanship. It was a goblin-forged weapon, sharp and deadly. Perfect for him. He nodded, accepting the gift. "I'll put it to good use."

Finally, Griphook placed a small, polished stone in Toji's hand. "This is a Portkey. It will take you to any of the estates you are now the master of. The Potters, the Blacks… even Slytherin's hidden vaults, should you find them."

Toji's mind raced. This was power. Pure, untapped potential, lying at his feet. And he wasn't about to let anyone else control it.

Before leaving, he made one final request. "I want access to my vaults. But more importantly, I want to know why Dumbledore has my family's belongings. And if he's been using my money."

Griphook's fanged smile returned. "Ah, yes. Dumbledore. We have records indicating he accessed your vaults under the pretense of guardianship. What he's done with the funds remains unclear… but we can investigate."

Toji smirked. The old man had been meddling too much. He'd deal with Dumbledore in time, but for now, there were more pressing matters to attend to. Like consolidating his newfound power.

The Portkey took Toji directly to the Potter Manor, a grand, sprawling estate surrounded by high, enchanted walls and lush gardens. The air here was fresh, crisp, and untouched by the filth of the outside world.

As he stepped inside the grand hall, five small figures appeared before him. House-elves. Their large eyes stared up at him with awe, as though they were in the presence of something divine.

"Master Potter has returned!" one of them squeaked, tears of joy filling her eyes. "Oh, Master has come home!"

Toji blinked, surprised by their reverence. It wasn't worship he was used to, but practicality? Oh, this was very practical.

The elves bowed low, trembling in excitement. One of them, slightly older than the rest, stepped forward. "We are the elves of the Potter family, Master. We are here to serve you in any way you desire."

Toji's smirk returned. House-elves? They could do all kinds of tasks, protect his estate, and fetch information if needed. Extremely useful.

He crossed his arms, surveying the elves. "Good. You'll serve me well. There's a lot of work to do."

The elves looked up at him as though he were their savior, and Toji couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. This new life had given him more than just power. It had given him tools—money, magic, and now servants.

This world was his now.

And nothing was going to stop him from taking full advantage of it.

The Potter Manor was silent, the early morning light filtering through its vast windows as Toji sat in the library, the soft hum of magic lingering in the air. The room was massive, shelves filled with ancient tomes from every era, the family's magical history tucked away in these pages. Over the past four years, this place had become his sanctuary. Here, Toji had transformed—physically, mentally, and magically.

His once-small, malnourished body had grown taller, leaner, but powerfully built. His muscles were dense, his movements precise and controlled, like a predator waiting to strike. His posture radiated confidence, but not in the arrogant, childish way wizards often carried themselves. No, his confidence was grounded in experience—he moved with the grace and ease of a trained killer. His eyes, the green orbs that had once seemed timid, now carried a dangerous sharpness.

The library had given him far more than knowledge. It had given him power.

For the past four years, Toji had dedicated himself to mastering everything this world had to offer. He'd read through every book he could find in the Potter Manor—works on magic, combat, history, and even noble etiquette. Magic, after all, was just a tool, a weapon, and he had learned how to wield it better than anyone.

From the Potter, Black, and Slytherin libraries, he'd uncovered spells both common and arcane, learning from all schools of magic. The arrogance of wizards was that they divided spells based on house affiliation—Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin. Toji didn't care about such divisions. He wanted to master them all.

And he had.

He'd started with basic spells, those that most students would spend years learning at Hogwarts. But Toji wasn't bound by their limitations. He trained relentlessly, pushing himself to cast without a wand, without speaking aloud. His magic responded to his will alone, allowing him to cast silently and with deadly precision.

Non-verbal casting had been his first major breakthrough, something even advanced wizards struggled with. But Toji was no mere wizard. He'd approached magic the way he had approached training in his previous life—with ruthless efficiency. He trained his body alongside his magic, using rituals he'd found buried in old Potter tomes to enhance his physicality and magical prowess. Each ritual had been a grueling test of endurance, but with every one completed, he felt his body grow stronger, more resilient. His magic became sharper, more refined, coursing through his veins like a living force.

Then came combat. Toji's training had never stopped with just magic. He'd learned every form of armed and unarmed combat he could get his hands on, magical or otherwise. He'd studied dueling spells from wizards long dead, practiced with magical creatures, and even used his house-elves as sparring partners when necessary. His time spent learning non-magical combat forms—martial arts, swordsmanship, dagger fighting—combined with his natural talent for fighting gave him a deadly edge.

He wasn't just a wizard. He was a weapon.

And his mind had grown just as sharp. The portraits of his ancestors had taught him about noble conduct, strategy, and etiquette. He had become a master of how to navigate the political world of wizards, to command respect without saying a word. His mental discipline was unmatched, sharpened by constant study and rituals to expand his mind.

Latin had become second nature to him. If he was ever forced to speak his spells aloud, they would be perfect. His voice, precise and controlled, would never butcher the magic. Every spell would strike with lethal accuracy.

Toji had spent these four years investing in both the muggle and magical world as well. Through the vast wealth of the Potter and Black fortunes, he had carefully placed money into rising companies, securing influence and resources. He had made sure that, by the time he entered the wizarding world publicly, he would have power beyond just his magic.

He had crafted an empire in secret.

Now, the time had come. The familiar rustle of an owl's wings broke the silence, and a single letter, yellowed with age, dropped onto the desk in front of him. The Hogwarts letter.

Toji picked it up, his eyes narrowing as he broke the seal. Inside was the standard message, welcoming Harry Potter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His lips curled into a small, satisfied smile.

Finally.

The world had forgotten about Harry Potter—the Boy Who Lived, the orphan, the victim. But when he returned to the wizarding world, they would learn the truth. They had no idea who he truly was now. They had no idea what he had become.

He placed the letter down and stood, his movements smooth and deliberate. His body had changed so much over the years. He was now over 4.8 Feet (ca. 145cm) tall, his muscles lean but packed with strength, his reflexes lightning fast. The rituals he had performed had made him nearly invulnerable to most magical attacks, and his magical core was vast—far beyond what any child of his age should have been capable of.

He had used these four years to master every subject taught at Hogwarts and more. Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts and more. He had perfected them all, studying from the best books, the rarest scrolls.

And no one knew.

The world expected a scared, inexperienced boy to enter Hogwarts. Instead, they would get Toji Fushiguro, a sorcerer killer reborn into the body of a wizard. He had kept his secrets well. No one had seen his progress. Not even Dumbledore.

Toji walked to the mirror hanging on the wall of his bedroom, looking at himself. His emerald green eyes stared back, cold and calculating. His black hair, once unruly, now framed his face in a sharp, almost regal way. He was a far cry from the weak boy who had once lived under the Dursleys' stairs.

He turned away, pulling a cloak around his shoulders. The time for hiding was over. The magical world was about to face something it had never seen before.

The boy they called Harry Potter was gone.

And in his place stood Toji Fushiguro, reborn, stronger than ever, ready to carve his own path in this new world.

He stepped out of the room, heading down to the front hall where his house-elves were waiting. They, too, had sensed the change in him. They treated him like a king—loyal, devoted, and ready to serve without question.

"Prepare my things," Toji ordered. "We leave for Diagon Alley shortly."

The elves bowed deeply, disappearing with a pop to prepare for his journey. Toji smirked, the satisfaction of years of preparation filling him. He had waited for this moment. Four years of planning, training, and mastering every skill available to him.

He would enter Hogwarts not as a boy, but as a force.

The letter had arrived, and the wizarding world was about to meet the true Harry Potter. And they wouldn't know what hit them.

The bustling streets of Diagon Alley were alive with the chatter of witches and wizards preparing for the new school year. Toji moved through the crowd with a purpose. He had spent the last four years meticulously preparing for this moment, and now, with the Hogwarts letter in hand, it was time to gather the essentials.

His first stop was Flourish and Blotts. The bookshop was crammed with Hogwarts students and their parents, each gathering the books for their year. Toji slipped in effortlessly, his posture exuding confidence as he made his way through the shelves. His sharp eyes scanned the spines, instantly recognizing the titles from his reading over the years. There was nothing here he didn't already know, but appearances had to be kept.

As he reached for one of the required textbooks, he felt someone bump into him. A girl around his age, with frizzy brown hair and wide, curious eyes, looked up, her face flushed with embarrassment.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she stammered, adjusting the stack of books in her arms.

Toji looked her over—Hermione Granger. He remembered her from the books. A little too eager to please and overly studious, but her mind was sharp. He had a small crush on her back when he'd first read about her in his previous life. Now, face to face with her, he couldn't help but be intrigued.

"No harm done," he said smoothly, offering a charming smile. His voice was calm, deep, and it caught her off guard. "You seem to have quite the load there. Need help?"

Hermione blinked, her cheeks reddening slightly at his tone. "Uh… y-yes, thank you."

Toji took a couple of books from her arms, his movements fluid and graceful. "You're preparing for your first year at Hogwarts, I assume?"

"Yes! I've been reading all about it," Hermione replied, eyes lighting up with excitement. "I've read so much about magic, and I can't wait to start practicing."

Toji chuckled softly, his charm effortless. "That's good. You'll need a head start if you want to keep up with everything. Hogwarts can be a bit overwhelming."

Hermione's eyes widened at his words. "You've been there before?"

"No," Toji replied, his smile mysterious. "But I've studied enough to know what to expect."

Hermione's parents, who had been standing nearby, approached just then, intrigued by the conversation. Toji greeted them with the same composed confidence. "Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Your daughter is very bright—she'll do well at Hogwarts."

The Grangers seemed taken aback by his polite demeanor, clearly impressed by the young boy. Toji chatted with them for a few minutes, dropping subtle hints of his knowledge about the magical world and his respect for their non-magical background. He left a lasting impression, and by the time Hermione was ready to leave, she couldn't stop glancing back at him with a mixture of admiration and curiosity.

As they parted ways, Hermione realized she had forgotten to ask his name, her heart pounding slightly at the thought. But by the time she mentioned it to her mother, Harry had already disappeared into the crowd.

Toji continued his journey through Diagon Alley, stopping by Madam Malkin's to get his robes, where he met Daphne Greengrass. Blonde, with sharp, intelligent eyes, she carried herself with the quiet grace of a pure-blood witch. Toji noticed her almost immediately, and as their eyes met, he knew she was watching him too.

"I take it you're preparing for Hogwarts?" Toji asked, his tone casual as they both waited for their measurements.

Daphne glanced at him, her expression cool. "Yes. And you?"

He smirked. "The same. First year. Though, from the way you carry yourself, I'd say you're more prepared than most."

Daphne raised an eyebrow, slightly intrigued by his comment. "You seem confident yourself."

"To survive, confidence is key," he replied smoothly, leaning slightly against the counter, his tone laced with an air of mystery that caught her attention.

They exchanged a few more words, with Toji offering small insights into the magical world and its intricacies. Daphne found herself drawn to his calm, assured demeanor—so unlike the boys her age. He spoke with an authority and maturity that belied his years. By the time they left Madam Malkin's, Daphne couldn't help but glance back, wondering who this mysterious boy really was.

Like Hermione, she hadn't asked his name.

Toji made his way to Knockturn Alley next. Diagon Alley's darker counterpart, it was filled with shady characters and forbidden artifacts, but none of that bothered him. He moved through the alley with the same confidence, his senses sharp, until he reached the small, hidden shop he had been searching for.

Inside, an old witch greeted him with a crooked smile. "Looking for something special, young wizard?"

"To make a wand," Toji said, his voice low and steady. "I'll choose the materials myself."

The witch's eyes gleamed. "Ah, not many come here for that. But very well. Follow me."

She led him into a dark room filled with strange objects—feathers, scales, bones, and more. Toji knew exactly what he was looking for. He approached the ingredients, reaching out with his magic to feel for a connection. His choices were deliberate and dangerous:

A Thunder Phoenix feather, rare and volatile, crackling with latent lightning magic.A Thestral hair, invisible to most but bound to the magic of wood, ancient and powerful, capable of channeling immense magic.

The ritual to bind these materials into a wand was intense, forcing Toji to channel his magic into each ingredient. As he did, he felt a surge of power flow through him, the wand responding to his will. It wasn't legal, nor was it easy, but by the time the ritual was complete, he held in his hands a weapon unlike any other.

The wand hummed with power, and Toji smirked. Perfect.

Later, he made his way to Ollivander's Wand Shop. The elderly wandmaker eyed him curiously as Toji entered, the strange magical aura surrounding him unmistakable.

"I sense… great power within you, Mr. Potter," Ollivander said softly as Toji tried several wands, none of them to his liking. "Perhaps you need something… special."

Toji narrowed his eyes. "A staff."

Ollivander's eyes widened. "A staff, you say? Very few wizards ever request such a thing. It requires immense control and power to wield."

Toji's gaze was cold and unwavering. "I can handle it."

After a moment of silence, Ollivander nodded. "Very well. I shall craft it. But it will take time, and I will use only the finest materials. I have something… extraordinary in mind. Divine wood, taken from the Garden of Eden itself."

Toji's interest piqued.

"And for the cores," Ollivander continued, "something as powerful as you will require ten cores: Dragon heartstring, Phoenix feather, Unicorn hair, a Griffon's feather, Mermaid scale, Basilisk fang soaked in poison, Kelpie hair, Nymph essence, Druid's essence, and the heart of a Fairy."

Toji's smile was faint but dangerous. "Perfect."

The wandmaker promised the staff would be ready in a week, and Toji left, satisfied.

His final stop was Gringotts. After taking some more money from his vaults, he met with Griphook once again.

"I need information on Dumbledore," Toji said as they sat in a private room.

Griphook's sharp eyes gleamed. "It seems he has been… meddling with your affairs. Taking items from your vault under the guise of guardianship."

Toji's expression darkened. "I'll deal with him in time. Now, about the Lordship rings."

Griphook nodded, producing several ornate rings. Toji slid them onto his fingers, feeling a surge of power as they bonded with him. They turned invisible, as he willed them, hiding the truth from prying eyes.

Arriving home, he stumbled upon a ritual—one that would allow him to connect with the magic of nature itself, enhancing his ability to manipulate the world around him. It was risky, but the potential power was worth it.

He had already come so far. The staff and the wand would only be tools—extensions of his will. But he would go beyond that. Toji had always been about surpassing limits.

With everything in place, he returned to Potter Manor, the ritual fresh in his mind. Soon, Hogwarts would see a Harry Potter they could never have imagined.

And the world would never be the same again.

The air was thick with anticipation as Toji—now fully settled into his life as Harry Potter—stood before King's Cross Station, holding his ticket to Platform 9 . Dressed in simple, yet well-fitted attire, he stood out from the crowd of hurried muggles. His mind, however, was not on the station's mundanity but on the projectsthat had consumed his thoughts.

He had spent months planning. The staff that Ollivander was crafting for him would be a powerful tool, and his new wand was unlike any other. But beyond the tools, he had ideas—projects to refine his connection with magic, with nature, and to push the limits of both his magical and physical abilities. He had already performed several rituals to enhance his body and magic, but there was still so much to do. He aimed to explore ancient and forbidden branches of magic and planned to find ways to fuse magic with his own combat expertise, something the magical world had yet to see.

But that was for the future. Now, it was time for the next phase of his journey.

He pushed his cart toward Platforms 9 and 10, scanning the area. His sharp eyes quickly caught sight of the gateway between the two platforms—a barrier that led to the magical world. With a quick look to make sure no one was watching too closely, he strode toward the brick wall and, without hesitation, disappeared through it.

On the other side, Platform 9 stretched before him in all its magical glory. Steam billowed from the scarlet Hogwarts Express, and witches and wizards in robes hurried about, seeing their children off. The atmosphere was electric with excitement, but Toji remained calm and composed, his keen senses taking everything in.

As he moved toward the train, his eyes swept the windows. He was looking for a certain girl: Hermione Granger. He hadn't forgotten the impression he left on her in Diagon Alley, and he fully intended to deepen it.

A flash of bushy brown hair caught his attention. There she was, waving from one of the windows, a bright smile on her face. She had spotted him first. Toji grinned to himself; even after just one meeting, he could tell she had taken a liking to him.

He wasted no time and boarded the train swiftly, making his way toward her compartment. When he reached her, he greeted her with the kind of charm that always left a mark. He took her hand gently, his touch light but firm, and pressed his lips to her knuckle, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Miss Granger," he said in a smooth, rich voice. "A pleasure to see you again."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she turned a shade of pink as he released her hand. "H-Harry!" she stammered, her heart racing at the unexpected gesture. "It's... lovely to see you too."

Toji settled into the seat across from her, giving her a warm smile. "I hope the summer has treated you well," he said, his tone casual but thoughtful. "Are you ready for Hogwarts?"

Hermione nodded, still flustered. "Yes! I've read all the books, and I can't wait to start learning magic. I'm a bit nervous though... it's all so new."

Toji nodded. "You'll do great. Just remember, it's not about how much you know, but how you apply it." He gave her a reassuring smile, and Hermione, for once, found herself at a loss for words.

A few moments later, the compartment door slid open, and Daphne Greengrass stepped in. She froze for a moment, her eyes flicking between Toji and Hermione before she gave a small smile. "Looks like I'm not the only one who thought this compartment would be quiet."

Toji smirked, giving her a nod of acknowledgment. "Daphne," he greeted, his voice smooth. "Glad to see you."

Daphne gracefully took a seat beside Hermione, her demeanor cool but polite. "It seems we're all heading to Hogwarts together."

The trio quickly settled into conversation, and the girls were fascinated by Toji's story of his childhood—how he grew up with the Dursleys and endured their cruelty. Both Hermione and Daphne listened intently, and Toji could sense their growing anger at the way he had been treated.

"I never knew Dumbledore left you there," Hermione said quietly, a hint of outrage in her voice.

Toji leaned back in his seat, shrugging. "It is what it is. But I'm not the type to stay down for long."

Daphne frowned, her voice cold. "He should've taken better care of you. He's supposed to be a protector, not an enabler of suffering."

Toji smiled inwardly, pleased by their reactions. Both girls now shared a deep distrust of Dumbledore, something he could use in the future. But for now, he kept the conversation light, turning it back to more pleasant topics. As they spoke, he subtly worked to soften Hermione's bossy tendencies, encouraging her to listen before offering her opinion. It was a slow process, but progress was progress.

It wasn't long before their conversation was interrupted by the door sliding open again. Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway, flanked by his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. His pale, pointed face twisted into a sneer as he looked at them.

"So, this is where Potter's been hiding," Malfoy drawled. "Slumming it with a couple of Mudbloods, I see."

Toji's eyes darkened instantly. Without a word, he raised his hand, his magic flaring. Before Malfoy could react, he and his goons were teleported out of the compartment with a loud pop, vanishing from sight.

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "That was... efficient."

Toji smirked, leaning back in his seat. "I don't have time for idiots like him."

With a flick of his wrist, he erected a subtle barrier around the compartment, ensuring that no one else would disturb them for the rest of the journey. Hermione looked impressed, but there was also a spark of admiration in her eyes.

Soon after, the sweets trolley rolled by, and Toji bought an assortment of treats for all three of them. Hermione and Daphne thanked him, the atmosphere lightening as they laughed and talked, enjoying the sweets. Toji kept things balanced, charming both girls without giving away too much of himself. They were fascinated by him—his confidence, his mystery, and the fact that he didn't bow to anyone, not even the famous Draco Malfoy.

As the Hogwarts Express neared its destination, they all changed into their uniforms. Toji's was slightly different from the standard school robes. He had modified it himself, drawing inspiration from his old life's tokyo jujutsu uniform. It had the look of a combat-ready outfit—sleek and form-fitting, with black fabric accented by golden rims. It gave him an air of both nobility and danger, a combination that suited him perfectly.

Hermione and Daphne both stared at him as he stepped out of the compartment, their eyes lingering on his unique attire.

"That's… not standard Hogwarts robes," Daphne noted, her voice tinged with amusement.

Toji shrugged, giving her a half-smile. "I like to be prepared."

When the train finally pulled into Hogsmeade Station, Toji stood and, ever the gentleman, offered his hand to help Hermione and Daphne out of the train. Both girls accepted, blushing slightly as they took his hand.

The cool evening air greeted them as they stepped onto the platform, the towering silhouette of Hogwarts Castle looming in the distance. Toji felt a surge of excitement as he looked at the ancient fortress. This was where the next phase of his plan would begin. He was stronger, smarter, and more prepared than any first-year student.

He had four years of power and experience behind him, and now, with both Hermione and Daphne by his side, he was ready to make his mark on the magical world. The future was his to shape.

And Hogwarts had no idea what was coming.

The night air was crisp as Toji stood on the shore of the black lake, staring at the small fleet of boats that were about to carry him and the rest of the first-years to Hogwarts. His sharp eyes scanned the towering figure waiting by the boats—Rubeus Hagrid, the half-giant. Despite being dimwitted, Hagrid was undeniably kind-hearted, though that didn't matter much to Toji.

He and the girls—Hermione and Daphne—made their way toward Hagrid, who was enthusiastically waving them over. "C'mon, firs'years! In the boats! Four to a boat, no more, no less!" Hagrid's booming voice echoed across the lake.

As they approached, Hagrid's eyes fell on Toji, and a wide grin spread across his face. "Well, if it ain't young Harry Potter! Good to see ya, lad! Look at ya—taller than I imagined! Come 'ere!" Without warning, Hagrid swooped in and gave Toji a hearty clap on the back that would have knocked most first-years off their feet.

Toji, however, barely budged. Years of training—both magical and physical—made it easy for him to handle Hagrid's casual strength. He smirked inwardly, knowing Hagrid hadn't noticed.

"Good to see you too, Hagrid," Toji replied, keeping his tone light and friendly.

Hagrid chuckled, clearly oblivious to how easily Toji had withstood his blow. "Get on in, then! Don't be shy!" He waved them toward one of the boats.

As Toji led Hermione and Daphne toward the nearest boat, they were joined by none other than Ron Weasley, who plopped down beside them with an awkward grin.

"Mind if I sit here?" Ron asked, already making himself comfortable without waiting for a response.

Toji shot him a quick glance but didn't bother responding. Hermione and Daphne, however, exchanged a brief look of irritation. Hermione, ever polite, simply offered Ron a stiff smile, while Daphne remained silent, already disinterested in him.

Ron, sensing the chill in the air, quickly went quiet, though he muttered something under his breath that neither of the girls bothered to acknowledge.

The boat began to glide across the lake, the soft sound of water lapping against its sides filling the silence. Toji leaned back slightly, his sharp gaze flicking between the Hogwarts castle in the distance and the shimmering water around them. As the moonlight reflected off the surface of the lake, the silhouettes of magical creatures began to emerge—graceful serpentine shapes, long fins cutting through the water.

Without thinking, Toji reached into his bag, pulling out some of the snacks he had packed. With an almost casual flick of his wrist, he tossed bits of food toward the creatures. He was careful to pick the right kind of snacks, knowing from his reading that certain magical beasts were notoriously picky about their diet.

The water rippled as the creatures snapped up the treats, and for a moment, they swam even closer, clearly intrigued by the offerings. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.

"How did you know what to feed them?" she asked, impressed.

"Just something I picked up from a book," Toji replied with a small shrug, playing it off as nothing. Daphne raised an eyebrow, sensing that there was more to his knowledge than he let on.

In the boat beside them, Hagrid watched the interaction and the creatures with wide-eyed approval. "Well, I'll be! Not many kids know what them beasts like! Good job, Harry!" Hagrid called out, clearly impressed by Toji's knowledge of magical creatures.

As they neared the castle, the view of Hogwarts under the moonlight was breathtaking. The towering spires and majestic turrets seemed to touch the stars, and the castle itself radiated an ancient, magical energy. Even Toji, who rarely let things impress him, felt a twinge of admiration for the grandeur of the place.

Once the boats docked, the first-years were guided off, and Toji helped Hermione and Daphne out with a gentlemanly hand, much to their quiet delight. They joined the rest of the students as they were ushered inside by Hagrid, who gave them one last wave before they entered the massive doors of the castle.

Inside, the first-years were greeted by Professor McGonagall. Her eyes swept over the group, pausing briefly when they landed on Toji. There was something in her gaze—an almost imperceptible flicker of awe, though she quickly composed herself.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," McGonagall began, her voice firm but kind. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses."

There was a murmur of excitement and nervousness from the students, especially as the rumor of the sorting process spread. Some panicked, thinking they'd have to duel, others whispered about impossible tests. Toji, however, remained calm, his sharp eyes watching the scene unfold with detached interest.

Just then, the ghosts of Hogwarts made their entrance, floating through the walls and giving the students a bit of a scare. There were shrieks and gasps as the Fat Friar, the Bloody Baron, and the rest of the spectral residents made their rounds, but Toji barely flinched.

McGonagall led the group into the Great Hall, and Toji was momentarily struck by the sheergrandeur of it—the floating candles, the enchanted ceiling reflecting the night sky, and the long tables packed with students from the four houses. Whispers broke out as the first-years walked in, and Toji felt the eyes of nearly every student on him, especially from the Gryffindor table.

Once they were all gathered, McGonagall placed an old, worn Sorting Hat on a chair in front of them. The hat came to life, singing its familiar song, but Toji wasn't interested in its theatrics. He was focused on the plan.

Daphne was sorted first. The hat barely touched her head before shouting, "SLYTHERIN!" She walked toward the Slytherin table, her gaze briefly meeting Toji's before she sat down. She seemed resigned to the idea that they might be separated.

Next came Hermione, and everyone in the hall seemed certain she would go to Ravenclaw. But after a long pause, the hat declared, "SLYTHERIN!" The shock was palpable. Hermione, looking slightly stunned, made her way to the Slytherin table, glancing at Daphne, who gave her a small nod of approval.

Finally, it was Toji's turn. As Harry Potter, all eyes were on him, including those of the professors. Dumbledore, seated at the staff table, leaned forward slightly, his blue eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Toji stepped forward, his posture calm and collected, his sharp eyes never betraying the storm of thoughts in his head. He approached the hat, but before sitting down, he drew his wand.

The hall fell into utter silence as Toji raised his wand and tapped the Sorting Hat gently. "Scourgify," he murmured, casting the cleaning charm effortlessly.

The hat gave a shudder, and its voice rang out. "Well, well, well… I haven't felt this clean in centuries! Thank you, my boy. As a favor for that, I'll let you choose. Wherever you wish to go, I'll make it so. No one will argue."

Toji smiled inwardly. The plan had worked. He had his mental shields firmly in place, protecting his thoughts from Dumbledore, and now he could choose his path freely.

"I'll join Slytherin," he said, his voice clear and confident.

The hall erupted into whispers of shock and disbelief. The Boy Who Lived, choosing Slytherin? Dumbledore's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his expression unreadable.

But the hat had made its decision. "SLYTHERIN!" it shouted, and the room fell silent once more as Toji calmly made his way to the Slytherin table.

Daphne and Hermione both looked relieved as he joined them, and Toji felt a sense of satisfaction as he took his seat. He had chosen his path, and now the real work would begin.

The feast began soon after, with food magically appearing on the tables. Toji ate, listening half-heartedly to Dumbledore's speech, already formulating his next steps. He had the time, the power, and now, he had access to a wealth of information.

Hogwarts was the perfect place to sharpen his skills further. He could feel the eyes of his fellow students on him, but he paid them no mind. This was only the beginning, and the magical world had no idea what was coming.

As the night drew to a close, the Slytherins were led to their dormitory, and Toji, ever the gentleman, once again offered his hand to help both Hermione and Daphne. They exchanged grateful smiles as they descended into the dungeons of Hogwarts, where the true journey was about to unfold.

The first few weeks at Hogwarts were as dull as Toji Fushiguro expected. He sat through classes, already knowing most of the material being taught. Charms, Transfiguration, Potions—all subjects he had mastered in the years leading up to Hogwarts. The basics felt like a waste of time, and while other students struggled with casting their first simple spells, Toji found himself effortlessly excelling, collecting house points without even trying.

The professors took notice quickly. Professor Flitwick praised him for his near-perfect wand movements. Professor McGonagall marveled at his ability to transform objects with precision. Even Severus Snape, notoriously hard to impress, grudgingly awarded Slytherin points for Toji's flawless potion-making.

It was all painfully easy.

He couldn't help but feel a growing boredom. While other students fawned over their first successful spells, Toji stifled yawns, often glancing around the classroom, silently counting the minutes until the lesson ended.

But Hogwarts had its interesting points, too—if you knew where to look. After one particularly dull lesson in History of Magic, Toji found a surprising source of intellectual stimulation: conversations with the professors outside of class. After a lecture on wand movements in Charms, Toji approached Flitwick with questions—questions that delved far deeper into the theory behind spellcasting than the professor had anticipated.

"What's the relationship between intent and motion in non-verbal spells?" Toji asked, leaning against the desk casually as the other students filed out. "And why do some spells seem to require more physical movement, even when the caster's intent is strong enough to perform the magic without it?"

Flitwick blinked, clearly taken aback by the sophistication of the question. His eyes twinkled with genuine excitement. "Ah! That's a fascinating query, Mr. Potter," he said, launching into a passionate explanation of magical theory that lasted well beyond class hours.

The same happened with other professors. Snape was more curt but no less intrigued when Toji inquired about the more complex properties of potion-making. Toji found that these moments of deeper discussion brought a slight sense of challenge, a chance to sharpen his knowledge.

Then there were the portraits—fascinating relics of Hogwarts' history. Over time, Toji befriended several of them, realizing that while many students overlooked their value, the portraits were an untapped resource. They were more than static relics of the past; they had stories to tell, secrets to share.

One particular portrait, Phineas Nigellus Black, a former headmaster and proud Slytherin, often grumbled at the foolishness of the current generation. But when Toji asked about Hogwarts' hidden passageways, Phineas' attitude shifted.

"Ah, so you're interested in something more useful than foolish Gryffindor bravery, eh?" Phineas remarked with a smirk. "There are a number of ways to get around this castle that even the Headmaster doesn't know. Secret corridors, rooms only those who are cunning enough can find."

It was through Phineas and other portraits that Toji learned of secret passageways connecting various parts of the castle. These paths allowed him to slip from one location to another unnoticed, avoiding the crowded hallways and ensuring he was always one step ahead of everyone else. It gave him a sense of control, of being able to manipulate the castle itself.

But the most valuable piece of information came from the house-elves. He overheard a group of them talking one night while delivering food to the Slytherin common room. They mentioned a hidden room on the seventh floor—referred to as the "Come and Go Room." The elves claimed the room would appear if one walked past its entrance three times, thinking about what they needed.

The idea intrigued Toji. A room that could change itself according to his needs? That had potential. One night, when the moonlight bathed the castle in silver, he decided to find out for himself.

He navigated the hallways, his footfalls silent against the stone floors, until he reached the seventh floor. There it was—the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy attempting to teach trolls ballet. Toji chuckled at the absurdity of it before turning his focus back to the task at hand.

He closed his eyes, walking past the blank wall three times while focusing intently on what he needed. Not just any room, but a place where he could perform a ritual—a space filled with ancient magical tools and circles, designed to help him connect with nature itself.

After his third pass, the stone wall shimmered, and a door appeared, as if from thin air. Toji's eyes widened slightly. It had worked.

Opening the door, he stepped inside and was immediately greeted by the sight of a vast, circular room. The atmosphere was heavy with magic, the air thick and almost humming with power. The walls were adorned with arcane symbols, shelves stocked with rare ingredients, and in the center of the room was a large magic circle, glowing faintly with a mix of green and gold runes.

"This is perfect," Toji muttered to himself, a small smile creeping onto his face.

He moved to the center of the circle, inspecting it carefully. The magic here was potent—stronger than anything he had encountered in the magical world so far. This would do nicely for the ritual he had planned. A ritual to connect himself to the magic of nature, something deeper than what wizards usually tapped into.

After preparing the necessary components, Toji stepped into the circle. The runes flared to life, casting an eerie glow over the room. He could feel the magic wrapping around him, seeping into his body. The sensation was unlike anything he had felt before. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of earth, leaves, and life itself.

Then, as the magic surged through him, a bright, emerald-green light engulfed the room. Toji's breath caught in his throat as he felt the power of nature itself course through his veins. It was as though the very essence of the earth, the forests, and the winds had fused with his own magic.

Every imperfection in his body, every defect left over from his past life, was burned away by the raw energy. His muscles felt stronger, his senses sharper, his magic more in tune with the world around him. The aches and pains he had grown used to vanished, replaced by a newfound vitality.

As the green glow subsided, Toji opened his eyes and exhaled slowly, feeling more alive than ever.

"This feels like I've been reborn," he whispered to the empty room, his voice tinged with awe. For the first time in both lives, he felt truly connected to something greater than himself—something primal and untamed.

He stood there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of the ritual, before his mind returned to the future. This power wasn't an end. It was only the beginning.

Toji smirked, already thinking about his next step. He had Hogwarts, its secrets, and now a connection to nature itself. There was no telling how much further he could push his abilities. But one thing was certain—he had time, and he had plans.

And nothing—not the wizards, not the professors, not even Dumbledore—could stand in his way.

The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the Hogwarts grounds as the first-year students gathered for their first flying lesson. Brooms lay in neat rows on the grass, waiting for eager hands to grab them. Toji, standing confidently with his arms crossed, observed the scene, his expression a mix of mild amusement and curiosity. While others whispered nervously about taking to the skies for the first time, he was focused elsewhere—on Draco Malfoy, who had been eyeing Neville Longbottom's Remembrall with clear mischief.

Madam Hooch, their flight instructor, blew her whistle. "Stand beside your brooms. Right hand over, and say 'Up!'"

Most of the students struggled with getting their brooms to respond, and even Hermione, who excelled in theory, had trouble with the practical aspect. Toji's broom, however, flew into his hand the moment he commanded it, though he did so more out of necessity than excitement. Flying on a broom felt quaint, far less exhilarating than the speed and power his Heavenly Restriction gave him. Still, it would serve its purpose.

Just as Toji glanced over at Neville, who had tragically failed to control his broom and crashed into the castle, Draco seized the moment. With a smirk, Malfoy snatched Neville's Remembrall from the ground, tossing it into the air casually.

"This is for the idiot Longbottom!" Draco sneered, preparing to launch himself into the air with the stolen orb in hand.

But before he could even kick off the ground, Toji moved.

In a blur of motion, faster than anyone could track, Toji dashed at Draco with a speed that left the crowd stunned. He appeared beside Malfoy in an instant, snatching the Remembrall out of his hand without breaking stride.

Draco blinked, dumbfounded. "What—?"

The rest of the students, who hadn't even seen Toji move, gasped as they watched Harry Potter standing with Neville's Remembrall in hand, completely unbothered. Malfoy, who had already mounted his broom, gaped in disbelief, realizing he'd been outpaced before he even took off.

Madam Hooch turned at the commotion and saw Draco mid-air, broom in hand. "Mr. Malfoy!" she barked, her voice sharp. "What do you think you're doing up there? Come down at once!"

Malfoy, now realizing the gravity of the situation, descended awkwardly. As his feet touched the ground, Madam Hooch rounded on him with a scowl. "Detention, and fifty points from Slytherin for reckless behavior!"

The laughter from the other students was immediate, filling the air as Draco's pale face flushed crimson. Toji, still holding the Remembrall, offered it back to Neville with an unreadable expression. The students' laughter turned into outright jeering at Draco, and Toji shot a glance his way, eyes cold and calculating.

"Thanks, Harry," Neville mumbled, his voice trembling with gratitude.

Toji nodded once and turned away, already dismissing the incident from his mind. This was child's play.

The next big event came in Charms Class, where the first-years were learning the infamous Levitation Charm—Wingardium Leviosa. As expected, the students struggled, with feathers either exploding or hovering awkwardly. Ron Weasley, in particular, had difficulty mastering the wand movement, his feather stubbornly refusing to budge.

Hermione, always eager to help, leaned over to Ron. "You're saying it wrong," she said softly, in a kinder tone than her usual bossy one. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, not Levio-sar."

Ron gave her an irritated glance, clearly embarrassed. "Shut up, Hermione, no one asked you."

His words were harsher than he intended, and Hermione's face fell instantly. She whispered a quick apology, her eyes glistening before she abruptly fled the classroom, brushing past Professor Flitwick on her way out.

Toji, however, was in the Great Hall at the time, enjoying an early meal after finishing his assignments ahead of schedule. By the time the rumors of Hermione's tears reached him, it was too late for him to intervene. What did catch his attention, though, was the disturbance in the castle. He could feel it—something large and dangerous was loose.

A troll.

Toji's senses flared, and without wasting a second, he activated a disillusionment spell, allowing him to blend into the background as he moved through the castle like a ghost. His natural speed combined with the spell made him nearly invisible to everyone, including the troll.

When he arrived in the bathroom where the troll had cornered Hermione, his heart rate didn't even increase. The massive creature raised its club, ready to bring it down on her.

Toji moved.

He stepped between the troll and Hermione, his hand shooting up to catch the club mid-swing. The force behind the blow would have shattered a normal wizard, but to Toji, it was nothing. With a single punch, he knocked the club out of the troll's hands, sending it clattering across the floor.

The troll roared in fury, but Toji didn't flinch. With another punch, he shattered the creature's right arm, the bones splintering under the force of his Heavenly Restriction-enhanced strength. The troll staggered back, howling in pain.

Raising his wand, Toji cast "Diffindo!", the overcharged severing charm cutting through the troll's body with a sickening slice. The massive creature collapsed, bisected, its lifeless body falling at Toji's feet.

Hermione, still crouched behind him, looked up in awe, her wide eyes filled with a mixture of shock and gratitude. "Harry… you saved me."

Toji didn't reply immediately, simply extending a hand to help her up. She took it, her hands trembling.

By then, the professors had arrived—Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Dumbledore. Their eyes fell on the scene: the slain troll, Hermione safe, and Harry Potter standing calmly amidst the carnage.

Flitwick was the first to react, his voice filled with admiration. "Fifty points to Slytherin for your bravery, Mr. Potter!"

Snape, though less effusive, gave a curt nod. "Another fifty points for precise spellwork."

Even McGonagall couldn't hide her pride. "And fifty more for quick thinking."

Dumbledore, however, remained silent, his blue eyes studying Toji carefully. There was something different about Harry Potter, something the Headmaster had not anticipated. A calculative frown tugged at his lips, but he said nothing.

Before Toji could dwell on the Headmaster's reaction, Hermione suddenly leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice soft with emotion.

Toji simply nodded, his thoughts already drifting back to the Great Hall. He'd missed most of his meal, and it had been quite good. As they made their way back to the dorms, he found himself lamenting the unfinished feast, but that thought was soon interrupted.

Later that evening, as Toji and Hermione parted ways, he found himself cornered by a group of sixth-year Slytherins. They encircled him, their wands raised, smirking like they'd already won.

"Well, well, Harry Potter, fancy yourself a hero, do you?" one of them sneered.

Toji, unimpressed, simply stared at them, his emerald eyes cold and calculating.

The next morning, the entire school was buzzing with laughter as students passed through the Slytherin common room. Above their heads, ten sixth-year students hung from the ceiling, levitated by an invisible force, each with humiliating phrases scribbled across their faces.

Quotes like "Dumb as a Troll" and "Potter's Personal Jester" adorned their foreheads, while on their backsides, written in bright pink, was a clear warning:

"Mess with Harry Potter—The True Heir of Slytherin, and you'll be decorating the ceilings just like these idiots. Okay?"

Toji, sitting at the Slytherin table with a faint smirk, calmly buttered his toast as the rest of the students gawked in shock and laughter.

He didn't even need to lift a finger. He was already in control.

He'd do better thanHimand I'll have Slytherin all ready to take orders by the time I get to third year.

Rumors of Toji's speed and strength spread like wildfire through the Hogwarts halls. The story of him outpacing Malfoy during the flying lesson and single-handedly defeating a troll had become legendary overnight. While most students whispered about the ''different form James'' "Harry Potter", a select few had taken particular interest—one of them being Severus Snape.

Sitting at his desk in the dungeons, Snape steepled his fingers and gazed into the fire, his thoughts consumed by the boy who had once been a source of disdain but had now become... intriguing. Harry Potter, the son of James Potter, had been expected to be just like his father—arrogant, reckless, and full of himself. Yet, this boy was different. He was calm, methodical, and had a sharp mind that seemed to embody Slytherin qualities to the core.

He had saved a fellow student from a troll, but not in the loud, showy way James Potter would have done. No, Harry had dealt with the troll with precision and deadly efficiency, a stark contrast to the flamboyant recklessness of his father.

"Perhaps," Snape mused quietly, "the boy is not his father after all."

It was a strange thought to accept. Snape had been burdened for years with the resentment of what James had done during their school days. But if there was one thing Snape respected, it was ability—and this Harry Potter, this Toji, had ability in abundance.

As he continued to think, a knock came at the door, breaking his reverie.

"Enter," Snape commanded, his voice smooth but cold.

The door creaked open, and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch captain, stepped inside. His large, muscular frame filled the doorway as he gave Snape a respectful nod.

"Professor Snape, I've come to discuss Harry Potter," Flint said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

Snape raised an eyebrow, motioning for him to continue.

"I've heard the stories, sir," Flint said, stepping forward. "Everyone's talking about how fast he is, how strong he is. The kid's got raw talent, and we could use someone like him on the Quidditch team."

Snape leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping the desk rhythmically. He had considered the possibility. If Harry's physical prowess translated onto the Quidditch pitch, he could be a formidable asset. And though Snape had no particular love for the sport, winning matches—and especially beating Gryffindor—was always satisfying.

"You believe he'd be an asset?" Snape asked, his voice careful and measured.

"I'm certain of it," Flint replied confidently. "We haven't had a Seeker this promising in years, and from what I've heard, his game IQ is off the charts. We should at least give him a chance to prove it."

Snape's eyes narrowed as he considered the request. It was not just about winning or losing; it was about giving this boy an opportunity. Perhaps, if given a chance, Harry might show more of this unique potential that had already set him apart from the rest.

"Very well," Snape said finally, his decision made. "You may offer Potter a place on the team. But I expect results, Flint. Make sure he's worth our time."

Flint grinned. "I will, sir. I'll set up a training session."

Later that day, as Toji sat in the Slytherin common room, reviewing his plans for the future, Marcus Flint approached him, his usual swagger replaced by something more cautious.

"Potter," Flint called, catching Toji's attention. "Mind if I have a word?"

Toji glanced up from his notes, arching a brow. "What's this about?"

Flint cleared his throat, trying to appear casual. "I've heard the stories about you—how fast you are, how strong. Slytherin could use someone like you on the Quidditch team. We need a Seeker with real talent, and from what I hear, you've got it."

Toji leaned back in his seat, considering the offer. He knew of Quidditch, of course, but he hadn't bothered much with it before. It seemed like a good opportunity to test his reflexes, though, and perhaps get a better understanding of wizarding sports.

"Alright," Toji said after a pause. "I'll give it a shot."

Flint's grin widened. "Good. We've got practice tomorrow morning. Don't be late."

The First Practice:

The next morning, Toji arrived at the Quidditch pitch. His fellow Slytherin teammates were already gathered, murmuring amongst themselves about whether the rumors surrounding Harry Potter were true.

When Toji mounted his broom and took off, it became immediately clear that the rumors didn't even do him justice.

He zipped through the air with an effortless grace that left his teammates stunned. His natural speed was unmatched, and his sharp reflexes allowed him to spot the Golden Snitch in mere moments. Every turn, every dive, was executed with precise control, and his ability to predict the flow of the game made it seem as though he had been playing for years.

Flint, watching from the ground, was floored. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "We've found ourselves a prodigy."

Even the older Slytherin players had to admit they had never seen anyone like him before. As the training session came to an end, it was clear that Toji was a force to be reckoned with, and Slytherin had just gained an invaluable weapon for the season.

After the practice, Toji returned to the castle, expecting to have a moment to himself. Instead, he found himself ambushed by a group of Slytherin seventh-year girls. They giggled amongst themselves, glancing at him with playful smirks as they led him into a private room under the guise of needing his measurements for new Quidditch gear.

Once inside, they closed the door, blocking any escape. The leader of the group, a tall blonde with sharp eyes, grinned. "Alright, Potter, let's get those measurements. Strip down."

Toji raised an eyebrow but obliged, removing his outer robes, though he knew this was less about measurements and more about their curiosity. As he removed his shirt, he could see them all eyeing him, their eyes widening at the sight of his well-defined, muscular form. One girl even got a small nosebleed, quickly wiping it away.

He could tell they were more than just intrigued—they were clearly enamored. They lingered, their hands brushing against him unnecessarily as they took the supposed measurements. Toji smirked inwardly, knowing full well what was going on. These upperclassmen were taking liberties they had no right to, but he decided to play along.

As they finished, the blonde tried to sound professional. "Thanks for your cooperation, Potter. You're... impressive."

Toji's smirk widened. "I noticed you all got a little too comfortable. I think next time, I'll return the favor."

The girls blushed furiously, their eyes gleaming with excitement rather than embarrassment. One of them whispered, "Maybe we'd like that."

Toji sighed as they left the room, shaking his head. Being handsome was truly a pain.

The buzz of anticipation filled the air as Slytherin and Gryffindor prepared to clash in their first Quidditch match of the season. The stands were packed with students from every house, eager to witness what had become one of the most hyped games in recent memory. Whispers about Harry Potter's prowess on the pitch had been circulating for weeks, and everyone was keen to see if the rumors were true.

As the teams assembled on the field, Toji stood among the Slytherin players, his broom resting casually by his side. He seemed relaxed, even bored, in contrast to the intense concentration on the faces of his teammates. The Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, was barking orders and giving motivational speeches, but Toji barely paid attention. His eyes scanned the opposing team, focusing briefly on Oliver Wood, Gryffindor's captain and Keeper, before flicking to the Chasers and Beaters.

With a smirk, he mounted his broom.

Madam Hooch blew the whistle, and the match began in an explosion of movement. Toji immediately rocketed into the air, trailing behind the Chasers as they fought for possession of the Quaffle. As Gryffindor's Katie Bell managed to grab the ball, heading straight for the Slytherin goal, Toji's eyes narrowed.

In one swift motion, he dove down at breakneck speed, moving so fast that Katie barely saw him coming. In a blur of motion, he snatched the Quaffle right out of her hands as he passed her, leaving her stunned. Before she could react, Toji was already speeding towards Gryffindor's goal.

With ease, he scored the first point for Slytherin, much to the shock of the crowd. Cheers erupted from the Slytherin stands, while the Gryffindors stared in disbelief.

But Toji wasn't finished. Over the next several minutes, he continued to steal the Quaffle from the Gryffindor Chasers, intercepting their passes and scoring with an effortless precision that left everyone on the field bewildered. His agility and instincts were beyond what any of them had ever seen. He made a mockery of the game, weaving between players as though they were nothing more than training dummies.

At one point, he stood up on his broom, balancing perfectly as if gravity had no hold on him. He placed his hands in front of his face, forming the shape of binoculars, as if he were scanning the skies for the Golden Snitch. The crowd fell silent, unsure of what he was doing.

Suddenly, Toji vanished from sight, becoming invisible to the naked eye. Gasps echoed through the stands, and even the commentators were at a loss for words. For a brief moment, it was as if Harry Potter had disappeared from existence.

Then, without warning, he reappeared high above the pitch, his hand outstretched, holding the Golden Snitch. The game was over.

The Slytherin stands erupted in deafening cheers, their victory sealed in an astonishing display of skill. Gryffindor players hovered in shock, staring at Toji with a mixture of awe and frustration. Oliver Wood slumped on his broom, defeated.

Toji hovered in the air, holding the Snitch for all to see. His smirk was confident, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he basked in the attention. The Boy Who Lived had proven himself on the Quidditch field—and not just as a Seeker, but as a player of unparalleled talent.

Despite the excitement of the match, life at Hogwarts soon returned to its usual rhythm, and with that came a creeping sense of boredom for Toji. The classes were too easy, and the day-to-day activities were repetitive. Even the thrill of Quidditch victories started to lose its luster. He needed something more.

One evening, as he sat in the Slytherin common room, he considered an idea that had been on his mind for a while. Hermione Granger and Daphne Greengrass, his two closest companions, were eager learners, but they lacked the physical edge and speed that Toji had developed over his years of training. Maybe it was time to help them reach their potential.

The next morning, after breakfast, Toji approached the two girls with a proposal.

"How about we try something new?" he asked casually, leaning against a pillar. "You both have a lot of potential, but your spellcasting speed could use some work. A bit of physical training could help quicken your reflexes."

Hermione blinked at him, intrigued but cautious. "Physical training? Like... jogging?"

Toji smirked. "Exactly. Light jogging to build stamina, and some drills to speed up your spellcasting. It'll be tough, but I promise you'll see results."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "And what's in it for you, Harry? Or are you just doing this out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Maybe I enjoy a challenge," Toji said, shrugging. "Besides, I'd rather not be the only one improving around here."

The two girls exchanged glances, and after a moment, they both agreed to give it a try.

Over the next few weeks, Hermione and Daphne followed Toji's training regimen, incorporating morning jogs around the castle grounds and spellcasting drills that focused on speed and precision. At first, the workouts left them exhausted, but soon they began to see the benefits. Their reflexes improved, and their spellwork became faster and more accurate.

Hermione, in particular, became more focused during dueling practices, her once-methodical approach now infused with a newfound agility. Daphne, too, showed marked improvement, her confidence growing as her spells became sharper and quicker.

Toji watched their progress with satisfaction. He had always worked alone, but having two capable allies by his side gave him a sense of camaraderie he hadn't expected.

The weeks flew by, and soon it was Christmas morning. Toji woke up to find a small pile of gifts at the foot of his bed. He opened them one by one—some sweets, books, and a new set of robes. But one package, wrapped in shimmering silver paper, caught his attention. It had no name attached to it, just a note that said, "Use it wisely."

Curious, Toji unwrapped the package to reveal... an Invisibility Cloak. He recognized it immediately—one of the Deathly Hallows, an item of immense power and significance. A wicked grin spread across his face as he held the cloak in his hands. This would make things a lot more interesting.

He attached the cloak to his belt, concealing it within his robes, already planning his next move. The thought of sneaking into the Forbidden Forest had crossed his mind many times before, but now, with the Invisibility Cloak, it was more than just a thought—it was a certainty.

As night fell, Toji slipped on the cloak and vanished from sight, leaving the safety of the castle behind. The Forbidden Forest loomed ahead, dark and foreboding, but to Toji, it was nothing more than a playground.

With the moonlight casting eerie shadows through the trees, he dashed into the forest, unseen and unstoppable. The creatures within didn't even sense his presence as he moved silently, exploring the depths of the magical forest.

This was exactly what he needed. Adventure, danger, and power all lay ahead of him. And with his new toy, the world was his to explore.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the Forbidden Forest as Toji dashed through the shadows. His Invisibility Cloak fluttered in the wind as he moved silently, darting between trees with an almost reckless glee. The wind whipped against his face, but his eyes gleamed with excitement. Tonight was the night for a good fight, and he could feel it in the air.

He hadn't been in the Forbidden Forest long, but already he had encountered giant spiders, wolves, and other strange creatures, all of which had fallen under the might of his fists and spells. With every punch, every creature felled, Toji's grin grew wider. The thrill of combat was intoxicating, each strike satisfying something primal within him.

Toji paused for a moment, listening to the faint sounds of the forest. The rustle of leaves, the distant howls of creatures on the prowl. He sensed movement nearby and immediately turned in the direction of the disturbance.

A Unicorn—a majestic, silver-white creature—was limping through a small clearing, blood trailing from a wound on its side. Standing over it was a dark figure, hooded and cloaked, his hand outstretched towards the Unicorn. It was clear what the figure was attempting: to kill the creature and drain its blood.

With a surge of anger, Toji dashed forward, his cloak fluttering off him as he kicked the dark figure with immense force, sending him flying across the clearing. The dark figure crashed into a tree with a sickening thud, crumpling to the ground. Toji stood between the Unicorn and the attacker, his fists clenched and his smile wicked.

"Not on my watch," he muttered.

The Unicorn backed away in fear, its large eyes wide with pain. Toji turned to it, his expression softening. With careful steps, he approached the injured creature. His hand glowed with a faint green light, a healing charm he had mastered in secret. The Unicorn winced as the light touched its wound, but slowly the bleeding stopped, and the skin began to knit itself back together.

The creature let out a soft, relieved whinny, nuzzling its head against Toji's shoulder. As he petted its sleek mane, a memory flashed in his mind.

Flashback.

A few nights ago, Toji had encountered a group of Acromantulas, the giant spiders that inhabited the deeper parts of the Forbidden Forest. At first, it had been a mere curiosity, but as soon as the largest spider lunged at him, he knew this would be a fight to remember.

Dodging its massive legs, he had summoned his magic, sending waves of force at the beasts. His fists pummeled through their thick exoskeletons, sending cracks along their armored bodies. The spiders hissed and screeched, but Toji had smiled—the bigger the challenge, the better.

With each punch, his heart raced with exhilaration. It was as if he could feel his own strength increasing with every blow, every creature he defeated. By the end of the fight, the clearing was littered with twitching spider legs, and Toji stood victorious, barely winded, eager for more.

Back to the present, he shook his head, grinning as the flashback faded. His hand continued to move gently over the Unicorn's neck. "You're safe now," he whispered.

Suddenly, he heard movement from behind. The figure he had kicked away had risen to his feet, clutching his side. Toji narrowed his eyes. This time, he had a clearer view of the figure's face—it was Professor Quirrell, though his features seemed twisted and darkened, as though something malevolent had taken control of him.

Voldemort's POV:

Rage pulsed through Lord Voldemort, who had been inhabiting the body of this weak, cowardly fool of a professor for far too long. He had ventured into the forest that night, seeking the blood of a Unicorn to strengthen his decaying form, but that plan had been violently interrupted by a boy—a mere child.

The force of the kick had knocked the breath from his host's body. Now, as he rose, Voldemort's anger boiled over. He could feel his power returning, but being drop-kicked away like some common fool had stoked his fury beyond measure. He had not anticipated interference—especially from a student.

"Who dares..." Voldemort hissed through Quirrell's lips, his voice trembling with rage. "Who dares interfere with the Dark Lord?"

The boy turned to face him again, his eyes filled with amusement. He didn't answer, didn't even acknowledge the question, as though Voldemort's presence was nothing but an annoyance to him. That infuriated the Dark Lord even more. Voldemort gathered his magic, intending to strike the boy down with all the power he could muster through this feeble body.

Back to Toji:

Toji watched as Quirrell, or whoever controlled him, gathered magic in his hands. The dark energy crackled through the air, but Toji barely batted an eye.

"Pathetic," he muttered.

In a flash, Toji was on him again. This time, he didn't hold back. One punch to the gut sent Quirrell sprawling to the ground, gasping for air. Toji shook his head in disgust, wondering how such a weak creature could be considered a threat.

Before he could finish the job, though, the dark figure vanished into thin air—fleeing with a swirl of black smoke. Toji frowned, his momentary disappointment replaced by a smirk. The night was still young, and there would be more battles to come.

Satisfied that the threat was gone, Toji turned his attention back to the Unicorn, who had calmed under his touch. He gently guided the creature through the forest, making sure it was stable on its feet.

As they made their way deeper into the woods, a group of Centaurs emerged from the shadows, their bows drawn but their expressions cautious. The leader, Firenze, approached, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Toji and the Unicorn.

"Who are you, boy, that you wander these woods so boldly?" Firenze asked, his voice low and measured.

Toji met his gaze without fear. "Just someone who likes a good fight." He gestured to the Unicorn. "Your friend was in trouble. I made sure it's alright."

Firenze studied him for a moment before nodding slowly. "You have done well to aid the Unicorn. We do not usually trust humans, but you have shown honor. You are welcome in our forest, for now."

Toji smirked. "Good to know."

After ensuring the Unicorn was safely returned to its herd, Toji bid farewell to the Centaurs, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. Not only had he fought well, but he had made unexpected allies.

Later that night, back in the Slytherin dormitory, Toji lay in his bed, the adrenaline from the evening still coursing through him. He closed his eyes, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips as he replayed the events in his mind.

The feeling of his fist connecting with creatures, the look of shock on that dark figure's face, and the thrill of the chase. It had been an exhilarating night.

As sleep began to take hold, he couldn't help but think of the fights that lay ahead—the Forbidden Forest was only the beginning, and Toji knew there were greater challenges waiting for him. He would be ready, and with a bit of luck, there would be more powerful creatures to face, more worthy adversaries.

For now, though, he would rest—dreaming of the battles yet to come, and the strength he had yet to uncover.

Hermione had been noticing some strange patterns over the past few weeks. Certain subtle things didn't add up, and her sharp mind couldn't let them go unnoticed. Professor Snape, for one, had been acting more secretive than usual, and there were whispers of something hidden deep within the school. The clues kept piling up—talk of a legendary stone that granted immortality, overheard conversations between teachers, and even Toji's subtle remarks. She knew something was going on.

One evening, sitting in the Slytherin common room with Daphne and Toji, she leaned forward, her brow furrowed in thought.

"I've been thinking," she said, her voice low but firm. "There's something odd about that third-floor corridor. Dumbledore said it's off-limits, but why? And then there's the Philosopher's Stone…"

Toji raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his face. "You've been digging into the Flamel mystery, haven't you?"

Hermione huffed. "Of course I have. Nicolas Flamel created the Philosopher's Stone, and it's said to grant immortality. I've read everything I could find, but there's not much in the Hogwarts library. And Snape… I think he's after it."

Daphne, who had been silent up to this point, spoke up. "Snape's always up to something, but that doesn't mean he's behind this. Still, I wouldn't put it past him to be involved. The Stone is too valuable, and if someone like Snape wants it…"

"Then we'll stop him," Toji interrupted, leaning back in his chair with an air of confidence. "But first, we need to figure out how to get past all the protections Dumbledore's put in place."

Hermione bit her lip. "There has to be more information. I couldn't find anything on the Flamels in the library, but… wait. Toji, didn't you say your family has access to rare magical knowledge?"

Toji's grin widened. "Not just rare, Hermione. Legendary. And I have just the thing for this." He pulled a dusty, ancient-looking book from his bag. "I found a spell—a time clone spell. It lets me send future versions of myself to study under specific masters. If anyone knows more about the Philosopher's Stone, it would be the Flamels themselves. And this spell will let me learn directly from them."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You're not serious…"

"Oh, I am," Toji replied, his voice smooth and confident. "The Flamels live in France. This spell will create a copy of me and send it to their last known location. While we plan our next move, I'll be studying with them. By the time my time clone returns, I'll have everything we need to understand the Stone—and more."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Is that even safe?"

Toji laughed. "Safe enough. Plus, it's not like I'll be doing this for long. Time passes differently for the clones. I'll gather their knowledge in no time."

With a quick incantation, Toji's clone vanished, sent off to France to find the legendary Flamels. The trio then shifted focus to their research on how to access the third-floor corridor and what lay beneath the trapdoor.

Meanwhile, in France…

Toji's clone stepped into a quaint French village, his senses immediately alert. The clone had appeared right outside a small, ancient-looking house, its windows glowing warmly in the twilight. He knocked, and soon, the door creaked open to reveal Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel, their faces etched with age but their eyes sharp and curious.

"Well, well," Nicolas murmured, his voice old but filled with vitality. "You've come quite a long way, haven't you, young one?"

The Flamels, while old, were welcoming and immediately intrigued by Toji's determination and purpose. After a brief conversation, they agreed to teach him—everything. Their vast knowledge of alchemy, immortality, and ancient magical practices would be passed on to him in a short period, thanks to the peculiar effects of time on the clone. Over the course of weeks, Toji learned how to harness the magical properties of the Stone, secrets of alchemical transmutations, and knowledge of powerful rituals long forgotten by the rest of the world.

As Toji spent his time with the Flamels, he found himself respecting them more than he had anticipated. They were more than just powerful immortals; they were wise, full of centuries of stories and experiences. Even in their final moments, as their lives began to fade, the Flamels were content, happy to have shared their legacy with someone who would put their knowledge to good use.

Sitting beside them as they passed, Toji whispered softly, "Rest well. You've earned it."

With their passing, Toji collected every note, every book, and every piece of their knowledge, sealing it in a two-way dimensional pocket connected to his original self. Once his time ran out, everything the clone had learned would be transferred to Toji back at Hogwarts.

Back at Hogwarts…

The night of the "Don't Let Snape Get the Stone" operation arrived sooner than they had expected. Armed with all the knowledge they had gathered, Toji, Hermione, and Daphne quietly slipped out of the Slytherin dormitory. Clad in their cloaks, they navigated the dark corridors with ease, avoiding prefects and teachers with practiced stealth.

Their destination: the third-floor corridor.

They had made plans, scouted the area, and now it was time to act. Toji led the way, his senses sharp as they approached the forbidden door. Hermione and Daphne were right behind him, their nerves on edge but their resolve unshaken.

They reached the heavy wooden door that led to the trapdoor and paused. Hermione whispered, "We're sure about this?"

Daphne nodded, though her face betrayed a hint of uncertainty. "It's now or never."

Toji grinned, his eyes flashing with excitement. "Let's see what's behind the door, shall we?"

With a quick spell, he unlocked the door, and the trio slipped inside, their hearts pounding in anticipation. They knew the real danger was just beginning, but they were ready. Whatever lay beyond the trapdoor, they would face it—together.

As they prepared to descend, Toji could feel the connection with his time clone growing stronger. Soon, all the knowledge the Flamels had given him would be his.

And with it, they would be unstoppable.

France—Final Moments of the Time Clone

As the clone's time drew to a close, Toji packed the last of the Flamels' research into the two-way dimensional pocket which is linked to himself throghout Time so his creator gets all he got ASAP. He stood at the doorway of the Flamels' now-quiet home, looking out into the distance.

"Well," he said, smiling to himself, "that was worth it."

With a final glance at the peaceful countryside, the time clone faded, his consciousness returning to the original.

The Forbidden Trapdoor

Back at Hogwarts, the three friends stood at the edge of the trapdoor, peering down into the darkness below.

"This is it," Hermione whispered.

Toji felt a surge of power flow into him as the knowledge from his time clone transferred over. His grin widened. "Let's go see what's down there."

With that, they jumped into the unknown, ready for whatever awaited them beneath the castle.

The trio of Toji, Hermione, and Daphne stood before the trapdoor, peering down into the dark abyss. Each challenge had been carefully laid to protect the Philosopher's Stone, but they had no intention of backing down. Toji cracked his knuckles, grinning with excitement, while Hermione adjusted her robes nervously. Daphne, calm and collected, rolled her shoulders, ready for what lay ahead.

"Let's get this over with," Toji muttered, stepping forward.

They dropped into the first chamber, only to be greeted by a massive, writhing plant—Devil's Snare. Its tendrils lashed out, sensing their movement. Hermione immediately recognized the danger, her knowledge kicking into gear.

"Devil's Snare!" she shouted. "It hates sunlight!"

Without missing a beat, she cast Lumos Solem, a brilliant flash of light flooding the chamber. The plant recoiled violently, retreating and allowing them to pass.

"Smart," Toji remarked, patting her shoulder. "I was going to punch it."

Hermione smirked. "We don't need to punch everything, Harry."

They moved into the next chamber, where hundreds of winged keys fluttered in the air. A broom was propped against the wall, and a single locked door stood on the other side.

"Catch the right one, unlock the door," Daphne said, her eyes scanning the room. "Too many keys for us to manually search."

Toji raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing. "I'll handle this one."

He dashed forward, jumping onto the broom in one fluid motion. His speed on the broom was astounding, moving faster than the enchanted keys could keep up. In a mere second, he spotted the right key, snatched it out of the air, and flew back to the ground, all before Hermione and Daphne could blink.

He tossed the key to Daphne, who unlocked the door with ease. "That was fast," Daphne muttered, impressed.

"Quicker we get through this, quicker we get to the fun part," Toji grinned.

The next room was the chessboard. The life-sized pieces stood in position, waiting for players to take their place.

Toji glanced at the massive chessboard, then back at Daphne and Hermione. "We could always just blow this thing up and move on, right?"

But Daphne, an avid chess player, shook her head. "Absolutely not. This is my time to shine. You two can wait."

Hermione and Toji exchanged glances, shrugging in unison. "Your game," Toji said, stepping back. "Have fun."

Daphne took her place on the board, directing the pieces with precision. Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she called out commands, leading the white side into battle. It wasn't long before she checkmated the king, her final move carried out with a cool, calculating smile.

"Harry, next time," Daphne said, turning to him, "you can blow things up. But only after I've had my fun."

The door to the next chamber opened, and they entered the Potion Room. A long table held several vials of varying colors, each labeled with a cryptic riddle.

"Logical puzzle," Hermione muttered as she scanned the vials. Her eyes darted across the labels, and after a moment of thought, she picked up the correct vial with a satisfied grin.

"You two go ahead," Hermione said, stepping back. "I'll stay behind in case someone tries to follow us."

Toji nodded. "We'll take care of the rest."

He and Daphne pushed forward into the final chamber, and there it was—the Mirror of Erised. But they weren't alone. Standing before the mirror, muttering to himself, was Professor Quirrell.

Toji had a flash of recognition. This scene had played out in his memories before. He already knew what was about to happen, so he decided to take a more… direct approach.

As Quirrell turned to face him, stuttering some excuse, Toji lunged forward with blinding speed, gut-punching him hard enough to send him flying across the chamber. Quirrell gasped, clutching his stomach, his turban flying off to reveal a grotesque face on the back of his head—Voldemort.

"W-What…?!" Quirrell wheezed, stunned and disoriented. The dark figure of Voldemort snarled in fury as Toji casually walked over and picked up the discarded turban, examining it with a raised eyebrow.

Toji chuckled, spinning the turban around in his hands. "Nice hat. Shame it didn't cover up that bald head of yours."

Quirrell sat on the floor, dejected and drawing circles in the dust with his finger. There was a comical air of depression around him, like a schoolboy who'd just been embarrassed in front of his classmates. Voldemort, from his grotesque position on Quirrell's head, seemed to sigh, his voice an eerie whisper.

"It's… alright, Quirrell. We'll find another way…"

The bizarre and almost humorous moment was shattered as Voldemort seized full control of Quirrell's body, rising to his feet. His red eyes gleamed with malice as he faced Toji.

"No more games, boy. Let's see if you're truly worthy of the title 'Boy Who Lived.'"

A duel erupted between the two—Toji and Voldemort. Spells flashed through the air, curses and counters flying back and forth with incredible speed. Voldemort, weakened as he was, still showed remarkable skill, his attacks filled with lethal precision. But Toji was faster, more tactical, more unpredictable. He dodged and deflected each spell with ease, his body a blur of motion.

In a dazzling display of transfiguration, Toji transformed the surrounding rubble into a thick, swirling mist. Voldemort's vision was obscured, his senses dulled.

"Where are you, Potter?!" Voldemort hissed, his voice filled with rage.

Toji reappeared behind him, his fist crashing into Voldemort's back with bone-shattering force. The dark lord's temporary vessel, Quirrell, crumbled under the sheer power, and Toji didn't stop—punch after punch landed until Voldemort's weakened form was utterly destroyed. Dust and ash filled the air as Voldemort's essence dissipated, unable to maintain its grip on the mortal world any longer.

As Voldemort's final scream echoed and faded, Toji waved nonchalantly, a huge grin on his face, his eyes shut with joy. "Bye-bye, Voldi! I'll play with you next time."

Voldemort's spirit, filled with fury, swirled in the air for a moment before vanishing completely, leaving behind only silence. But his last words echoed in Toji's mind—a furious vow to return and kill him one day.

Daphne walked over, watching Toji dust off his robes. "You really know how to make enemies."

Toji chuckled. "It's a gift of mine."

As the night came to an end, Toji, Daphne, and Hermione made their way back to their dorms, the Philosopher's Stone safe and their mission complete. Toji couldn't help but think of the excitement, the thrill of the fight. His grin grew wider. The Forbidden Forest, the challenges, even Voldemort—it was all so alive.

But as he crawled into bed that night, he couldn't shake the thought that there were still more fights out there, more challenges to face. He dreamed of those moments, and in his dreams, he hoped that next time would be even more fun.

For now, though, it was time to rest. Tomorrow would bring new excitement, new opportunities—and Toji would be ready for them.

The Great Hall was abuzz with excitement as the students of Hogwarts gathered for the House Cup ceremony. Banners in green and silver adorned the walls, proudly signaling that Slytherin had secured victory once again. Toji sat at the Slytherin table between Daphne and Hermione, the two girls glancing at each other with smiles, pleased with the outcome. The room was filled with cheers from the Slytherin table, while the other houses sat in a more subdued silence.

Headmaster Dumbledore rose from his seat, his eyes twinkling despite the defeat of his favored house, Gryffindor. He made a speech, congratulating the students on their hard work throughout the year, but it was clear that the majority of the room's attention was on the Slytherin students. Snape, standing tall next to the Headmaster, had a smug smile etched on his face, glancing at the other heads of houses with pride.

"Another year," Snape muttered quietly, loud enough for Professor McGonagall and Flitwick to hear, "and another House Cup for Slytherin. I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised, given the exceptional talent in our house this year."

McGonagall gave him a sharp look but held her tongue, and Flitwick merely chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

Toji grinned, leaning back in his seat as Snape continued to gloat. As the feast went on, the doors of the Great Hall opened, and Tracey Davis, another Slytherin first-year, made her way over to their group. She had been watching them from a distance for a while, but tonight, emboldened by the victory and the celebrations, she approached with a confident stride.

"Mind if I join you three?" Tracey asked, her voice casual but curious.

Daphne smiled warmly and motioned for her to sit. "Of course. Welcome to the group."

As Tracey sat down, the conversation turned light and easy, but a subtle tension hung between the three girls. Daphne, Hermione, and now Tracey had all been growing closer to Toji over the year, and now they found themselves in quiet competition. After the feast concluded and the Great Hall began to empty, the three girls subtly drifted apart from Toji to have a private conversation.

"I've noticed it," Daphne began, glancing between Hermione and Tracey. "You two are feeling the same way about Harry as I am, aren't you?"

Hermione blushed slightly but nodded. "It's hard not to. He's… different. Strong, kind of reckless, but smart too. I didn't expect to feel this way."

Tracey sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I thought it was just me, but clearly we're all in the same boat."

The three shared a look of understanding, though the competitive edge in their gazes wasn't lost on each other.

"So what do we do?" Daphne asked.

"Whatever happens," Hermione said, "we should make sure it doesn't come between us."

There was a silent agreement between the girls, but none of them were quite ready to give up on Toji just yet.

As the trio, now joined by Tracey, boarded the Hogwarts Express to return home for the summer, Toji sat by the window, staring out at the passing landscape. The school year had been eventful, but his mind was already on the future.

"You seem deep in thought," Daphne remarked, sitting beside him.

Toji shrugged. "Just thinking about… next year, and what's coming."

Hermione glanced up from the book she was reading, intrigued. "You have plans?"

"A few," Toji replied cryptically, a grin spreading across his face. He wasn't ready to reveal everything just yet. His thoughts drifted to the Philosopher's Stone, the mysterious Flamels, and the countless secrets that still lay hidden in the magical world. He had ideas—grand ones—and now, with his growing power, nothing seemed out of reach.

Back at the castle, the professors had gathered in the staff room for a meeting after the students left for the summer. Dumbledore sat at the head of the table, a frown creasing his normally calm and composed face. The other professors exchanged curious glances, wondering what was troubling him.

Suddenly, the Headmaster's portrait that hung behind him spoke up, its tone urgent.

"Headmaster, we have noticed something... peculiar. Someone invisible entered your office recently."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "What?"

The portrait continued, "Not only that, but they took some of your private notes—and your wand."

The room fell silent, the weight of the revelation sinking in. Dumbledore's mind raced. He recalled the incident that had occurred only a week prior—a harmless stroll through the castle, a cup of tea in hand, when he was suddenly disarmed by an invisible force. At the time, he had thought it a prank—perhaps the Weasley twins up to their usual antics. But now, with this new information, the situation was far more serious.

"Albus," McGonagall said, her voice cautious, "you don't think—?"

Dumbledore shook his head, not yet ready to leap to conclusions. "I must find out who the culprit is. No one but a highly skilled witch or wizard could have pulled off such a feat."

His thoughts turned dark as he considered the implications. One of the Deathly Hallows, the Elder Wand, had been taken from him. The most powerful wand in existence, stolen by an unseen foe.

Far from Hogwarts, Toji reclined in a grand chair inside the Potter mansion, which had long been abandoned but now belonged to him. The house was a reflection of his power and growing influence—a place where he could think, plan, and strategize. And tonight, his thoughts were on three particular girls, the Resurrection Stone, and his ambitions for the future.

He had felt the growing admiration from Daphne, Hermione, and Tracey, and he knew he would have to address it. But the thought of settling down, even in a romantic sense, wasn't something that frightened him. If anything, it intrigued him. Why not date all three? They were smart, capable, and seemed to share his goals. He smirked to himself.

The greater concern, however, was the Resurrection Stone. He knew its location was still a mystery, but he was determined to find it. He needed all three Deathly Hallows to solidify his place as the most powerful wizard alive.

With his invisibility cloak already in hand, and the Elder Wand recently acquired in a rather amusing fashion, all that was left was the Stone.

"To rebuild the Potter line," Toji mused, "I'll need more influence. More power."

He rose from his seat, walking over to a window that overlooked the vast estate. His mind was filled with plans for the future—his relationships, his growing power, the secrets he had yet to uncover. The summer break would be a time for reflection, preparation, and growing stronger.

"By the time I return to Hogwarts," he muttered to himself, "I'll be greater than anyone's ever been."

And with that, he set his gaze on the future—ambitions rising like the stars above.

Toji strode into his private study, a grand and lavish room filled with tall bookshelves that stretched to the ceiling, each one packed with ancient tomes and scrolls. The soft glow of enchanted candles illuminated the luxurious space, casting long shadows on the dark wooden walls. At the center of the room stood a long, polished table made of ebony, its surface gleaming in the light. A luxurious chair, high-backed and adorned with silver and emerald accents, awaited him at the head of the table.

He walked to his seat, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the thick, ornate rug beneath him. The chair embraced him as he sat down, the soft leather molding to his form. His eyes scanned the room for a moment, appreciating the calm and the power that came with it.

With a snap of his fingers, five house-elves materialized before him, bowing low, their ears twitching in anticipation. They wore tailored green tunics, embroidered with the Potter family crest—a subtle reminder of the legacy Toji was determined to shape in his image.

"Listen carefully," Toji began, his voice calm but commanding. "I have several tasks that need attending, and each of you will carry them out with the utmost precision."

He gestured to the first elf, a slight figure with bright, eager eyes. "You, Rinn, will enter me in the Advanced Potioneers' Contest. I want my name to be on the roster for every major potion competition out there, especially the one hosted in Paris later this year."

Rinn's ears perked up, nodding quickly. "Yes, Master Potter, it will be done!"

Turning to the second elf, who had a more serious demeanor, Toji continued, "Wixby, your job is to track down every single book published about me—the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One—all that nonsense. Get the copyrights for all of them. I don't care what it takes, but I want full control over how my story is told."

Wixby bowed low, her eyes determined. "Consider it done, Master Potter."

The third elf, a bit taller and sturdier than the others, waited attentively. Toji glanced at him and said, "Kreel, I want you to enter me in the most prestigious wizard dueling competition in the world. The more elite, the better. I need to test myself against the best wizards out there."

Kreel gave a confident nod, his chest puffing up slightly. "It will be my pleasure, Master Potter."

Next, Toji's gaze fell on the fourth elf, who had an air of quiet efficiency about her. "Sylphie, your task is more delicate. I need you to procure rare resources—artifacts, rare ingredients, hidden knowledge. Anything that's valuable for advanced magical rituals, particularly ones tied to ancient bloodlines and power."

Sylphie's eyes glimmered with understanding. "I will search every corner of the wizarding world, Master."

Finally, Toji turned to the last elf, a seasoned servant with more years of experience than the others combined. "Durm, your mission is the most dangerous. I need you to travel to the Gaunt house. There, you'll find a ring—an old family heirloom. The Gaunt family ring is cursed, so whatever you do, don't touch it directly. Use magic, gloves, anything—but bring it back here intact."

Durm, though unfazed by the danger, bowed even lower than the others. "I will not fail you, Master Potter."

With the tasks assigned, the elves vanished one by one, leaving Toji alone in the room. The silence that followed was comforting. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him as he considered his next move.

His mind wandered to the vast collection of ancient knowledge in his possession. There were wizards of old, long forgotten by most of the magical world, whose exploits had shaped the history of magic itself. Toji had no illusions about the power these figures wielded. Some had been revered as heroes, others reviled as villains, but all of them had accomplished great things, terrible maybe but nonetheless great.

Toji, however, wasn't interested in the moralistic views of good and evil. To him, both sides had valuable knowledge—knowledge that could make him greater than either. He pulled a nearby tome from the shelf, a book about the infamous Dark Wizard Herpo the Foul, the creator of the first Horcrux and master of dark creatures. Herpo's understanding of ancient magic intrigued Toji. While Voldemort had famously drawn from similar sources, Toji believed there were far more untapped veins of power in magic's past.

But British magic, powerful as it was, had its limits. There were other forms of magic around the world, used by cultures and even deities whose abilities far surpassed those of traditional wizards. In Africa, there were legends of sorcerers who could manipulate time itself. In South America, stories of shamans who wielded the power of nature on a scale unimaginable. And in ancient Greece, whispers of the gods of magic, whose very existence challenged the boundaries of what wizards considered possible.

"Gods and goddesses of magic," Toji muttered, a grin forming on his face. "That's where the real power is."

He would need to travel—soon. His journey at Hogwarts had only just begun, but the world was filled with magical secrets beyond its walls. He would learn it all—he would master it all. And when he returned to Hogwarts, he would be more than a student. He would be unstoppable.

But there was one more pressing matter. His thoughts drifted back to the whispers of an ancient creature lurking in the Chamber of Secrets—a Basilisk, if the legends were true. A snake of immense power that had the ability to kill with a single glance. It was rumored to be under the control of the true Heir of Slytherin, a title some suspected belonged to him.

Toji smirked. If he was going to face such a creature, he'd need to sharpen his skills. He had already trained extensively in martial combat and magic, but fighting a snake like that required something more.

"Snake-fighting it is," he said to himself with a chuckle. "Time to prepare for year two."

There was much to do—contests to win, books to control, duels to dominate, and magical resources to acquire. The Gaunt family ring, with its dark curse and hidden power, would soon be in his possession. And in time, he would claim the Resurrection Stone as well, completing his collection of the Deathly Hallows.

With the world at his fingertips, Toji sat back, satisfied with his plans. The summer stretched before him, full of opportunities to gain more power, more knowledge, and more influence. He was well on his way to becoming greater than anyone had ever imagined.

And when he returned to Hogwarts, there wouldn't be a soul who could stand in his way.

The summer months blurred by as Toji embarked on a journey few could comprehend. Using an advanced clone spell he had found hidden deep within the vaults of ancient wizarding families, Toji was able to be everywhere and do everything at once. Each clone represented a version of himself, sent across the world to accomplish different tasks, to attend tournaments, and to explore magical realms that most wizards could only dream of.

Some clones were sent to the Potion Masters Tournament in Paris. Toji's skill had already surpassed many of the most experienced potion brewers, but winning the title required more than just technical prowess—it demanded innovation. His clone concocted potions that pushed the boundaries of known magic, enhancing not only the mind and body but also tapping into ancient sources of power thought lost to time. With each brew, Toji's reputation grew, until he was crowned the youngest ever winner of the prestigious tournament. The victory came with fame, but also with new knowledge, as he traded secrets with legendary potion masters from across the globe.

Another clone found itself in a Wizard Dueling Tournament in Russia, where the best duelists from every magical nation gathered to compete. Toji's dueling skills, honed by endless hours of practice and battle, were on full display. He modified basic spells to unleash area-of-effect damage, turning simple disarming charms into blasts that could knock back entire squads of wizards. Even the Unforgivable Curses were transformed under his hand; his modified Cruciatus Curse not only inflicted pain but spread like wildfire across a group of enemies. The dueling crowds were left in awe, and by the end, Toji had earned the title of the Strongest of His Generation.

Every headline in the magical world screamed his name. "Harry Potter: Boy Who Lived, Now the Strongest." Newspapers were filled with stories of his victories and feats, chronicling the rise of a boy who had not only survived Voldemort but had begun to carve a path of legend all his own.

And with that fame came opportunity. Toji took advantage of the attention and funneled it into his personal empire—Potter Enterprises. Using his newfound wealth and influence, he opened a shop where he sold everything from action figures of himself to cloaks and wands branded with his name. The merchandise was a hit, flying off the shelves faster than any item in Diagon Alley. It was amusing to him how much people were willing to spend for a piece of his fame, and the profits that poured in were staggering. Harry Potter merchandise became the talk of the wizarding world, and with every sale, Toji's power and reach grew.

But while his fame blossomed, his true goals lay far beyond the spotlight. Clones were sent to explore the magical jungles of Africa, the deserts of the Middle East, and the forgotten temples of South America. Each journey brought him face to face with creatures of immense power—basilisks, thunderbirds, and even a kraken that had slumbered beneath the ocean for centuries. Every fight tested him, pushed him to the edge of his abilities, and with each battle, he grew stronger. His body hardened, his reflexes sharpened, and his magical core expanded.

He delved deep into ancient rituals—rituals that could enhance his mind, body, and magical affinity. Some were dangerous, teetering on the edge of dark magic, but Toji mastered them all. He bathed in enchanted springs, chanted in lost languages under the light of the full moon, and performed sacrifices to powers beyond mortal understanding. Each ritual reshaped him, making him faster, stronger, and more intelligent. His magical energy surged to new heights, enabling him to perform feats that bordered on the divine.

One by one, his clones returned to him, bringing with them the spoils of their efforts—artifacts, treasures, and knowledge. The Cloak of Ra, imbued with the power of the sun god, a staff once wielded by Merlin himself, enchanted rings that granted him dominion over the , he found The Excalibur, that will make the wielder invincible and the sheath, that would make its wielder invulnerable. These treasures were stored in his vault, but the knowledge they brought him was far more valuable. He studied these artifacts, unlocking their secrets and using them to modify spells, creating a new form of magic that only he could wield.

His Bombarda spell could now level entire buildings, his Protego shield could expand to protect an entire army, and his Expelliarmus became a concussive blast that knocked out foes in all directions. He had turned his spells into weapons of mass destruction, all while maintaining the precision and control to use them effectively.

As the summer came to a close, Toji found himself sitting in his study once more, reflecting on all that he had accomplished. His fame had reached heights beyond anything he had imagined, but more importantly, he had become unstoppable.

The Daily Prophet continued to sing his praises, naming him "The Strongest Wizard of His Generation," a title he wore proudly, though it was only the beginning. His name was known across the magical world, and he had the resources, both in magic and wealth, to shape his future exactly as he saw fit.

But as he sat there, the accolades felt hollow. He had trained relentlessly, achieved more than any boy his age could dream of, and yet, the thrill of combat, of proving himself, never lasted long. He craved something more—a challenge worthy of his abilities. He leaned back in his chair, thinking about the next year at Hogwarts.

There was a basilisk to face. He had heard rumors about the Chamber of Secrets being opened, and while others might have feared the creature lurking within, Toji looked forward to it. After all, if there was any place where he could truly test his limits, it would be within the walls of Hogwarts, facing a beast that had terrified the school for generations.

But first, there was another matter to attend to—Hermione and Daphne. He thought of their loyalty and affection, their remarkable growth under his training. They had become stronger, quicker, sharper, and were undoubtedly the best witches of their year. Their potential was enormous, and Toji knew they would play a role in his future plans.

He would need to figure out how to handle his relationships with them, but for now, he let those thoughts drift. There were bigger things to worry about—like whether the Resurrection Stone still lay hidden somewhere, waiting to be claimed. Or if the Elder Wand, once held by Dumbledore, could be taken by a wizard strong enough to disarm him.

With a sly smile, Toji stood up and stretched. The future held endless possibilities, and he was ready for them all.

Hogwarts had no idea what was coming next year.