Young Celestial Wizard [Celestial Grimoire, Harry Potter]

[Evoxius]

The night was still in Godric's Hollow as Voldemort walked through the Potter home. James Potter, caught wandless, fell quickly to a flash of green light. Upstairs, Lily Potter stood between her son and the Dark Lord, her voice breaking as she begged.

"Please, not Harry! Take me instead!"

Voldemort's lip curled in disdain. "Stand aside, you silly girl."

"No, please! Have mercy!" Tears streamed down Lily's face as she spread her arms wide, shielding the crib behind her.

Voldemort raised his wand, annoyance flickering across his serpentine features. "Avada Kedavra!"

The green light rushed forward. In her final moment, Lily's eyes widened at something beyond Voldemort's shoulder before she crumpled to the floor.

Looking down at the toddler, Voldemort frowned. This small creature was supposed to be his prophesied downfall? Better to eliminate any threat now, no matter how insignificant it seemed.

"Avada Kedavra," he spoke again, but this time something unexpected happened. A mirror materialized from nowhere, catching the curse and sending it hurtling back toward its caster. Voldemort had no time to react before his own spell struck him.

His body fell, and from it rose a dark wraith that lingered only briefly before fleeing into the night.

The silence that followed was broken only by Harry's cries until a figure appeared soundlessly in the room. He could have been Harry Potter grown to adulthood – the same untidy black hair, the same brilliant green eyes. On the back of his hand was a curious symbol: a triangle containing a circle, bisected by a vertical line.

The man watched the retreating wraith with contempt before turning to the crying child.

"An unfulfilled prophecy... it could be a good source of power in the future," he whispered. From his robes, he drew an unusual wand, its shaft smooth and unadorned, its handle formed by two joined spheres. With a casual wave, he vanished.

Moments after his departure, a deep blue light fell upon the toddler. Harry's cries subsided as the light covered him, sinking into his skin. His green eyes flickered darker three times before he drifted into a long and peaceful sleep.

[Ironclaw Cunning - MtG - Homelands] – Free Roll

The Ironclaw Orcs were one of the greatest orcish bands in Dominaria, as they were magically bound by their camp-wizards never to attack any force stronger than themselves. While most warring cultures viewed this as a detriment, this curse was what made the Ironclaw clan one of the strongest and most successful orcish clans in known history. They never fought battles they couldn't win, and never fought for hopeless causes.

While you aren't bound by their curse, you do share the cunning of the Ironclaw. Thanks to this, you'll always know when you can or can't defeat someone. You'll never underestimate your opponents, and know when it would be best to carefully pull back and make plans for another day. You've also become pretty good at that, taking note of the opposing force's strength and figuring out ways in which you could still win against them

[Nutrition - The Witcher Novels] – Free Roll

In these times famine is a real danger and many people spend long exhausting time at work just to keep themselves fed. Food is bland for the poor, and what they eat depends on the time of the year and their location. Only the rich and powerful can allow themselves diversity and delicacies like catoblepas meat. Before you start to rage at the world for lacking fast food chains know that now that while you may not enjoy taste of your food it is much more filling for you, as you need very little to sustain yourself. Only one or two good meals a week will suffice for a balanced diet for your person. Though do your best not to unveil this before others, as many starve on what keeps you thriving.

[Animagus - Harry Potter] – Free Roll

You are an Animagus, allowing you to change into an animal at will. You may choose any non-magic animal as your alternate form.

oo0ooOoo0oo​

Harry woke up to the rumble of an engine and the whistle of wind. He was flying through the dark sky on a motorcycle, secured next to a giant of a man who was crying softly.

"Poor James an' Lily," Hagrid sniffled, wiping his eyes with a tablecloth-sized handkerchief.

The sight of the enormous man sent Harry into immediate panic. Tears welled up in his eyes as he began to wail. This person was far too big, far too scary!

"There, there, Harry," Hagrid tried to comfort him, his voice wobbling. "We're goin' to see Professor Dumbledore. He'll know what ter do..."

When Hagrid reached to pat his back, Harry's crying intensified. Something deep inside told him this giant could crush him without effort. The toddler squirmed desperately, trying to escape the gentle but firm grip.

Seeing Harry's distress, Hagrid carefully placed him back in the motorcycle's sidecar, fretting over what to do with the distraught child.

Suddenly, Harry felt something shift within him – a way out! His tiny body twisted and changed, and within moments, a small Golden Eagle sat where the toddler had been. The young bird let out harsh croaks, wriggling free of the confining blankets.

Hagrid turned at the strange sound and his jaw dropped as he watched the eagle that was definitely not a baby boy mere seconds ago. Before he could react, Harry spread his wings and leaped from the motorcycle.

"Harry!" Hagrid shouted, frantically searching the blankets before reality caught up with him. "Blimey, that eagle is 'arry!"

High-pitched whistles echoed through the night as Harry plummeted through the air. The ground rushed up to meet him, lights from the small town below growing larger by the second. Pure terror gripped him as he tumbled, unable to process what was happening.

Just before he would have hit the roof of a house, something clicked. Deep, instinctual knowledge flooded through him, and he spread his wings wide. The wind caught beneath them, turning his fall into a wobbly glide. He let out a surprised chirp as he swooped past a chimney, nearly crashing into it.

Banking left, then right, Harry started to get a feel for his new form. Each movement became more natural, though still clumsy. He dipped between houses, his small size letting him squeeze through gaps that Hagrid's motorcycle couldn't follow.

"Come back, Harry!" Hagrid's voice boomed from somewhere above, making Harry duck lower over the rooftops.

The young eagle darted down a narrow alley, gliding over a quiet street lined with parked cars. His wings were getting tired - flying was hard work for a young bird who'd never done it before. He spotted a tall tree in someone's front garden and aimed for it, almost crashing into the branches before managing to perch.

Harry caught his breath, puffing up his feathers against the cold. The scary giant was gone! He let out a triumphant little squeak, feeling very pleased with himself.

The victory lasted only moments. The rumbling of the motorcycle grew louder again as Hagrid circled back, having spotted Harry's golden feathers gleaming under a streetlight. Harry took off in a panic, but his tired wings couldn't carry him as fast as before.

"Got no choice," Hagrid muttered, pulling out his pink umbrella while steering with his other hand. "Stupefy!"

A red light shot past Harry, missing by inches. He tried diving between two houses, but his exhausted wings finally gave out. He started to fall once more, and this time Hagrid's next spell caught him square in the back.

The world went still, and Harry felt himself being gently scooped up by those enormous hands. Despite his fear, they were surprisingly careful and warm.

"There now," Hagrid said softly, cradling the frozen eagle against his coat. "Let's get yeh somewhere safe, shall we? Though Professor Dumbledore's never gonna believe this one..."

oo0ooOoo0oo​

Dumbledore and McGonagall paused their conversation about the Dursleys as the rumble of an engine grew louder. A motorcycle descended from the cloudy sky, landing with a gentle thud on Privet Drive. Hagrid's large form dismounted, still cradling something carefully in his arms.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir. Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said shakily. "We, er, had a bit of trouble on the way."

"What kind of trouble, Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked, stepping closer. "Is Harry safe?"

McGonagall moved forward as well, her eyes widening as she spotted not a baby, but a small, stunned golden eagle in Hagrid's hands.

"Well, yeh see..." Hagrid shifted uncomfortably. "Little Harry here, he got scared of me size, I reckon. Started cryin' something awful. Then..." He gestured helplessly at the eagle. "He just changed! Right there in the sidecar! Flew off before I could stop him."

"Impossible," McGonagall breathed. "An Animagus transformation? At his age?"

"Had to stun him to catch him again," Hagrid continued apologetically. "Poor little thing was exhausted from flying anyway."

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, examining the unconscious eagle. "Most unusual. I've never heard of such a thing. Perhaps a new bloodline gift? He is related to the Blacks and they're known for their Metamorphmagus gift, though this is something different…" He raised his wand. "Hominus Reverto."

The yellow spell hit the eagle, and within moments, a sleeping toddler lay in Hagrid's arms instead. Harry's face was peaceful now, showing no signs of his earlier distress.

McGonagall frowned and kept her eyes fixed on the sleeping child. "Albus, bloodline abilities don't simply appear from nowhere. The Potters have never shown such gifts, and while the Blacks have their metamorphs..."

"Indeed," Dumbledore nodded, "yet I confess I'm at a loss to explain this development."

McGonagall's gaze shifted between Harry and Number Four, Privet Drive. Suddenly, her expression brightened. "Albus, surely you see we can't leave him here now? The entire wizarding world is celebrating 'The Boy Who Lived,' and he's apparently an… innate Animagus! How could Muggles possibly handle this? He could transform and fly away at any moment!"

Dumbledore remained silent as McGonagall continued with her voice rising with each word. "I've watched these people all day, Albus. They're the worst sort of Muggles! Their son was kicking his mother down the street, screaming for sweets. And that husband - I've never seen anyone more opposed to imagination or anything unusual."

"Minerva..." Dumbledore started, but she continued ranting.

"They'd panic at the first sign of accidental magic, let alone an animal transformation! What happens when young Harry gets upset and suddenly there's an eagle flying around their house?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard, deep in thought. The blood wards would provide the strongest protection, but if Harry's new ability meant he could simply fly away... The risks might outweigh the benefits.

"You make valid points, Minerva," he sighed heavily. "But we must consider Harry's safety above all else. Death Eaters are still at large, seeking revenge. Even if we find someone trustworthy, can they truly protect him?"

"Er, beggin' yer pardon," Hagrid shifted the sleeping toddler in his arms, "but why not keep little Harry at Hogwarts? Safest place there is, innit?"

McGonagall turned to Hagrid with a weary expression. "A child needs more than safety, Hagrid. He needs a family, proper care, and attention. Who would raise him at Hogwarts? We're all teachers with responsibilities, not nursemaids."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said slowly, "we have no better options at the moment." He adjusted his half-moon spectacles and looked at Harry's peaceful face. "The castle is indeed one of the safest places in Britain, and while I don't mean to sound presumptuous, few would dare attempt harm with me nearby."

"Albus, you can't seriously be suggesting-"

"It's temporary, Minerva," Dumbledore raised a hand to calm her protests. "We'll need to find a more permanent solution, but for now, Hogwarts can provide both safety and the space for young Harry to learn control over his Animagus transformation. Better that than risk exposure in the Muggle world or make him an easy target elsewhere."

McGonagall pressed her lips together, clearly wanting to argue further but unable to deny the logic. "And who will look after him day to day?"

"I believe," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "we have a staff meeting to call first thing tomorrow morning. With the house-elves' assistance and a careful schedule, we can arrange suitable care for young Harry without overburdening anyone. The castle has raised many children over the centuries - it knows how to adapt."

 

[Evoxius]

When Harry's eyes fluttered open, he found himself surrounded by unfamiliar faces peering down at him. His lower lip trembled when he didn't see his mother's green eyes looked down on him.

"Mama?" he whimpered, looking around desperately. "Dada?"

When no familiar faces appeared, Harry began to cry in earnest. Something inside him recoiled from the powerful presence of those around him, especially the tall wizard with the long silver beard. His body involuntarily shifted and twisted, leaving a small golden eagle where the toddler had been.

"Merlin's beard!" squeaked Flitwick, nearly falling off his chair. "Minerva, you weren't exaggerating!"

"Of course I wasn't, Filius," McGonagall replied, moving slowly toward the distressed eagle-child. "Though I must admit, seeing it again is no less shocking."

Harry let out soft, frightened chirps as McGonagall approached, but didn't try to fly away. She gently gathered him into her arms, cradling him against her robes.

"There now," she murmured, rocking slightly. "You're safe here, little one."

Dumbledore watched them with concerned eyes before turning to address two house-elves who had appeared with soft pops.

"Tippy, Mipsy, we'll need appropriate food and drink for a toddler. Something soft and easily digestible would be best. And perhaps," he added, glancing at the eagle in McGonagall's arms, "some raw meat as well, just in case."

"Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore, sir!" the elves chorused before disappearing.

Professor Sprout moved closer to McGonagall, watching as the small eagle gradually relaxed in her arms. "Poor dear must be terrified. How will we manage this, Albus?"

"We'll create a schedule," Dumbledore said, conjuring a piece of parchment. "Each of us can take shifts caring for young Harry when not teaching. The house-elves will assist during classes."

Professor Kettleburn raised his hand. "I'd be happy to help, but perhaps I should avoid direct childcare given my... current predicament." He gestured to his recently bandaged arm, courtesy of an overexcited Fire Crab.

A soft glow emanated from Harry as he transformed back into a toddler, exhausted from the emotional strain. McGonagall adjusted her hold, letting him rest his head against her shoulder.

"I believe we should set up quarters near mine," McGonagall suggested. "I have the most experience with Animagus transformations, after all."

Madam Pomfrey stepped forward. "I'll need to give him a proper check-up once he's settled. We should establish his baseline health, especially considering You-Know-Who used the Killing Curse on him. Who knows whether that left any injuries?"

As if on cue, Tippy and Mipsy reappeared with a tray of food. There was warm porridge, soft fruits, and a small portion of finely minced meat. Harry stirred at the smell, his small hand clutching McGonagall's robes.

"Let's get him fed and settled," Dumbledore said, rising from his chair. "Tomorrow, we can begin proper arrangements. For now, I believe young Harry has had quite enough excitement for one day."

The staff nodded in agreement, watching as McGonagall carried Harry toward the door. Before they left, Dumbledore added softly, "Welcome to Hogwarts, Harry Potter."

oo0ooOoo0oo​

The years at Hogwarts slowly passed, and Harry grew from a frightened toddler into a curious, albeit eccentric child.

Professor Flitwick became a favorite companion during Harry's second year. The small wizard would levitate toys just out of reach, encouraging Harry to transform and catch them mid-air. These games usually ended with an exhausted but happy Harry curled up in his eagle form on Flitwick's desk, watching the professor grade papers.

Professor Sprout showed him the safer areas of her greenhouses, teaching him which plants were safe to touch. She noticed how he'd watch everything with sharp eyes - even at age three, he seemed to assess each situation carefully before acting.

But it was McGonagall who truly understood him. She recognized the signs of an impending transformation - the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his green eyes would dart around seeking escape routes.

Harry sat cross-legged on the floor of McGonagall's office, an introductory book on Transfiguration open in his lap. After a few minutes of staring at the same page, he closed it with a soft thump and walked over to where McGonagall was grading papers.

"Auntie Min," he said, using the name she allowed only in private, "can I go flying? Please? I'll stay close to the castle, promise!"

McGonagall set her quill down and looked at him over her square spectacles. "You've been very well-behaved lately..." she said thoughtfully.

"And I'll wear the bracelet!" Harry added quickly, bouncing on his toes. The black bracelet was enchanted to let the staff know where he was at all times - a necessary precaution given his tendency to fly off when upset.

"Very well," McGonagall said, reaching over to ruffle his perpetually messy hair. "Go on then."

Harry's face lit up as he grabbed the bracelet from its spot on her desk. The moment it was secured around his wrist, his body shifted into the familiar form of a golden eagle. With a happy chirp, he launched himself through the open window into the bright afternoon sky.

The wind rushed through his feathers as he climbed higher and higher, letting out joyful calls. Up here, he wasn't small anymore. Up here, nothing could hurt him.

His keen eyes swept the grounds below, searching. There - a flash of white. A rabbit, completely unaware of the danger above. Harry's body tensed as predatory instincts took over. One powerful wing-beat sent him into a steep dive.

The rabbit never stood a chance. Harry's talons sank into its back, and he carried his prize to a nearby oak tree. Landing on a thick branch, he kept the creature pinned down, watching it struggle with cold satisfaction.

Here was something smaller than him. Something he could control. After years of being surrounded by wizards and witches who could destroy him with a single spell, after feeling that constant awareness of danger, it felt good to be the powerful one for once.

Harry gripped the rabbit tighter as it squirmed, tilting his head to examine his catch. Just like the castle cats with mice, he loosened his hold slightly, allowing the rabbit to think it could escape before snatching it back. The rabbit's heart pounded against his talons as he repeated this game several times.

When the rabbit's movements grew weak, Harry peered down at the ground far below. He released the rabbit, watching it tumble through the branches. Before it could hit the ground, he swooped down and caught it again, letting out an excited screech.

"Harry James Potter!" McGonagall's voice cut through his play. She stood at the base of the oak tree, hands on her hips.

Harry dropped the now-lifeless rabbit and glided down to a lower branch, ducking his head.

"Transform back this instant, young man."

With a small pop, Harry changed back to his human form, perched carefully on the branch. "Sorry, Auntie Min," he mumbled, knowing he was in trouble but not quite sure why.

"We do not play with our food," she said firmly. "If you're going to hunt like an eagle, you must be quick and clean about it. Now come down here."

Harry carefully climbed down the tree, helped by McGonagall's levitation charm for the last few feet. She took his small hand in hers and began leading him back to the castle.

"But the cats play with mice," Harry protested, having to skip every few steps to keep up with her longer strides.

"And you are not a cat, are you? You are a boy who can become an eagle. Both boys and eagles should know better."

"But why?" Harry whined, dragging his feet as they walked. "The rabbit was smaller than me. And weaker."

McGonagall stopped walking and knelt down to his level. "That's exactly why we must be kind to those smaller than us, Harry. Just because we can hurt something doesn't mean we should."

Harry scrunched up his nose, unconvinced. The rabbit was weak - he knew that as surely as he knew the sky was blue. Just like he knew he could never beat Auntie Min in a fight, or any of the big students with their wands.

"But the rabbit was mine," Harry said stubbornly. "I caught it fair and square. And it couldn't hurt me back, not even a little bit."

"That's not the point-" McGonagall began.

"Is too!" Harry stamped his foot. "Everyone's bigger than me except the rabbits and mice. And the cats get to play with their food, and the older students get to practice spells on smaller things, and-"

"Harry James Potter," McGonagall's tone was stern. "Being stronger than something doesn't give us the right to be cruel."

Harry crossed his arms and pouted. He didn't think he was being cruel. The rabbit was his prey, and he'd caught it all by himself. If it was too weak to get away, then that was its fault, wasn't it? Just like how he had to be careful around the big people with their wands because they were stronger than him.

"Don't want to be kind," he muttered. "Want to be strong."

McGonagall sighed and took his hand again. "Come along. I think someone needs a snack and a nap before we discuss this further."

"M'not hungry," Harry mumbled. "Everyone knows I don't need to eat lots."

McGonagall slowed her pace, looking down at the small boy. "Are you quite sure? You've been flying for a bit."

"Don't want food," Harry insisted, swinging their joined hands back and forth. "The house-elves always give me too much anyway."

McGonagall pressed her lips together. It was true - Harry ate far less than any child his age should, yet he remained healthy and energetic. The healers they'd consulted hadn't found anything wrong, but it still concerned her.

"Perhaps just a small snack?" she suggested. "Tippy made those biscuits you like."

Harry's steps faltered for a moment at the mention of his favorite treats. "The chocolate ones?"

"Indeed." McGonagall felt a small smile tugging at her lips. "And I suppose we could skip the nap, since you're being honest about not being hungry."

"Promise?" Harry looked up at her hopefully, his earlier sulking forgotten.

"Promise. Though we still need to talk about being gentle with smaller creatures."

Harry's face scrunched up again, but he nodded. "Okay, Auntie Min. Can I have two biscuits?"

"We'll see," she said, leading him back toward the castle. Sometimes she wondered if raising a child at Hogwarts was the right choice, but moments like these - just the two of them, negotiating over biscuits - made her heart warm. Even if said child did occasionally torture rabbits in eagle form.

oo0ooOoo0oo​

Harry's footsteps echoed softly through the empty corridor as he made his way past the suits of armor. Filius had been busy with some complicated charm work, and Harry had seized his chance to explore. It wasn't often he got to wander alone - the professors always kept such a close watch on him.

A silvery figure floated nearby, and Harry's face lit up when he recognized the Grey Lady. Ghosts were nice - they couldn't hurt him even if they wanted to.

"Hi!" he called out, waving at her.

The Grey Lady turned, her translucent form shimmering as she regarded him. "Good afternoon, young Potter," she replied with a slight nod.

"I saw a new painting yesterday," Harry told her excitedly. "It had dragons in it! Big ones! And they were all different colors and-"

The sound of voices and footsteps made Harry pause mid-sentence. Three older students in Slytherin robes rounded the corner, deep in conversation.

"I'm telling you, Flitwick's going to test us on Cheering Charms next week-" one of them was saying before stopping abruptly.

"Merlin's balls," another whispered. "Is that Harry Potter?"

Harry tensed but didn't run. He knew they could hurt him - their wands practically screamed danger to his senses - but Professor McGonagall had explained many times that the students wouldn't actually try to harm him.

"It is!" the third Slytherin grinned. "All alone too. No professors around to watch the precious Boy-Who-Lived?"

"We should teach him a little lesson about wandering off," the first one said, pulling out his wand. "Nothing too bad, just a bit of fun."

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Harry tried to dodge, but the spell hit his legs. His whole body turned stiff, making it impossible to run or transform. He fell to the ground, heart racing as more spells followed.

"Rictusempra!"

"Colovaria!"

Harry gasped for breath through forced giggles as his hair turned a bright pink. He couldn't escape, couldn't fly away. The familiar panic started rising in his chest.

"Cease this at once," the Grey Lady's cold voice cut through the laughter. Her usually serene face had turned stern with disapproval.

But Harry wasn't listening anymore. His green eyes had darkened, and something deep inside him warned that these students could seriously hurt him if they wanted to. He needed to get away, needed to be safe, needed to-

[Mist: Phobia - Final Fantasy IX] – Free, 100CP left

The Mist, much feared by those who fail to understand it, has propagated for ages over the Continents to varying degrees – so much so that it is now considered a fixture of Gaia rather than an oddity. You can manipulate Mist to a limited degree, inflicting upon those who are immersed in it a crippling sensation of panic.

Without Mist around, you can naturally conjure a small amount of Mist by converting it from magical power, cloaking yourself in it like a shroud. In areas of high Mist concentration or after burning a large amount of magic, those affected by the Mist will start seeing images of their phobias.

Something inside Harry knew he could say yes or no to this strange power. He didn't really understand what it was, but he was scared and it felt like it could help. Through his forced giggles, he mentally screamed 'YES!'

Harry immediately knew exactly what to do. He felt his magic stirring, changing into something else - a thin wispy fog that rose from his skin. It wasn't enough though. Even while the tickling spell made him laugh so hard his tummy hurt, Harry pushed more and more of his magic out, watching it turn into thick fog that crept toward the three older students.

The Slytherins didn't notice at first, too busy laughing at his pink hair and giggling. But then the fog reached their feet, swirling up around their legs.

"What's happening?" one of them asked, his smile dropping away.

Harry felt really tired now, like after flying for too long, but he kept watching as the fog got thicker around them. Then the screaming started.

"Acromantula! Get it away!" the tallest boy shrieked, shooting spells at nothing. "It's everywhere! Help!"

The other two weren't doing much better. One had dropped his wand and was running in circles, while the third had curled up into a ball, whimpering about You-Know-Who.

Harry would have laughed if he wasn't so exhausted. He'd never seen big kids so scared before.

The Grey Lady drifted away with an odd look at Harry, leaving him still frozen on the floor while the older boys stumbled around in terror.

A couple of minutes later, quick footsteps echoed down the hall, and Snape appeared. Harry would have made a face if he could. Snape was always mean to him, saying stuff like "Just as arrogant as your father" whenever Harry did anything wrong.

"What is the meaning of this?" Snape demanded, staring at his panicking students.

The Grey Lady floated back. "I believe they're under some sort of curse. Simple commands won't help."

Snape's frown deepened as he raised his wand, levitating the three boys away from the mysterious fog. They gradually stopped screaming, though they still looked pale and shaky.

"These students were attacking young Mr. Potter," the Grey Lady informed him. "They had him cursed with a Body-Bind and were casting hexes at him."

Snape's expression turned dangerous as he glared at the three Slytherins. "Finite Incantatem," he said sharply, pointing his wand at Harry.

Harry jumped to his feet the moment he could move again, staying well away from everyone else.

"All of you," Snape's voice was cold, "will follow me to the Headmaster's office. Now."

Harry trailed along behind them, wondering if he was in trouble too. At least his hair wasn't pink anymore, and Grandpa Dumbledore should take his side in this…

 

[Evoxius]

Snape marched them through the corridors, and Harry stayed at the back of the group, watching the three older boys shuffle along with their heads down. They didn't look so scary anymore.

When they reached the gargoyle guarding Grandpa Dumbledore's office, Snape muttered "Fizzing Whizbee" and the statue leapt aside. Harry had always liked watching that part.

The three Slytherins were very quiet now as they climbed the spiral staircase. Their faces were still pale, and they kept glancing nervously at Harry when they thought no one was looking. Harry noticed this and couldn't help feeling a bit pleased - they weren't so brave now that they'd gotten caught.

As soon as they entered the circular office, Harry spotted the familiar figure of Grandpa Dumbledore behind his desk.

"Grandpa!" Harry ran over to him, ignoring Snape's disapproving look. "They were being mean! They made me all stiff and I couldn't move and then they made me laugh and laugh and my hair went pink!"

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled as he pulled Harry onto his lap, though his expression grew more serious as he looked at the three Slytherin boys. "Is this true, Professor Snape?"

"According to the Grey Lady, these three were indeed attacking Mr. Potter. When I arrived, they appeared to be experiencing some form of mass hysteria, surrounded by fog."

Harry cuddled closer to Dumbledore, feeling safe now. "They couldn't hurt me anymore after the Mist came," he said proudly. "They got all scared instead."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "And what happened then, my boy?"

Felix Rosier, the tallest of the three Slytherins, stepped forward. "Headmaster, we were only trying to help-"

"Are you quite certain that's the story you wish to tell?" Snape cut in silkily. "The portraits in that corridor would be most interested in sharing their version of events."

Felix's already pale face went whiter still, and he fell silent.

"Why," Dumbledore asked quietly, "would three fifth-year students decide to cast spells on a four-year-old child? What could possibly have motivated such behavior?"

When no answer came, Dumbledore sighed disappointedly and continued. "One hundred points will be taken from Slytherin. For each of you. You will serve detention for the remainder of the school year, with Professor Snape deciding the nature of your punishment. Furthermore, you will be suspended for three weeks. Your parents will be notified to collect you, and they will be fully informed of your actions today." He paused, looking at each boy in turn. "You will also apologize to young Harry."

"We... we understand, Headmaster," Felix managed weakly.

"Follow me," Snape commanded, his expression promising further consequences once they reached the Slytherin Common Room. The three boys shadowed their Head of House, shoulders slumped.

Once they were gone, Dumbledore looked down at Harry, who was practically vibrating with glee. "Now then, what's this about mist?"

"Oh! Oh!" Harry beamed up at him. "When they were being mean, something told me I could make Mist! And it said-" his face scrunched up in concentration as he tried to remember the exact words, "It said I could make people panic if they're in it! And if I use lots of magic, they see things they're really scared of!"

"Did it now?" Dumbledore's eyebrows rose slightly. "And how exactly did you learn about this... spell?"

"I dunno," Harry shrugged, playing with the sleeve of his robe. "It just popped in my head when I got scared. Like magic!"

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, watching the small boy bounce on his feet. "Could you show me this mist, Harry?"

"Right now?" Harry's green eyes lit up with excitement. "But who should I use it on? I don't wanna make you scared, Grandpa."

"Ah, not to worry." Dumbledore smiled warmly and raised his hand. A small snap later, and three colorful canaries appeared, chirping merrily as they fluttered around the office.

"Wow!" Harry clapped his hands, momentarily distracted by the display. "Can you teach me to do that?"

"Perhaps when you're a bit older," Dumbledore chuckled. "Now, about that mist?"

"Oh, right!" Harry scrunched up his face in concentration. Just like before, wispy tendrils began rising from his skin, gradually thickening into a swirling fog. The mist crept across the floor toward the birds, who were still singing cheerfully.

The moment the fog touched them, their sweet songs turned to frightened chirps. The birds began flying erratically around the office, bumping into each other in their panic.

Dumbledore watched with plain amazement as his conjured birds lost all semblance of control. "Deliberate wandless magic at such a young age...?" he murmured, more to himself than to Harry.

Dumbledore kept muttering to himself, occasionally casting a spell at the fog that still lingered in his office. The frightened birds had finally calmed down after the mist dissipated around them, returning to their cheerful chirping.

"Harry," Dumbledore said after a while, lowering his wand. "Could you do something for me?"

"What is it, Grandpa?" Harry asked, swinging his legs as he sat in the big chair across from Dumbledore's desk.

"I'd like you to look into my eyes and think very hard about when that 'something' told you about making the mist. Can you do that for me?"

Harry nodded eagerly, always happy to help his Grandpa. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, remembering the strange words that had appeared in his head. Opening his eyes again, he met Dumbledore's blue gaze.

A few seconds passed before Dumbledore let out a relieved breath. "Well, that's rather interesting," he said, reaching for his candy bowl. "Lemon drop?"

"Yes please!" Harry grabbed the offered sweet, popping it into his mouth. "Did I do good?"

"You did very well," Dumbledore smiled, though his expression grew more serious. "But… we need to talk about this new spell of yours."

"Am I in trouble?" Harry asked around the lemon drop, his lower lip starting to wobble.

"No, no, not at all," Dumbledore assured him quickly. "But we need to set some rules about when you can use this mist. You see, making people see their fears isn't very nice."

"But they were being mean first!" Harry protested.

"I understand that, Harry. And you were very brave today," Dumbledore said gently. "But I want you to promise me something. If anyone tries to bully you again, I want you to transform into an eagle and fly straight to the nearest professor. Can you do that instead of using the mist?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, rolling the lemon drop around in his mouth. "Even if they're being really, really mean?"

"Even then. Unless you have no other choice," Dumbledore nodded. "I'll make an announcement at dinner tonight about what happened, so the other students will know not to bother you. But just in case, promise me you'll try to find a professor first?"

"Okay, Grandpa," Harry agreed reluctantly. "I promise."

Dumbledore reached for another lemon drop as he watched Harry swing his legs back and forth in the oversized chair. The boy's earlier fright seemed forgotten now that he was safe in the familiar office.

"Actually, Harry, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about," Dumbledore said, unwrapping his sweet. "The Ministry is having a special gathering next week. Lots of important witches and wizards will be there with their children."

Harry perked up at that. "Children? Like me?"

"Yes, exactly like you. Some are even your age," Dumbledore smiled. "I thought you might like to come with me. Perhaps make some new friends?"

Harry's face scrunched up in thought. "Will Auntie Min come too?"

"If you'd like her to, I'm sure she would be happy to join us."

"What about the other kids? Are they bigger than me?" Harry asked, remembering his earlier encounter with the older students.

"No, no. These children are just your size," Dumbledore assured him.

Harry fidgeted with the hem of his robes. "But what if they don't like me?"

"I think they'll like you very much. And if you feel scared, you can always hold Auntie Min's hand. What do you say?"

"Can I bring my special bracelet?" Harry held up his arm where the bracelet was wrapped around his wrist.

"Of course you can. We wouldn't want to leave that behind, would we?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll go. But you promise the others are small like me?"

"I promise," Dumbledore said solemnly, though he had a small smile on his face. "Now, shall we go find Auntie Min and tell her about our plans?"

oo0ooOoo0oo​

A week later, Harry clutched McGonagall's hand tightly as they prepared to apparate to the Ministry. He'd never done this before, and his stomach felt all fluttery.

"It'll feel a bit strange," McGonagall warned him, "but it'll be over quickly."

Harry nodded bravely, but still squeezed his eyes shut when the world twisted around him. When he opened them again, they were standing in a huge room with shiny floors and lots of people walking around.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore said, placing a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. "The children's gathering is just through those golden doors."

Harry peered around McGonagall's robes at the other children playing in the next room. Some were chasing each other, while others sat in small groups with floating toys.

"Remember what we talked about," McGonagall said softly, smoothing down his perpetually messy hair. "If you need me, I'll be right over there with the other adults."

A witch with bright yellow robes greeted them at the playroom entrance. "Oh my, if it isn't Harry Potter! Welcome, welcome! I'm Miss Pembroke, and I'll be watching over all the children today."

Several kids stopped what they were doing and rushed over, forming a small crowd around Harry. He straightened up, noticing right away that none of them felt dangerous like the older students at Hogwarts.

"Are you really the Boy-Who-Lived?" a girl with pigtails asked, bouncing on her toes. "My mummy says you live at Hogwarts!"

"Is it true you fought a dragon last week?" a boy with missing front teeth chimed in. "My brother said you did!"

Harry giggled. "I didn't fight any dragons, they're still too strong for me! But I do live at Hogwarts with all the professors."

"What's it like?" another girl asked. "Do you get to do lots of magic?"

"Sometimes," Harry said, puffing up his chest a bit. "Auntie Min - that's Professor McGonagall - she teaches me lots of things. And I can turn into a bird!"

"No way!" several voices chorused.

A boy with perfectly combed blonde hair pushed his way to the front. "Prove it then! I bet you're lying."

Harry immediately felt annoyed at the way this boy was talking – he was way too weak to accuse him of anything. "I don't have to prove anything to you," he said, crossing his arms. "You're too little to understand anyway."

"I'm not little!" the blonde boy protested. "I'm Draco Malfoy, and my father says-"

"Want to play exploding snap?" a friendly-looking boy interrupted, holding up a deck of cards. "My mum put a charm on them so they only make tiny pops."

"I'm better at chase games," Harry said, knowing he could easily outrun them. "Want to play tag instead?"

Most of the children agreed enthusiastically, but Draco hung back with a scowl. "That's a baby game."

"You're just scared I'll catch you first," Harry taunted, feeling bold.

"Am not!"

"Prove it then," Harry mimicked Draco's earlier tone. The other children giggled.

Soon they were all running around the playroom, shrieking with laughter as Harry easily caught one child after another. He was faster and more coordinated than them, used to racing around Hogwarts' corridors and catching small prey outside of the castle.

"Got you!" Harry tagged a small girl with red hair. She stumbled and started crying when she fell.

"Susan!" Miss Pembroke hurried over. "Are you alright, dear?"

"Harry pushed me!" Susan sniffled.

"Did not!" Harry protested. "She fell by herself 'cause she's clumsy!"

"Now, Harry," Miss Pembroke began, "we need to be gentle with-"

"But she's just being a baby," Harry interrupted. "I barely touched her! It's not my fault she's weak and falls over nothing."

Harry watched Susan cry, reminded of how the white rabbits would squeal when he caught them. She was small and weak just like them. Though he couldn't play with her the same way - Auntie Min would be really mad, and everyone else would probably not play with him anymore.

"Perhaps we should try a different game," Miss Pembroke suggested, helping Susan up. "Who wants to play with the snitches?"

The children cheered and followed Miss Pembroke to where several toy brooms and practice snitches waited. Harry took the lead, making sure to stay ahead of the group.

They had been chasing the snitches for a few minutes when one of them started moving strangely. The snitch's wings hummed with an angry buzz before it shot toward his head, much faster than the others.

His body tensed as danger flooded his senses. Without thinking, Harry transformed into an eagle, the snitch whizzing past where his head had been moments before.

"Immobulus!" The Ministry worker supervising them quickly froze the malfunctioning snitch. "I am so sorry about that! These are supposed to be child-safe..."

Harry changed back, still tense at the unexpected danger. The other children crowded around him, their eyes wide with excitement.

"That was so cool!"

"Can you teach me?"

"Do it again!"

"How'd you learn that?"

"It's only because he lives at Hogwarts," a boy with dark hair cut in. "And has no parents. If I lived there, I could do it too!"

Harry felt his face get hot. "What's your name?" he demanded.

"Theodore Nott," the boy said, lifting his chin.

"Well, Theodore," Harry stepped closer, "you're wrong! I can do it because I'm the Boy-Who-Lived. Not 'cause I don't have..." he trailed off, getting angrier.

"At least I have parents!" Theodore shot back.

Harry went very still. His angry expression melted away into an odd smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Want to be friends, Theo?" he asked sweetly, holding out his hand.

Theodore stared at the offered hand. "Why?"

"Just shake it," Harry insisted, grabbing Theodore's hand before he could pull away. A thin wisp of mist curled around their joined hands, cool and damp against their skin. The air grew heavy with an unnatural chill that made Theodore's fingers tremble in Harry's grip.

Theodore's eyes went wide with fear. His lower lip trembled as he tried to tug his hand free.

"Still think you can do everything I can?" Harry asked quietly.

Theodore shook his head quickly, tears forming in his eyes.

Harry let go of his hand and grinned at the other children who were watching. "Let's keep playing! I bet I can catch the snitch first!"

Theodore stood frozen in place as Harry ran off with the others. Harry glanced back, feeling confused. Why had Theodore tried to be mean to him? Everyone should know better - just like how Harry knew not to bother the students because they were stronger than him.

"Weird," Harry muttered to himself as he chased after a practice snitch. Maybe Theodore was just dumb, like those rabbits that tried to fight back instead of running away. And that Draco boy too - acting all important when Harry could tell neither of them could hurt him at all.

"Harry! Harry, look!" Susan had long forgotten about their little 'fight' and was now pointing at something. "The snitch is stuck in the curtains!"

Harry zoomed over on his toy broom, spotting the golden ball trapped in the heavy fabric. He reached out to grab it, but paused when he noticed Theodore staring at him from across the room. The boy quickly looked away when their eyes met.

"Got it!" Harry announced, snatching the snitch and holding it up. The other children clapped and cheered, making him smile. This was better - they were acting right now, being nice to someone stronger than them.

Miss Pembroke called them all for snacks soon after. Harry sat between Susan and a quiet boy named Neville, deliberately ignoring Theodore who kept stealing glances at him.

"Want my biscuit?" Neville offered shyly. "Gram says sharing is nice."

Harry grinned. "Thanks! But I'm not very hungry. Auntie Min says I don't need to eat much."

"Who's Auntie Min?" Susan asked through a mouthful of juice.

"Professor McGonagall. But I only call her that when there's other students nearby," Harry explained proudly. "She teaches me lots of stuff, and doesn't get mad when I turn into an eagle inside."

The other children looked impressed, except for Theodore who was still pretending not to listen. Harry wondered if maybe he should use the mist again, just to remind him who was stronger. But Grandpa had made him promise...

 

[Evoxius]

"Thank you for coming today, Harry," McGonagall said as they prepared to leave the playroom. Some of the other children were already heading out with their parents, Draco Malfoy strutting ahead of his father while showing off his new toy snitch.

"Auntie Min, did you see me catch all the snitches?" Harry chattered excitedly next to her. "Even the fast ones! And I made new friends and-"

He stopped mid-sentence, his smile fading. Something in the corner of his eye made his tummy feel funny. Not hungry-funny or sick-funny, but the same way it felt when the bigger students were nearby. His eyes darted around until he spotted it - a small brown weasel near a potted plant.

Harry frowned, grabbing McGonagall's hand tightly. The weasel felt wrong. Not as strong as Grandpa or Auntie Min, but way stronger than any animal should be. Like when he saw the sixth years practice dueling, but even stronger somehow.

"Auntie Min," he whispered, tugging on her robes. "That weasel... it's dangerous."

He didn't know how to explain it better. How do you tell someone that a little weasel felt more dangerous than most of the adults?

McGonagall looked down at him, noting his sudden change in demeanor. Harry wasn't usually this quiet unless something was truly wrong. She followed his gaze to the weasel, tensing as she registered the unnatural stillness of the creature.

"Harry, get behind-" she started, but the weasel had already noticed them watching.

But the weasel had already noticed them watching, and suddenly there was a scary wizard there instead - with wild eyes and torn black robes. Harry had never felt danger like this directed at him before.

"The famous Boy-Who-Lived," the wizard snarled, his wand already moving. "My Lord's killer!"

Several things happened very fast. McGonagall's shield charm blocked the first spell. Harry transformed into an eagle purely because his body told him to, wings beating frantically as he tried to get away. And Draco Malfoy, who had been showing off his snitch-catching near the door, shouted "Watch this, Harry!" and unknowingly ran right into the path of the wizard's second spell.

A flash of purple light hit Draco in the chest. The blonde boy crumpled to the ground with a small whimper that made Harry's eagle heart skip. That spell had been meant for him. That spell had been meant for him and now Draco, who wasn't even close to being as strong as Harry, was hurt because of it.

The scary wizard laughed - an awful sound that reminded Harry of the time he'd heard a fox killing its prey. "Crucio!" he shouted, aiming at Harry again.

But then Grandpa was there, appearing between Harry and the bad wizard like he'd always been there. Harry had never felt power like this from him before - it was like watching a dragon fight an ant.

"Rookwood," Dumbledore said quietly, but his voice carried through the whole room. With just a wave of his hand, the bad wizard's spell was blocked by a pane of glass that immediately exploded into glass shards.

The wizard - Rookwood – turned into black smoke that immediately flew straight for the exit at speeds even Harry couldn't match so quickly as an eagle, but Dumbledore's magic grabbed him like invisible hands. Harry watched in awe as his Grandpa forced the scary wizard to his knees without even using his wand.

"You dare," Dumbledore's voice was colder than Harry had ever heard it, "attack children in my presence?"

Harry landed on McGonagall's arm, transforming back but keeping his eyes fixed on the scene. He could hear Draco crying softly where his father was holding him, could hear other children sniffling too.

"He killed our Lord!" Rookwood spat, struggling against Dumbledore's magic. "The Dark Lord would have given us everything! And this brat-"

"Silencio," Dumbledore said almost lazily, and Rookwood's voice cut off. More Aurors were rushing in now, led by the scary eye-wizard from before.

But Harry wasn't really listening anymore. He was thinking about Draco getting hurt. About how he'd felt the danger but hadn't said anything fast enough.

"Grandpa?" he asked in a small voice. "Is... is Draco going to be okay?"

Dumbledore's face softened as he looked at Harry, though his magic still held Rookwood firmly. "He will be, my boy. Though I believe we need to have a talk about what happened today."

Harry nodded, watching as the Aurors took Rookwood away. He noticed that none of the other children would look at him now. They huddled with their parents, stealing scared glances his way.

It made his tummy feel funny again, but not like danger-funny. More like lonely-funny. He'd just started making friends, and now...

"I should have said something sooner," he whispered to McGonagall. "About the weasel feeling wrong. Then Draco wouldn't..."

"You did very well, Harry," McGonagall said firmly, but Harry could feel her hand trembling slightly where it rested on his shoulder. "You noticed the danger when none of us did. That's very impressive for someone your age."

Harry stared at the floor, feeling strange inside. Draco had gotten hurt because he was too weak - that's how things worked. When Harry played with rabbits as an eagle, the slow ones got caught. When the older students were mean, it was because they were stronger. But seeing Draco fall like that made his tummy feel all twisty, even though it shouldn't.

"Can we go home now?" he asked quietly. "I don't... I don't think anyone wants to play anymore."

While Auntie Min led him away, he heard Mr. Malfoy's angry voice rising behind them: "Dumbledore, this is outrageous! My son could have been killed! Having that boy here without proper security-"

Harry squeezed McGonagall's hand tighter. He wasn't going to cry - crying was for babies. But why did he feel so bad? Draco was the one who ran in front of the spell like a dumb rabbit. That's what Harry always thought when small things got hurt - they were just too weak or too stupid. So why did his chest hurt when he remembered Draco's whimper?

Just then, while these confusing thoughts swirled in his head, his green eyes darkened momentarily...

[Once Every Century - Fate/Legends - Empires of Antiquity] – 100CP, 100CP left

Talent that comes only once in a hundred years might stand out at the time but against the expanse of history? It just means there's been a dozen or two others like that already. World class talent might be the peak of what normal humans can do but it's just the start for those in the magical world. Like the famed Salieri and his music, you have that world class talent in one art form of your choosing. Singing, the piano, painting, architectural design, acting or some other method. With just this and the right connections, you could certainly go down in the history of the mundane as one of the greatest performers of your art to ever live. But you've got the potential to go further, as you find yourself having a moderately easier time learning magical spells and abilities closely associated with your chosen art, as well as such things becoming easier to use and somewhat more powerful as well. Magic cast through a special instrument of the musical art you've mastered would be stronger, whereas a great painter would find magic relating to manipulating paintings and drawn images to be significantly better for them than any others.

Harry closed his eyes momentarily, trying to push away the scary thoughts. He didn't want to think about Draco getting hurt anymore. The strange words about talent, art and singing filled his head, and he latched onto it eagerly.

"Auntie Min?" He tugged at her sleeve as they stepped out of the fireplace in Hogsmeade, green eyes bright with forced excitement. "What's better - singing or drawing or... arki... archi..."

"Architecture?" McGonagall offered gently. She noticed how quickly he'd switched topics, but didn't comment on it. If focusing on something new helped him cope with what happened, she would follow his lead.

"What's that mean?" Harry asked, deliberately jumping into a puddle. Water splashed everywhere, but he didn't care - puddles were fun, and fun things made bad memories go away.

McGonagall sighed fondly and cast a cleaning charm on his shoes. "It means designing buildings, like castles and houses."

"Oh." Harry wrinkled his nose. "That's boring. But what about the other things? Can you do magic with singing?"

McGonagall nodded as they walked along the path to Hogwarts. "Some wizards and witches use music in their spells. Professor Flitwick leads a choir with the older students."

"Really?" Harry bounced on his toes, genuinely interested now. "But what about drawing? Like the pictures in the castle that talk to me!"

"That's right. Magical artists can create all sorts of wonderful things. Portraits that move and speak, paintings you can step into..."

"Could I make my dragon drawings fly around for real?" Harry bounced excitedly beside her.

"With proper training, yes. Though that's very advanced magic," McGonagall smiled down at him, noting how the tension had slowly left his shoulders as they walked. "Would you like to learn more about magical art?"

"Yes! Yes!" Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Can we ask Uncle Filius for more crayons? And maybe some of those special paints that change color?"

"I suppose we could," McGonagall said. "But you'll have to promise not to draw on the castle walls again."

"That was one time!" Harry protested. "And the suit of armor said he liked his new mustache!"

McGonagall tried to hide her smile. "Nevertheless, paper only from now on. Deal?"

"Deal!" Harry grinned, then immediately got distracted by a chocolate frog hopping across their path. "Look! Can I catch it?"

"We're almost late for dinner as it is," McGonagall said, gently steering him back toward the castle. "Perhaps tomorrow we can ask Filius about those art supplies."

Harry skipped alongside her, already planning all the magical pictures he would make. Maybe he could even draw something scary enough to keep the mean older students away - though it probably wouldn't be as scary as his mist.

 

[Evoxius]

2nd​ of May, 1986.

The spring breeze ruffled Harry's golden feathers as he soared through one of Hogwarts' many open corridors. Flying was still the best thing ever, even after doing it for years. He liked how the castle looked different from up here - all the little nooks and passages he couldn't reach as a human were perfect for an eagle.

As he glided past the fifth floor, voices caught his attention. A group of students were huddled around what looked like a frozen suit of armor, frost creeping up the stone walls around it.

"Incendio!" A red-headed boy with a Gryffindor tie called out, orange flames shooting from his wand. The ice hissed but barely melted.

"You're doing it wrong," a girl with brown hair said, pushing up her sleeves. "Professor Flitwick said we need to concentrate the flame more, like this-"

Her spell came out stronger, making the ice crack slightly. She paused mid-cast, looking up as Harry flew overhead. "Hey, look! That's Harry Potter, isn't it?"

"Focus, Lottie!" the red-headed boy said. "This ice is spreading faster than last time..."

Harry circled once more, curious. He'd heard the older students talking about something called a Cursed Vault making ice appear everywhere. It seemed silly that Grandpa hadn't fixed it yet - he could probably melt all the ice with just one spell. But grown-ups were weird sometimes.

Flapping his wings, Harry continued up toward the Astronomy Tower. It was empty this early in the afternoon, which was perfect. He landed gracefully on the stone floor, shifting back to human form and straightening his black robes.

"Much better," he muttered, pulling out his special brown pouch. Uncle Filius had made it bigger on the inside last month, after Harry complained about having to drag his art supplies around in a huge bag. Now everything fit perfectly!

Harry hummed to himself as he set up his easel, making sure it faced the best view of the mountains. The tape Septima gave him helped keep the canvas straight - she'd shown him how to measure the angles properly during maths lessons, though Harry usually just eyeballed it now.

His magical paints came next, all lined up on the palette just how he liked them. The blues that would turn purple, greens that became gold, and his favorite - the silver that slowly changed to pink. The bottles sparkled in the sunlight as he arranged them.

After putting on his special paint smock (covered in tiny moving snitches from Madam Hooch), Harry grabbed his favorite brush. It was shorter than the others, perfect for his small hands. He tested it on a paper towel, then started sketching the mountains lightly.

The view never got boring, even though he'd seen it hundreds of times. Sometimes as an eagle among the clouds, and sometimes just sitting up here with his paints. The cursed ice downstairs was already forgotten as he started on the sky, using soft strokes to make silver clouds that would slowly turn pink as they dried and then slowly cycle between both.

Harry mixed his colors carefully, humming a tune he had overheard from the Frog Choir. Painting was the best thing he'd learned since forever ago - well, except for flying. But flying was different. Flying was freedom and hunting and seeing everything from way up high. Painting was... quiet. Safe. Like when Auntie Min would read him stories before bed.

He dabbed his brush in the shifting silver paint, adding highlights to the clouds. Nearly two years ago, when the strange feeling in his head had told him to pick an art to be talented at, he'd chosen painting without much hesitation. Uncle Filius had been very surprised at how quickly he learned - apparently most kids his age couldn't paint much more than stick figures.

The brush moved smoothly across the canvas as Harry added more detail to the mountains. Painting helped him forget about scary things, like what happened at the Ministry. Like how Draco still couldn't breathe right sometimes. At the last gathering, when Harry had tried to show Draco his newest drawings, the blonde boy had backed away so fast he'd bumped into his father. Then he'd started coughing again, that awful wheezing sound that made Harry's stomach hurt with guilt.

Harry shook his head, focusing back on his work. The magical paints shifted and swirled as he added the final touches - a pair of eagles soaring through the silver-pink clouds, their wings catching the golden sunlight. It wasn't perfect, but it was pretty good for someone who'd only been painting for-

The sound of clapping made Harry jump, nearly knocking over his easel. He spun around to find a girl watching him, wearing Gryffindor robes that looked a bit messy. She felt different from other second-years - more like the older students who practiced dueling after classes. Wait, wasn't she the student he saw earlier using the Fire-Making spell?

"That's amazing!" she said, walking closer to look at the painting. "I'm Charlotte Whitewood. Though I already know who you are, of course - everyone does."

"Thanks," Harry said, relaxing slightly when she smiled. "Do you like painting too?"

"Oh, I'm terrible at it," Charlotte laughed. "But I like to think I'm good at solving mysteries. Like the one about all this cursed ice appearing everywhere..." She glanced at him hopefully.

"The ice is weird," Harry agreed, carefully cleaning his brush. "But Grandpa - I mean Headmaster Dumbledore - doesn't tell me about it. He says it's 'grown-up business.'" He made a face at the last part.

Charlotte sat down cross-legged near his easel. "That must be frustrating. You live here all year round, right? So you probably see lots of interesting things, especially when you're flying."

"Sometimes," Harry said, perking up at the mention of flying. "Last week I saw Peeves putting soap in the fountain, and once I found a room full of bouncing balls! But the ice is boring. It just sits there being cold."

"Actually," Charlotte leaned forward, "the ice isn't always in the same place. It moves around the castle. Maybe next time you're flying, you could keep an eye out? Let me know if you spot any new patches?"

Harry thought about it while packing away his paints. It did sound kind of fun, like a treasure hunt but backwards. And flying was always better than walking anyway.

"Okay," he nodded. "But only if you tell me what you find out too. The professors never tell me anything because they think I'm too little."

"Deal," Charlotte grinned, holding out her hand. "Partners?"

"Partners!" Harry shook her hand. After Charlotte left, he nibbled his lip, glancing at the sunny sky. There was still plenty of time before dinner...

Transforming back into an eagle, Harry launched himself off the tower. The wind ruffled his feathers as he climbed higher, scanning for potential prey. He'd been wanting to try more experiments with his mist ability.

A small sparrow caught his eye, fluttering between the towers. Harry's wings tilted, adjusting his flight path to intercept the smaller bird. Within moments, his talons closed gently around it.

Beating his powerful wings, Harry rose higher into the sky where no one would notice. He released a thin tendril of mist around the sparrow, keeping his grip loose enough that it could still move. The high winds kept dispersing the mist too quickly though, making Harry let out an irritated screech.

He focused harder, trying to keep the mist in place like it had done with those Slytherin students. The mist seemed to respond, clinging more stubbornly around the sparrow instead of dissipating. That was interesting - he hadn't realized he could control where it went before.

Harry tried shaping the mist into a dragon, but it just sort of... gathered. Not quite what he wanted. A sharp "kree!" of surprise escaped him when he noticed the sparrow had gone completely still in his grasp.

Diving down to perch on the Dark Tower, Harry examined the motionless bird with a gentle poke of his talon. No response. Was it dead? But he'd only made it scared with the mist...

His stomach growled softly. Well, he hadn't eaten for the better part of a week, so there's no point wasting good food. Harry grasped the sparrow with his talons and opened his hooked beak to rip off a large chunk of meat before tilting his head back and swallowing it down his throat. Harry quickly finished off the small sparrow, feeling satiated.

Tossing the stripped sparrow off the Dark Tower, he looked toward Dumbledore's office before remembering his Grandpa was probably at the Ministry today. Aunt Min and Uncle Filius would be teaching too... He needed help figuring out how to shape the mist, but the new Defense teacher was still basically a stranger even now.

Movement caught his eye - three Hufflepuff girls walking along the Covered Bridge. Maybe they could help instead?

With a quick hop off his perch, he let gravity pull him into a dive. The wind whistled past his feathers as he swooped down, beating his wings back as he landed on the bridge's wooden guardrail.

The girls screamed, jumping back. One of them nearly dropped her books.

Harry let out an annoyed screech. Couldn't they tell he was friendly? He hopped down from the rail, transforming mid-jump and landing on his feet.

"I need help," he announced, not bothering to introduce himself. Everyone knew who he was anyway - he was the only kid who lived in the castle.

The girls exchanged looks before the one with bright pink hair stepped forward. "Wotcher! I'm Tonks. These are Penny and Chiara," she gestured to the blonde girl and the silver-haired one.

Harry's eyes fixed on Chiara. Something felt weird about her. She wasn't super-dangerous like the professors, but... there was something else.

"Why do you feel funny?" he asked bluntly, tilting his head. "Not funny like haha, but funny like... different."

Chiara's face went white. "I- I don't know what you mean," she stammered, taking a small step back.

"Yes you do," Harry insisted, curiosity making him bold. "You feel like two different dangerous things at once. How come?"

"Please," Chiara whispered, her hands trembling slightly. "It's just... something private. A family thing. Can we not talk about it?"

Harry scrunched up his nose, not liking that answer. But the way Chiara hunched her shoulders reminded him of how scared the other kids looked after the bad wizard attacked. He didn't want to make anyone feel that way.

"Sorry," he mumbled, kicking at the wooden planks of the bridge. "I didn't mean to be mean."

Tonks cleared her throat, glancing between them before her hair shifted to a cheerful yellow. "So what kind of help did you need, Harry?"

"I need help with a spell," Harry said, brightening up. "But it's not a normal spell. It's mine."

"Yours?" Penny asked, adjusting her books. "What do you mean?"

"I can make this mist that scares people," Harry explained proudly. "But I can't make it do shapes yet. It just goes everywhere."

Tonks raised her eyebrows. "Er, Harry... kids your age aren't supposed to do magic yet. You need a wand and everything."

"But I can!" Harry protested. "Watch!"

Before any of the girls could stop him, Harry concentrated hard. A thin wisp of grey mist curled from his fingers, making all three girls step back instinctively.

"See?" Harry said, frowning as the mist dispersed. "But I want it to make cool shapes, like dragons! Can you help?"

Mid-sentence, Harry suddenly froze, his finger shooting up to point at Tonks. "Wait a minute—your hair! It was pink before, and now it's yellow! How did you do that?"

Tonks grinned, her hair cycling through several bright colors. "I'm a Metamorphmagus - means I can change how I look whenever I want."

"That's so cool!" Harry bounced on his toes. "Can you teach me?"

"Sorry kiddo, you have to be born with it," Tonks said. "But about this mist of yours... does Professor Dumbledore know you can do this?"

"Uh huh. Grandpa said not to use it on students unless I really have to," Harry nodded. "But he didn't say anything about practicing with it!"

Penny and Chiara exchanged worried looks, but Tonks seemed intrigued. "Well, most magic needs a lot of focus and practice. Maybe try picturing exactly what you want the mist to do?"

Harry scrunched up his face in concentration. Another wisp of grey mist appeared, slightly thicker this time. He tried to make it look like a snake, but it just wobbled in the air before fading away.

"It's not working," he pouted. "How come your magic does what you want it to?"

"Years of practice," Tonks said. "Plus we use wands to help control our magic better. Maybe you should wait until you're older-"

"But I don't wanna wait!" Harry stomped his foot. "The older kids are mean sometimes and I need better ways to scare them away!"

The three girls looked at each other with concern. Penny knelt down to Harry's level. "Are students bullying you?"

"Not anymore," Harry said proudly. "They learned not to after I showed them my mist. But what if they forget? I need it to be scarier, like a big dragon made of mist!"

Chiara and Penny shared another worried look, but Tonks seemed more interested in the magic itself. Her hair shifted from pink to blue as she thought.

"Hey, squirt - before we talk about making scary dragons, how about we try something simpler?" Tonks sat down cross-legged on the bridge, patting the spot next to her. "Come here."

Harry plopped down beside her, swinging his legs through the gaps in the bridge's railing. "But simple stuff is boring."

"Not always," Tonks grinned. "Watch this." Her nose suddenly grew into a duck's bill, making Harry giggle. "See? Simple, but fun. I had to start with easy changes before I could do the cool stuff."

"I guess," Harry mumbled, kicking his feet. "So what do I gotta do?"

"Close your eyes," Tonks instructed. "Now think about something easy - like a ball. Can you picture it?"

"Uh huh. Like the bouncy one Uncle Filius lets me play with?"

"Perfect! Now try making your mist look like that."

Harry screwed up his face in concentration. A thin wisp of grey mist curled from his fingers, wobbling in the air. "It's not working right!"

"You're trying too hard," Penny said gently. "When you draw, you see the picture in your head first, right? Before you put it on paper?"

Harry nodded eagerly. "Yeah! Like when I paint eagles, I think about how I look when I'm flying."

"Try that with the mist," Penny suggested. "Just like painting, but instead of using colors, you're using the mist."

That made more sense to Harry. He closed his eyes, imagining the round bouncy ball Uncle Filius gave him. The mist felt different this time as it flowed from his fingers, gathering into a wobbly sphere about the size of his fist, though it kept trying to drift apart.

"I did it!" he shouted, jumping up in excitement. The misty ball immediately dissolved. "Aww, it broke."

"That was brilliant!" Tonks ruffled his hair. "Way better than my first try at morphing. I got stuck with purple eyebrows for a week."

"Really?" Harry giggled. "Can you show me?"

"Oh no," Tonks laughed. "That memory is staying buried forever. But how about we practice more with your mist? Maybe try making the ball again?"

 

[Evoxius]

Harry waved goodbye to Tonks, Chiara and Penny, yelling "Thanks for helping!" as they walked away. Once they were gone, he held out his palm and concentrated. The mist gathered much faster now, forming a smooth ball in just two seconds.

"Better," he muttered, studying the swirling grey sphere. "But not good enough."

The talk with Tonks and the others had helped a lot. Penny's idea about treating the mist like painting made so much sense - he just had to picture what he wanted, like drawing but with scary fog instead of paint. And Tonks was right about starting small. Even though he really wanted to make giant scary things right away, learning to make a proper ball first was probably smart.

Harry watched the misty sphere hover above his palm. It was kind of pretty, in a spooky way. The way it swirled reminded him of the moving staircases, always shifting but staying in the same basic shape. Maybe if he practiced enough, he could make the mist move like that on purpose?

His mind boggled at what he could do - if a little bit of mist could scare those mean Slytherins so much, what would a giant misty dragon do? Or maybe a nundu? He'd seen pictures of those in Grandpa's books. They were basically giant leopards that breathed disease, which was super scary. If he could make his mist look like one of those...

Still... he was getting better. The first time he made the mist, it had just gone everywhere. Now he could at least make shapes, even if they weren't very good ones yet. Maybe next time he could try making a cube, or...

His green eyes darkened and strange words appeared in his mind, making him freeze.

[Bending Arts (Firebending) - Avatar: The Last Airbender] – 100CP, 100CP left

You were born with the ability to manipulate the element of your nation, and have been trained in its use. The Bending Arts differ from element to element, but always involve a combination of physical movements designed to evoke that element, focused with the will of the Bender. Bending an element provides substantial control over it, allowing you to move it, shape it, and direct it, though the exact nature of each depends on the individual element. It should be noted, however, that you cannot actually create an element - though Firebenders can transform their body heat into a raging inferno and Airbenders can make the breath from their lungs into a gale, Waterbenders and Earthbenders must have a source of their element to Bend.

The description that followed made Harry's eyes go wide. This was just like when he got his mist and painting talent! He'd learned by now that other kids probably didn't get special abilities like this. Even Tonks, who could change how she looked, was born that way like he was with his Innate Animagus ability. This was different - this was his own special thing. It was probably a perk of being the Boy-Who-Lived…

He read the description carefully this time, not wanting to miss anything important like he had before. The mention of '100 CP' was weird - he still didn't know what CP meant, but it had to be important if it could give him such amazing things. Maybe it stood for 'Cool Powers'? That made sense to his mind.

Carefully looking over the different types of bending described, Harry felt absolutely certain that fire was the best choice. What good was air? You couldn't even see it! And water? That was just silly - anyone could splash someone with water. Earth might be useful, but you needed actual rocks and dirt around. That would be useless when he was flying as an eagle.

But fire... fire was different. The description said he could make it from his own body heat, which meant he'd always have fire available. And… and maybe he could combine it with his mist somehow? A giant dragon made of fear-mist that could also breathe real fire would be absolutely amazing!

The moment Harry accepted the new power, pain exploded through every part of him. He collapsed onto the bridge, biting back a scream. It felt like someone was drawing lines inside his whole body with burning hot needles, but a hundred times worse than when he'd scraped his knee last week.

"Ow ow ow," he whimpered, curling into a ball. The burning started in his belly, spreading out like someone was drawing a map with fire under his skin. It went everywhere - up his back, down his legs, through his arms, even into his fingers and toes. His head felt funny too, like something hot was drawing lines inside his skull.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus past the pain. He could feel the burning paths connecting to each other, making a huge web through his whole body. Some spots, where the lines crossed, felt extra thick and warm - like having tiny suns inside him. The biggest one was in his belly, right where the burning had started.

"It's like... like a tree," he muttered through clenched teeth. "But inside out."

The main trunk was in his middle, with big branches going up and down. Smaller branches spread everywhere else, with the tiniest ones reaching all the way to his fingertips and toes. He could feel special paths leading to his palms and the bottoms of his feet, and even one that went right to the middle of his forehead.

Just when Harry thought he couldn't take anymore, the burning changed. Now it felt warm and nice, like drinking hot chocolate after flying in the cold. The paths that had hurt so much now felt... right. Like they'd always been there, just waiting to wake up.

"Wicked," Harry whispered, carefully sitting up. His whole body felt different - stronger, but not just in his muscles. It was like someone had taken all his insides and rearranged them to work better. He could feel the energy flowing through all those new paths, gathering in the spots where they crossed.

Harry quickly undid the clasp of his outer robe, letting it fall around him as he pulled up his shirt. His skin looked normal, but something felt different underneath. Pressing his fingers against his stomach, he could feel that his muscles were harder, more defined. Not big and bulky like the seventh-year students who practiced dueling, but definitely stronger than before.

The warm paths seemed to start right where his fingers were touching, spreading out like a spider web through his whole body. When he focused on them, they felt like... like magic, but different. Not the cold tingly feeling he got when using his mist, or the fuzzy warmth of transforming into an eagle. This was more like having tiny lightning bolts under his skin, but friendly ones that wanted to help him.

He remembered reading about blood vessels in one of Madam Pomfrey's books when he was bored - these vessels felt similar, but instead of blood they carried... energy? Power? Whatever it was, it made him feel stronger, more balanced. Like his body was a perfectly tuned instrument instead of just muscles and bones thrown together.

Taking an experimental jump, his eyes widened when he went higher than ever before. He did a little spin in mid-air, amazed at how natural it felt. His human body just knew exactly how to move, like how he instinctively knew how to use his wings and talons in eagle form.

This new flexibility and strength could be really useful if he had to fight. If he could move like this while using his mist ability, he'd be much harder to catch. And once he figured out how to use fire...

Harry grinned, imagining himself doing cool flips while shooting flames and scary mist at anyone who tried to hurt him. But first, he needed to practice. A lot. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he took a deep breath and settled into a stance that somehow felt right - feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent. His body just knew this was how it should be, like how he instinctively knew how to fly as an eagle.

He punched forward hesitantly, but nothing happened. Harry frowned as he tried another punch. Something wasn't quite right. The energy was there, pooling in his core like a warm lake, but when he tried to direct it through those new pathways to his hands, it just... meandered. Like trying to pour honey uphill. He could feel it wanting to move, trying to rush through those channels under his skin, but there was no force behind it.

"It's like..." Harry muttered, focusing on the sensation, "like when the castle fountains got blocked with leaves. The water was there, but it couldn't flow properly."

He closed his eyes, concentrating on that warm energy in his core. The paths were there, clearly mapped through his body. The energy was there too, ready to be used. But something was missing - some kind of push to get it moving fast enough to become fire.

After a few more attempts, Harry sat down cross-legged on the bridge to think. Any flames coming out were tiny at most, and it somehow like when Aunt Min tried painting that one time. She'd gotten all the colors right, but the painting looked... empty. Not alive like his paintings were. Was that what was happening here?

The knowledge bubbled up again, clearer this time. Firebending needed emotional fuel - either the explosive force of rage and hatred, or the steady burn of passion and drive. Harry considered this carefully. Rage would be easier, maybe. He had plenty to be angry about - those mean Slytherins, the Death Eater who hurt Draco, being surrounded by people stronger than him…

But anger and hate sounded like what dark wizards used. Grandpa always said dark wizards let their hate control them, and Harry definitely didn't want that. But what was he passionate about?

Well, that was easy - painting! Nothing made him happier than sitting with his easel, watching his imagination come to life on the canvas.

Harry stood up, remembering how it felt to finish a really good painting. The joy of creating something beautiful, of making exactly what he pictured in his head. He took that feeling, let it fill him up like sunshine, and punched forward.

A stream of orange-red flames burst from his fist, way bigger than before! Harry laughed in delight, immediately trying again. This time he managed to make the flames dance a little before they disappeared.

"This is so cool!" he exclaimed to no one in particular, throwing more fire punches. Each one came easier than the last as he noticed something interesting - the energy only flowed when he moved. Standing still made the power stagnate, but every punch or kick helped guide it along those special paths under his skin.

After a particularly good punch, Harry finally felt it - the energy flowing smoothly from his core, through his arm, and right to that special spot in his palm. It felt natural, like water flowing downhill instead of being pushed.

But after about two minutes of constant practice, Harry had to stop. His arms felt like jelly and he was breathing hard, even though his regular magic felt completely fine. The warm energy pool in his core that had felt so full before was now nearly empty.

Drawing one last deep breath, Harry thrust out his palm. A long burst of orange-red flames shot towards the open sky, way stronger than his previous attempts. The fire felt warm and alive, powered by his passion of creation.

"I should show Grandpa!" Harry exclaimed, bouncing on his toes despite his tired arms. He transformed into his eagle form and took off, riding the warm afternoon thermals up to the Headmaster's Tower.

With a loud screech of greeting, Harry swooped through the open window and landed next to Fawkes on his golden perch. The phoenix trilled back a gentle melody that made Harry's tired muscles feel better instantly. He bobbed his feathered head at Fawkes and made eagle sounds back, pretending they were having a proper conversation.

After a moment, Harry hopped off the perch and changed back to human form, grinning up at Dumbledore who was watching him with twinkling eyes from behind his desk.

"Grandpa! Grandpa! Look what I can do now!" Harry took a quick stance, focusing on his passion for painting, and punched forward. A small burst of flames shot from his fist, carefully aimed away from any of the delicate silver instruments scattered around the office.

"And not just that! I was just at the Covered Bridge and met these three Hufflepuff girls! They helped me with my mist spell - oh! Don't worry, I didn't use it on anyone!" Harry added quickly, seeing Dumbledore's expression change. "I just wanted to practice making shapes with it. Look!"

Harry held up his palm, concentrating for a moment. A ball of grey mist formed quickly, hovering steadily above his hand. "See? I can control it better now! Soon I'll be able to make it look like a dragon or maybe even a nundu! That would be so cool!"

He looked up, ready to tell Grandpa about his plans for combining fire and mist, but stopped short when he saw Dumbledore's shocked expression, mouth slightly open as he stared at Harry's palm.

"Um... is everything okay, Grandpa?"

"Harry," Dumbledore said slowly, standing up from behind his desk. "Where did you learn to create fire?"

Harry smiled widely, still excited. "It just happened! Like my mist and painting! The words showed up in my head and told me about fire-bending and stuff!"

"Words appeared in your head?" Dumbledore walked around his desk, kneeling down to Harry's level. "Like when you learned to create mist?"

"Uh huh! It said something about... um... Cool Powers? And elements and stuff. But fire was the coolest one!" Harry demonstrated with another small flame burst from his palm. "See? And it doesn't even need a wand!"

Dumbledore gently took Harry's hands in his own, examining them carefully. "Does it hurt when you make the fire?"

"Nope! Well, it hurt really bad at first, like burning lines inside me. But now it feels nice and warm!" Harry pulled one hand free to pat his stomach. "The power comes from here, and goes through special paths to my hands and feet!"

"Fascinating," Dumbledore murmured. "And you say this knowledge simply appeared in your mind? Like with your mist ability?"

"Yeah! And my painting too!" Harry nodded enthusiastically. "The words tell me how to do stuff, and then my body just knows how! Like how I know how to fly when I'm an eagle!"

"Harry," Dumbledore said gently, "would you mind looking into my eyes and thinking about when these words appeared? It might help me understand better."

Harry nodded, meeting his Grandpa's bright blue eyes. They always reminded him of sunny days when he could fly really high. He thought hard about the burning lines under his skin and the strange words that had popped into his head.

After a few seconds, Dumbledore sat back on his heels with a puzzled look. "Most peculiar," he muttered, almost like he'd forgotten Harry was there. "No trace of outside influence, no magical residue, not even a hint of how... It's as if the magic simply manifested from nowhere, perfectly formed..."

"Is that bad?" Harry asked, suddenly worried. Had he done something wrong?

"No, not at all," Dumbledore said quickly, his eyes refocusing on Harry. "It's rather remarkable, actually. Though perhaps we should be more careful about when and where you practice your new abilities?"

"But I was careful!" Harry protested. "I made sure no one was around before making the fire, and I only showed the mist to Tonks and her friends 'cause they were helping me learn to control it better!"

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose slightly. "Nymphadora Tonks? Interesting choice of tutor."

"She can change how she looks!" Harry revealed. "Her hair went all different colors and everything! But she said I can't learn that 'cause you have to be born with it." He scrunched up his nose. "That's not fair."

"That's not entirely accurate," Dumbledore said, still looking thoughtful. "Anyone can learn to change their appearance with human transfiguration. It just takes quite a bit of practice and study."

"Really?" Harry whispered. "So I could make my hair different colors too?"

"When you're older, yes." Dumbledore blinked, seeming to come back from his thoughts. "Harry, you mentioned this happened with your painting as well? What exactly occurred then?"

"Oh! Well..." Harry plopped down cross-legged on the floor. "I was really sad about what happened at the Ministry with the bad wizard, and then the words showed up in my head. They asked me to pick what kind of art I wanted to be good at. And I picked painting 'cause it looked fun!"

Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair. "And these words, they were similar to what you saw today?"

"Kind of. They both had the CP thing, but the painting one was different. It said something about being really really good at art, like only once every hundred years good!" Harry beamed proudly. "That's why my paintings are so pretty now."

"Indeed they are," Dumbledore agreed, but his blue eyes had that far-away look again. "Most remarkable..."

"Well, Harry," Dumbledore said, adjusting his half-moon spectacles, "would you promise me something?"

Harry nodded eagerly. He liked making promises to Grandpa - it made him feel grown up.

"Next time these special words appear in your head, come tell me right away. Even if it's during the night or when I'm busy. It's very important."

"But why?" Harry asked, fiddling with the hem of his robes. "Is it bad? The words always give me cool things!"

"No, not bad at all," Dumbledore smiled warmly. "Think of it like... getting a new toy. It's exciting, but sometimes we need to make sure the toy is safe to play with first."

Harry scrunched up his nose. "Like when Uncle Filius checks my painting supplies for dangerous stuff?"

"Exactly like that," Dumbledore reached out to ruffle Harry's messy black hair. "I just want to make sure you're safe. Can you do that for me?"

"Okay!" Harry jumped up, ready to show off more fire tricks, but Dumbledore held up a gentle hand.

"Perhaps we should save the fire practice for tomorrow? When you're less tired?"

Harry wanted to argue, but a big yawn escaped instead. Making fire was harder work than it looked. "Can we practice outside? I wanna try making bigger flames!"

"We'll see," Dumbledore chuckled. "For now, I believe it's almost dinner time. Shall we head down to the Great Hall?"

 

[Evoxius]

3rd​ of June, 1986.

Harry perched on the railing of the Astronomy Tower in his human form, legs swinging as he watched Charlotte Whitewood examine another patch of strange ice that had appeared overnight.

"It's getting bigger," he complained, pointing at how the ice was slowly spreading across the floor. "Can't reach me when I'm flying, but it's super annoying when I want to paint up here!"

Charlotte nodded absently, scribbling something in her notebook. "Thanks for keeping an eye out this past month, Harry. You've been a big help."

Harry beamed at the praise, then brightened further as he spotted a familiar redhead coming up the stairs. "Hi Bill!"

Bill Weasley waved back with an easy smile. "Alright there, Harry?"

"Are you guys gonna make the ice go away?" Harry asked hopefully, swinging his feet faster.

Bill shook his head. "Not exactly. We've got something else to take care of, but it's meant to be a secret."

"Bill," Charlotte interrupted, closing her notebook. "Maybe we should bring Harry along? He could watch from above in his eagle form. The ice can't trap him when he's flying."

"I don't know..." Bill frowned, running a hand through his long hair. "We don't know what we'll find in that place. It could be dangerous."

"But Harry can just fly away if there's trouble, right?" Charlotte pressed. "And having someone keep watch would be smart."

Bill studied Harry for a long moment, then slowly nodded. "I suppose you have a point..."

"What are you talking about?" Harry bounced excitedly on the railing. "What place?"

Charlotte turned to him with a serious expression. "We found it, Harry - the Cursed Vault that's making all this ice appear. We're going to try to open it and stop the curse." Under her breath, she added, "And maybe finally find out what happened to Jacob..."

Harry's first thought was that he should probably tell Aunt Min about this. But... this sounded like a real adventure! And he was much stronger now with his fire and mist powers. Besides, if his instincts warned him someone was too dangerous, he could just fly away and get one of the professors, since Grandpa was away 'researching something very important'.

"I want to help!" Harry declared, hopping down from the railing. "When do we go?"

Charlotte grinned. "Right now, actually. We've got everything ready."

Harry transformed into his eagle form with a quiet pop and fluttered over to Charlotte's shoulder, making her stumble slightly.

"Oof! A bit of warning next time?" she laughed, adjusting to his weight. "You're heavier than you look!"

They made their way down towards the fifth floor, Bill leading the way with his wand lit. As they reached the sixth floor staircase, a girl in Slytherin robes stepped out from behind a suit of armor.

"Well, well. If it isn't the curse-breaker wannabe," the girl sneered, flicking her brown hair. "And what's this? Got yourself a pet bird now, Whitewood? Trying to replace your missing brother with feathered friends?"

Charlotte's face flushed red. "Shut it, Merula. Don't you have better things to do? Like pretending you know something about Jacob when you clearly don't?"

"At least I'm not dragging random animals around the castle," Merula shot back, eyeing the eagle with disdain. "What's next, going to start talking to it about your pathetic curse theories?"

Charlotte's lips curled into a small smile. "You might want to look closer at that 'random animal', Merula. Or did you drink a Forgetfulness Potion? Who else likes to fly around the castle?"

Bill coughed quietly, clearly trying not to laugh as Merula squinted at Harry. Her eyes widened suddenly and she took a step back.

"I... I have better things to do than waste time with you lot," Merula stammered, turning on her heel. As she hurried away, she called back, "Have fun with your bird club, Whitewood!"

"Ugh, she's such a twit," Charlotte grumbled once Merula was gone. "Can't even recognize Harry Potter when he's right in front of her. Come on, we're almost there."

"Wait up!" a cheerful voice called from behind them. Penny Haywood jogged over, waving her hand at them. "What are you all doing here?"

Harry flapped his wings excitedly on Charlotte's shoulder, making a happy eagle sound. He liked Penny - she'd helped him learn to control his mist better last month.

"Hi Penny!" Charlotte beamed. "We were just heading to... um..."

"The Cursed Vault," Bill finished with a shrug. "No point hiding it, she'll find out anyway."

Penny's eyes lit up. "You found it? The one making all the ice appear?" She glanced at Harry perched on Charlotte's shoulder. "But why is Harry with you?"

"He's going to be our lookout," Charlotte explained. "The ice can't trap him when he's flying, so he can warn us if anything goes wrong."

"Absolutely not!" Penny planted her hands on her hips. "He's five years old! You can't take him somewhere that dangerous!"

"But he'll be perfectly safe up in the air," Charlotte argued. "And we need someone to watch our backs."

"He's a child," Penny insisted. "What if something happens? What would Professor McGonagall say?"

Harry let out an indignant screech. He wasn't some baby who needed protecting! He could make scary mist and shoot fire now!

"Look," Bill said carefully, "I know it seems risky, but Harry's smarter than most kids his age. And he really will be safer than any of us - he can fly away the moment there's trouble."

Penny frowned, clearly torn. "Then I'm coming too. Someone needs to keep an eye on all of you."

"The more the merrier?" Charlotte offered with a hopeful smile.

"Fine," Penny sighed. "But if anything happens to Harry, I'm telling Professor McGonagall exactly whose idea this was."

Harry puffed up his feathers proudly as they made their way to the Icy Corridor. The three students pulled out their wands, casting "Incendio!" at the patches of ice blocking their path. The ice melted slowly, creating puddles on the stone floor.

"See that, Harry?" Charlotte pointed at how the ice seemed to resist the spell slightly before melting. "This cursed ice is really weird. It learns to fight back against spells we use too much. We used to be able to break it with Flipendo, but that stopped working."

Harry made a curious chirping sound from her shoulder.

"Oh, and don't touch it!" Charlotte added quickly. "The ice makes people become very confused. Makes their memories all funny too."

They kept moving forward, melting ice as they went. After what felt like forever to Harry, they stopped in front of a plain stone wall.

Charlotte raised her wand. "Revelio!"

The wall disappeared, showing misty stairs leading upward. The fog was so thick Harry could barely see through it.

"Harry should probably start flying now," Penny said, biting her lip. "Just to be safe."

When the others nodded, Harry took off from Charlotte's shoulder. Flying in such a tight space wasn't easy - he had to keep circling back and forth to stay airborne. His new stronger body helped a lot though. Before the firebending, his wings would have gotten tired much faster.

They climbed the stairs and exited the mist straight into another corridor. Everyone groaned at the sight of more ice. The students raised their wands again.

"Incendio!" Three voices called out together. Nothing happened.

"Merlin's saggy pants!" Charlotte burst out. "It can't be..."

"The ice is immune to the Fire-Making Spell now," Bill sighed deeply. "Either of you know any stronger fire spells?"

Both girls shook their heads.

Harry flew down in front of them, changing back to human form with a big grin. "I can do it!"

Charlotte and Bill exchanged skeptical looks while Penny gave him a gentle smile. "That's sweet Harry, but your mist spell won't help here. We need real fire to melt this ice."

"No, no! Watch!" Harry took a quick stance, remembering how it felt to paint something really pretty, and punched forward. A burst of orange flames shot from his fist, much bigger than the students' Incendio spells had been.

The ice actually sizzled where his flames hit it, starting to melt at the edges.

"Bloody hell!" Bill yelped, jumping back. "Since when can you do that?"

"Language!" Penny scolded automatically, but she was staring at Harry with wide eyes.

"Since last month!" Harry beamed proudly. "It's called firebending! I can make lots of fire without a wand!" He demonstrated with another flame punch, melting more ice.

"Not the Boy-Who-Lived for nothing, I guess," Charlotte muttered, watching the ice melt faster than any spell they'd tried.

Harry grinned and bounced on his toes. "Watch this!" He jumped up, spinning in mid-air to kick downward. A wave of orange flames swept across the floor, clearing a path through the cursed ice.

"That's incredible," Bill said, scratching his head. "But why is it working better than our spells? Fire is fire, isn't it? The cursed ice adapted to resist Incendio..."

"Maybe because it's wandless?" Penny suggested, but she didn't sound convinced.

They made their way down the cleared corridor, Harry occasionally sending out bursts of flame to melt any ice blocking their path. Soon they reached a massive door covered in frost, with an enormous snowflake pattern carved into its surface.

"Here goes!" Harry took a deep breath and leaped up, kicking out toward the door. A stream of fire shot from his foot, melting the ice completely. The door swung open with a loud creak.

Before anyone could look inside, two huge suits of armor burst through the doorway. Ice covered their metal bodies, and they drew sharp-looking swords out of worn leather sheaths.

"Everyone back!" Charlotte shouted, raising her wand. "Start casting! Flipendo!"

Harry stepped back carefully, eyeing the armored constructs. His instincts told they were more powerful than him, and those swords looked really sharp. If one of them managed to hit him, it would be really bad. Better to stay away and let the older kids handle it.

"Reducto!" Bill called out, blue light crashing into one suit's chest and creating a big dent.

"Immobulus!" Penny's spell hit the other construct's leg, slowing it briefly.

Charlotte kept shouting spells and directions, but the ice-covered knights were getting closer. One swung its sword at Bill, who barely managed to dodge. The other advanced on Penny and Charlotte, forcing them back step by step.

"They're too strong together!" Charlotte yelled, casting another Flipendo that just bounced off the icy armor. "We need to-"

A horrible sound of metal striking flesh cut through the air. Bill let out a cry of pain as one of the swords caught his shoulder, sending him crashing to the floor. The knight raised its weapon again, ready to strike.

"No!" Charlotte screamed. "Arresto Momentum!"

The sword froze mid-swing, but Harry could tell the spell wouldn't hold long. His heart was beating really fast as he watched from the back of the group. His special sense was screaming that these things could kill him if he got too close.

But seeing Bill on the ground, bleeding... it reminded Harry of Draco at the Ministry. How the other boy had gotten hurt because of him, and now had that awful cough that wouldn't go away…

No. He wouldn't let someone else get hurt when he could do something about it.

Harry transformed into his eagle form and shot upward, using his new stronger muscles to climb fast. Right above the knight threatening Bill, he changed back to human. For a split second he hung in the air, then brought his leg down in a powerful kick. Fire exploded from his foot, way bigger than before - maybe because he was so scared and angry at the same time.

The flames crashed into the suit of armor. Harry was already transforming back to eagle form, wings spreading to carry him away from danger. He landed next to Penny and changed human again, watching as the ice melted off the first knight. Without the cursed ice covering it, the armor fell apart with a loud clatter.

"Harry, that was brilliant!" Charlotte shouted. "Quick, we need you to do it again! Penny, help me slow the other one down!"

"Immobulus!"

"Impedimenta!"

The second knight stumbled as both spells hit it at once, giving Harry the opening he needed.

Harry took a deep breath and jumped high, flames trailing from his hands as he spun through the air. This time he aimed both palms at the knight's chest, letting his fire pour out in a massive burst. The ice coating the armor melted instantly, steam hissing into the air. Like its partner, the second suit of armor crashed to the ground in pieces.

"Bill!" Penny rushed over to where the older boy lay clutching his shoulder. "How bad is it?"

"Not too deep," Bill winced, letting her examine the cut. "But it stings something fierce."

"I can fix this," Penny pulled out a small green bottle from her robes. "It's a Wiggenweld potion - should stop the bleeding at least."

Harry bounced from foot to foot nearby, still buzzing with leftover energy from the fight. "Are you gonna be okay? Those knights were really dangerous!"

"Thanks to you, mate," Bill managed a smile despite the pain. "That was some impressive flying and fire work."

"Drink this," Penny held the green bottle to Bill's lips. "All of it."

Bill gulped down the potion, making a face at the taste. After a few seconds, the cut on his shoulder started closing up. "Much better. Thanks Penny."

"Can we go in now?" Harry asked, peering through the doorway.

Charlotte nodded, but held up her hand. "Everyone stay close together. We don't know what else might be in there."

They walked into the vault carefully. Harry looked around, a bit disappointed. It was just a small round room with stone walls. He'd expected something more... impressive. There wasn't even any ice, which seemed weird for a place called the Vault of Ice.

Four suits of armor stood in little spaces in the walls. Everyone froze when they saw them, but these knights didn't move at all. They just stood there, looking dusty and old.

"Look!" Charlotte suddenly ran forward, pointing at something weird growing out of the middle of the floor. It was glowing golden, like the light of the sun. Floating above it was a broken wand and an old notebook with torn pages.

Charlotte's face went white. "That's... that's Jacob's wand! And his notebook!" She reached for them with shaking hands. "He was here. He really did find the vault..."

"Who's Jacob?" Harry whispered to Penny while Charlotte carefully picked up the broken wand.

"Her brother," Penny whispered back. "He mysteriously disappeared after he was expelled from Hogwarts because of the Cursed Vaults. Nobody knows what happened to him."

Harry opened his mouth to ask another question, but suddenly froze as his green eyes darkened. At first, his heart leapt with excitement - was he going to get another cool spell like his firebending or fear-mist? But as he actually read what was being offered, his stomach turned unpleasantly.

[Zombie Physiology - Marvel Zombies] – Free, 200CP left

You are a zombie. That comes with its benefits and its downsides. You retain your intellect and have a choice of what kind of zombie you are. There are a lot of variants, but we're cutting it down to just the originals for brevity's sake. The classic Marvel Zombies. The disciples of the Hunger Gospel, you could say. You're a bona fide zombie, save for your intelligence. While you're necrotic and always hungry now, you're now functionally immortal. You don't even feel pain anymore (save for some very rare, very unusual cases). Being undead makes it so that you can't age anymore. Most wounds, including dismemberment and decapitation aren't lethal anymore - it'd take the destruction of your brain to do you in for real. Breathing isn't much of an issue, either. The only problem is that you're really, really hungry all the time. Also your lips have disappeared and you've got a very toothy, skull-like face now. All the better to eat with.

"Son of a banshee," Harry muttered under his breath, having picked up the phrase from older students. His stomach felt all twisty as he read about becoming a zombie. Being able to survive getting hurt sounded kind of cool, but... no lips? And being hungry all the time?

He remembered how Stupid Snape had scared him with stories about Inferi in the dungeons. Even though Aunt Min had yelled at Snape and promised there weren't any dark creatures in the castle, Harry still had nightmares sometimes about rotting hands grabbing him in the dark.

Plus, zombies were gross! They were all falling apart and smelly, like those pictures in the Defense Against the Dark Arts books. And eating people? Yuck! Even when he was an eagle and caught prey on the rare occasion he was hungry, he tried to be quick about it. He didn't want to be some scary monster that made other kids have nightmares.

And what would Grandpa say if Harry turned into a zombie? Or Aunt Min and Uncle Filius? They'd be so disappointed. He was going to be a proper wizard, with cool fire powers and scary mist - not some brain-eating creature from those horror stories the older students whispered about!

No way was he accepting this one. The moment Harry firmly decided to reject the offer, he felt it fade away like smoke in the wind, and he let out a relieved breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Harry turned his attention back to the others. They were huddled around Jacob's notebook, carefully examining the torn pages.

"Look at these notes," Bill was saying, pointing at something Harry couldn't see. "These must be clues about the other Vaults. We'll need to study them carefully..."

 

[Evoxius]

Harry Potter starts with 3 free rolls.

Every 4000 6000 8000 words he gains 100cp, and the Celestial Grimoire is triggered. Perks can be rejected. This is done this way because I've noticed that doing it every 1000 or 2000 words is way too fast, and things go out of control in terms of power balance. I also have plans to increase the number of words needed even more in the future if I feel it is needed.

Current word total: 74944
Next opportunity: 82000
Current cp: 50

Since the Grimoire was granted to him at a young age, rather than to someone with an already mature personality, the perks given will influence his personality. For example, Ironclaw Cunning has a major effect on him because a toddler is not meant to possess such knowledge/instincts at their age. This can be seen in chapter 2 with how he acts.

---

Perks:

1. Harry can tell whether he can defeat someone or not, will never underestimate opponents, and knows when to back off. Moderately increases Battle IQ. (Ironclaw Cunning - MtG Homelands)
2. Harry can transform into a Golden Eagle. (Animagus - Harry Potter)
3. Harry can survive on very little food. One or two good meals a week is enough. (Nutrition - The Witcher Novels)
4. Harry can convert magical energy into a panic-inducing fog that can cause people to see images of their phobia if it's thick enough. (Mist: Phobia - Final Fantasy IX)
   1. Discovered: When cast upon fear-feeding spiritual entities, there's a chance for a recursive feedback loop.
   2. Discovered: Mist seems to be made out of a combination of magical energy and the power of the soul.
   3. Discovered: Deep emotional resonance can darken the mist and make it more potent. Rare chance, requires Harry to really lose himself in fear.
5. Harry has world-class Painting Talent. Moderately increases ease of learning, using and casting magical spells and abilities related to the act of Painting/Drawing. (Once Every Century - Fate/Legends - Empires of Antiquity)
6. Harry has chi pathways, minorly increased strength, agility and balance, and can bend fire. Instinctual knowledge will guide him on how to train the common firebending abilities. (Bending Arts (Firebending) - Avatar: The Last Airbender)
   1. Discovered: Harry chose passion for painting as his source for firebending. This gives him greater control and stability. If he were to power it with anger, it becomes more powerful but less controllable.
   2. Discovered: Pooling chi at exit points (hands, feet) can solidify fire and give it concussive force.
   3. Discovered: The Po Soul has refined his chi paths, allowing for a smooth and controlled flow of chi at all times, thus causing blue flames to be born. NEW: The Po Soul is Yin. The Yin-refined chi paths balance out the Yang nature of fire to form a stronger whole: blue flames.
   4. Discovered: Through understanding multiple philosophical frameworks simultaneously, Harry can create a perfect sphere of silver-white quintessential flame that neither consumes chi nor produces shadow. Its true properties are yet unknown.
      1. NIGREDO Phase: Through letting the unstable silver-white flame sphere naturally dissipate, a black sphere is formed that can take in energy (magic included) and burn it back to its origin.
      2. ALBEDO Phase: Unknown how to achieve
      3. CITRINITAS Phase: Unknown how to achieve
      4. RUBEDO Phase: Unknown how to achieve
      5. ??? Phase: Unknown how to achieve or whether there are further phases.
7. Harry has a soul-bound journal that he can store in his soul and only he can read. It will write down his adventures, and occasionally point out new adventures and vital clues on where to go next. (The Hero's Journey - A Mage Of Sorothustra)
   1. Enchantments applied to the Hero's Journal from the Perk (Enchanted Gear - The Elder Scrolls: Dovah):
      1. Poison Resistance 100%
      2. Disease Resistance 100%
      3. Magic Resistance 20%
      4. Fortify Skill in Alchemy by 50%
   2. Discovered: The Hun Soul has evolved the Hero's Journal beyond a mere enchanted item into an innate treasure capable of giving him the hints directly instead of merely writing it down. Innate Treasure lives in his Hun Soul, though a representation can be manifested into the physical world.
   3. Discovered: Innate Treasure Hero's Journal has merged the additional enchantments from the Enchanted Gear perk directly into his Hun and Po souls, thus becoming intrinsically part of his being.
8. Harry can devour dragon hearts to gain new powers/abilities based on whose heart he consumes. (Devouring the Heart - Elden Ring - Limgrave)
9. Harry has enhanced intelligence and perfect memory (non-retroactive), which gives him a 3X learning speed. (Depths of the Mind - Magic The Gathering - Iconics)
   1. All talents have been enhanced by 1.1X (Natural Talent - Fist of the North Star)
10. Harry's soul has been transformed into two parts. Hun (ethereal/yang) and Po (dense/yin). The Hun is tied to the mind and exists independently of the body. The Po is tied to the body. (Three Hun and Seven Po - Chinese Mythology)
    1. Hun Soul means Harry's mind is no longer affected by the ills and failings of his body. Thus Harry will not be mentally impaired by hunger, pain and such things.
    2. Po Soul means Harry's body is now maintaining his physical vessel in its prime condition, barring interference of outside forces. Thus he does not need to exercise to maintain his body at the same level.
11. Harry gets an Elixir of Life every ten years that returns someone to the prime of their life, and making them immune to the passing of time and disease. Next Elixir: 1997 August
    1. First Elixir of Life was given to Albus Dumbledore on August 1987. He accepts the potion after the initial rejection to analyse it together with Nicolas Flamel.
12. Harry can learn to understand, speak and read any language if he has heard people speak and seen its words in hours. If someone speaks to him in an unknown language, he can guess the general meaning. He can easily create his own language or decryption if he wants to. (Language Comprehension - Mushoku Tensei)
    1. Learned languages: English, French, Latin, Ancient Greek, Chinese
    2. Discovered: Harry doesn't just learn languages, but absorbs their entire cultural worldviews and philosophical frameworks simultaneously, allowing him to understand concepts from multiple perspectives at once.
13. Harry now has access to the collective faith from people that have directed their hopes and praise towards his person (Boy-Who-Lived). His Hun Soul acts as a lens to make it into divine energy, and his Po Soul anchors him so he doesn't lose himself in the faith.
    1. Harry can unleash a wave of divine energy that heals himself and those nearby (Soothing Sunlight - Dark Souls: Covenants)

 

[Evoxius]

Harry shuffled his feet and peered around the others at the notebook. He couldn't read most of the big words anyway, and now that the excitement was over, he was getting antsy.

"Can we go see if the ice is gone now?" he asked, tugging at Charlotte's sleeve. "Please?"

Bill chuckled and carefully tucked the notebook away. "Good thinking, Harry. We should check if breaking the vault actually worked."

They made their way back through the vault entrance, Harry skipping ahead eagerly. The corridor outside was completely clear - not a single patch of ice remained where before it had covered almost everything.

"It worked!" Penny clapped her hands together. "Look, even the frost on the walls is gone!"

They hurried down the misty stairs and through the Icy Corridor, finding every trace of cursed ice had vanished as if it had never been there.

"We did it!" Charlotte whooped, throwing her arms around Harry and lifting him off his feet in a spin. "And it's all thanks to our tiny fire wizard here! Without you, those knights would've carved us up like Christmas turkeys!"

Harry giggled as she set him down, pleased with the praise. "It was fun! Except for when Bill got hurt. That was scary."

"Speaking of which," Penny crossed her arms, "we should get that shoulder looked at properly, Bill. The potion helped, but Madam Pomfrey should still check it."

Bill nodded, then ruffled Harry's messy hair. "Thanks again, mate. You really saved our skins back there."

"No problem! Thank you all for letting me help!" Harry looked at them with big wide green eyes. "If you find more Vaults, can I come too? I promise I'll be super careful!"

Charlotte laughed and shared a look with the others. "We'll see, little hero. But first we need to figure out what these notes mean."

After they parted ways, Harry transformed into his eagle form with a quiet pop. His wings spread wide as he took off, soaring through the castle corridors. Grandpa had told him to come straight away whenever those special words showed up in his head, and Harry wasn't about to forget.

He swooped through the Grand Staircase, letting out sharp cries that made several students jump. One Ravenclaw even dropped his book bag, papers scattering everywhere. Harry let out what could only be described as an eagle's laugh before flying out through the castle's main doors.

The afternoon sun warmed his feathers as he circled up to the Headmaster's Tower. Finding the window open as usual, Harry glided in and landed on the back of his favorite chair. The office was empty, but moments later a burst of flames announced the arrival of Fawkes and Grandpa.

Harry changed back to human form so fast he almost fell off the chair. "Grandpa! Guess what? All the cursed ice is gone! Every single bit!"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he settled behind his desk. "Is that so? And would you happen to know anything about how that came to be?"

"Well..." Harry squirmed a bit in his seat. "Me and Charlotte and Bill and Penny found this ice vault thing, and there were these scary knights, but I helped beat them with my fire! And then we found a broken wand and some papers and when we left all the ice was gone!"

"Also," Harry added, bouncing slightly in his seat, "those special words showed up in my head again! But don't worry, I said no 'cause it wanted to make me all gross like a zombie!"

"I see," Dumbledore said, though his eyes had lost their usual twinkle. "And this adventure you mentioned - were you hurt at all?"

Harry shook his head quickly. "Nope! Bill got a cut from one of the ice knights, but Penny had this green potion that fixed him up. I was super careful and stayed flying most of the time. Only came down when I needed to use my fire to help!"

"That's... good," Dumbledore said distractedly, clearly more concerned about something else. He leaned forward in his chair. "Harry, about these words - I need you to tell me exactly what they said. Try to remember every detail."

"Well..." Harry swung his legs, looking up at the ceiling. "It was called... Zombie Phy-si-ol-ogy from Marvel Zombies. And it said I could pick what kind of zombie I wanted to be, but only from the original ones. Something about being a... disciple of Hunger Gospel?"

Harry wrinkled his nose. "It said I'd keep my brain working right, but I'd be all dead and gross. And I wouldn't feel pain anymore, which sounded kind of cool I guess. But then it said I couldn't die unless someone smashed my head, and even if someone cut off my arms or head, I'd be fine!"

He shuddered. "But the worst part was that it said I'd be super hungry ALL the time, and my face would look like a skull 'cause my lips would disappear! That's so yucky! And it was free, but I still said no 'cause I don't want to be a monster."

Dumbledore knelt in front of Harry's chair, his blue eyes serious behind his half-moon glasses. "Harry, if those special words ever offer you something like that again - something that would change what you are in such a manner - I want you to reject it right away. It might even make you lose your magic. No more mist, no more fire, and no more special painting magic in the future. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

Harry's breath caught in his throat as he imagined not being able to control his fear mist anymore, create warm flames when he was cold or learning painting magic. Small tears welled up in his green eyes as he shook his head frantically. "No! I don't want to lose my magic!"

"Come here," Dumbledore opened his arms, and Harry practically jumped into the hug, sniffling slightly. "You did very, very well rejecting that offer. I'm proud of you."

After a long moment, Dumbledore let out a deep sigh and gently ended the hug. "Harry, I think it's time I taught you something. Something very important."

Harry perked up immediately, tears forgotten. "What is it? Is it a spell?"

"Not exactly," Dumbledore smiled. "It's called Occlumency."

"Ock-lu... what?" Harry scrunched up his face, trying to wrap his tongue around the strange word. "What's that?"

"It's a way to protect your mind," Dumbledore explained, settling back in his chair. "Like building a wall around your thoughts to keep them safe."

Harry's eyes went wide. "Can people look at my thoughts? Is that how you always know when I sneak out to the astronomy tower after curfew?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "No, that's because the portraits report to me. But yes, there are wizards who can look into other people's minds if they try hard enough."

"That's not fair!" Harry crossed his arms with a pout. "They shouldn't be allowed to peek at my thoughts. Those are mine!"

"Exactly right," Dumbledore nodded. "That's why I want to teach you how to keep your thoughts private. Especially with these special words that keep appearing in your head. We need to make sure no one else can see them."

"Will it help keep the zombie words away too?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said. "At the very least, it will help you understand your own mind better. Would you like to learn?"

Harry nodded eagerly. Any new magic was exciting, even if it wasn't as cool as throwing fireballs. "Yes please! When do we start?"

"But first, dinner," Dumbledore smiled, getting up from his chair. "I imagine you're quite hungry after all that excitement today."

Harry shook his head. "Not really. My tummy's okay."

"Even so, let's head down. And Harry?" Dumbledore's voice turned serious for a moment. "Try not to look directly into the eyes of adult wizards you don't know well. The eyes can be a pathway for those who read minds to see your thoughts."

"Like a window?" Harry scrunched up his nose. "That's not very nice of them."

"Indeed it isn't," Dumbledore chuckled as they walked down the spiral staircase. "Just be careful, alright?"

Harry nodded, skipping every other step on their way to the Great Hall. When they reached the teachers' table, he slid into his special seat between Dumbledore and Uncle Filius.

"Hi Uncle Filius! Hi Aunt Min!" Harry waved cheerfully at the other teachers, purposefully keeping his eyes away from the scowling Potions Master at the far end.

"Good evening, Harry," McGonagall smiled warmly. "You seem rather energetic tonight."

Harry beamed and looked out at the four long house tables, spotting his friends scattered among the students. He waved enthusiastically at Charlotte, Bill, Penny, Tonks and Chiara, who all waved back.

While the other teachers filled their plates, Harry just sat quietly, listening to their conversations about classes and assignments. He didn't feel hungry at all - probably because of that mouse he ate recently.

Suddenly, Dumbledore stood up and walked to his golden owl podium. The Great Hall gradually fell silent as students noticed him waiting.

"Good evening, everyone," Dumbledore smiled gently. "I have wonderful news to share. As you all know, our castle has been plagued by mysterious cursed ice these past two years. This ice proved particularly troublesome, adapting to resist even our strongest spells."

He paused, eyes twinkling. "However, thanks to the bravery of several students, this curse has finally been broken. The ice has vanished completely from our halls."

Excited whispers broke out across the tables.

"To Miss Charlotte Whitewood, for your determination in solving this mystery - 150 points to Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers.

"To Mr. Bill Weasley, for defending your fellow students even at personal risk - 150 points to Gryffindor!"

More whooping from the red and gold table.

"To Miss Penny Haywood, for quick thinking and excellent use of healing potions - 150 points to Hufflepuff!"

The Hufflepuff table burst into applause.

"And finally," Dumbledore's eyes crinkled with warmth, "while we cannot award house points to young Mr. Potter, I must thank him for his crucial role in saving his companions when they needed him most."

The hall exploded with excited chatter. Harry shrunk down in his seat a bit as hundreds of eyes turned toward the teachers' table, his cheeks turning pink. The attention felt different this time. Usually when people stared at him, it was because of something he couldn't even remember doing as a baby. But this time, Harry knew exactly why they were looking at him - because he'd actually helped stop those scary ice knights, saved Bill and stopped the cursed ice.

"Harry," Flitwick spoke quietly beside him, his voice unusually serious. "Did those students pressure you into going with them? You know better than to go into dangerous places."

Harry shook his head quickly. "No! I wanted to help! The ice was being super annoying and kept getting in the way when I wanted to paint at the tower."

"That is not a good reason to put yourself in harm's way," Aunt Min cut in sharply from Dumbledore's other side. Her lips were pressed into a thin line that Harry recognized as her worried-and-trying-not-to-show-it face.

"But I was careful!" Harry protested. "I stayed up high most of the time, and only came down when Bill got hurt and needed help!"

"William Weasley got hurt?" Sprout asked, leaning forward with concern. "Perhaps we should send him to the Hospital Wing to be checked properly."

Flitwick was still frowning, reaching over to check Harry for injuries. "Are you certain you're not hurt anywhere? No scratches or bruises?"

"I'm fine!" Harry squirmed away from Flitwick's fussing hands. "Really! The icy knights couldn't reach me when I was flying, and my fire worked way better than their spells did!"

That turned out to be the wrong thing to say. Multiple heads snapped toward him so fast Harry worried they might hurt their necks.

"Your what?" McGonagall asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

Harry gulped. Maybe he should have kept that part secret for a bit longer.

Dumbledore cleared his throat softly. "Perhaps this discussion would be better continued after dinner? In my office?"

The other professors nodded reluctantly, though they kept shooting concerned glances at Harry throughout the meal. Harry picked at his food, not really hungry but knowing Aunt Min would worry more if he didn't eat anything.

He had a feeling this was going to be a very long evening.

 

[Evoxius]

The Great Hall slowly emptied as dinner came to an end. Professor Sprout stood up, brushing crumbs from her robes. "I'll go check on young William, make sure he doesn't need Poppy's attention."

Harry watched her leave, then turned to see Aunt Min and Uncle Filius waiting expectantly. With a small sigh, he hopped down from his seat and followed them and Grandpa up to the familiar office.

The walk felt longer than usual, especially since he usually flew up to the tower. When they finally reached the office, Harry settled into his usual chair while Aunt Min and Uncle Filius took seats facing Dumbledore's desk.

"Now then," McGonagall's Scottish brogue was more pronounced, a sure sign she was worried. "What's this about fire, Harry?"

"Indeed," Flitwick added seriously. "Fire magic is extremely dangerous, especially without proper training."

Before Harry could answer, Dumbledore raised a gentle hand. "Perhaps I can explain. Harry has shown a remarkable aptitude for wandless magic recently. It seems he's developed the ability to create and control flames."

Harry relaxed slightly, grateful for Grandpa's intervention. When Dumbledore nodded encouragingly at him, Harry held out his right palm. A small flame sprouted above it, dancing merrily in the air.

McGonagall leaned forward, her stern expression softening into concern. "It's not hurting you?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "It feels warm and nice. Like when I'm painting and everything just flows right."

Flitwick circled Harry's chair, examining the flame from different angles. "Fascinating. The control is remarkable for one so young. But Harry, you must promise to be very careful with this ability. Fire can be dangerous."

"I know," Harry said earnestly. "I only use it against someone… or something that wants to hurt me, like today with the ice knights. And I practice lots to make sure I don't burn anything I don't mean to."

"You've been practicing?" McGonagall's eyebrows shot up. "Where? When?"

"Well..." Harry squirmed in his seat, glancing between the professors. "Just out on the grounds... And I had Grandpa watching me the first couple times!"

Dumbledore gave Harry an exaggerated look of betrayal, holding his hand against his heart. "Throwing me to the wolves already, Harry?"

McGonagall turned her stern gaze on the Headmaster. "Albus! You knew about this and didn't inform us?"

"I assure you, Minerva, I kept a close eye on Harry's practice sessions. The ability manifested quite recently, and I wanted to understand its nature before causing undue concern," Dumbledore explained calmly.

"Undue concern?" Flitwick squeaked. "Such a young child wielding wandless fire magic is absolutely due cause for concern!"

Harry made the flame dance between his fingers, trying to show how well he could control it. "But I'm really careful! Look, I can make it smaller than a candle or bigger than a torch. And I haven't burned anything I didn't mean to since I first got it!"

"That's not the point, Harry," McGonagall sighed, rubbing her temples. "We're responsible for keeping you safe. How can we do that if we don't know what abilities you're developing?"

"But I did tell Grandpa!" Harry protested, letting the flame fade away. "And he helped me practice so I wouldn't hurt myself or anyone else."

"Perhaps we should focus on establishing some ground rules," Dumbledore suggested mildly. "Harry has shown remarkable control over both his mist and fire abilities. What he needs now is guidance, not restrictions."

Flitwick nodded slowly. "Yes... yes, that makes sense. Harry, would you be willing to practice with me sometimes? We could work on precision exercises."

Harry perked up immediately. "Really? That would be amazing! Can we start tomorrow?"

"Not so fast," McGonagall cut in. "First, we need to discuss safety measures. No practicing inside Hogwarts without supervision. And absolutely no using this fire against other students."

"Unless they're trying to hurt me," Harry amended quickly. "Like those big Slytherins did that time."

The professors exchanged glances at that reminder.

"Only if they're truly trying to harm you," McGonagall said firmly. "If someone's just being mean or playing pranks, you need to come straight to one of us instead."

"But what if-"

"No buts," Flitwick interrupted gently. "Your magic is powerful, Harry. We don't want any accidents happening because someone annoyed you."

Harry slumped in his chair. "Fine. But can I still practice with you tomorrow?"

"After your lessons with me," Flitwick agreed. "We'll start small - perhaps with candle-sized flames."

"I think that's enough rules for one evening," Dumbledore said, glancing at the darkening sky outside. "I still need to discuss something else with Harry, if you wouldn't mind..."

McGonagall stood, though she looked reluctant to leave. "Very well. Harry, remember what we discussed. No unsupervised practice."

"Yes, Aunt Min," Harry nodded, watching as she and Flitwick left the office.

Once the door closed behind them, Dumbledore turned to Harry with a more serious expression. "Now then, about those Occlumency lessons we discussed earlier..."

Harry's bright green eyes suddenly darkened and glazed over, his small body going still. Dumbledore stopped mid-sentence, instantly alert.

[The Hero's Journal - A Mage Of Sorothustra] – 100CP, 200CP left

This is a simple, handy enchanted item. This journal is bound to your soul and is perpetually scribbling down your journey from your perspective, with an occasional perspective shift to some omnipresent narrator who knows more than you do and occasionally dispenses some wisdom. If you read this journal and study it you will learn of new adventures you could go on, as well as, from time to time, gain a vital clue regarding where to go next.

After a few seconds, Harry blinked rapidly and shook his head. "The special words came again, Grandpa!"

"What did they say this time?" Dumbledore asked gently, though his eyes were sharp with concern.

"It was called The Hero's Journal from something called A Mage Of Soro... Soroth..." Harry struggled with the word.

"Take your time," Dumbledore encouraged.

"Sorothustra!" Harry finally managed. "It said it would cost 100CP, and I'd have 200 left. The journal would write down everything that happens to me, and sometimes tell me about new adventures I could go on! And it said there'd be hints about where to go next when I need them."

"I see," Dumbledore leaned back, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Did you accept this offer?"

Harry shook his head. "Not yet. I wanted to ask you first, since you said to tell you right away when the words showed up."

"Very wise of you," Dumbledore smiled. "This one sounds less dangerous than the zombie offer, at least. A magical journal that records your adventures and provides guidance... What do you think about it?"

"Well..." Harry kicked his feet, thinking it over. "It might be nice to read about what happened today with the vault. And maybe it could help us find more of them! But..." he hesitated, "what if it writes down stuff I want to keep secret?"

"That's a good question," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps we should think about what this journal might do. Would you mind if I wrote down exactly what those special words told you?"

Harry nodded, and watched as Dumbledore pulled out a piece of parchment. He carefully repeated the words: "The Hero's Journal - A Mage Of Sorothustra. 100CP, 200CP left. This is a simple, handy enchanted item. This journal is bound to your soul and is perpetually scribbling down your journey from your perspective, with an occasional perspective shift to some omnipresent narrator who knows more than you do and occasionally dispenses some wisdom. If you read this journal and study it you will learn of new adventures you could go on, as well as, from time to time, gain a vital clue regarding where to go next."

"It says it's bound to your soul," Dumbledore noted. "That likely means only you could read it."

Harry perked up at that. "So nobody else could see my secrets?"

"That would make sense," Dumbledore agreed. "And it might be useful to have a record of these special abilities as they appear."

Harry thought about it. A magical book that could help him find adventures and keep his secrets safe did sound pretty good. And unlike the zombie thing, this wouldn't change him into something scary.

"Could I try accepting it?" Harry asked. "If it turns out bad, I promise I'll tell you right away."

Dumbledore studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. But be careful, and let me know immediately if anything feels wrong."

Harry closed his eyes and thought about accepting the journal. There was a brief warm feeling in his chest, and suddenly a leather-bound book appeared in his lap. It wasn't very big, just the right size for his small hands, with a simple golden clasp.

"It worked!" Harry exclaimed, carefully opening the journal. The pages were filled with neat writing, describing everything from his early days at Hogwarts up to their current conversation. "Look, it's already writing about us!"

"Fascinating," Dumbledore leaned forward to look, but the words seemed to blur when he tried to focus on them. "Ah, it seems I cannot read it after all. What does it say about our conversation?"

Harry skimmed the latest page. "It's talking about how we're discussing the journal right now. And..." his eyes widened. "It says there's another cursed vault hidden somewhere in the castle! But this one's got something to do with... fear? That's weird."

Dumbledore straightened in his chair. "Another vault? Perhaps we should keep that information between us for now. The last thing we need is more students attempting dangerous explorations."

Harry nodded, still flipping through the pages. The writing seemed to flow across the paper like water, recording their conversation as it happened. He noticed some parts were written differently, like someone else was telling the story.

"Grandpa, look at this!" Harry paused, then remembered Dumbledore couldn't actually see the words. "I mean, there's parts in here that talk about stuff I didn't even know about. Like it says Charlotte's been having nightmares about her missing brother."

"That's quite interesting," Dumbledore said carefully. "Though perhaps we should be cautious about information the journal reveals about other people."

Harry shut the book with a snap. "You're right. It feels kind of wrong reading about other people's secrets." He yawned suddenly, the day's excitement catching up with him. "Can we start the mind-protecting lessons tomorrow? I'm getting sleepy."

Dumbledore smiled warmly. "Of course. It's been quite an eventful day. Shall I walk you back to your room?"

Harry shook his head. "No thanks, I can fly back! It's faster and more fun."

He glanced down at the journal in his hands, wondering where he should keep it, when a sudden understanding bloomed in his mind. Harry concentrated for a moment, and the leather-bound book dissolved into sparkling golden lights that flowed into his chest.

"Whoa!" Harry looked up at Dumbledore with wide eyes. "Did you see that? I just knew how to do it, like how I knew how to make my mist!"

Dumbledore leaned forward, intrigued. "And you can bring it back whenever you wish?"

"Yeah! Watch!" Harry held out his hands, and the journal appeared between them in a shower of golden sparks. "It's like... it's part of me now. That's what it meant by being bound to my soul, I think."

"Most remarkable," Dumbledore said. "Though perhaps save the demonstrations for tomorrow. You look about ready to fall asleep in that chair."

Harry nodded, letting the journal vanish again. He transformed into his eagle form with a quiet pop and glided to the window ledge. Before taking off, he turned his head back toward Dumbledore and let out a cheerful chirp.

"Goodnight, Harry," Dumbledore called as the golden eagle launched itself into the evening air. "And do try to stay out of trouble tomorrow!"

oo0ooOoo0oo​

Rate of CP gain is still too fast for my liking, so I'll be changing it from 4000 words to 6000 words for 100CP. It's a bit annoying to have to derail current events every 2 chapters because something new popped up. I'll probably increase it even more if it's still getting too much in the way of the story. Aside from that, I'll not include many more scenes of Harry discussing 'offers' with Dumbledore unless it's something disastrous like the Zombie Physiology from Marvel Zombies. Basically, anything that is a big negative in Harry's mind, which shouldn't pop up that often.

 

[kelgamum]

oo0ooOoo0oo​

Rate of CP gain is still too fast for my liking, so I'll be changing it from 4000 words to 6000 words for 100CP. It's a bit annoying to have to derail current events every 2 chapters because something new popped up. I'll probably increase it even more if it's still getting too much in the way of the story. Aside from that, I'll not include many more scenes of Harry discussing 'offers' with Dumbledore unless it's something disastrous like the Zombie Physiology from Marvel Zombies. Basically, anything that is a big negative in Harry's mind, which shouldn't pop up that often.

Click to shrink...

Well, now any talk of getting the various freebies of the jumps you're getting perks from is thrown straight out of the window with that one.
Since A Mage Of Sorothustra gives you an immortal supermage body with basically planet scale reality warping for free, which is an automatic "I win" in HP for anyone that isn't literally braindead.
I mean it's scaled for the setting, where galaxy level reality warping isn't unknown, but for almost any other type of setting being a Sorothustran is super OP.

 

[Evoxius]

Well, now any talk of getting the various freebies of the jumps you're getting perks from is thrown straight out of the window with that one.
Since A Mage Of Sorothustra gives you an immortal supermage body with basically planet scale reality warping for free, which is an automatic "I win" in HP for anyone that isn't literally braindead.
I mean it's scaled for the setting, where galaxy level reality warping isn't unknown, but for almost any other type of setting being a Sorothustran is super OP.

Click to shrink...

Harry can still gain Free perks since they're listed in the Celestial Grimoire, but he won't automatically gain related perks just because he got a perk from the same setting. And you're right that such a perk is way too overpowered. Even if I rolled that one, I would re-roll, because it would disrupt the story in a very negative manner. Maybe it'd be fun for a What-If scenario, but not in the main story.

 

[Evoxius]

The next morning, Harry sat cross-legged on a cushy purple pillow in Dumbledore's office, trying his very best not to fidget.

"Now Harry," Dumbledore said, sitting across from him on another pillow, "protecting your mind is a bit like building a castle. But before we can build anything, we need to clear the ground. Do you understand?"

Harry scrunched up his nose. "Sort of? Like when I want to paint something new, I need a clean paper first?"

"Exactly!" Dumbledore beamed. "Today, we're going to practice making our minds clean and empty, like a fresh piece of parchment."

"That sounds boring," Harry complained, already starting to wiggle.

"Ah, but it's actually a game!" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he pulled out what looked like a silver bracelet. "This magical bracelet will help us play. When your mind is nice and quiet, it glows green. If you start thinking too much, it turns yellow. And if your thoughts get very loud and jumbled..."

"What happens then?" Harry asked eagerly.

"It gives you a tiny tickle," Dumbledore demonstrated by tapping the bracelet with his wand. Harry giggled as a slight tingling sensation ran up his arm.

"Let's try for one minute first," Dumbledore suggested, setting an hourglass on the floor between them. "Just sit still and try to think about nothing at all."

Harry closed his eyes tight and tried to empty his head. But thoughts kept popping up like persistent bubbles - what he'd paint later, whether Charlotte had figured out the notebook yet, if Yuumi had caught any mice...

Zap! The bracelet tickled him.

"Maybe try focusing on your breathing," Dumbledore suggested gently. "In and out, like waves on a beach."

Harry tried again, thinking about painting waves. But that just made him excited about trying to paint the ocean, and zap! went the bracelet again.

"This is hard!" Harry opened his eyes with a huff. "Can't I just think about nice calm things?"

"The goal is to think of nothing at all," Dumbledore explained. "Imagine you're floating in space, where everything is quiet and still."

"But space has stars and planets and stuff!" Harry protested. "And magical creatures flying about on moonbeams, and-" Zap!

"Perhaps we need a different approach," Dumbledore mused, stroking his beard. He waved his wand, and suddenly the office disappeared. They were sitting in what looked like a blank white room that stretched forever in all directions.

"Ooh!" Harry's head whipped around, trying to see where everything had gone. "Is this real?"

"It's a special magic room where nothing exists except what we put in it," Dumbledore explained. "Now, close your eyes again. There's nothing here to think about, nothing to distract you."

Harry tried once more, finding it easier in the empty space. For a few seconds, his mind actually felt quiet...

Then he wondered if he could paint a room like this, and zap!

"Very good!" Dumbledore praised, even though Harry hadn't managed more than a few seconds. "You're already doing better than most beginners. Shall we try again?"

"One more try," Harry said, determined to beat his record. He squeezed his eyes shut and pictured his mind becoming as blank as the white room around them.

The bracelet stayed green for nearly ten seconds before Harry was disturbed by the sounds of his body in the quiet space. Zap!

"I think that's enough for today," Dumbledore said, waving his wand to restore the office. "You did very well for your first lesson. Remember to practice making your mind quiet before bed."

Harry hopped up from his pillow, eager to get to breakfast. "Can I keep the bracelet to practice with?"

"For now, yes. But remember - no showing it to the other students." Dumbledore stood up as well. "We wouldn't want them all asking for their own magical tickling bracelets, would we?"

---Nine Months Later, March 1987---

Harry's room in the castle had changed a lot since he'd become talented at painting. The walls were covered in his paintings - some moving, some still. Dragons soared across one wall, while the lake and forest stretched across another. One of his newer works showed the cursed ice knights he'd fought last year, though he'd made them less scary in the painting.

At almost seven years old, Harry was pretty tall for his age, and strong and nimble from all his exercises. His messy black hair refused to stay flat no matter what Aunt Min tried, and his bright green eyes seemed to catch everything.

Harry adjusted his black robes while absently making his mist flow around him. He was glad he didn't need glasses like his father had - Aunt Min had mentioned James Potter was practically blind without them. At least he got his mum's eyes, though thinking about his parents always gave him a funny feeling in his chest. He didn't remember them at all, just what people told him and the few moving photos he had.

The mist formed into three perfect pyramids above his head. He hadn't gotten any offers in many months now from the special words. When he'd asked Grandpa about it, Dumbledore just smiled and said to be grateful for what he already had. Still, Harry couldn't help hoping for more.

At least his firebending was getting better every day. Uncle Filius's precision exercises really helped - just yesterday he'd managed to light all twenty candles in the practice room with exactly the same sized flame. He'd even discovered something new about two months ago! If he pooled more energy in his hands or feet before releasing it, the flames became almost solid, pushing things back instead of burning them. It wasn't as hot as normal fire, but it was probably going to be very useful if he didn't want to hurt someone too badly.

The Hero's Journal was fun to read too. Sometimes it gave him little hints about things happening in the castle. Just last month he was talking with Tonks, Penny and Chiara who were helping a first-year Ravenclaw find her lost cat when the journal mentioned something about "Mister Snuffles' favorite sunny spot." And finding the kitchens had been fun - the journal had written something about "ticklish fruit" and "helpful beings," which confused him until one of his caretakers, Mipsy, explained about the pear painting when he complained that it didn't make any sense.

Harry reached for his pouch in the closet, and something burst out at him. He stumbled back, heart racing - then froze.

It was... himself. But wrong. Powerless. The other Harry looked weak and hurt, blood seeping from a chest wound just like what had happened to Draco at the Ministry. The figure coughed painfully, reaching toward him with shaking hands.

Harry's initial fear faded quickly as his instincts kicked in. Whatever this thing was, it couldn't actually hurt him. He'd gotten pretty good over the years at telling just how dangerous things were, and this... this wasn't dangerous at all.

Harry scowled at the pathetic display before him. A Boggart - he remembered reading about them in one of the books Aunt Min gave him. It was trying to scare him with... himself being weak? Being hurt like Draco was?

"That's not very nice," Harry said coldly, his earlier fear replaced with anger. How dare this weak creature, this thing that couldn't even hurt him, try to use his memories against him? The fake Harry whimpered, still reaching toward him with bloody hands.

His mist responded to his intentions, seeping from his skin in thick coils. Harry directed it toward the Boggart, wanting to show it what real fear felt like. The creature, still wearing his face, tried to change shape again but the mist enveloped it too quickly in a spherical prison.

For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then the Boggart screamed.

The sound made Harry jump back. The mist surrounding the creature began to pulse and writhe, growing darker and thicker. The Boggart kept changing forms rapidly - a wounded Harry, a dementor, a dragon, back to Harry - each form letting out increasingly terrified shrieks.

Harry's satisfaction quickly turned to concern as the amortal non-being thrashed wildly in his mist, its transformations becoming more erratic. This wasn't supposed to happen. The mist was meant to show fears, yes, but the Boggart... it fed on fear. His mist was making it see its own fear, which was making it feed on itself, which his mist was then amplifying.

"Stop!" Harry tried to pull the mist back, but it wasn't listening anymore. The Boggart's screams were getting higher and higher pitched, its form blurring so fast Harry couldn't make out what it was trying to become.

Harry stumbled back as the Boggart's screams reached a pitch that made his teeth hurt. The mist swirled faster and darker, almost black now, feeding off the creature's terror and reflecting it back. His bedroom walls seemed to vibrate with each shriek.

"Please stop!" Harry waved his hands frantically, trying to disperse the mist, but it had taken on a life of its own. The Boggart was spinning in place now, its form a twisted blur of colors and shapes that made his head spin. He could see fragments of things - claws, teeth, blood, darkness - all mixing together in a horrible mess.

Something cracked. Harry looked up to see hairline fractures spreading across his painted walls, the pictures warping and twisting. His beautiful dragon painting split in half as the surface buckled.

The door burst open. "Harry! What's happening-" Flitwick's voice cut off in shock.

"Uncle Filius! Help!" Harry shouted over the noise. "It's a Boggart but my mist- I can't make it stop!"

Flitwick raised his wand, but before he could cast anything, the Boggart let out one final glass-shattering shriek - and exploded. Black smoke filled the room as Harry felt himself being yanked backward by a spell. He landed safely behind Flitwick just as all his paintings shattered at once, raining magical paint and canvas across the floor.

When the smoke cleared, there was nothing left of the Boggart except a small pile of dark ash. Harry's mist dissipated slowly, leaving the room in eerie silence.

"I didn't mean to," Harry whispered, staring at the destruction. His beautiful paintings, months of work, lay in ruins around them. "I just wanted to scare it a little, but then it got scared of being scared and my mist kept showing it more fear and-"

"Breathe, Harry," Flitwick said gently, keeping his wand raised as he examined the ash pile. "Are you hurt?"

Harry shook his head, fighting back tears. "Did... did I kill it?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Flitwick admitted. "I've never seen anything quite like that before. We should get the Headmaster."

Flitwick waved his wand in a rotational pattern. "Reparo!"

The shattered paintings and canvas pieces flew back together, mending themselves seamlessly. Colors swirled and reformed, magical creatures returning to their proper places on the walls. The dragon painting's two halves jammed back together and shook itself, as if clearing away dust, before resuming its majestic flight across the restored wall.

Harry wiped his eyes with his sleeve, sniffling. "They're okay?"

"Good as new," Flitwick assured him, though he kept glancing at the pile of ash. "Now, let's fetch Professor Dumbledore. He'll want to see this."

"Can we clean it up first?" Harry asked, not wanting to get in trouble. "Maybe if we just sweep it away-"

"Harry," Flitwick's voice was kind but firm. "We need to understand what happened here. Your mist spell did something very unusual to that Boggart. The Headmaster should examine it."

Harry nodded reluctantly. He knew Flitwick was right, but part of him just wanted to pretend nothing had happened. His chest felt tight, like when he'd accidentally scared that sparrow to death with his mist last year.

"Could you send your Patronus to tell him?" Harry asked quietly. He didn't want to leave his room just yet, not while that pile of ash was still there reminding him what his power could do.

Flitwick nodded, conjuring his raven Patronus with a flick of his wand. After sending it off with a message, he turned back to Harry.

"Would you like to tell me what happened in more detail?"

Harry sat on his bed, legs dangling over the edge. "I was just getting ready for breakfast when something jumped out of my closet. It turned into... me, but hurt and weak."

He glanced at the pile of ash, then back to Flitwick. "I knew it was a Boggart right away. It wasn't actually dangerous. But it made me angry that it was trying to scare me with that, so I used my mist on it."

Flitwick conjured a small chair and sat down. "And then?"

"It started screaming," Harry said, wrapping his arms around himself. "The mist usually just shows people what they're afraid of, but the Boggart... it kept changing shapes really fast. Like it was getting more scared of being scared."

Dumbledore walked through the doorway then, his star-splattered purple robes swishing softly. His eyes went straight to the pile of ash, eyebrows rising in surprise.

"Most peculiar," he murmured, kneeling down to examine it. "Filius, have you ever seen anything like this?"

"Never," Flitwick shook his head. "The mist spell seemed to create some sort of feedback loop with the Boggart's fear-based nature. It kept escalating until..." he gestured at the ash.

"Fascinating," Dumbledore pulled out his wand and cast several detection spells. "An amortal being should not be capable of death. They simply exist or cease to exist. This is unprecedented."

Harry watched them discuss it, feeling smaller by the minute. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, my boy," Dumbledore turned to him with gentle eyes. "This was an accident, and quite an educational one at that. Though perhaps we should not cast a fear-based spell on an entity that feeds on fear."

"I didn't mean to kill it," Harry said in a small voice. "I just wanted to teach it a lesson."

"Perhaps we can learn from this," Dumbledore said, vanishing the ash with a wave of his wand. "Would you show us your mist again, Harry? In a controlled manner this time?"

Harry nodded, glad he wasn't in trouble. He held out his hand, letting the familiar silvery mist seep from his skin. It pooled in his palm like water made of moonlight.

"Remarkable," Dumbledore murmured, raising his wand. Golden light danced around the mist as he cast detection spells. "Filius, look at how it responds to the Anima Revelio."

Flitwick cast his own spell, and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Almost like a Patronus, but... different."

Harry sat quietly while they worked, making his mist form different shapes to keep himself entertained. A tiny hut rose from his palm, complete with a garden and pen. When that got boring, he made it into a stick figure made out of cubes.

The sun climbed higher in the sky as Dumbledore cast spell after spell…

"The composition is fascinating," Dumbledore said after what felt like forever. He stroked his beard, watching the mist swirl around Harry's fingers. "It's not purely magical energy. There's something else... something almost spiritual."

"Like ghosts?" Harry asked, bored out of his mind.

"Similar, yes." Dumbledore shared a look with Flitwick. "The mist seems to share properties with ghosts and soul magic, though how you're creating it..."

"I just do," Harry shrugged, making the mist disappear. "Like how I know when someone's dangerous, or how to transform into an eagle."

"I've noticed more Boggarts in the castle lately," Flitwick mentioned to Dumbledore, his small form perched on the edge of his conjured chair. "Just last week we found three in the third floor classrooms."

Harry's eyes lit up, remembering what his journal had written about another vault connected to fear. He squirmed in his seat, catching Dumbledore's eye. "Grandpa, you know... the thing we talked about?"

"Ah yes," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he caught Harry's meaning. "Perhaps we can investigate that connection another time. For now, I believe you're late for breakfast."

"But what about the Boggarts?" Harry asked, sliding off his bed. "Shouldn't we do something?"

"While concerning, a few extra Boggarts aren't particularly dangerous," Dumbledore assured him. "At least, not under normal circumstances." He glanced meaningfully at the spot where the ash had been.

Harry felt his cheeks grow warm. "I promise not to use my mist on any more Boggarts."

 

[Kris-71854]

It serves the little vermin right. That bogart couldn't take what it dished out. Harry's mist seems effective on it rather than the usual spell which was more for containing them. It's annoying having to listen to screaming, but not that bad.

I can see this Harry ending up as an accidental dark lord.

 

[Evoxius]

Harry stood at the edge of the Great Lake, carefully going through his firebending forms. He'd dragged one of the smaller mirrors from an unused classroom out here - with Mipsy's help of course - and propped it against a large rock so he could watch himself practice. The spring air was crisp but not too cold, perfect for training.

"Punch, step, twist, kick," he muttered to himself, watching his reflection carefully. The instincts that came with firebending always told him when a move felt wrong, but seeing it helped too. Sometimes his foot would be slightly off, or his arm not quite straight enough.

His thoughts kept drifting back to last week's Boggart incident. Even though Uncle Filius fixed his paintings and Grandpa wasn't mad, Harry couldn't stop thinking about those horrible screams. The way the creature had twisted and warped before exploding into black ash...

"Stupid Boggart," Harry growled, his next punch producing bigger flames than he'd meant to. "Stupid mist. Stupid everything!"

He dropped into a wider stance, planting his feet firmly on the ground like roots of a tree. With his eyes closed, Harry drew in the deepest breath he could, feeling his chest expand. The energy in his core swirled and built as he held that breath, compressing tighter and tighter until his whole body felt like it might burst.

One... two... three... four... five... six...

Harry's eyes snapped open as he exhaled explosively, throwing his right fist forward with everything he had. The fire that erupted from his hand wasn't its usual cheerful orange - instead, deep red flames roared across the lake's surface, spreading out nearly thirty feet and turning the water beneath to steam with angry hisses.

"Bloody hell!"

"Merlin's pants!"

Harry spun around at the surprised yelps, spotting Tonks and Penny approaching from the castle path. Tonks's hair had turned a shocked white color, while Penny was clutching her books to her chest with wide eyes.

The bracelet on Harry's wrist was zapping him repeatedly now, glowing a deep warning yellow. Taking a quick breath, Harry closed his eyes and fell into the familiar routine of clearing his thoughts, something he practiced every night before bed. Empty and quiet, like the white room. No anger, no frustration, no remembered screams...

His shoulders slowly relaxed as he counted his breaths like Grandpa had taught him. After several long moments, he opened his eyes, managing a slightly wobbly smile.

His voice was quieter than usual, but steady enough. "Hi Tonks! Hi Penny! Did you come to watch me practice?"

The two girls walked over just as his bracelet finally stopped its tickling. Tonks's hair had shifted back to her favorite bubblegum pink, though she was still eyeing the steaming lake water.

"We saw you from Charms class," Penny said, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Thought we'd come say hi before dinner."

"Where's Chiara?" Harry asked, looking around for their quiet friend. "She's usually with you guys."

Tonks's smile turned awkward. "Ah, she's got some... girl stuff going on right now. Nothing for little boys to worry about!"

"I'm not that little," Harry protested, but didn't push it. He knew when grown-ups - or almost-grown-ups - were trying to keep secrets.

"That was some pretty intense fire though," Tonks said, gesturing at the lake. "Way bigger than what you showed us before!"

Penny nodded. "Even when we were dealing with the ice, it wasn't quite that... explosive."

Harry kicked at the grass. "It wasn't good at all. I got angry and lost control."

"That doesn't mean it wasn't cool though," Tonks grinned, her hair shifting to flame-red. "Just needs a bit more control, yeah?"

"I guess," Harry shrugged, then brightened. "Oh! Mipsy?"

With a soft pop, the house elf appeared beside him, her large ears perking up. "Young Master Harry is calling?"

"Could you take the mirror back to where we got it from? Please?"

"Of course! Mipsy is happy to help!" She snapped her fingers, making both herself and the mirror vanish.

"Dinner's soon," Penny said, checking with Tempus. "Want to walk back with us?"

Harry nodded, falling into step between them as they headed toward the castle.

"So what made you all grumpy anyway?" Tonks asked as they walked. "Usually you're way more careful with your fire stuff whenever you show off your progress."

Harry kicked a small rock along the path. "Just thinking about stuff that happened last week. Made me mad."

"Want to talk about it?" Penny offered.

"Not really," Harry mumbled, then perked up. "Oh! I didn't show you guys yet, but I did learn how to make the flames push things instead of burn them! Want to see?"

"Maybe after dinner," Penny laughed. "I don't fancy getting singed before pudding."

"You're like a tiny flamethrower," Tonks grinned. "Except way cooler."

Harry scrunched up his face. "What's a flame-throw-er?"

"It's this Muggle weapon thing," Tonks explained, waving her hands excitedly. "They put special fuel in a big metal tank, and when they pull a trigger it shoots out fire really far!"

"But... why don't they just use spells?" Harry asked, genuinely confused. "Sounds like a lot of work just to make fire."

"Muggles can't do magic, remember?" Penny reminded him gently.

"Oh yeah." Harry thought about it for a moment. "That's silly though. They make everything so complicated! Like those flying metal birds Aunt Min told me about."

"Airplanes," Tonks supplied helpfully.

"Yeah, those! Why build a giant metal thing when you can just use a small broom?" Harry shook his head. "Muggles are funny."

"Muggles are just normal people who can't help that they don't have magic," Tonks disagreed as they reached the castle entrance. "And they come up with some really fun stuff too. Like movies!"

Harry waved goodbye to the girls as they split off toward their house tables. Walking through the Great Hall, he noticed the usual whispers and stares following him. Ever since he'd started practicing by the lake instead of hidden away in empty classrooms, people seemed even more interested in him than usual.

He plopped down in his usual seat, reaching into his soul to summon out the leather-bound Hero's Journal. The book appeared in his hands with a faint golden light, its pages already flipping open to the most recent entries.

'Young Harry struggled with the aftermath of the Boggart incident,' read one passage. 'His guilt over its destruction manifested in anger, leading him to fuel his flames with negative emotions rather than his usual artistic passion. Combined with compressed Chi, this resulted in flames of unusual power and intensity, though at the cost of control.'

"Chi?" Harry muttered, feeling his cheeks warm at reading about his mistakes. He'd always just called it energy. The next few lines caught his attention even more.

'While Nymphadora Tonks spoke of "girl problems" affecting young Chiara, the truth lies beneath the surface - quite literally, in fact. Perhaps a curious eagle might find answers beneath the violent tree tonight, where someone could use a friend during their monthly ordeal...'

Harry sat up straighter in his seat at that. This definitely sounded like another adventure! But why would Chiara be under a violent tree at night? And what did it mean by monthly...?

His thoughts were interrupted by Professor McGonagall dropping a napkin on his head. "Eat your dinner, Harry. That book will still be there after you've had some proper food."

Harry glanced up at Aunt Min through his messy black hair. "Thanks," he mumbled, stuffing the journal back into his soul and reaching for some shepherd's pie.

He really wanted to know more about this tree though. Trying to sound casual, he asked, "Aunt Min? I heard some students talking about a violent tree somewhere. What's that about?"

McGonagall's lips pressed into a thin line. "Really, they shouldn't be gossiping about such things to you." She sighed, serving him some vegetables. "But since you asked - there's a Whomping Willow north of the greenhouses, near the forest edge. It's quite dangerous, swings its branches at anything that comes close. You're not to go anywhere near it, understood?"

Harry nodded quickly, shoving a big bite of pie in his mouth so he wouldn't have to say anything else. Perfect - now he knew exactly where to look! After dinner, he could transform and fly around until he spotted it.

But how would Chiara get under a tree that hit things? That part didn't make sense yet. Maybe if he found a comfy branch in a normal tree nearby, he could watch and figure it out. His eagle eyes were really good at seeing things in the dark anyway.

He took another small bite of dinner, already excited about his nighttime adventure. The journal hadn't been wrong about anything yet, and this sounded way more interesting than practicing Occlumency before bed.

"Harry," McGonagall's stern voice broke into his thoughts. "You're practically bouncing in your seat. What are you planning?"

"Nothing!" Harry said quickly - too quickly. "Just... excited about dessert?"

McGonagall raised an eyebrow at the very flimsy excuse but didn't push further. Harry focused on his food, trying to look innocent. He was getting better at keeping secrets, but Aunt Min always seemed to know when he was up to something.

oo0ooOoo0oo​

Harry's talons gripped the thick oak branch as he watched the Whomping Willow in the growing darkness. He'd been perched here for almost an hour, his eagle eyes scanning for any movement near the violent tree. The journal had said tonight, but hadn't mentioned what time...

He perked up as two figures made their way over a hill towards the Whomping Willow. His eagle vision easily picked out Madam Pomfrey's distinctive white healer's robes, and next to her was... Chiara!

He watched curiously as Madam Pomfrey levitated a long stick, carefully guiding it to prod something at the base of the tree. The Whomping Willow, which had been lazily swaying its branches, suddenly went completely still.

Pomfrey gave Chiara a quick hug, speaking to her in low tones Harry couldn't catch from his pretty far-away perch. Chiara nodded, looking pale and tired in the fading light, before hurrying towards the now-docile tree. To Harry's surprise, she disappeared underneath it, as if there was some kind of space hidden in its roots.

Once Pomfrey started heading back towards the castle, Harry spread his wings. Whatever was going on with Chiara, she probably needed a friend. He glided silently from his oak branch towards the Willow, intending to follow her path.

He'd barely come close when the tree suddenly sprang back to life. A massive branch whooshed over his head, missing him by inches! Harry backwinged hard, heart pounding as the Whomping Willow's branches began their violent swaying once more.

Well, that explained why they needed the stick. But how was he supposed to get past it now? There had to be some way to reach whatever secret tunnel Chiara had disappeared into...

His eagle eyes suddenly darkened and he nearly lost control of his wings in surprise.

[Devouring the Heart - Elden Ring - Limgrave] – 200CP, 100CP left

It matters not from where a dragon originates, for a dragon is still a dragon, and there is power within their hearts. Whenever you consume the heart of a dragon, regardless of its exact nature, then you will find yourself gaining a new power or ability based upon whose heart you have consumed. The heart of a dragon attuned to the arcane would see you capable of utilizing its magical breath, while a dragon known for its physical strength would see you summoning its claws.

Harry fluttered down to land behind a nearby boulder, his talons scraping against the cool stone as he transformed back to human form. His heart was still racing, both from nearly getting smacked by the Whomping Willow and from seeing those special words appear again after so long.

"Dragons," he whispered excitedly to himself. He loved dragons - had painted dozens of them on his walls. And now he could get powers from them? That was so cool!

But wait. Harry frowned, thinking carefully like Grandpa always told him to. The words said he had to eat dragon hearts to get the powers. That sounded kind of gross. And where would he even find dragon hearts?

Then again... Harry remembered the stories Uncle Filius told about dragon heartstring wands. If wands could use dragon parts for magic, maybe eating their hearts wasn't that weird? And he already ate raw prey sometimes when he was an eagle, so maybe dragon heart wouldn't taste that bad even if he didn't usually eat organs.

Plus, Harry thought with growing excitement, if he did find a dragon heart from a really strong dragon, he might get amazing powers! Maybe even breathing real dragon fire, way bigger and hotter than his firebending. Or super sharp claws that could cut through anything! He probably wouldn't get anything else from dragons, but just that was cool enough.

He looked back at the Whomping Willow still swaying menacingly in the darkness. He should probably be trying to figure out how to get past it to check on Chiara... but this was the first special offer in forever! And it wasn't anything scary like becoming a zombie - just cool dragon stuff!

"Yes," Harry said firmly, making his decision. "I want it!"

He waited, bouncing slightly on his toes. The wind rustled through the leaves above. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance. The Whomping Willow's branches kept swishing back and forth.

Nothing happened.

Harry's excitement deflated like a punctured balloon. He smacked his forehead with his palm, feeling pretty silly. "Oh. Right. I need to actually eat a dragon heart first."

He slumped against the boulder, watching the Willow's branches dance in the light from the full moon. Getting dragon powers would have to wait - he didn't even know where to find dragon hearts. Maybe one of the professors would know? But then he'd have to explain why he wanted one, and he didn't want to seem weird for wanting to eat a dragon heart…

Harry shook his head, pushing those thoughts away for now. He had something more important to do tonight. Somewhere under that crazy tree, Chiara was all alone, and the journal thought she needed a friend.

 

[Zentoraus]

Watched. Absolutely watched. Well done

 

[Fried_Chicken]

Wonderful work!!! Also Harry is definitely going to accidentally become a dark lord isn't he? Especially with the effects of that first perk on his mindset. You did a good job of showcasing that, btw!

 

[ptbptb]

"Yes," Harry said firmly, making his decision. "I want it!"

Click to shrink...

That really should have been a "talk it over with Dumbledore" decision. Dragon hearts aren't exactly easy to come by - especially legally and ethically.

 

[Evoxius]

Harry crept closer to the Whomping Willow, staying low to the ground. The massive tree's branches kept swishing through the air, making whooshing sounds that reminded him of when he dove as an eagle. He needed to find whatever spot Madam Pomfrey had poked with that stick.

The full moon cast enough light for him to see pretty well, but getting close enough to look properly meant risking getting hit. And those branches looked way bigger from down here than they had from his safe perch in the oak tree.

"Come on," he muttered to himself. "You fought ice knights. This is just a tree."

But his instincts disagreed - the tree could definitely hurt him badly if it landed a hit. Harry bit his lip, considering his options. He could try flying really fast, but one wrong move and splat. He could try using his fire, but Aunt Min would probably be super mad if he burned the special tree.

Maybe his mist? No, making this tree panic probably wasn't that useful. And after what happened with the Boggart, Harry wasn't keen on using that power on random magical beings, or non-beings, if he didn't know how it would affect them unless he really had to.

A branch smashed into the ground nearby, making Harry jump. "Okay, okay, thinking time over."

He transformed back into his eagle form, fluttering up to get a better view. From above, he could see a sort of knot in the roots where Madam Pomfrey had pointed her stick. That had to be the secret button or whatever made the tree freeze.

Harry let out a frustrated huff, watching another branch smash into the dirt. He really didn't want to get hit - the tree looked mean enough to break bones. But Chiara was down there somewhere, and the journal said she needed a friend...

Wait. Maybe he didn't need to get close at all!

Harry changed back to human form, his feet settling firmly on the grass. If he could use that trick he discovered, and hit that knot in the roots from here...

"Small and careful," Harry whispered to himself, dropping into a loose stance. He didn't need a big flame for this - just enough to reach the target.

Taking a slow breath, Harry focused on pooling his chi at his right hand, just as he'd practiced. When he punched forward, the energy flowed from his core through the main pathway, streaming toward his hand. A small flame shot out—looking ordinary enough, but Harry could sense its difference. The fire pressed into the knot and then spread across the tree's bark without leaving even a scorch mark.

The Whomping Willow's branches slowed, then froze completely.

"Ha!" Harry grinned, quite pleased with himself. "Knew that would be useful someday!"

He jogged over to the now-still tree, peering around its massive trunk. There - between two giant roots was a person-sized gap leading down into darkness. Harry hesitated for just a moment before climbing inside. The tunnel was dark and seemed to go on forever, but Chiara had come this way, so it had to lead somewhere.

Harry cupped his right hand, focusing on creating just a tiny flame. The small orange light danced in his palm, casting flickering shadows on the earthen walls. The tunnel wasn't very wide - an adult would probably have to slouch, but Harry could walk normally.

He walked. And walked. And walked some more. The flame in his palm barely touched the darkness ahead, and the silence pressed in around him like a heavy blanket. His footsteps seemed too loud in the quiet, even though he tried to step carefully.

"This is taking forever," Harry muttered to himself, just to hear something besides his own breathing. The tunnel curved slightly here and there, but he felt it was mostly going left. Or at least he hoped it was left - he'd lost track of direction ages ago.

After probably less than twenty minutes, Harry spotted something ahead. The tunnel ended in what looked like wooden boards on the roof of the tunnel, with a gap just big enough for someone to squeeze through.

Harry extinguished his flame and studied the opening. He'd need to jump a bit to reach it, but that shouldn't be too hard. Taking a deep breath, he pushed off the ground and grabbed the edge, pulling himself up as quietly as he could.

The room he climbed into made him freeze. Broken furniture lay scattered about like someone had thrown everything around in a rage. Deep scratches marked the walls, and sheets of wallpaper hung in sad, torn strips. Thick dust covered everything, stirred by his movements into lazy swirls that caught what little moonlight filtered through boarded-up windows.

The floorboards creaked ominously under his feet. Harry jumped when one cracked with a sharp snap, his heart suddenly pounding. This place felt wrong - like one of those haunted houses from the stories older students sometimes told to scare the younger ones.

"Chiara?" he called softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you here somewhere?"

Silence answered him. Then - a low growl from somewhere upstairs made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. That... that didn't sound like Chiara at all.

"Chiara?" he tried again, even quieter this time. The growling got louder.

Harry's hands started trembling slightly. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all...

Heavy footsteps thudded overhead, sending dust raining down from the ceiling. Harry backed up against the wall, feeling sweat trickle down his forehead. Whatever was up there sounded big. Really big.

The growling turned into a snarl that made his whole body want to run. But his feet felt frozen to the floor as something crashed around upstairs, getting closer to the stairs.

Should he transform and try to fly back through the tunnel? But eagles weren't made for underground spaces - his wings would hit the walls. Should he use his fire? But in this small wooden house, he might burn everything down, including himself. His little trick with pooling chi at the exit points wasn't something he had perfected, and it could still cause things to burn if they were vulnerable enough.

A horrible thought struck him. If that thing upstairs had hurt Chiara...

The floorboards above creaked. Harry held his breath, pressing himself flat against the wall. His instincts were screaming at him that whatever was up there could definitely kill him. He should listen to his instincts, and he must run away as fast as he could.

But Chiara was his friend. And friends didn't leave friends alone with monsters.

The stairs groaned. Something was coming down.

Harry compressed his chi slightly, ready to fight if he had to. His hands shook as he raised them in a defensive stance. The orange flame that sprouted from his palms cast wild shadows on the walls.

A massive shape appeared at the top of the stairs. In the flickering firelight, Harry caught glimpses of gray fur, sharp teeth, and eyes that glowed with an unnatural amber light.

His breath caught in his throat as understanding hit him like a punch to the stomach.

"Oh," Harry whispered, his flames guttering out as his concentration shattered. "You're a werewolf."

The creature - Chiara - let out another bone-chilling growl and took a step down the stairs.

Harry's heart hammered in his chest as the werewolf took another step down the creaking stairs. Those amber eyes locked onto him with predatory focus, and he could see foam starting to gather at the corners of her mouth.

The wolf that was Chiara let out a low, rumbling growl that made Harry's knees feel weak. Her muscles bunched and tensed under thick gray fur, like a Coiled Ashwinder about to strike. Any second now she'd snap and...

Think! The journal wouldn't send him here just to get eaten. There had to be something he was missing. Chiara was sick every month, and she had two different kinds of danger inside her, and it was the full moon tonight...

By Merlin's name was he dumb for not figuring it out sooner.

The werewolf's claws scraped against the wooden steps as she descended another step. Harry pressed himself flat against the wall, cursing softly under his breath. What exactly had the journal said? Something about truth beneath the surface, and a curious eagle finding answers...

Chiara's massive head tilted back, and she let out a howl that shook dust from the ceiling. The sound bounced off the walls, making Harry's ears ring. She was losing control fast.

Eagle! That was it! The journal said 'curious eagle'!

Just as Chiara launched herself down the remaining stairs, Harry concentrated hard and transformed. His body shrank and shifted, feathers sprouting across his skin. Where a small boy had stood moments ago, now perched a golden eagle.

The werewolf skidded to a stop barely three feet away, her claws leaving deep gouges in the floorboards. Her head tilted in confusion as she stared at him, nostrils flaring. The rage in those amber eyes slowly dimmed as she processed that there were no more humans nearby.

Harry stayed very still, watching as Chiara's tensed muscles gradually relaxed. The foam at her mouth began to dry, and her growls turned into curious snuffling sounds as she lowered her massive head to inspect him more closely.

Maybe this was what the journal meant about being a friend during her monthly ordeal. She didn't want to hurt anyone - she just couldn't help it when she saw humans during the full moon. But animals were safe.

Harry watched as Chiara sniffed at his feathers, her hot breath ruffling them slightly. The werewolf was still scary-looking up close, with teeth longer than his fingers and claws that looked like they could tear through stone, but she wasn't acting mean anymore. Just curious, like a really big dog meeting a new friend.

He carefully shifted his weight on his talons, making sure not to make any sudden moves. The floorboards creaked beneath him, and Chiara's ears twitched at the sound. But she just huffed and sat back on her haunches, watching him with those glowing amber eyes.

This was way better than trying to fight her. Harry knew his fire might hurt her, and he really didn't want to do that. She was his friend, even if right now she looked like something from Stupid Snape's weekly attempt to scare him.

Chiara let out a small whine and pawed at the ground. She looked lonely, Harry realized. Maybe that's why she came down here every full moon - so she wouldn't accidentally hurt anyone, but that meant being all alone in this creepy old house.

Making up his mind, Harry hopped closer and chirped softly. See? Just a friendly bird. Nothing to worry about.

The werewolf's tail actually wagged a little, thumping against the dusty floor. She lay down, resting her huge head on her paws, still watching him but in a sleepy sort of way now.

Harry hopped closer to Chiara, looking around the broken-down house as he did. Chairs lay in pieces, tables had chunks missing, and deep scratches covered nearly every surface. He'd seen cats do something similar to furniture at Hogwarts, but on a much smaller scale. Did werewolves need to scratch things too? The house looked like it had been through several angry bears rather than just one werewolf.

At least Chiara seemed calm now. She watched him with lazy interest as he explored, her tail occasionally thumping against the floor when he came near. Harry decided he might as well do something fun while keeping her company - it wasn't like he could sleep anyway, not with how exciting this whole night had been.

Even in eagle form, Harry could still convert his magic into fear-mist. He couldn't access his firebending like this - birds didn't have the right chi paths or whatever made firebending work. But the mist was different, more like part of his magic than his body.

Harry concentrated, pulling at that familiar feeling. A small cloud of silvery mist formed in front of him, making Chiara's ears perk up. He shaped it carefully into a ball, then stretched it into a cube. The werewolf's amber eyes tracked the movement, her head tilting slightly.

Encouraged by her interest, Harry made the cube spin slowly in the air. He'd gotten pretty good at this kind of movement lately - way better than those wobbly attempts with Tonks watching. The cube morphed into a pyramid, then back to a sphere.

Chiara suddenly swiped at the misty shape with one massive paw. Harry quickly made it float higher, his eagle heart jumping a bit. The mist might make her panic if she touched it, and he really didn't want to find out if werewolves liked eating eagles.

But she just watched the floating shapes with the same fascination his cat-form aunt showed for the red dot from Flitwick's wand when he decided to tease her. Harry kept practicing, making triangles and squares dance through the air. He even managed to make four shapes at once, though keeping them all rotating smoothly at all times was tricky.

The night went on, and Harry found himself getting sleepy. His shapes started getting wobblier, and keeping his eyes open got harder. Chiara hadn't moved much except to watch his mist-show, and she really did seem more like a big furry dog than a monster now.

Making up his mind, Harry let his mist fade away and fluttered over to where Chiara lay. She lifted her head slightly as he landed between her ears, but didn't seem to mind as he settled into her soft fur.

Harry tucked his head under his wing, and slowly fell asleep.

 

[Evoxius]

Harry woke to gentle fingers stroking his feathers. Still half-asleep, he lifted his head and blinked blearily at Chiara, who was back to her normal self and looking at him with tired eyes. The early morning sunlight shone through the cracks in the boarded windows, creating small sunbeams across the room.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then Chiara's eyes widened and she let out a startled shriek and scrambled backwards, nearly falling over a broken chair.

"Harry?! What are you- how did you- you can't be here!" Her voice cracked with panic as she pressed herself against the wall. "Do you know what I am? What could have happened?"

Harry hopped down from where he'd been perched and transformed back into his human form, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Course I know. You're a werewolf. But it's okay - I figured out how to help! See, when I'm an eagle, you don't try to eat me or anything. You just act like a big friendly dog."

Chiara's face had gone very pale. "You... you stayed here all night? With me? As an eagle?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Yeah! I made shapes with my mist to entertain you and everything. You really liked chasing them around." Harry grinned, then yawned widely. "Though I fell asleep on your head eventually. Your fur's really soft."

"But... but..." Chiara seemed to be having trouble finding words. "I could have killed you! What if I'd... if I'd..."

"Nah," Harry said confidently. "Werewolf-you was super dangerous to human-me, but not to eagle-me at all. That's why the journal told me to come help - it knew I'd be safe as long as I wasn't human."

"The journal?" Chiara mouthed, but Harry was already talking again.

"It's this really neat book I got that only I can read. It tells me about adventures and stuff. Like how to find you! Though it was kind of tricky figuring out what it meant about the 'curious eagle' part at first," Harry explained, brushing dust off his robes. "But then when you came down those stairs all growly and scary, I remembered!"

"Harry," Chiara interrupted, grabbing his shoulders gently. Her face was still pale, and her hands trembled slightly. "Please, just... just stay still for a moment. I need to check if you're hurt anywhere. Are you absolutely sure I didn't bite or scratch you?"

"I'm fine! Promise!" Harry said, but let her check his arms and neck anyway. "You weren't mean at all once I transformed. You just wanted someone to play with, right?"

Chiara's inspection slowed, and her shoulders started to relax as she found no injuries. "I... I don't remember much from last night. Just fragments. But I do remember seeing something golden, and feeling... less angry than usual." She finally stepped back, running a hand through her messy silver hair. "You really stayed the whole night?"

"Well yeah! That's what friends do, right?" Harry said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Nobody should have to be all alone in a creepy old house. Even if they're all big and furry once a month."

Tears started forming in Chiara's eyes. Harry shifted uncomfortably - he wasn't very good with crying. But before he could say anything, she pulled him into a tight hug.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Just... thank you."

"Er, you're welcome," Harry said, awkwardly patting her back. He wasn't used to hugs - most people at Hogwarts weren't very huggy, except maybe Hagrid, but those felt more like being squeezed by a friendly bear.

When Chiara finally let go, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "We should get back to the castle before anyone notices we're gone. Madam Pomfrey will be here soon to check on me."

Harry nodded, then remembered something. "Oh! I can show you the trick I used to get past the tree! It's pretty neat."

They made their way back through the tunnel, Harry lighting the way with a small flame in his palm. Chiara kept glancing at him, like she couldn't quite believe he was real.

"Does it hurt?" Harry asked suddenly. "When you change, I mean."

Chiara was quiet for a moment. "Yes. But I'm used to it now. It's been happening since I was seven."

"That's not fair," Harry said, frowning. "You're nice. Nice people shouldn't have to hurt."

"Life isn't always fair," Chiara said softly. "But having friends who understand... it helps more than you know."

They reached the end of the tunnel. Harry demonstrated how he'd used his chi-pooled fire to hit the knot in the Whomping Willow's roots, making the tree freeze again.

"That's amazing," Chiara said as they climbed out. "I didn't know you could do that with fire."

"I figured it out while practicing. If you pool the… energy just right at your hands or feet, it makes the fire feel solid instead of just hot," Harry explained. "Uncle Filius' been helping me practice control, even though he can't do it himself."

The morning air was cool and crisp. Birds were starting to wake up, their songs echoing across the grounds. Harry could see lights coming on in some of Hogwarts' windows - the castle was beginning to stir.

"Harry?" Chiara said, stopping at the edge of the greenhouses. "Would you... would you maybe want to keep me company again next month?"

"Course I will!" Harry grinned. "It was fun! Well, except for the part where you tried to eat me, but that was before I turned into an eagle. And I can practice making better shapes with my mist - maybe next time I can make them look like actual things instead of just simple shapes."

Chiara laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're a very strange person, Harry Potter. Most people would run away screaming if they found out what I am."

"Most people aren't like me," Harry said matter-of-factly. "Besides, you're way less dangerous than most of the professors. If I can get used to their strength, I can get used to you."

Chiara couldn't help but giggle at that comparison.

"Well, I should probably get back to my room before Aunt Min notices I'm gone," Harry said, scuffing his shoe against the stone steps of the castle entrance. "She gets all worried and her lips go all thin when she can't find me at breakfast."

Chiara smiled, though her eyes still looked tired from the long night. "And I need to wait for Madam Pomfrey. She'll want to check me over like always." She hesitated for a moment, then pulled Harry into another quick hug. "Thank you again. For not being scared of me."

"And Harry?" She waited until he looked back at her. "Maybe don't tell anyone else about... this? About helping me?"

Harry nodded seriously. "Course not. It's our secret."

They split up then, Chiara heading toward the hospital wing while Harry transformed and took flight towards his room. He already had some ideas for next month - maybe he could practice making his mist look like little animals for werewolf-Chiara to chase. That would be way more fun than just floating shapes, though he'd have to be very careful she doesn't manage to touch them… On second thought, let's not do that and get eaten.

oo0ooOoo0oo​

Two weeks passed quickly for Harry. Between his lessons, regular painting sessions, firebending and mist control practice, and planning better ways to keep Chiara company next full moon, he barely noticed the time flying by.

He was at his usual spot on the Astronomy Tower, working on a new painting of the Great Lake at sunset. The light was perfect today, all orange and purple, making the water look like it was on fire. He had just finished adding another layer to capture that effect when footsteps behind him made him turn around.

Charlotte stood there, shifting from foot to foot and clutching a worn notebook. Her Gryffindor tie was crooked, and she looked like she hadn't slept much lately.

"Hi Harry," she said, trying to sound casual but failing pretty badly. "Your painting looks really nice."

"Thanks!" Harry beamed, always happy when people noticed his art. "I'm trying something new with the colors. Want to see?"

"Actually..." Charlotte glanced around like she was checking if anyone else was nearby. "I wanted to talk to you about something important. Remember how you helped with the ice vault?"

Harry nodded, putting down his brush. "Yeah, that was fun! Well, except for the ice knights trying to squish us."

Charlotte gave a weak laugh. "Right. Well, I think I figured out what's causing all those Boggarts to show up everywhere. You know how they keep scaring everyone?"

"Yeah, everyone's been really scared lately," Harry said, frowning as he remembered the screams echoing through the halls. His hands clenched slightly, thinking about the Boggart he'd destroyed. That had been scary, even for him. "Lots of people running and crying."

Charlotte twisted her hands together, not quite meeting his eyes. "That's... that's actually why I wanted to talk to you. See, I think all these Boggarts are coming from another vault. Like how the ice was spreading before."

Harry put his paintbrush down carefully, making sure it wouldn't roll off the tower. "Another vault? Is that why there's been so many scary things lately?"

"Yes, exactly!" Charlotte brightened, then seemed to catch herself. Her cheeks went pink as she glanced down at him. "I know you're... well, you're younger than most people I'd ask for help, but you were really brave with the ice vault. And your fire worked really well..."

"How come you're not asking Bill or Penny?" Harry asked, head tilted. "They helped last time too."

Charlotte's face fell slightly. "Oh, well... they're busy with exams and..." She trailed off, then sighed. "Actually, they're not really talking to me right now. After the ice vault, everyone started whispering about how it's all happening again, just like with Jacob, and..."

She stopped, biting her lip. Harry noticed her eyes looked a bit watery.

"Your brother got in trouble for the vaults before, right?" Harry asked. "And now people think you're making more trouble?"

Charlotte nodded miserably. "Everyone keeps saying I'm going to get expelled just like him. Even Bill and Penny have been avoiding me lately. But I have to figure this out - these vaults are dangerous! I can't just ignore them because people are being mean."

Harry considered this. He didn't like seeing his friends scared by Boggarts, and Charlotte looked really sad standing there all alone. Plus, his journal had mentioned something about a fear vault...

"Okay," he said. "I'll help. But we gotta be really careful - I don't want anyone else getting hurt like last time."

"Thanks Harry," Charlotte smiled at him. "Come on, let's do this quickly - I already know where to look."

They started walking to the library, with Harry feeling a bit unsure about the whole thing. "Won't we get in trouble if we're caught?"

Charlotte shook her head. "The general library's still open for another hour, so we just need to be careful. I've got a plan to deal with Madam Pince."

When they entered the library, Charlotte pulled out a small paper airplane from her robes. Harry peered at it curiously. "What's that for?"

A mischievous smile spread across Charlotte's face. "It's a fake note from Professor McGonagall. Says there's an emergency meeting about some first-years stealing books from the restricted section." She tapped the paper airplane with her wand, and it zoomed off towards Madam Pince's desk.

They watched from behind a bookshelf as Madam Pince read the note. She let out an exasperated sigh, waved her wand to tidy up some books, and headed for the exit. Harry held his breath as she walked past their hiding spot, only relaxing when she was gone.

Charlotte led them past studying students towards the Restricted Section. She had just reached for her wand when a familiar voice made Charlotte groan audibly.

"Following me again, Whitewood?"

Merula Snyde stood there with her arms crossed, wearing her usual sneer. Next to her was Ismelda, who always reminded Harry of those creepy dolls some of the older students collected with her black hair and black eyeliner.

Charlotte turned around slowly. "What do you want, Merula?" Her voice had the same tone Aunt Min used when dealing with particularly annoying students.

"I want what's inside the Cursed Vault," Merula said. "Same as you. Just for a much less pitiful reason."

Ismelda's lips curled into an unsettling smile. "I just want to watch you bleed."

Before Harry could process that disturbing statement, spells started flying. Charlotte disarmed Merula with a quick Expelliarmus, but then had to block Ismelda's Flipendo with a shield charm.

Harry watched the duel from the side, biting his lips. He didn't like fighting other students – the last time it led to lectures about responsibility and morals. But he couldn't just stand there while his friend faced two at once...

Making up his mind, Harry focused on converting some of his magic into mist. He kept it low to the ground, sending it creeping towards Ismelda while everyone was distracted by Merula's Incendio spell, which Charlotte countered with a charm that spewed water out of her wand and doused the fire.

The mist reached Ismelda just as she raised her wand again. Her eyes widened as the first tendril of fear hit her, and she stumbled backward. The mist thickened around her legs, forming a cube that moved with her no matter how she tried to escape.

Charlotte took advantage of Ismelda's panic, knocking her into a bookshelf with a well-aimed Flipendo. Merula barely got out "Stup-" before the mist reached her legs too, making her hesitate just long enough for Charlotte to stun her.

A second Stupefy took care of Ismelda, and suddenly their part of the library was quiet again except for their breathing.

"That was brilliant," Charlotte said, lowering her wand. "But we should hurry - someone probably heard all that."

Harry nodded, already wondering if Grandpa would consider this self-defense or not. Hopefully he never finds out...

He had just walked past the gates Charlotte unlocked with the Alohomora charm when his green eyes darkened.

[Enchanted Gear - The Elder Scrolls: Dovah] – Costs 50CP, 200CP available to spend.

Only fools go around without the very best equipment they can acquire, and you are no fool. Upon any item you own, you may add a single, powerful enchantment with each purchase of this option. This cannot be used to acquire unique enchantments, such as the effect of Mehrunes' Razor. This option may be taken multiple times, at a discount after the first purchase.

May Be Purchased 4X

"Hey, can we stop for a minute?" Harry asked, tugging on Charlotte's sleeve. "I need to check something real quick. Private stuff."

Charlotte glanced around the dark shelves of the Restricted Section nervously. "Alright, but make it fast. Madam Pince won't stay away forever."

Harry nodded and turned away, letting his mind focus on the offer floating in his thoughts. Another special (one-time use) power - and this one let him make things magical! Like how the professors enchanted stuff to float or move or do cool things.

He could pick anything he owned to make special. His paintbrushes maybe? Or one of his robes? But then he remembered that he sometimes lost small things like paintbrushes, and he couldn't always wear the same set of robes, right?

What did he have that was always by his side?

The Hero's Journal! It was part of his soul now - even if someone stole the actual book, he could just pull it back inside himself. And it was already magical, writing down his adventures and giving him hints. Making it even more special couldn't hurt, right?

Besides, the journal was his friend in a way. It helped him figure out stuff about Chiara and the vaults. It deserved something nice.

Harry grinned, deciding that yes, he definitely wanted this power. And yes, the journal would be perfect for his first enchantment.

Item Chosen: [ The Hero's Journal ]

Choose Enchantment(s) to be applied to [ The Hero's Journal ]

• Reduce Magic Cost In [Alteration, Conjuration, Destruction, Illusion, Restoration] Spells By 50%
• Fortify Skill In [Alchemy, Archery, Barter, Block, Heavy Armor, Light Armor, Lockpicking, One-Handed, Pickpocket, Smithing, Sneak, Two-Handed, Unarmed] By 50%
• Fortify [Health, Magic, Stamina] by 20%
• Fortify [Health Regen, Magic Regen, Stamina Regen] by 100%
• Resist [Disease, Poison] by 100%
• Resist [Fire, Frost, Shock] by 50%
• Resist Magic by 20%
• Muffle Footsteps
• Underwater Breathing

 

[ptbptb]

OK, I didn't mention this before but

He mysteriously disappeared after he was expelled from Hogwarts because of the Cursed Vaults.

Click to shrink...

That's not much of a reason to be expelled. Like, Hagrid was expelled not so much because 'of the Chamber of Secrets' but because somebody died and he was framed for it. So was Jacob blamed for somebody dying? Was he blamed for opening the Cursed Vaults and getting curses everywhere? Or was he expelled for some completely different thing and then disappeared because of the vaults (the sentence is ambiguous)?

 

[Evoxius]

OK, I didn't mention this before but

That's not much of a reason to be expelled. Like, Hagrid was expelled not so much because 'of the Chamber of Secrets' but because somebody died and he was framed for it. So was Jacob blamed for somebody dying? Was he blamed for opening the Cursed Vaults and getting curses everywhere? Or was he expelled for some completely different thing and then disappeared because of the vaults (the sentence is ambiguous)?

Click to shrink...

There's of course a deeper reasoning behind it, but it's a bit morbid and not something Penny wanted to tell a young child.

 

[Evoxius]

Item Chosen: [ The Hero's Journal ]

Choose Enchantment(s) to be applied to [ The Hero's Journal ]

• Reduce Magic Cost In [Alteration, Conjuration, Destruction, Illusion, Restoration] Spells By 50%
• Fortify Skill In [Alchemy, Archery, Barter, Block, Heavy Armor, Light Armor, Lockpicking, One-Handed, Pickpocket, Smithing, Sneak, Two-Handed, Unarmed] By 50%
• Fortify [Health, Magic, Stamina] by 20%
• Fortify [Health Regen, Magic Regen, Stamina Regen] by 100%
• Resist [Disease, Poison] by 100%
• Resist [Fire, Frost, Shock] by 50%
• Resist Magic by 20%
• Muffle Footsteps
• Underwater Breathing

He read through the first option about reducing magic costs. The words were a bit confusing - what was Alteration supposed to be? But some made sense - Restoration had to be healing spells, like what Madam Poppy used. Destruction sounded like Defense spells, and Conjuration was probably like Transfiguration. Maybe Illusion was what his mist counted as?

It would be nice to use less magic when making his mist, but he rarely ran out of magic unless he was practicing for a full hour. Even in the library just now, he'd only needed a little mist to help Charlotte. Maybe not worth picking, especially since he'd trained his control over his mist so much. It would have been useful in the past when he needed to convert the majority of his magic into mist that randomly spread towards places, but not now.

The skill improvements were next. Harry perked up at seeing Alchemy - that was what Grandpa was famous for! But the rest... who needed archery when you had magic? And what even was 'barter'?

Block and armor skills seemed pointless for a wizard. Lockpicking made no sense when unlocking charms existed. And pickpocketing? Harry wrinkled his nose - stealing was something that only existed in his fiction books, and he already had everything he needed anyway.

He held up first one hand, then both, trying to figure out what One-Handed and Two-Handed skills meant. Unarmed fighting might be useful, but he preferred using his fire from a slightly safer distance. And sneaking? He could just turn into an eagle if he needed to be sneaky.

The health, magic, and stamina improvements sounded good at first, but 20% didn't seem like much. And the regeneration options... well, Madam Poppy could fix any injuries, and sleeping already helped him recover his magic. Though getting his magic back faster did sound useful for when he was practicing...

Then Harry saw it - complete protection from diseases and poisons. His heart skipped a beat as he remembered what Aunt Min had told him about his grandparents dying from Dragon Pox. No way was he going to let some tiny invisible thing kill him! And poison... well, there were still dark wizards out there who might try to hurt him. It had already happened once that he knew of, so this would keep him safe.

"Those two for sure," Harry whispered to himself.

Fire, frost and shock resistance... Lightning wasn't really a problem, and he could warm himself up if he got cold. But fire resistance… While he didn't usually worry about burning himself with his firebending - it felt as natural as breathing now - having extra protection would let him practice even harder. Plus, lots of wizards used fire spells.

But what really made him grin was the magic resistance. Being able to shrug off spells, even a little bit? That would be brilliant! He could just imagine some mean Slytherin trying to make him cough up toads and nothing happening. Well, he hoped it worked that way and it didn't make him spit out 20% less toads.

For his last choice, Harry kept coming back to Alchemy. Sure, the magic regeneration would be nice, and fire resistance was tempting... but being more like Grandpa? That was special.

Harry nodded to himself, feeling confident in his choices. His Hero's Journal would protect him from poisons and diseases, help him resist magic, and make him better at Alchemy - just like Grandpa Dumbledore. That felt right. Though he had a feeling that he'd need to actually wear or carry the journal for the enchantments to work... He will just ask Aunt Min for a belt or something so he could keep it at his side later.

Enchantments Applied to Chosen Item [ The Hero's Journal ]:
Poison Resistance 100%
Disease Resistance 100%
Magic Resistance 20%
Fortify Skill in Alchemy by 50%

"I'm done," he whispered to Charlotte. "Sorry for taking so long. Let's go find that vault!"

Charlotte looked relieved. "Finally! Come on, we need to hurry before Madam Pince gets back."

They walked deeper into the Restricted Section, where the torches barely seemed to light anything at all. The shadows felt thicker here, almost alive, and the books seemed to whisper as they passed. Some of them were even chained to their shelves.

Charlotte shivered slightly. "Look at this place! You'd think students would need advanced Defence against the Dark Arts training to enter..."

"Why?" Harry asked, keeping his voice low. "It's just a library, right?"

Charlotte let out a quiet snort. "There's forbidden spells, explosive potion recipes, dangerous secrets and who knows what else here. I don't know why they keep it so unguarded to be honest."

Harry nodded at that, before shrugging. He didn't really understand grown-ups sometimes. They'd tell him not to fly into classrooms because it was dangerous, but then leave scary books just sitting around where anyone could find them.

"So where's the entrance?" he whispered, eyeing a book that seemed to be dripping something dark onto the shelf below it.

"My brother's notebook we found in the Ice Vault is the key," Charlotte said, pulling out the worn journal. "I don't actually know how, but it should be in this corner somewhere."

"We should split up and look for empty spots where the journal could fit," she added, already moving to search the left side of the shelves.

Harry nodded and turned to the right side. It was way too dark to see properly, so he created a small flame in his left palm. The firelight made the shadows dance weirdly on the walls, and some of the books seemed to shift away from the light.

He was starting to think this wasn't such a good idea when he spotted it - a rectangular gap between two massive books, just the right size for Charlotte's journal.

"Over here!" he called softly. "I found something!"

Charlotte hurried over, her eyes lighting up when she saw the space. "That's perfect!"

She stretched up on her tiptoes and then jumped slightly, journal in hand. The moment she pushed it into the gap, before her feet even touched the ground again, inky black shadows shot out from between the books. They wrapped around both children like dark ribbons, and suddenly the floor wasn't there anymore.

Harry barely had time to yelp before they were pulled down into darkness.

oo0ooOoo0oo​

The fall seemed to last forever and no time at all. Then suddenly they crashed onto cold stone floor, Harry landing on his bottom while Charlotte managed to catch herself in a crouch.

"Ow," Harry muttered, rubbing his sore behind as he looked around. The room they'd landed in was huge and dark, with walls that seemed to stretch up forever into blackness. Thick stone pillars rose up like giant tree trunks, covered in carvings that writhed and shifted when you looked at them too long. The air felt wrong somehow - heavy and sticky, like breathing through syrup.

Charlotte made a choked sound beside him. Her face had gone very pale as she stared at their surroundings, her hands shaking as she compulsively straightened her red tie. "This... this isn't..."

Harry watched her curiously. His instincts weren't screaming danger yet, which was weird given how scary everything looked. But maybe that meant the room itself wasn't actually dangerous? Like those Halloween decorations the professors sometimes put up.

"At least we didn't break anything in the landing?" Charlotte tried to joke, her voice wobbling slightly. "Though I think my pride might need-"

She cut off with a gasp as inky black shadows suddenly poured from the walls like water, flooding the room until only the space around them remained clear. The shadows writhed and twisted, then started gathering into three distinct shapes in front of them.

Harry's eyes widened as the shadows formed into three identical figures. Each was impossibly tall and thin, like someone had stretched a person out too far. Their black robes seemed to eat the light around them, making it hard to look directly at them. But their faces - Harry had never seen anything like them. Chalk-white skin pulled tight over skull-like features, flat snake-like nose, and eyes that glowed red like hot coals.

Charlotte made a strangled sound beside him. Her wand hand was shaking so badly Harry thought she might drop it. "No," she whispered. "Not him. Please not him."

The middle figure raised a bone-white wand. When it spoke, its voice was high and cold, like winter wind through dead trees. "Avada Kedavra!"

Green light filled the chamber. Harry felt himself yanked upward by an invisible hand around his throat. His feet kicked uselessly in the air as one of the figures held him suspended with its wand. The red eyes studied him with cruel interest, like a cat watching a mouse it had caught.

Harry's first instinct was to use his mist - he could already feel his magic starting to shift and cool. But something felt... off. His instincts weren't screaming at him like it should if this dark wizard-

"They're just Boggarts!" Charlotte's voice cracked with panic. "Harry, don't panic - they can't really hurt us!"

The mist coming from his hand slowly disappeared. He remembered what happened last time with the Boggart in his room, how the feedback loop had made everything go crazy... But how could a Boggart use spells? That didn't make sense.

The figure holding Harry snarled, a sound no human throat should make. The pressure around Harry's neck tightened. Charlotte raised her wand, hand still trembling. "R-riddikulus!"

Nothing happened. The spell seemed to slide right off the figure's robes. Charlotte's eyes went wide with horror.

"No no no," she muttered, backing away. "That always works. It has to work!"

The other two figures glided forward, raising their wands. Green light started building at their tips. Charlotte screamed and cast again, putting everything she had into it. "RIDDIKULUS!"

This time the spell struck true. The figure holding Harry transformed, black robes becoming a garish polka-dot clown suit. He dropped Harry with a surprised squawk as a red rubber nose appeared on his snake-like face.

Harry landed hard but rolled to his feet, already moving toward Charlotte. She cast the spell two more times in rapid succession, turning the remaining figures into equally ridiculous clowns. They danced and bounced around, looking completely absurd with their skull-white faces topped by rainbow wigs.

"Are you okay?" Charlotte grabbed Harry's shoulders, checking his neck frantically. "I'm so sorry - they shouldn't have been able to do that. Boggarts can't cast real spells!"

"I'm fine," Harry assured her, though his throat felt a bit sore. "Who was that supposed to be anyway? The scary snake man?"

Charlotte's face went pale again. "That was... that was You-Know-Who. The dark wizard who..." She trailed off, glancing at Harry.

"Oh." Harry kept staring at the dancing clowns, but they didn't seem funny anymore. This was him. The monster who killed his mum and dad. The reason he grew up without parents, watching other kids get hugged by their parents while he didn't get to have them.

His hands clenched into fists. The clowns looked silly with their rainbow wigs and red noses, but Harry could still see those red eyes underneath, cold and cruel like a snake's. He thought of the few photos he had of his parents - his dad's messy hair, his mum's kind smile. Gone forever because of the man these Boggarts had become.

Something hot and angry burned in his chest. It wasn't fair. He'd never even gotten to know them. Never got to hear his mum sing him to sleep or have his dad teach him to fly. All because of this... this thing that looked barely human.

Charlotte must have noticed something in his face because she reached for his hand. "Harry..."

But before she could finish, the clowns suddenly melted away into the shadows coating the floor. The darkness seemed to pulse, like a heart beating.

Charlotte grabbed her head with both hands, swaying. "Something's wrong," she whispered. "This feels like... Jacob?"

"Charlotte?" Harry reached for her arm, trying to push away thoughts of his parents. His friend needed help.

"I don't understand," she mumbled, staring at nothing. "Why are you telling me this?"

The chamber shuddered, stones grinding against each other. The shadows began flowing together again, building up into another You-Know-Who. But this one was different - its face twisted with very human emotions as it raised its wand...

oo0ooOoo0oo​

Note:

Harry doesn't know this, but the "Fortify Skill in Alchemy by 50%" effect applies to Potions. In Skyrim, Alchemy refers to potion-making, so it will increase his skill in that area, not Alchemy as it is known in Harry Potter. This will have some surprising effects in the future, as a well-known potion with a complete recipe increasing in potency by 50% would put him well into the territory of prodigies.

 

[Evoxius]

The new Voldemort looked different. Its face showed fear, anger, even confusion - emotions that made it seem more human somehow. But that just made it scarier.

"That's not possible," Charlotte whispered, her eyes wide. "Boggarts can't-"

The figure slashed its wand through the air. Charlotte barely managed to dive away as a sickly purple spell blasted a chunk out of the wall behind her.

"Those are real spells!" she shouted, scrambling behind a pillar. "Harry, be careful! This isn't normal Boggart behavior!"

Another spell - deep red this time - shattered the stone where Charlotte had been standing. She rolled out from behind the pillar, her wand moving in complex patterns. "Bombarda! Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!"

The spells bounced harmlessly off a transparent shield. The Boggart-Voldemort's lips curved into a cruel smile.

"We need to move faster," Charlotte muttered. Then, to Harry's amazement, she shrank and twisted until a black and white cat stood in her place. The cat darted between pillars as more spells crashed around it.

"You're an Animagus too?" Harry yelped, then had to transform himself as a jet of orange light nearly hit him. His eagle form took to the air, wings spread wide as he circled overhead.

The cat that was Charlotte paused just long enough to transform back and fire more spells before becoming feline again. "Learned it last month... trying to find... my brother!" she called between transformations.

For a few moments, they seemed to have the advantage. Charlotte was incredibly quick, switching forms to attack and dodge while Harry distracted their opponent from above. But then a cutting curse caught Charlotte mid-transformation. She crashed to the ground with a cry of pain, blood seeping through her robes.

Harry transformed back to human form and spun, kicking out to send a ring of orange fire at the Boggart. But it just raised its wand lazily. "Protego."

The flames washed harmlessly over the magical barrier. Harry frowned and took to the air again, searching for an opening. Below him, Charlotte was getting desperate...

The battle grew more intense. Charlotte transfigured chunks of fallen stone into wolves, but they shattered like glass against the Boggart's spells. She conjured a wall of steel that lasted barely seconds before being blasted apart.

"Nothing's working right!" she yelled, blood dripping from cuts on her arms and legs.

Harry saw his chance when the Boggart blocked Charlotte's Confringo with another shield charm. He transformed mid-dive, landing behind the creature, and unleashed a continuous stream of flames from both palms. The Boggart-Voldemort screamed as fire consumed its robes, revealing blackened flesh underneath.

But then it raised its wand. "Flamma Glacius!"

Harry's flames still poured out, but they no longer seemed to hurt the creature at all. A large hole in its robes showed burned skin, but the Flame-Freezing Charm had stopped any further damage.

"No fair!" Harry shouted. His fire had worked on the cursed ice, but one simple charm made it useless? That wasn't right!

Charlotte tried to take advantage of the distraction. "Expelliarmus!"

The Boggart simply leaned aside, the spell missing by inches. Then it spun, wand flashing, and Charlotte flew backwards into a pillar with a sickening thud.

"Charlotte!" Harry tried to run to her, but steel chains burst from the Boggart's wand, wrapping around him. He tried to transform into his eagle form, but the chains just shrank with him, squeezing tighter.

Forced to change back, Harry could only watch helplessly as Charlotte struggled to stand. Blood ran down her face now too. She kept fighting, but her spells were getting weaker. The Boggart was toying with her, letting her fire off spells before hitting her with new cutting curses.

"Crucio!"

Charlotte's scream echoed through the chamber as she collapsed, thrashing on the ground. Harry had never heard anyone make sounds like that before. It was worse than when Draco got hit by that dark curse in the Ministry. Somehow worse than anything he'd ever heard, even the Boggart from last time.

"Stop it!" Harry shouted, struggling against the chains. "Leave her alone!"

The Boggart-Voldemort just laughed - a high, cold sound that made Harry's skin crawl. It lifted the curse for a moment, letting Charlotte gasp for air, then cast it again. Her back arched as she screamed even louder than before.

Harry felt something inside him snap. Charlotte's screams echoed in his head, making his chest hurt and his eyes burn. He'd promised not to use his mist on Boggarts, but promises didn't matter anymore. Not when his friend was being hurt like that.

The mist poured out of him in waves, darker than he'd ever made it before. His body felt heavy and cold as more and more of his magic turned into the thick black fog. It rolled across the floor like storm clouds, reaching for the Boggart who had finally stopped hurting Charlotte.

The moment his mist touched it, Harry knew this was different somehow from the other Boggart. This Boggart, which was greatly more powerful than it was supposed to be, was now being shown its own fears. The mist seeped into it like water into a sponge.

The feedback started with tiny things. The Boggart became a worm, scared of birds. Then it turned into a mouse, terrified of cats. But each new shape brought new fears, making it change faster and faster. Fish scared of sharks. Deer scared of wolves. Dragons scared of wizards.

Harry's head started hurting as his mist got darker and thicker still. The Boggart's screams sounded wrong, like hundreds of different animals all crying out at once. It kept changing - becoming bigger things, scarier things. Giants afraid of mountains falling. Demons afraid of angels. Gods afraid of other gods.

"Harry!" Charlotte's voice barely reached him over the noise. "The shadows are moving!"

The darkness on the walls was being pulled toward the center where his mist spun around the Boggart like a tornado. The Boggart stretched and twisted, trying to become everything it was afraid of all at once. Then it turned into something that made Harry's stomach feel funny - a huge dark circle that pulled at everything around it. Not like regular pulling, but like it was hungry for fear itself.

BOOM!

The explosion knocked Harry into the wall. When he could see again, the room was different. The ceiling and half of the walls were just... gone. He could see the night sky and half a moon above them. They weren't in a room anymore - they were on the side of a mountain!

Harry could see Hogwarts nearby, but something was wrong. Dark shapes were being pulled out of the castle, flying through the air toward the black circle that used to be the Boggart. More shadows were coming from everywhere, all of them getting sucked in.

"Jacob says we have to finish this," Charlotte mumbled, crawling toward what was left of the middle pillar on which was inscribed "THE ULTIMATE SACRIFICE MUST BE MADE" on a dull plaque. "We have to die..."

Harry tore his eyes away from the growing black circle. "No!" He grabbed Charlotte's wand hand before she could do anything silly. "That's not what it means!"

Charlotte blinked a few times, looking confused. "My wand... why was I...?" She shook her head and pulled out her brother's broken wand. When she touched it to the pillar, it opened up like a door. She quickly grabbed something from inside - looked like a map and an arrow - and stuffed them in her bag.

"Harry!" She pointed at the black circle. "It's getting bigger!"

Harry saw she was right - the hungry circle was growing, pulling in more and more shadows from everywhere. "Quick! Turn into a cat! I'll carry you!"

Charlotte nodded and changed shape. Harry transformed too, carefully grabbing her cat form with his eagle talons before flapping hard to get them both in the air and far away.

From up high, Harry could see everything with his sharp eagle eyes. The sky was full of dark shapes racing toward the circle like leaves in the wind. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.

Then suddenly, Harry felt the last bit of his mist fade away. The connection broke like a snapped string, and the hungry circle made a sound that shouldn't exist - like a scream going backwards. The dark shadows stopped flowing into it, hanging in the air for just a moment before the circle collapsed.

Harry almost dropped Charlotte as the circle crushed itself smaller and smaller, becoming a tiny dot of pure black. Then it exploded upward into a beam of darkness wider than Hogwarts itself. The beam shot into the night sky, pushing aside clouds and making the stars disappear where it touched them.

It was the biggest, scariest thing Harry had ever seen. Like someone had taken all the shadows in the world and turned them into a giant pillar reaching up forever. He could feel it pulling at him even from far away, not like regular pulling but like it wanted to eat his fear the same way he needed to eat food.

The beam stayed there for only a few seconds. Harry's wings were getting tired from fighting against its pull, and Charlotte's cat form was very still in his claws. Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the beam started breaking apart. It dissolved into wisps of shadow that faded away into nothing, leaving behind a mountain that looked like something huge had taken a bite out of it.

Where the vault had been was now just a giant hole. The stone was smooth and black, like it had been melted by something incredibly hot. Parts of the mountainside had collapsed, sending rocks tumbling down toward the forest below.

Harry glided down to a nearby hill, carefully setting Charlotte down before changing back himself. His whole body felt very heavy and cold, like he'd used up too much magic. But more than that, he felt scared. Not of anything specific - just scared of how big and dangerous that beam had been. Of what might have happened if it hadn't gone away. How close he was to dying.

"We should probably tell Grandpa Dumbledore about this," he said quietly, watching more of the mountain fall into the new crater.

Charlotte changed back to human form, clutching her bag with the map and arrow inside. She looked as tired and scared as Harry felt. "Yeah," she agreed. "We really should."

"Can you walk?" Harry asked, noticing how Charlotte winced when she moved. The cuts from the Boggart's spells were still bleeding.

Charlotte nodded but stumbled when she tried to stand. "Just... give me a minute."

Harry sat down next to her, his legs feeling wobbly too. The moon was bright enough to see the damage clearly now. The crater in the mountain was huge, way way bigger than the Quidditch pitch. Parts of it were still falling in, making rumbling sounds that reminded Harry of thunder.

"I shouldn't have used my mist on the Boggart," Harry said, pulling his knees up to his chest. "I promised not to, but it was hurting you really bad. I couldn't just sit there and do nothing."

Charlotte gave him a weak smile. "I think this was different. That wasn't a normal Boggart. Did you see how it could cast spells? And..." She shivered. "And use the Cruciatus Curse?"

Harry didn't know what that curse was called, but he remembered her screams. His chest felt tight thinking about it. "Is that what it felt like? When You-Know-Who did those things to people?"

"I don't know. My parents never..." Charlotte trailed off, looking at the castle. "We should go. Headmaster Dumbledore needs to know about this."

They helped each other stand up. Harry was about to suggest flying them both back when a quiet voice behind them made them both jump.

"I believe I already do."

They spun around to find Dumbledore standing there, his blue eyes not twinkling at all as he looked from them to the destroyed mountainside.

"Now then," he said calmly, "perhaps you two can explain exactly what happened to the mountain?"

 

[biolante2]

Loving the story so far. Also you upload so quick! I quite enjoy the consistently quick updates. Keep up the good work!