Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the intellectual property associated with Harry Potter.
Hi all,
Here's the next chapter. I have been reading reviews, and I realised that I should have mentioned something earlier. Hogwarts students do not start until they turn thirteen, so Harry has not missed out on any schooling.
All Patrons get access to chapters early.
Pokemon: Way of Life has four chapters ahead of fanfiction.
Harry Potter: A Mage's Path has five chapters ahead of fanfiction.
Harry Potter: The Artisan's Path has two chapters ahead of fanfiction.
If you want to become a patron, head over to Pat re on and add a /GamerFiction after the com.
Chapter 2
A twelve-year-old boy was making his way through the streets, intent on reaching his destination. After so many years in the neighbourhood, he knew it was one of the safest times to traverse the streets without running into one of the local gangs. It was a low-income neighbourhood that was primarily supported by a meat factory, which employed a fair amount of the locals.
Unfortunately, there was a lot of criminal activity in the area. The police did their part, but the issues were too systemic that it would take major government intervention to fix. If they were even interested in cleaning up the area at all, that is.
His name was Harry Evans, and he was an orphan who lived in a small orphanage. He was blonde and blue-eyed, with a set of unfortunate features that weren't very appealing. Due to this, he was never able to be adopted. It was undeniable that kids with aesthetically pleasing features were the first to be considered for adoption. Therefore, he had spent his entire life watching other kids being chosen over him.
Harry was heading to a local junk store. He did some business with the owner, a grumpy man named Lewis. He was a miser, but he did provide him with the opportunity to earn some money. The orphanage provided basic food and clothing and nothing more. It operated on a tight budget, so there was no room for frivolities or presents. It didn't help that the matron, Mrs Figg, would rather spend any extra money on her cats than on the kids.
Harry was skilled with his hands and loved to take things apart to figure out how they worked. That curiosity led him to develop a number of skills. He first applied his knowledge to fixing things around the orphanage but soon ran out of things to repair. It wasn't something he wanted to continue doing anyway, as he got no compensation for his work. Growing up as he did, he learned how to be self-reliant and to know his own value. Thus, he looked elsewhere to see if he could earn some money.
His search led him to Lewis. One of the man's methods of making a profit was to purchase or scavenge some broken items cheaply. Lewis paid Harry a small fee for repairing them and profited from selling them in his store. Harry was underage and wasn't legally allowed to work, but in these circumstances, you ignore such inconsequential things to get by.
Harry pushed the door open, and the bell rang above him. Lewis was at the counter, watching a television that was set on the counter. He was watching a rerun of a Chelsea football match.
"Goddammit, you bloody useless wankers," Lewis cursed. He reached in and grabbed a few crisps from a bag on the counter and shoved them into his mouth. His grey beard was littered with crumbs, and there was a stain on his shirt from an unknown substance. It was not Lewis' nature to be concerned about hygiene.
"Why are you watching a rerun of the last season?" Harry propped his arms on the counter and observed the match.
"Because I am a bloody masochist, and I have nothing better to do," Lewis groused, reaching out and switching off the television. "Ever since my wife left me, the shop has been my life, which is a really sad state of affairs."
"Too bad. I liked Julie. She was way out of your league, though."
"Little brat, I may not be a prize, but I don't see any girls knocking down your door."
"Eh, I can't be bothered with girls. The ones I have interacted with are mean as hell," Harry replied. He spotted another unopened bag of crisps, and quick as a wink, he stole it. Opening the bag, he began munching on the snack.
"Well, if you start committing more crimes like stealing my food," Lewis glared at the boy. "Then they may start paying more attention to you. Girls like bad boys."
"Is that advice you should be giving a kid?"
"I'm sorry. Do I look like someone who cares about such things?"
Harry shrugged. "So, what job do you have for me today?"
"Wait just a moment," Lewis said, retreating through the back door. "I will get it. Keep an eye on the store."
Harry browsed through the wares while he waited. There was barely any space to move around in, as the store was filled to the brim with every item imaginable. Most of it had been sitting there for an age, but there was some stuff that had been added recently. He made his way over to the comic book section to see if the man had anything that he would like. His eyes were immediately drawn to a comic that was displayed front and centre. The old geezer had been holding out on him.
The Uncanny X-Men Annual #14. It was one of two issues where his favourite character, Gambit, made his debut. It had been released a few years ago, but he had never gotten his hands on a copy. He reached out and reverently picked up the comic.
"Get your greedy mitts off that," Lewis said from behind him, causing Harry to jump. He turned around with the comic clutched to his chest.
"How much?" Harry demanded.
"Hmm. I can give it to you for thirty pounds," Lewis grinned.
"That's highway robbery," Harry said, looking at the comic with a longing expression. He didn't really play it cool. His desperation was evident, which gave the old man the temerity to charge an outrageous price.
Harry looked at the object in Lewis' arms, which was an old antique mantel clock. As far as design was concerned, it looked Edwardian, with a small square frame crafted from sandalwood. On the front, the clock face was encircled with decorative gold plating.
"How much am I getting to fix that?"
"Five pounds," Lewis answered.
"Lewis, must we repeat this song and dance every time? That looks like a valuable antique. Let me guess how much you're planning to sell it for. One hundred pounds? One fifty?" Harry asked. "I will do it for twenty pounds."
"Ten pounds," Lewis countered.
"Give me the comic, and then you get your clock fixed," Harry said.
"Fine," Lewis smirked. Harry got the feeling he had undervalued his work, but since the comic was so awesome, he let it go.
Lewis handed over the clock. "Be careful with this thing. I already have an interested buyer."
Harry walked around the counter and took off his backpack. He grabbed a small tool case that held an assortment of his tools. He had collected them over a number of years from second-hand stores like this one and by scrounging through old junkyards. They were his most valuable possessions besides his parents' necklace.
'So what's wrong with it?" Harry asked, opening up the back where the mechanisms were located.
"I think there is something broken inside. Also, it's stiffened up, and the parts don't move properly," Lewis said. "I sprayed it with some CRC, but it didn't make a difference."
"Dude, that won't work. The oil inside has gummed up and needs to be cleaned properly. Don't add any more junk to it."
"You're the expert," Lewis replied.
Since there may be a broken piece inside, Harry decided to dismantle the entire thing and thoroughly inspect it. He began by opening the glass case on the front that protected the clock face. The hands were held in place by a threaded collar, so he was able to unscrew them by hand. Harry placed the clock hands to the side and turned the clock around. He opened up the back where the movement was housed, which was the body containing all the mechanical parts. He grabbed a screwdriver and started removing the screws that secured the movement to the inside of the frame.
That was the easy part. Harry did a quick inspection to see if he could find anything obvious, but the back plate made it impossible to see everything. He tested the chimes by touching the triggers, and one failed to turn. It meant that he would have to dismantle the entire thing, which would take some time.
"Lewis, I need some petrol if I am going to be able to get the oil out of this thing," Harry called.
"There's a can out the back. Make sure to clean it outside," Lewis said.
In the backyard, Harry dumped some petrol in a small container before he began to dismantle the movement. He noticed that a lot of oil had been added to the back plate, which probably contributed to the clock not functioning properly. As he worked, his tongue poked out, a mannerism that appeared whenever he was concentrating on something.
Since he was working with his hands, it was hard not to notice the symbol of a book that was on his left hand. It had first appeared this morning, and he almost rubbed the back of his hand raw, trying to remove it. He thought that maybe the other orphans had drawn it on his hand when he was sleeping, but that was unlikely. First of all, the symbol was too detailed for a kid to draw it so neatly on such an uneven surface. Secondly, the kids had never played such a prank on him before, and it was a strange choice besides.
Two hours later, Harry was back inside, and he finished putting the clock back together. He tested it, and the pendulum began swinging, and his face lit up with a satisfied smile. There was no better feeling than putting your skills to the test and making something work again. Fortunately, there was nothing broken but a loose gear that was easily fixed. Otherwise, he would have to try and find a replacement part.
A sudden flash of light erupted from the symbol on Harry's hand, and he flinched, startled. The symbol was glowing a soft green, which really freaked Harry out. Was he hallucinating?
He reached out with his right hand and touched it tentatively. Suddenly, a book appeared out of nowhere, and Harry was so shocked he almost let it fall to the floor. Harry turned his head to see if Lewis had witnessed the appearance, but he was occupied with a customer. There was no indication from them that they had seen anything. Harry quickly threw the book into his bag. Whatever it was, it could wait for later.
After the customer had left, Harry handed the clock over to Lewis. "I fixed it."
The old man didn't take his word for it and inspected it carefully. Lewis nodded in satisfaction when he saw it was working properly and handed the comic to him. "Great work as usual, kid."
"I need to get back to the orphanage," Harry announced, placing the comic in his backpack and dashing to the door.
"Hey, what's the rush?" Lewis called after him.
Running back to the orphanage took him ten minutes, and Harry slowed down as he approached the gate. The orphanage was a two-storey brick building in the middle of a residential area. It held up to twenty orphans at any time, but it was usually closer to ten. Harry stepped through the iron gate and stopped as he saw a familiar figure standing there.
"Harry, where have you been?" Mrs Figg, the matron of the orphanage, asked. Her expression was thunderous.
Harry shrugged innocently, "Just having a look around town."
"Class started two hours ago," Mrs Figg grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door.
"I am already ahead of my studies," Harry protested.
The orphans were homeschooled, although Harry didn't understand the reason why. He was sure that the quality of teaching was substandard compared to an actual school, but it was no skin off his nose. It left him more time to pursue his interests and earn money.
"That's no excuse," Matron Figg scolded him. She marched him down the hallway and entered her office. As soon as the boy was seated, she sat behind her desk. One of her cats, Snowy, meowed from her perch on the windowsill.
"We have had this discussion before," Matron Figg said. "Your circumstances are not ideal, I admit, but if you want to rise above them, you must put your best foot forward."
What followed was a long lecture about responsibility. Harry had heard the speech so often that he could almost quote it verbatim. For some reason, the matron liked to single him out among the kids at the orphanage, even though he didn't do anything specifically wrong except skip some classes. It seemed to him that she seemed to take some pleasure in lecturing him, but he may just be the unlucky one that she decided to single out.
With a sickening smile, Matron Figg said, "Remember that you have your parents' necklace to remind you to do better. If they were watching you right now, then they must be pretty disappointed with your behaviour right now."
Harry raised his head from where he had been looking at his shoes. He had stopped listening to her speech a while ago, but the last part was something new and caught his attention. It infuriated him that the woman would dare to speak to him like that.
"Excuse me? How would you know how my parents think or feel? Did you know them? Please keep your stupid comments to yourself in the future."
Harry stood up and walked out of the room, ignoring her calls to stop. What an infuriating woman. How dare she lecture him on morality when she herself did the bare minimum to take care of the kids? As he climbed the stairs, he touched the necklace again in reference.
It was an elegant piece of jade that was encased in mesh and secured to a black cord that hung around his neck. He always wore it, and couldn't think of a time when he didn't. It was the only thing he had left of his parents, so he felt compelled to wear it to honour their memory. It was his most precious item, and it brought him so much comfort whenever he was feeling down.
Harry stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. After taking off his backpack, he jumped on the bed. In an attempt to dissociate himself from his disordered thoughts, he took out a book and examined it. The comic was awfully tempting, but he was more interested in the mysterious book that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
It was an old slim book with a leather cover, with barely legible words on the front: The Source. What a strange name for a book. Harry opened it up to the first page and cocked his head in curiosity. A few lines were written on it, which was confusing.
The host has repaired an antique mantle clock.
General Exp: + 30
Skill Exp: [Maintenance 1, Dexterity 1] + 15
Progress to level 2: 30/100
Level 2 Unlocks:
Feature: Inventory
Item(s): 10 x Appraisal Scrolls
The host has acquired the following skills:
*Maintenance 1 [15/500] - The maintenance skill determines the host's expertise in inspecting, diagnosing and solving problems with various items and equipment. It also affects the hosts' ability to perform basic repairs on them or take preventative measures to ensure their longevity.
***Dexterity 1 - [15/2000] - Basically, it refers to how skilled and graceful the host is with his hands. This greatly affects all crafting professions and activities that require dexterity.
Harry furrowed his brows. This book was strange. There seemed to be a correlation between the actions he took in reality and the words written in the book. He knew the basic concepts of levels as he had come across a few role-playing games when repairing some gaming consoles. However, this book indicated that he was rewarded with experience for repairing objects instead of killing monsters. He even learned a few skills, but he wasn't all that interested in them. They were things that he already had in a real sense, but the numbers beside them appeared to indicate that there were higher levels. Did that mean his overall skill would increase? How do you measure skills like this anyway?
After Harry turned the page, he saw that the second and third pages were used as an index, with a column of numbers running down the page. However, nothing was listed beside them, so he assumed he hadn't unlocked them yet. Harry flipped through the rest of the pages, but they were all completely blank. It seemed that he would be able to unlock more pages when he levelled up. Harry guessed that the first page was used as a general area to display new messages.
Harry placed the book down, wondering if he was crazy for even considering the contents of the book were real. Was it some crazy prank that Lewis had pulled on him? It was undeniable that the book's first appearance completely broke the laws of physics. There was one way that he could prove if the thing were real or not. This was to fix another item and to see if there was any change in the book.
Suddenly energised, Harry leapt up from the bed and unlocked the trunk that lay at the foot of his bed. He had installed the security measure when he discovered that some of his possessions had been stolen a couple of years ago. Harry never discovered who had done it, but it must have been one of the kids. Unfortunately, he never developed any personal friendships with any of them, as they seemed to find him strange and avoided him like the plague. It was unfair, but that could be said about his life in general.
Inside were his personal belongings, including broken items that he had found but hadn't gotten around to fixing yet. He decided to start with a simple fix, which was an action figure with its leg snapped off. Harry grabbed super glue and carefully applied it to the leg. Honestly, he didn't know if this was considered a repair, as it was so simple. Holding the leg to the joint, he waited a few minutes to ensure that it was properly bonded. After giving it a few tugs, he was satisfied with the result and placed it down.
When Harry looked for the book he had placed down, he was dismayed to see that it had disappeared. A familiar green glow was radiating from his hand, so Harry touched the symbol once more. The book reappeared in his hands, and he sat there for a few moments in silence. He didn't even need to confirm any changes after that brief display. It was now irrefutable that it was supernatural or something beyond his comprehension.
When Harry opened the book, he noticed that the previous words had disappeared and that they had been replaced with new words. It was a brief message that confirmed that he had gained some experience points for fixing the action figure. Since he only gained 2 exp, he concluded that the difficulty and time needed to repair the item determined how much experience he would get. Still, it would be faster to fix simple items rather than spend a couple of hours working on more elaborate things like the antique clock.
An incredible excitement gripped Harry as he began to see the possibilities of where this magical book might take him. For now, it didn't seem like much, but he was only at level one. What would it be like when he reached level ten or a hundred? It was like jumping off a cliff into a pool of water without knowing what was hidden in the depths below. The outcome may vary, but the sheer exhilaration on the way down was worth it.
In a frenzy, he grabbed every item that needed fixing. He spent the next few hours absorbed in his work, only stopping to grab some lunch. Some of the items weren't fixable, as he didn't have the required tools, so he would have to revisit them later. After he ran out of items in his room, he searched the orphanage for things to fix. He only returned to his room after he judged he had done enough to level up and accessed the book again.
The host has reached Level 2!
The inventory has been unlocked and can now be accessed from the Index page.
Appraisal Scrolls x 10 obtained! (All rewards are automatically placed in the inventory).
Progress to level 3: 112/300
Level 3 Unlocks:
Feature: Skills page.
Item(s): 100 pounds.
Not wasting any time, Harry found the inventory in the index and touched it. The pages flipped over to the next page, which was no longer blank. On the second page, there was a grid that contained sixty square slots. The first one was filled with an icon for a scroll with the number ten beside it. Harry reached out and touched the icon, and a drop-down box appeared with a list of options. Pressing the first option, he watched as an image appeared on the adjacent page. It displayed the image of the Appraisal Scroll in detail, along with a brief description.
Appraisal Scroll - A piece of parchment that has a runic inscription drawn on it that allows the user to find information about an object. Simply unroll the scroll and place an object on it, and information will appear at the bottom of the parchment. There is a basic magic storage rune inside with the required magic already stored within, so it does not require any magic to activate it. The scroll is a consumable and becomes ineffective after use.
There was a lot to unpack in the simple description. The most interesting part was that it mentioned magic, which apparently was a thing. Since his mind was already blown away by the existence of the Source, it was not a huge leap to believe it was real. He was more interested in the fact that there was script-based magic, such as runes. Was there a limit to what he could create with them? But it seemed that you usually needed magic to activate it if the item didn't have the storage rune inscribed. Did that mean that magic was needed to create the inscriptions in the first place? He wasn't sure if he could do magic, and there was nothing he could remember that hinted at the possibility.
Harry thought about testing out one of the Appraisal Scrolls on something, but there was nothing of value that he had that was worth it. What if they were really valuable?
There was one item he would like to try, however. He reached up for the necklace, but he stopped as he was about to take it off. His mind seemed to shy away from the action, and he lowered his arm, forgetting why he had raised it in the first place. Harry jolted as he became aware of what had just happened. The necklace seemed to have an odd effect that prevented him from taking it off. Was it because he was now aware of the magic that he finally noticed the anomaly? Or did it have something to do with obtaining the Source?
Harry reached for the necklace, and he felt an overwhelming urge to leave it alone just like before. He bit his tongue, and the pain jolted him out of his confusion. Quickly reaching up, he grabbed the necklace and ripped it off his neck, tossing it on the bed. Frightened, he stared at it for a while. How was it that it had such an adverse effect on him? Something that could manipulate his mind like that was terrifying.
He needed to see what was going on with this necklace. Harry was about to retrieve an Appraisal Scroll when he had an idea. He grabbed a pencil from the bedside table and lifted the necklace with it, and placed it in his inventory. He waited to see if it gave him the description, but nothing appeared. It seemed like it didn't work on items that didn't originate from the Source. It made sense, he supposed. Otherwise, the Appraisal Scroll would be completely useless.
He touched the square with the pencil, and the necklace appeared in front of him. Harry grabbed an Appraisal Scroll from the inventory and laid it flat on the bed, and placed the necklace on it. As soon as he did, words started appearing at the bottom. He waited a minute before lifting the necklace off and beginning to read what was written on the parchment.
A jade necklace inscribed with several runic inscriptions. It utilises a special technique to shrink them down so that they can fit onto the crystal. The enchantments are powered by the wearer's magic.
Enchantments:
Accidental Magic Lock - (Harry Potter) (Deactivated)
Physical Appearance Illusion - (Harry Potter) (Deactivated)
Aversion Ward - (Harry Potter) (Deactivated)
Notice-me-not Charm - (Necklace) (Deactivated)
Compulsion Charm - (Harry Potter) (Deactivated)
Magic Siphon - (Harry Potter) (Deactivated)
Tracking Ward - (Necklace) (Deactivated)
Alert Ward. (Necklace) (Activated)
Harry felt a gamut of emotions run through him as he read through them. Although he couldn't understand most of it, he knew it was something bad. The one thing that stuck out to him was the physical change. Did that mean he lived his entire life disguised? Harry jumped off the bed and approached the dresser with the vanity mirror on it. He felt apprehensive. Was he really going to look different?
He looked into the mirror and gasped. The blonde hair and blue eyes had changed to brilliant emerald eyes and untidy dark hair. His appearance had been transformed from the sharp features that made him appear rat-like. Harry had perfectly symmetrical features that made him look better than ever. In fact, he was pretty damn handsome. The only thing that marred his appearance was the scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt.
However, Harry was not so distracted that he forgot about the necklace. He noticed something else that raised alarm bells. There was an alert ward, which was the only one that was active at the moment. Call him paranoid, but he had the feeling that it was not something positive. Was it supposed to alert someone when he took it off? Considering the lengths they took to ensure he wore it at all times, it wasn't that huge a leap in logic. Did that mean that someone would be coming here to check on him?
It was time to leave the orphanage. Harry started packing a backpack full of clothes and his most valuable possessions. As he worked, his mind was frantically processing the implications of what he had just learned.
He was certainly suspicious of the matron. It seemed too coincidental that the woman mentioned on numerous occasions that he should wear the necklace at all times. The one thing that made him really angry was that the necklace was not his parents' keepsake but a tool to keep him...what?
What was the purpose of doing this to him? To keep him hidden? To hide that he had magic? Or keep him ignorant? Whatever the reason, he certainly didn't trust their motives. One of the enchantments that pointed out that fact was the Aversion Ward. He had a feeling that this was the reason why he didn't make any friends growing up and why the orphans didn't like him. It made for a lonely childhood. Whoever did this didn't do it with good intentions.
Next, he crawled under the bed and pried up a loose floorboard and pulled out the small bag that held all his savings. It amounted to three hundred and thirty pounds. It was not a small sum for someone his age and in his circumstances. He decided to chuck the money into his inventory to keep it secure but kept ten pounds in his pocket in case he needed to use it.
Harry paused as he heard someone coming up the stairs. As they made their way down the hallway, he recognised the slow, shuffling steps of the matron. He opened the window and peered out at the ground below. Thankfully, there was only the yard below him, so it would soften his landing.
There was a knock on the door. "Harry? Can I come in?" After a pause, the doorknob rattled. However, Harry had locked the door, so it didn't budge.
"Open this door right now!" There was an unnerving edge to the matron's voice that he had not heard before, which freaked him out.
Harry didn't hesitate any longer and climbed out the window and dropped down onto the grass below. He landed with a soft thump that drove him to his knees. Getting up quickly, he raced to the front gate and opened it. Pausing for a moment, he considered where he should go. On further reflection, it was careless of him to run away without a plan in mind.
There was a thought that itched at the back of his mind,, though. Lewis was the only person who didn't seem affected by the Aversion Ward. What did it mean exactly? Maybe it was nothing, but at least he had a specific location in mind. The only thing that troubled him was that Lewis would not be able to recognise him.
"Hey, who are you?" One of the younger kids yelled from the front yard.
Harry took off without looking back. He would think of something when he arrived at the store. She would soon be searching for him with vigour if his suspicions were right about the matron.
Charlus sat in the Leaky Cauldron, under disguise. He was watching the floo entrance that the witches and wizards used to access Diagon Alley. There was a specific person he was waiting for to arrive. After using a compulsion charm on the unfortunate Tom, he discovered that the person always visited Diagon Alley on this day of the week during the school holidays. Since he didn't have their address, it was the next best thing he could do.
As soon as he woke up earlier today and got over his shock that it had been eighteen years since he had been petrified, he made his way to Potter Manor. To his horror, the manor no longer stood there. It was nothing but a burnt-out husk. Fearing for his wife and son's lives, he had disguised himself, apparated to the nearest floo connection he could remember, and flooed to Diagon Alley from there.
Charlus spent the next few hours learning about recent history, and what he had found left him in a pit of despair. Not only were his son and his daughter-in-law dead, but also his grandson. Only his wife was left alive. Voldemort was defeated, and his grandson was credited with ridding the Dark Lord from Magical Britain. He was considered a hero, even if he lost his life in the process.
However, Charlus saw a glimmer of hope as he discovered who was responsible for announcing that his grandson was dead. Dumbledore. It seemed that he was the only point of reference for what had happened that Halloween night, and he wouldn't trust a single word of that bastard. He needed to do his own investigation to see if his grandson was still out there somewhere.
The floo flared to life, and his heartbeat sped up when he saw his wife had arrived. She still looked as beautiful as ever, although she showed signs of ageing. He couldn't imagine what she had been through in the last eighteen years. If only he had done differently. Well, it was too late to regret it now.
Charlus stepped forward and followed her out into the courtyard. Seeing that the place was empty, he ran up and grabbed her arm before she could enter Diagon Alley.
She whirled around with her wand pointed at his throat. "Just what do you think you are doing?"
"You were always a wee bit ornery, love." It was a common phrase that he said to his wife, and she recognised it immediately.
His wife's arm dropped in shock as she began trembling. "It cannot be."
Charlus used the opportunity to remove his disguise so that she could see his real face. "Hello, Minnie. I'm back."
Charlus caught his wife as she fainted. There is no doubt that Minerva Potter is made from stern stuff, but today was a considerable shock that would upset anybody, regardless of their disposition. He apparated them away before anyone else came across them. He had a lot of explaining to do.
So, what do you think? In the first chapter, I left a small clue that hinted at Minerva being his wife. Did anyone catch it?
Thanks for reading.