The smell of mold and dust is already starting to irritate my nose, an ever-present itch causing a constant urge to sneeze.
For a few minutes now, I've been staring into space, lying uncomfortably on a relatively dirty mattress with zero softness.
What the fuck is going on?
Where the fuck am I?
Why and how did I end up in this damn tiny space?
Did someone drug me?
Okay, to recap. I was at the mall with some friends watching Demon Slayer in the theater, and after we ate a burger, I was heading home.
And after that... the Uber car... ex-exploded?
Fuck? What was in the car's engine, C4?
Normally, I'd make a dark joke about not giving the driver 5 stars. But I'm not finding it very funny that I went kaboom.
Muffled footsteps began to sound from above and seemed to stop when they reached just above me, before a louder crash began, like someone jumping and landing heavily.
Which consequently caused more dust to fall.
*Atchim!*
Fuck you, you son of a bitch!
Soon after, whoever the bastard was, stopped and continued walking. I could hear sounds of laughter echoing along with the footsteps, as if he knew exactly what he did.
It may sound a little childish, but i'll make you regret this, you bastard.
At least this petty act reset my brain from its previous stutter.
Γ Welcome ᒧ
Γ You were randomly chosen, due to the boredom of a Higher Dimensional Being, to be reincarnated in one of the Infinite Worlds of the Omniverse ᒧ
Γ You will receive a skill based on your own desires to help you survive ᒧ
Γ Good luck ᒧ
"...Ah." I said monotonously, staring dryly at the screens that appeared in front of me.
What exactly am I supposed to do with this?
Maybe find the nearest psychiatric facility, or maybe wake up from whatever drug-induced sleep I'm in.
Let me get this straight: for some reason, an incredibly powerful being decided to reincarnate me in another world? Like a novel/anime with a bad, poorly thought-out plot?
And randomly, it's my ass, you bastard! Now it makes sense, how could a car exploding out of nowhere just when I'm in it be something random?!
As I stared at the screens with a look of contempt, as if they'd insulted my dead mother, they smoothly closed and opened again, displaying different information.
Γ Based on your own inner desires, you have received the Sexual System! ᒧ
Γ This system will grant the host greater overall progress speed, a stat panel with their attributes and abilities ᒧ
Γ The system will have as a distinguishing feature the ability for the host to further evolve through sexual intercourse with a woman (according to the host's sexual preference) ᒧ
Suppressing the sudden urge to explain myself, I began to ponder seriously as I stared speculatively at the screens displaying the new information.
Yes, indeed, it does seem like the plot of a poorly thought-out novel/anime. But it feels more like a racy fantasy novel or a poorly thought-out fanfic by a horny author.
I was starting to get a bit of a spiritual headache now.
Stop throwing things at me all of a sudden, damn it! First, the amazing Demon Slayer movie, then my Uber exploding, only to wake up in this shithole, then discover the Uber exploding was because of some terrorist god who killed me in a "specifically random" way, and now I apparently gain power with segs.
You know what, fuck it, I don't want to think about this anymore, I'm going to turn my brain off.
Γ Think of the word "Status" with the intention of using your system ᒧ
"... Status." I made a point of spitting out the word.
----------=-----=-----=-----=-----=-----=----------
Name: Harry James Potter
Age: 16
Race: Human (Wizard)
HP: 200/200 [10%/Hour]
MP: 750/750 [10%/Min]
Strength: 10
Speed: 10
Endurance: 10
Intelligence: 10
Mana: 15
Sex Points: 0
----------=-----=-----=-----=-----=-----=----------
...
So, orphaned twice? It must be some record or achievement.
It could be much worse.
Honestly, being reincarnated into the world of Harry Potter as the protagonist himself isn't so bad. Sure, there's the guy with no nose and a piece of his spiritual ass stuck to my forehead. But with a system, I think I can survive without any problems if I put in the slightest effort.
I sighed, placing my hand on my forehead and rubbing my temples.
Dying and being reincarnated as an orphaned protagonist in a world of magic.
More than a little unbelievable, but still, somehow I didn't start researching the nearest psychiatric center and asking to be admitted.
I'm a little... numb? No, not the right term, I think. It seems to be Gamer's Mind, but not entirely. I'm calmer than usual, of course; normally, I'd be a little panicked.
But the thing is, if this were a dream, wouldn't it be so... realistic? I don't know, very lucid maybe. There are lucid dreams, but this goes beyond that. Even if we have lucid dreams, wouldn't it seem very... rational? You can't think or act the way you normally would outside of a dream. I don't know, it's weird.
Anyway, I'd rather move on and see what happens.
Γ Important features of your status panel: ᒧ
Γ Your Name and Age are self-explanatory ᒧ
Γ Your Race, the only distinguishing feature besides the usual Human, is that you possess the ability to generate and store Mana, an exotic energy that fuels spells capable of manipulating the laws of the world ᒧ
Γ Your Health Points (HP) represent your life force, how much damage your body and spirit can withstand. If it reach 0, you die. It's calculated from your Endurance x 20 ᒧ
Γ Your Mana Points (MP) represent your Mana reserve, how much magical energy you have available and at your maximum to perform and fuel spells. It's calculated from your Mana x 50 ᒧ
Γ Strength represents your pure physical strength, the density and strength of your muscles. Speed represents your overall speed, reaction and movement speed. Endurance represents your durability and stamina, how much affliction your body and spirit can withstand, and how much effort your body can exert. Intelligence represents your brain's processing capacity, influencing memory and learning speed. And Mana represents your magical energy, how much Mana you can generate and store ᒧ
Γ Sex Points are a unique dynamic of this system. With enough points, the host can do whatever you want. From increasing stats to making changes to the system itself ᒧ
Γ Sex Points are earned by having sexual intercourse with a woman. The amount of points earned varies depending on factors such as the woman's affection for you and the intensity of the sex ᒧ
Cool, I guess. And apparently there's no limit to how much I could evolve. I could get to the point where I could punch a mountain and it would disappear from the map, maybe?
Pretty awesome, for sure. Shit straight out of One Punch Man and Dragon Ball.
And remembering that the system was chosen and based on my own desires, I suppress the urge to explain myself again.
These Sex Points are apparently very broken. 'Whatever you want' is a very broad concept; with enough points, could I, like, give myself some form of divinity?
Γ Update request has been submitted ᒧ
Γ Calculating ᒧ
Γ Insufficient Sex Points ᒧ
I think that answers that? It didn't even say exactly how many Points are needed; I have no idea how many Points I'd get for having sex once, so Divinity might be for later.
I believe it's possible to increase stats with normal training as well, without needing to increase them with Points. Something to test later.
*KNOCK KNOCK*
"Boy! Stop being lazy and get up, go make us some food!" A voice I'd associate with an oily pig sounded from the door of what I now knew was a closet after two loud knocks on the wood.
Opening the door of the small cubicle, I was met with what looked like a large, round sack of potatoes, neckless, with small eyes and a nest of hair that was supposed to be a mustache.
Vernon Dursley.
And I refuse to call this pig my uncle.
I wanted to politely tell him to go fuck himself and go herding in search of some oil to hydrate himself and choke to death.
But, look, if you're even remotely intelligent, you know that getting into a fight with an animal with more air than brains in its skull, and enough weight to make the ground scream for defeat, isn't a good idea when you're a malnourished teenager.
"Okay." Was my neutral response as I walked to the kitchen.
Being a smartass and insulting him wouldn't do me any good. My physical strength is pathetic, and I don't know any magic, nor have I been able to fully explore it yet.
I can be spiteful and sarcastic, but I'm not an idiot.
But as soon as I'm confident enough to deal with normal people, you can bet I'll get even.
The world record holder for the longest human neck doesn't seem to be around, at least. One less irritation.
I started preparing food, or at least the Dursleys' equivalent.
Normal British food. Eggs, bacon, sausage, etc.
Only drowned in oil.
The worst part is that it's literally how they like.
No wonder the father and son look like they're going to explode at any moment, and even their sweat is greasy.
Petunia follows a diet that's the equivalent of water, gossip, and a superiority complex. No wonder she looks like a skinny horse.
I made the Dursleys' "special" food and separated it onto their plates. And then I made mine: 3 boiled eggs and some bacon and sausage that I didn't leave covered in oil.
This body desperately needs protein.
Γ Skill Acquired! ᒧ
Γ Cooking (Passive) ᒧ - Level 1 - Cost: N/A
Determines your cooking ability.
Increases the effect of food by 3%.
Oh, good to know. It means it enhances the effect of nutrients in food.
This also reminds me that I still need to check the Skills panel.
----------=-----=-----=-----=-----=-----=----------
Γ Gamer's Body (Passive) ᒧ - Level Max - Cost: N/A
It allows you to live life like a game.
It removes inherent limitations, increases your overall progress, and grants you greater adaptability.
Γ Gamer's Mind (Passive) ᒧ - Level Max - Cost: N/A
Prevents psychic intrusion into your mind.
Grants a calmer state of mind in the face of adversity.
Γ Cooking (Passive) ᒧ - Level 1 - Cost: N/A
Determines your cooking ability.
Increases the effect of food by 3%.
----------=-----=-----=-----=-----=-----=----------
Yes, the standard Gamer package. A little different from what I remembered, but it's been a long time since I read the original manga.
I imagine the increased adaptability of Gamer's Body won't turn me into a Mahoraga or Doomsday. But I have some ideas for taking advantage of it.
The mental protection of Gamer's Mind is a nice relief; I don't have to worry about Legilimency. There's Occlumency, of course, but I don't know when I'd be able to learn how to protect my mind, and by that point, some nosy person might have already taken a peek inside my head, and things would get weird.
Would something similar to the scene with Deadpool and Professor X in the comic where Deadpool annihilates the entire Marvel universe happen?
A little morbid, but it would be funny.
And knowing that I'm not going to be an emotionless robot all the time is nice too.
Soon, I went to place the plates of oil with some food on the table and I started eating my food too. While Vernon opened a newspaper and read it while he ate, Dudley ate like a pig that hadn't seen mud in weeks, and Petunia was probably still upstairs doing whatever she was doing.
After a while, the click of the letter flap sounded along with the sound of mail dropping onto the doormat.
"Get the mail, Dudley," the father pig said softly.
"Send Harry to get it," the son pig said.
"Get the mail, boy." The father pig then followed his son's suggestion, but this time with a dry, gruff voice.
Normally, this would piss me off. But this 'interaction' was all too familiar, and I had a feeling.
Ignoring the two balloons with legs, I got up from my chair and went to the door.
There were three letters on the doormat: a postcard from Vernon's fat sister, Marge, who was on vacation; a manila envelope that looked like a bill; and the one that interested me and the reason for the feeling was having.
A thick, heavy envelope, made of yellowed parchment and laced with emerald green ink, with no stamp.
Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
Turning the envelope over, there was a purple wax seal with a coat of arms featuring a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake circling a large letter 'H'.
I admit my heart started beating a little faster when I saw the Hogwarts acceptance letter.
I'm a huge Harry Potter fan, and who hasn't dreamed of receiving a Hogwarts letter? Now, not only did I receive the letter, but apparently, I'll be attending the school of magic as the protagonist himself.
Magic. A fantastical concept that is the subject of admiration and amusement for many.
The envelope in my hand held a different weight for me. The corners of my lips lifted in an excited, enthusiastic smile.
"Hurry up, boy!" Vernon yelled from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" The pig then laughed at his own joke, which was a bad one.
Not being an idiot, I hid the letter in the back pocket of my oversized pants, covering it with my oversized shirt. A good use for those rags.
Returning to the kitchen, I saw that Petunia had come down. Yes, she and Vernon seem perfect for each other; she looks as hideous as Vernon, but in a completely opposite way. She had no flesh on her body, just bone and resentment, with a long, thin neck, a long face, a lantern jaw, and large teeth.
I didn't spare her a second glance and handed the other letters to Vernon. He tore the bill open with a snort of disdain and opened the postcard.
"I'm going to the cupboard." I said neutrally.
Vernon grunted in acknowledgment as he read Marge's letter with Petunia.
Entering the small closet, I turned on the lamp and removed the letter from my pocket.
I had a few things on my mind at the moment, certain concerns.
One of them is the fact that I'm 16, like in my previous life, and not the 11 Harry should be in canon, which tells me there are things different from what I originally knew. Besides, of course, the fact that Harry Potter in this world is a reincarnation with a perverted system.
I'm not complaining about not having to go back to being a bratty 11-year-old, but knowing what's going to happen gives me a sense of security; I know what to expect. But now I don't.
So I suppose the Harry Potter world I'm in is an alternate world.
Anyway, opening the letter, all the already well-known information to me was written.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Albus Many-Names-and-Titles Dumbledore.
Stated that enclosed was a list of necessary books and equipment.
Term starts on September 1st.
And now, you see, here's the problem.
"We await your owl by no later than July 31st."
Okay, what fucking owl?
I don't have an owl. Normal people don't usually have an owl, especially a magical one. And I'm among the "epitome" of normal people.
The Hogwarts letter delivery system works like this: Pure-bloods and half-bloods receive their letter by owl, Muggle-borns receive it by a faculty member.
And I'm a half-blood, whose "guardians" are aware of magic and Hogwarts, so I'm not included in the same situation as a normal Muggle-born.
Well, what do I do?
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
==|| Minerva McGonagall ||==
In a rustic-looking office, where the air smelled of parchment, ink, and wood wax, the harsh sound of quill writing echoed through the quiet, calm space.
Seated at a massive oak desk, a woman with an aged, stern appearance was writing on a piece of parchment. She was tall and sat up straight. She had black hair that was rarely worn down, mostly slicked back in a tight bun.
She wore emerald green robes, her most common outfit. Square glasses that matched the markings around the eyes of her Animagus and Patronus: a silver tabby cat. She also wore a pointed hat tilted to one side.
She was in a somewhat melancholic mood. July 31st was approaching, and that date was very significant for her.
It was the birthday of Harry Potter, the son of two of her favorite students.
She stopped writing, leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes regretfully as she let out a sigh.
She was a teacher who loved her job. Seeing her once-immature students grow and mature, becoming successful and happy, is what motivate her to do what she do.
James was a brat, immature, and an undisciplined troublemaker. But over the years, she saw him mature. He had his ups and downs, of course, but as he became an adult, she saw a responsible man, kind to his family, a competent Auror.
Lily was a sweet girl, eager for knowledge, enchanted by magic. Minerva loved how her eyes sparkled when she learned something new, and how kind she was to everyone, not discriminating between Houses. But she could be a bit short-tempered when provoked, with a certain temper as fiery as her red hair.
As she grew into a woman, Minerva saw a young woman who still loved learning but took second place to those she loved and her responsibility to them. Still considerably temperamental, however.
Seeing the two of them together warmed Minerva's heart. Those two, along with a few others in this world, held a special place in her heart.
She loved all her lions, but James and Lily had always been closest to her.
Their wedding was an immense joy; they were so beautiful, so in love. She felt the weight of old age that day as she watched those two gaze at each other with loving eyes, remembering the two teenagers she used to teach.
And shortly afterward, when the news came that Lily was pregnant, Minerva cried with joy at their happiness. Lily had been so radiant, so excited to be a mother.
A while later, her tears fell again, this time in deep sadness.
Dead.
Her two beloved students had been murdered. James had tried to protect them both, unsuccessfully. Voldemort was too powerful for even a competent Auror. Lily, murdered in her room in front of baby Harry.
The war was horrific, with so many deaths, so many acquaintances who sacrificed themselves to fight Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
But two tragedies in particular struck her most deeply.
Frank and Alice, two other of her students whom Minerva adored almost as much as James and Lily, tortured to insanity, committed for life to St Mungo's, little Neville then, whose parents were alive but in a vegetative state, was left with his grandmother, Augusta, a woman as old as she, but whose bitterness would show too much, the state of her son and daughter-in-law weighing even more heavily on her.
James and Lily were murdered in their own home by Voldemort himself while trying to protect Harry, who was orphaned at just one year old, his mother killed in front of him.
Voldemort was defeated that day, but the pain remained.
They called the little boy the Boy Who Lived, associated Voldemort's defeat with him, and wrote books and celebrated in his name.
Minerva often wondered if wizards had some collective disease that caused a lack of tact, empathy, and common sense.
Lily had a profound knowledge of magic, which Minerva knew surpassed her own. It's no wonder the extraordinary young woman became an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries. Very few people knew this; the work and identity of each Unspeakable was a great secret within the Ministry; the title itself was self-explanatory.
Minerva was certain that Voldemort's defeat that day, like Harry's survival, was Lily's doing.
The little boy, at Dumbledore's behest, was left in the care of the Durleys, the family of Lily's sister, Petunia.
Minerva despised them; the day she spent observing them, she saw what rotten human beings they were.
She had questioned Dumbledore's choice.
The boy's godmother, Alice, was in St. Mungo's in a vegetative state. His godfather, Sirius Black, had been declared a murderer; it was said that he had betrayed the Potters by giving away their location and killing Peter Pettigrew during his attempt to escape.
Minerva would rather break her own wand and give up teaching than believe such accusations.
Sirius Black and James Potter were attached at the hip. Best friends, practically brothers, since forever.
Sirius would dip his hand in the fire for James, and James would do the same for him.
This story was very poorly told; it made no sense. And Minerva has had the feeling ever since that practically everything in it was wrong.
And she trusted her instincts. But unfortunately, there was nothing she could do; Sirius was already in Azkaban, and no one at the Ministry would listen to her. Dumbledore, the one who could fix this, seemed oblivious to Sirius's situation.
So, with Harry unable to be handed over to his godparents, Minerva herself had offered to take care of the boy.
Dumbledore refused, which deeply infuriated her. He also liked James and Lily, of course. But he wasn't as close to them as she was. The fact that he had positioned himself as the voice that would decide Harry's future fervently outraged her.
Before she could yell at him or hex him, Dumbledore told her that through the residual magic in Harry's room, a ritual had been performed, likely a protection ritual for Harry, fueled by Lily's sacrifice for her son. And that this protection was likely what caused Voldemort's defeat.
So, to keep the ritual's power from diminishing, Harry must live with the person who shared Lily's blood—her sister. This way, he would be protected from any Death Eaters who might come seeking revenge for their fallen master.
Minerva was angry, tired, bitter, sad, and grieving. She reluctantly agreed, but it still left a bad taste in her mouth.
Interrupting her thoughts, a sensation in her magic occurred. One of her alarm charms.
Looking at the thick book on the corner of her desk, she saw the Hogwarts student register. New passages and information were being entered as new students were accepted, and the book was updated when new students read their acceptance letters.
She had placed an alarm charm to alert her when a specific student's record was entered. Harry.
She stopped everything she was doing and thinking and eagerly went to check the book.
Only to freeze, her body having goosebumps with anger as she read the information.
Harry James Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
She stared at the words for a moment, her mind racing as she tried to comprehend what she was reading.
The Cupboard under the Stairs
Soon, a furious and indignant scream echoed from the pit of her stomach, her magic surging wildly, destroying and knocking over several items in her office.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
AN: The grammar is bad, I know. I use a translator and fix what I can see is wrong. And my English is not good at all. But I want it written in English.
Anyway, I don't know how far I'll go with this. Maybe until chapter 3, 30, or 300. I'm doing this out of boredom and because I've always wanted to read a story a certain way, so I'm making my own.