In a cramped London garret, a half-naked young woman hurriedly gathered her clothes, scattered haphazardly throughout the room. She found her knickers on a half-finished landscape painting. Her jeans were under the little corner desk. She dressed quickly, occasionally stealing cautious glances at the occupied mattress on the floor in the middle of the room.

Now fully clothed, she slipped through the front door without a word, closing it quietly behind her.

At the top of a mountain of empty cider cans, one such can lost its balance and fell to the floor with a hollow aluminium sound.

Under the mattress’s thick covers, someone groaned.

This is the story of Harry Potter. But not of the Harry Potter you know.

He is Harry James Potter — motorcycle mechanic — twenty-five — born of Lily and James Potter, who died in a car crash when he was just eighteen months old. There was no magic, no Hogwarts, no wizarding world, no horrible relatives for Harry to be mentally abused by for eleven years. In fact, the only real issue Harry Potter had growing up, was that he was called Harry Potter.

The playground pranks had been legendary — at least until everyone found out that his parents had also been called Lily and James Potter, and were also dead. That tended to bring the joking mood down.

He was, in fact, Harry Potter in a world in which the story of Harry Potter was not his story, but the story of a wizarding boy who went on to make his creator one of the richest women on Earth.

What a total letdown.

The shape under the covers moved, and a well-muscled male arm groped for a female figure that wasn’t there. The man the arm was attached to eventually gave up, cursed, and sat up, pushing the covers off himself as it did so.

Harry Potter groaned again and clutched at his head. It felt like someone had stuffed it full of cotton wool. His throat was dry. His tongue felt like sandpaper.

He looked around the small room that made up his apartment, eyes barely open enough to see, reached for a half-full bottle of something on the floor, knocked over another empty cider can, and took a sip. It sort of tasted like water. He chugged down the entire rest of the bottle anyway. The bottle fell to the floor and rolled away.

Blessed relief for his sand-paper throat.

Harry lay back down and drew the covers back up over his head.

Hidden in the shadows, which was quite difficult as there weren’t many shadows to hide in, something watched him.

This wouldn’t be a very interesting story if it didn’t actually have magic in it.

The figure continued to watch Harry as he continued to avoid getting up. The figure was a being of games. It loved to play. And it hated being bored. Eventually, it obviously got bored, because it snapped its fingers and changed the world. Or at least, it changed the world for Harry Potter.

Unseen words started appearing above Harry’s mattress. As they did, the world started to go fuzzy. This also went unnoticed. For Harry Potter, the world had been fuzzy ever since he’d woken up.

— Constructing AU Harry Potter World —

— Installing Magic Constructs —

— Begin Game —

— Teleporting to Insertion Location —

— Done —

The figure smiled an amused smile and faded from the world. But its actions remained.

Nothing but silence filled Harry’s world — nothing but silence and darkness.

Harry lay, half-asleep, for a good five more minutes before several little details about his situation coalesced in his brain. Something didn’t feel right, quite apart from his general hungover state. Nothing major, just lots of little things. It was too dark, for one thing. He reached to turn on his freestanding lamp — a lamp, which, it turned out, wasn’t there. Instead, his hand touched a wall where there definitely shouldn’t have been one.

Harry frowned. He sat up and pain shot through his forehead as he banged his head on a roof far too low to be any room he’d normally consider sleeping in.

Where the hell was he?

Now far more awake—something that slamming your forehead on a wooden beam is wont to do—Harry groped around the dark space until his hand gripped what felt like a string hanging from the ceiling. He pulled… And the inside of a cupboard filled his vision.

Certain details immediately jumped out at him. The ragged mattress under him, the ill-fitting pyjamas he wore, the linen bag full of unknown stuff by his pillow. The room, if you could call it that, was pretty sparse otherwise.

He’d fallen asleep last night still buried inside the cutest girl from the club (the “I’m Harry Potter” line almost never failed him) and now…

Three distinct possibilities for what was going on reached the banks of his consciousness through the soup of dehydration. One — he’d been kidnapped. Two — someone was playing some seriously messed up joke. Or three, he’d been sent to the Harry Potter universe.

Despite his occasional wishes picked up by dabbling in fan fiction, option three seemed unlikely. Fuck.

Harry checked the handle on the cupboard door and found it not locked.

He tried the linen bag and found it to be full of books. He stared down at The Standard Book of Spells — Grade One.

Option two — ultimate prank —just became far more likely.

He opened the book and stared, blearily, at page upon page of detailed, handwritten prose and wonderfully drawn diagrams. Even in his hung-over state, he couldn’t help but appreciate the artistry gone into it.

An exploration of his pockets turned up a few odd-looking bronze coins and a scrap of paper showing a line scribble and the single word, ‘Horecrux.’

An incredibly well thought out option two.

Feeling foolish, he rubbed his forehead, expecting to find smooth skin. But, there wasn’t smooth skin. There was a scar. A lightning bolt-shaped scar.

“Son of a…”

This joke was turning more and more elaborate.

Harry opened the cupboard door, stumbled out, and found himself in a windowed hallway lit by the dim light of a pre-dawn sun. Very English. Not very modern.

He found the front door, opened it, and stuck his head outside.

Where there should be an inner-city London street, there was instead a suburban one, filled with impeccably manicured lawns and flowerbeds. He wedged the doorstop into the door and lurched down the road in his ill-fitting pyjama’s, heading for the road sign facing away from him. He reached the road sign and read, “Privet Drive.”

Well, fuck.

He lurched back to the house he’d just left. This was looking more like a prank option and less like a kidnapping with every passing second. If this was a TV thing, he just hoped they’d picked up his shagging that girl the previous night. She’d been really hot.

“Boy? What are you doing?” said a gruff voice as he arrived.

A man a little shorter than him had just arrived down at the bottom of the stairs. He had what could only be described as a walrus moustache.

“I bloody hope you’re not getting any more post,” the man continued. “You’ve had more than your fair share for the rest of your life.”

Harry put a hand on his forehead. “S’too early for this. Just getting some fresh air.”

The man grunted. “Well, close the door. Letting all the heat out.” He shuffled off into another room.

Harry found the bathroom, locked the door behind him, and looked in the mirror. Yep, that was him alright, plus a scar, and with one other rather noticeable change too. He didn’t have a beard. Someone had shaved him. He squinted. Also, was it him, or did he look slightly younger than before?

He sighed.

“What the hell is going on?” he said out loud.

And floating in front of him, words appeared — words, with a button beneath them.

Welcome to the Harry Potter Game

He stared at the text. He waved his hand through it, and inspected it from several different angles. His headache was still pounding at his brain, but his tiredness had long since evaporated. Unbidden, a small smile found it’s way onto his face.

This was looking far too elaborate to be any kind of simple prank. It was either something with a huge budget, or the real thing.

Either way, at least until he knew more about what was going on, he’d play along.

Seeing nothing else to do, he pressed the button, and more text appeared.

You are now the real Harry Potter. In order to win the game, you must successfully complete a Harry Potter Adventure.

“And if I don’t successfully complete the game?” Harry asked. He pressed the button again.

If you don’t win the game within the parameters mapped out, you will die.

Harry stared with half-lidded eyes. He jabbed the next button again.

The water you drank this morning was poisoned. If you go back to your world, you will succumb in minutes. If you fail in your adventure, you will be sent back.

Harry scowled, took a step backwards, and breathed deeply.

This had taken a decidedly sinister turn.

He couldn’t see any kind of electronics that could project a hologram or anything. And how would you make a hologram that could respond to touch like this?

Still nothing to do but play along.

You are currently 19 years old — It has been decided to make Hogwarts a university because children are boring.

Harry couldn’t hold back a snort. That explained why he looked quite a bit younger. Okay, how did he win this so called game?

You will be given multiple choices for changes to be made to the starting state of the world — these changes can have large effects on the story, so choose wisely.

Okay, but how did he win?

Also note that this is not a simulation — this is a real-world with real people — your actions have consequences — choose wisely.

Okay, but how did he WIN?

We will now begin the choosing selection — have fun!

But he needed to know how to win! “ARGGH!!!!” How could he choose if he didn’t know what the rules for winning were?! He punched the mirror and instantly regretted it. Now he had a headache, and his hand hurt.

Choose your one special skill — WARNING: By choosing one of these skills, you will become freakishly talented in that one area, far beyond what is reasonable for anyone of your age and experience, but you will find it much harder to gain aptitude above merely average in all the others.

1. Wandless Magic — never be powerless, but otherwise, you’re just as powerful as you’d normally be, which is to say, somewhat above average.
2. Ultimate Legilimens — always know what everyone is thinking — not even master occlumens can keep you out.
3. Potions prodigy — Your skill at potions surpasses the wildest dreams of your late mother’s greasy-haired childhood love interest. Stock up on shampoo, you’re going to need it.
4. Flying — Default choice. Useless as fuck for all but five minutes against a dragon, but hey, at least you’ll have fun.
5. Enchanter — Take after your mother. You’re especially good at applying esoteric, long-lasting, and even permanent effects to objects, self-made or otherwise.
6. Change it up — Take after your father. You’re especially good at temporarily turning one thing into another.
7. Traditional Duellist — Your reflexes are like lightning and your natural aptitude for curses is frightening. Just remember that violence isn’t always the way to victory.
8. Divination — Gain precognition. See a little bit into the future to change it before it happens.
9. Runes — You can read ancient, long dead languages as though they were your native tongue. No part of the library is closed to you.
10. Arithmancy — You may not be very good at casting spells, but by gum, you’re good at crafting them. Come up with new spells not found in the standard school books, and teach them to someone who isn’t half as shit as you are.
11. Magical Creatures — You have a natural affinity for magical creatures, sentient or otherwise. Centaurs accept your presence, even if they’re not sure why, goblins begrudgingly won’t rip you off, and mer-people will happily play splash splash.
12. Herbology — You can grow tropical plants in the arctic. You can grow arctic plants in the tropics. Your thumb is so green that you can selectively breed traits into plants that the plants haven’t even expressed yet. You’re just that good.

Harry read through the options. There was a next button, but if he pressed it, would he forfeit his special skill? He tentatively pressed the button.

Choose your one magical weirdness:

Oh, thank god. There was a back button.

1. Parseltongue — Default choice. Talk to the snakes of the world and access all of Hogwart’s secret passage ways. Or don’t — because, you know, why bother actually using your one special magical ability?
2. Metamorphmagus — be anyone at anytime — hopefully, with more relevance to the plot.
3. Incubus — knickers dampen as you pass. A word from you will see them dropped.
4. Animagus — Start already knowing how to change into an animal chosen by you from a list of options [See options]
5. Werewolf — Once a month you turn into a monster. It’s painful, dangerous, and socially problematic. Remember to take your potion. Don’t leave it on your desk.

He could explore the options at will before he made his final choice. In that case, he should flick through them all to see what was available first. He pressed on [See options next to Animgaus]

Animagus options

1. Owl
2. Kneezle
3. Dragon
4. Lion
5. Rabbit

Incubus, dragon, lion, owl, metamorph. Hmm. If he assumed this was all real, this was going to be the most difficult decision by far, wasn’t it?

Dragon would be cool, and would provide some serious fire power—ahaha. He winced. But it wasn’t as though they couldn’t be beaten. Krum took one out with a conjuctitus curse to the eyes.

Incubus was so very very tempting. Despite the incredible sex last night, he’d never been that amazing with women. His Harry Potter pick up line only went so far.

Owl would still be very cool without being ridiculous. Maybe he’d be able to talk to other owls to gain information, like Pettigrew did with other rats to find Voldemort in book five. And he’d be able to fly around in muggle areas, as well as inside which he wouldn’t be able to as a dragon.

He pressed the back button, then pressed the next button to take him to the next option screen.

Wizarding Culture

Choose a new aspect of wizarding society not explored in canon

1. Mudblood Scum — In canon, muggleborns are just a quirk — an anomaly that most wizards have no real problem with. In this world, they are a true underclass.
2. Pureblood culture — Despite the fact that the statue of secrecy went up in 1687, way before Queen Victoria took the throan, some can’t help feeling that the Victorian age is where purebloods shine brightest. I hope you like balls.
3. Real Witchcraft — Do you like dancing naked around a bonfire? Yes? Great! Because real witches and wizards get up to all sorts of outlandish things. Sharpen your dagger and light your candles, because we’re getting ritualistic up in this shit.
4. I Almost Crashed into a Helicopter — The muggle world is right outside your doorstep, mister pureblood. We refuse to believe you don’t know what electricity is. We also refuse to believe that a secret group of people with superhuman powers wouldn’t exploit said power to the maximum for personal gain and profit.

Interesting, although he couldn’t, in good faith, choose option one. He wouldn’t choose to make people like Hermione third-class citizens.

He pressed the next button.

Sex

Sex is magic. Choose one of the options below to spice up your time, both in and out of the bedroom.

1. Power is an Aphrodisiac — Witches like a powerful wizard. The more powerful he is, the more they and society let him get away with, even to the point of polyamorous relationships, and domineering tendencies.
2. Frightening Liberal — This wizarding world doesn’t give a toss. They have contraceptive charms, can cure every vinerial disease known to man, and have total equality between the genders. Sex in public? Yep. Open relationships. That too. Incest? Animality? Imperious play? Yes, yes, and yes.
3. Role Reversal — Five-hundred years ago, a coven of battered witches overthrew the patriarchy and established a new magical order, with witches very firmly on top, both out of and in the bedroom. And with the addition of magic, there’s not much your girlfriend can’t do to you, that you might once have done to her.
4. Magical Build Up — Magic builds up in the human body. There’s only one way to release it. Logic might say you should just use a lot of magic, but no, that’s not the correct answer. I think you know what the correct answer is. And judging by the blushing faces of your female classmates, they do too.
5. The-Boy-Who-Bonked — You’re the boy who lived! You’re Harry freak’n Potter! What more do you need?! Canon may have made Harry a sexless dolt who somehow managed to take celebrity, fame, money, power, and a yo-yoing bad-boy to hero and back again reputation and turn it into a single snog and a half-term first-base-only relationship, but you can do better than that! Get ready to answer a lot of fan mail, because the owl redirection wards (or whatever excuse fanon comes up with for why Harry never got any fan mail) are going down! WARNING: The public is fickle, and while any girls you’re banging are unlikely to turn on you, selecting this option will heighten both the public’s willingness to help you out when you look good, but also their willingness to demonise you when you don’t look so good.

He stared wearily at option three – role reversal. That was code for MPREG, wasn’t it? Yeah, it totally was. He shook his head.

Hell, no. He was quite happy being on top, thank you very much.

Having got that out of the way, he inspected the other options again. Despite his previous thoughts about not sentencing people to second or third class citizenship status, he didn’t think he’d choose option two. That sounded just a little too much for him.

Magical build-up could be fun, or it could be incredibly clinical. It was, after all, basically a medical reason to bonk all the time.

Power is an aphrodisiac sounded cool, until you realised that the extra leeway it would give him, wouldn’t apply just to him, but to every other powerful wizard too, and depending on his other choices, some wizards could easily be more powerful than him.

The last one though… the last one looked about right. It would give him a specific advantage that wasn’t so insane as to remove other people’s agency, but would allow him lots of wiggle room to mess around. Making his status as the boy who lived more powerful than in canon would also have many advantages outside of the bedroom.

And he’d never had a problem playing up the whole Harry Potter thing when it suited him.

He perked up. This option also meant that in order to fulfil his duty to every red-blooded male faced with these choices, he wouldn’t have to choose Incubus as his magical weirdness. The Boy-Who-Bonked would more than suffice.

Harry clicked the [Next] button.

World-Building:

Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, The Burrow, Platform 9 3/4, The Ministry… All well and good, but Magical Britain HAS to be a lot more than just those places. Choose a new location to become a recurring place of interest in your adventure.

1. Duelling Arena — Flitwick was a professional duellist back in the day. But where did these professional duels take place?
2. The Black Market — What’s the point of an illegal shopping district if everyone knows where it is? Knock-Turn Alley is a red herring. The real shady business goes on here.
3. Magical Theatre — “Training for the ballet, Potter?” Malfoy’s obviously seen it somewhere, and it wasn’t down at the Old Vic.
4. The Community Farm Project — Where does the Wizarding world get it’s food? Do Witches and Wizards pop down the local Tesco? We think not.
5. Puddlemere — Groups with strong self identities tend to stick together. We know Hogsmeade is the only all Wizarding community in Britain, but what of the others? What’s life like in a British village with a large magical population and a mandate to keep all the weirdness hidden?

Mmmm… he’d come back to this one later.

He pressed the next button.

Plot:

Choose one of the following options to determine what kind of story you’ll be going through.

Adventure: Opportunities to plunge headlong into danger will constantly present themselves. You MUST take them if you wish to win.

Mystery: Things don’t quite add up. There’s something going on that you don’t understand. You’ve got to figure out what it is, that is, if you want to win. [Cannot be paired with Ultimate Legilimens]

Thriller: It’s coming for you! The thing, whatever it is, is after you, and if it catches you, you’re boned. Run as fast as your legs can carry you. Survive for long enough, and you might just get the tools, powers, and allies you need to turn around, sock it in the jaw, and win.

Romance: [Locked]

Intrigue: You have a big secret that you must keep hidden, and you’re not the only one. Can you figure out everyone else’s secrets before they figure out yours? [Cannot be paired with Ultimate Legilimens]

Suspense: Something’s going to happen eventually. You know it. He knows it. She knows it. Everyone knows it. It’s the waiting, planning, and preparation that’s the key to victory.

Finally. Harry pumped his fist silently in front of the mirror. This was what he was looking for. How to win. He scanned the options and felt a flash of annoyance that Romance was locked. That would probably have been easy street compared to the others.

There were some obviously good combinations among the remainders. Like Choosing lion or dragon animagus to go with adventure, or owl animagus to go with intrigue.

Suspense seemed to play into his natural tendencies, but did he really want to spend the whole of this game sitting around waiting for something to happen? As much as he wanted to win, who knew how long this thing would last?

He pressed the next button and another text window popped up.

You have not yet made all your selections. Please complete all your selections before continuing.

Harry went back to the beginning and started to think deeply. The ‘water’ that he’d drunk before had started filtering out the toxins dancing through his liver, and his brain didn’t feel quite as stuffy as before. In short, he was starting to think rather more clearly, which was just as well. He liked games. And he liked playing them well.

The fact that all of this was impossible was a moot point. If you couldn’t rely on your own eyes, you were already fucked. Might as well have some fun while at it.

Harry pursed his lips.

He’d want a good combination of skills, abilities, and contexts that would compliment each other. He also wanted choices that would play to his natural inclinations where possible. Although, apparently, the naturally talented section would see his ability to learn dampened down to being ‘merely average’. That was a bummer.

After looking down the list of special skills again, he zeroed in on enchanter. It would give him both good infield and out of field capabilities. When not on an adventure, he could make tools that would help him on his adventures.

It melded nicely with his job as a motorcycle mechanic.

Said tools would also be pretty flexible too. He might be giving up pre-cognition, but if he was, in fact, a genius enchanter, then he might be able to make a time-turner. He might be giving up being a master duellist, but he could enchant weapons and armour to help mitigate that weakness. And being a master enchanter could be very profitable, which could be important. Being able to hire help was almost as good as being that good yourself.

Of course, there were other skills that could also be very profitable — herbology and potions sprung to mind — but they offered less in the form of offensive and defensive capabilities.

Annnnd! He quickly flipped through the menus to the Wizarding Culture section. He was probably going to choose ‘I almost crashed into a helicopter’ for that one, and there surely had to be many enchanted objects that could either be used in the muggle world for advantage.

He flipped back and pressed on [Enchanter]

Selection confirmed — Changing World

The world faded out

“!!!?”

The world faded back.

Harry’s eyes widened. That had not been fake. That had been real. Holy shit.

Also… all the options were now greyed out. He’d locked himself into that choice. If this was all real, he’d have to be extra careful with his other choices.

His heart rate sped up a little.

He moved to the next screen. Choose your one magical weirdness — Parseltongue, Metamorph, Incubus, Animagus, or Werewolf.

Werewolf was right out. And Parseltongue paled in comparison to the other three. Incubus was still tempting, even now, but he knew he’d be able to choose an option in the sex menu that would make up for it. So, it was between Matamorph and Animagus.

Harry drummed his fingers on the bathroom sink.

He flipped between the sex section and the world-building section, then back to the sex section again, before flipping to the magical weirdness section and then to the plot section. It was all integrated. Changing one of his choices would reveal new problems, weaknesses, and opportunities in the others.

After a whole hour of staring at the options, during which time, amazingly, no-one banged on the bathroom door, Harry firmed his jaw, and chose:

Enchanter — Take after your mother. You’re especially good at applying esoteric, long-lasting, and even permanent effects to objects, self-made or otherwise.

Animagus — Start already knowing how to change into an animal chosen by you from a list of options: OWL

I Almost Crashed into a Helicopter — The muggle world is right outside your doorstep, mister pureblood. We refuse to believe you don’t know what electricity is. We also refuse to believe that a secret group of people with superhuman powers wouldn’t exploit said power to the maximum for personal gain and profit.

The Boy-Who-Bonked— You’re the boy who lived! You’re Harry freak’n Potter! What more do you need?! Canon may have made Harry a sexless dolt who somehow managed to take celebrity, fame, money, power, and a yo-yo-ing bad-boy to hero and back again reputation and turn it into a single snog and a half-term first-base-only relationship, but you can do better than that! Get ready to answer a lot of fan mail, because the owl redirection wards (or whatever excuse fanon comes up with for why Harry never got any fan mail) are going down! WARNING: The public is fickle, and while any girls you’re banging are unlikely to turn on you, selecting this option will heighten both the public’s willingness to help you out when you look good, but also their willingness to demonise you when you don’t look so good.

The Black Market — What’s the point of an illegal shopping district if everyone knows where it is? Knock-Turn Alley is a red herring. The real shady business goes on here.

Adventure: Opportunities to plunge headlong into danger will constantly present themselves. You MUST take them if you wish to win.

There! That should do it.

Harry was just about to click on the final next button when he noticed that the last interface panel had a small, almost hidden button in the top right-hand corner marked C, which he hadn’t spotted before. He looked at it for a full twenty seconds before experimentally tapping it.

Welcome to the cheat window — please place your cheat codes in here to unlock special modes.

A tic-tac-toe style unlock game faded into being under the text.

Harry narrowed his eyes in suspicion, reached into his pocket and drew out the piece of paper he’d found earlier — the one with line scribble and the single word ‘Horcruxes’. This felt just a tad too convenient, but clearly, he was meant to do this. He cautiously drew the unlock shape found on the paper in the code window and grinned in triumph as a new set of words filled the screen.

Horcruxes destroyed — Voldemort is now mortal — You have unlocked a new set of options in the world-building screen.

Nice! That would simplify things a lot! Harry navigated back to the world-building screen and saw several new options, independent of the options he’d previously chosen.

1. A World Without the Dark Lord — Tom Riddle never existed (Warning: Major Canon Deviation)
2. Prophecy Fulfilled — Voldemort fully died on October 31st 1981
3. For the Greater Good — Tom Riddle didn’t become a dark lord, but someone else did. Mmmm… I wonder who that could be?

Harry took one look at the last option and blanched. Hell no. He had no interest in living in an evil!Dumbledore world.

He unthinkingly clicked Prophecy Fulfilled, then instantly regretted it.

“No! Wait!” he shouted.

Selection confirmed — Changing World

“Damn it!” Too late he realised that if Voldemort was already dead he’d have no way of knowing what his adventure was going to be about, and consequently, any advantage he might have from reading the books had just gone up in smoke.

The world faded in and out again. Nothing major seemed to have changed.

He scowled and looked at the final next button. He pressed it.

Congratulations! You have finished the character and story customisation walkthrough.

You are Harry Potter. For eighteen years you’ve lived at Privet Drive with your Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, as well as your cousin, Dudley. You’ve just finished your A-levels getting three A’s in Biology, Art and Design, and English Language, and a B in Accounting.

Knowledge flooded Harry’s brain — much of it merely forgotten, but a good chunk of it completely new.

A few days ago, a massive man called Hagrid turned up after your Aunt made a frantic phone call to a strange-sounding man called Albus Dumbledore, complaining about ’So many damn letters!’ By this point, the house had been ankle-deep in them.

The huge man sat on your Aunt’s sitting room sofa, almost crushing it, and told you that you are a Wizard and that you had a place at Hogwarts University of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He then took you shopping in Diagon Alley, and gave you your Gringotts key, a whole week before he should have.

Harry felt a small weight drop into his pocket.

You bought only the basics required by your Hogwarts acceptance letter.

Crap.

It is now 8:00am. You will need to leave in twenty minutes to catch the Hogwarts Express in time. Have fun.

“What?!” Harry said, loudly. “What about my selected abilities? My animagus form? My enchanting skills?”

Help: Complete the tutorial adventures to unlock the selected skills — Animagus, Enchanter, and The Boy-Who-Bonked. Now get moving!

“Right — good — that’s all I wanted to know.” Harry turned away from the mirror, face full of determination. He was going to go all out on this. If his life really depend on winning this game, he couldn’t afford half measures. He knew what he had to do to win. Every time he was given an opportunity to go on an adventure, he had to grab it with both hands — simple. He wasn’t sure what adventures the game would throw at him now that Voldemort was dead, but…

Just at that moment, a loud banging came from the door. “Harry!” said a shrill voice that could only be his new aunt. “Get a move on! If you’re not ready in time, we’re leaving without you!”

Harry flinched and pressed his hand against his forehead again. His headache hadn’t quite finished letting up yet.

— End of Chapter One —