Harry finished drying himself off and carefully collected the black impurities that had been expelled from his body during the transformation. The substance looked like tar mixed with ash, and it smelled even worse than it looked. He filled three glass vials with the stuff and sealed them tightly before placing them in his charmed pouch.
He reached for his clean robes, but his green eyes darkened at that moment.
[Charmed Crystal Decanter – The Elder Scrolls Online] – Costs 50CP, 100CP available to spend.
In Altmeri high society, one social misstep can be the difference between a life of luxury and three hundred years of mediocrity. Make no mistake, the cutthroat politics of Summerset's elite are far harsher than any battlefield, and even something as insignificant as a drink coming out too warm could end a career, or even your life. Luckily you have this magnificent crystal decanter, infused with a dual-layer resist heat and resist frost enchantment, able to keep hot drinks piping for days and cool drinks as fridged as Kinlady Avinisse's bedchamber.
Harry rolled his eyes at the useless offer. There's such a large difference between offers, wasn't there? For one-fourth of the cost of becoming a budding multiverse, he could get something to keep his drinks hot or cold.
How... amazing.
Whatever was giving him the offers seemed to have some kind of issue with determining the cost of things.
Why could a random sword cost the same as becoming a literal World?
Harry supposed he didn't mind all that much, but he suspected that the CP cost wasn't strictly related to the quality of what was offered, but rather the chance of it being something good was higher the more CP it cost.
So even if it cost 0 CP, there was still a small chance of it being absolutely amazing. His original Hun and Po Souls had been free, after all. But the chance was far higher he could get something near-useless like this Crystal Decanter when the cost was low.
That was probably it.
He waved the offer away. He didn't need such a decanter, but it was interesting to see the origin of this specific offer.
Elder Scrolls Online...
So far he had received three offers that had an origin related to 'Elder Scrolls'.
Specifically:
The Elder Scrolls: Dovah
The Elder Scrolls
And now, The Elder Scrolls Online.
None were identical, but there was information he could gather from the three offers.
That universe had something called magicka that leaked into the world through the Sun and Stars. Apparently these weren't actually stellar bodies like in his world, but rather holes into the divine realm of Aetherius.
In other words, this Aetherius might be similar to his own Heaven, but unique to that universe.
There was also an art of enchantment that could give powerful properties to items. It seemed even better than his own world's charms, because making someone resistant to magic, immune to poison and disease, or even more skilled at Potions just by wearing an item wasn't possible with normal charms.
And now he knew even more.
There was some kind of society of 'Altmeri' people in this universe. These beings had lifespans of at least three hundred years, and the elite of 'Summerset' had cutthroat politics. They probably weren't human, but he had no idea what species they actually were.
There should also be some relationship between magicka and dragons, based on what had happened to his magical energy when his True Dragon Spirit had formed.
Well, it was interesting to piece together what a different universe might be like from these small glimpses.
Harry put on his robes and stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The face looking back at him could easily pass for fourteen, maybe even fifteen if he stood up straight and tried to look serious. His shoulders had broadened over the past year, his voice had dropped, and he was already taller than most of the fifth-year students he'd seen around Hogwarts.
All of this at almost nine years old.
It was getting ridiculous, honestly. Harry knew exactly why it was happening, but that didn't make it any less complicated.
The chi rushing through his meridians was life energy in its purest form, and having that much vitality coursing through his body every day was bound to speed up his physical development. When he'd visited the bending world, he'd noticed that even the children there looked more mature than kids from his own world. A twelve-year-old firebender could have the build of a fourteen to fifteen-year-old from Earth, and Harry was experiencing the same effect.
But that wasn't the only factor.
No, far from it.
The Healthy Eating offer had fundamentally changed his body at a deep level. He'd eaten lots of Direbeasts, massive creatures filled with so much energy that consuming their meat was like taking a strengthening potion with every meal.
His body had been rebuilt to match that environment, designed to process and benefit from that kind of concentrated life force.
The problem was that Earth didn't have Direbeasts. Harry's body was optimized for a completely different world, one where physical maturity came faster because it needed to in order to survive.
He was essentially a transplant from a more dangerous universe, and his accelerated development was the result.
Harry splashed cold water on his face and considered his options. He could wait until he was eleven like every other wizard, but by then he'd look like a fully grown adult sitting in classes with children. The gap would be so extreme that it would raise questions he couldn't answer.
Well, questions he wouldn't answer.
They'd have to accept whatever excuse he gave them.
If he started Hogwarts this September at nine years old, he'd still stand out, but it would be manageable.
A fourteen-year-old body among eleven-year-olds was unusual but not impossible to explain away. Growth spurts happened. Some kids developed faster than others.
It wouldn't be comfortable, but it wouldn't be completely insane either.
Harry dried his face with a towel and really thought about what attending Hogwarts would mean for him socially. He'd been living there for years already, but always as a special case, someone who existed outside the normal student structure.
Actually attending classes, being sorted into a House, following the same rules as everyone else... that would be completely different.
Would he even fit in with the children in his class? Harry had spent most of his time around adults or older students. His closest friend was Charlotte, who was in her fifth year. He got along very well with Bill, Tonks, Chiara and Penny, but they were all in their fifth year as well.
The idea of sitting in Transfiguration class with a bunch of actual eleven-year-olds seemed almost absurd.
What would they even talk about? Harry had traveled to multiple countries, created art that won international competitions, fought magical creatures, and literally become a world with his own Heaven. Meanwhile, his future classmates would be worried about whether they'd remembered to pack enough socks and if they'd be able to find the bathroom in time.
But maybe that was exactly what he needed?
Harry had been thrust into increasingly adult situations for a long time now. He'd been making life-and-death decisions, dealing with murderers, and carrying responsibilities that most grown wizards would struggle with.
Spending time with people who were actually somewhat close to his chronological age would help him remember what it was like to be a kid.
Then again, would it even be possible?
Did he need to act like a kid just because it was expected of someone his age?
Harry paused and really considered that question. When was the last time he'd actually felt like a child? Not acted like one for someone else's benefit, but genuinely felt that carefree innocence that was supposed to come with being eight years old?
With the Flamels and his family at Hogwarts, he could sometimes let himself be playful. Nicolas would challenge him to silly games of magical chess where all the pieces were charmed to make ridiculous noises when they moved. Perenelle would read him stories in French, complete with different voices for each character.
During those moments, Harry would laugh and joke and even pout when he lost a game.
But even then, in the back of his mind, he was aware that he was choosing to let himself act that way. It wasn't natural anymore. It was a conscious decision to be vulnerable, to let his guard down and pretend for a few hours.
That wasn't the same thing as actually being a child, was it?
A warm weight suddenly pressed against his chest, and Harry looked down to see Chrysa bumping her massive head against him in greeting. She'd grown so much over the past few months, especially since the offer that tied her physical capabilities to his own.
She was easily the size of an adult lion now, and this wasn't her limit.
"Good morning to you too," Harry said, scratching behind her ears.
Chrysa let out a sound like rumbling thunder, and settled down beside his bed with her head resting on his lap.
Looking at her made Harry think about growth and change. Chrysa was still fundamentally the same creature he'd bonded with in that hidden chamber beneath Delphi. She was still playful, still protective, still had that mischievous streak that made her hide his socks just to watch him search for them. But she was also stronger now, more mature in her own way. She understood when situations were serious and when it was time to play.
Maybe that was what growing up really meant.
Not losing the ability to be playful or curious, but learning when those traits were appropriate and when they weren't.
Harry had been forced to learn that lesson much earlier than most people. When you knew deep within your soul that you were surrounded by adults that could kill you without much effort at a very young age, when you were dealing with malicious wizards and cursed vaults and genocidal rebels, there wasn't much room for childish behavior.
But that didn't mean he'd stopped being capable of joy or wonder or silliness.
It just meant he'd learned to control when and how he expressed those parts of himself.
The problem was that most people his chronological age hadn't learned that control yet. They were still figuring out basic things like how to talk to adults respectfully or how to handle disappointment when things didn't go their way.
How do you relate to someone who's worried about whether they'll make friends when you've already formed deep bonds with people across multiple countries? How do you get excited about learning the Lumos charm when you can create portals to other dimensions?
It wasn't that Harry thought he was better than other kids his age. It was just that they were living in completely different worlds, even though they were the same species.
Well, not anymore… but it's the principle of the matter.
"What do you think, Chrysa?" Harry asked, still scratching her ears. "Am I overthinking this?"
Chrysa opened one golden eye and gave him a look that clearly said 'you overthink everything, but that's just who you are.'
Harry laughed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
Maybe he was overthinking this.
The truth was, he wanted to attend Hogwarts properly.
He wanted to experience what he'd been missing, to have something approaching a normal magical education even if it came with complications.
The alternative was continuing to exist in this weird liminal space between child and adult, student and expert, insider and outsider.
Besides, if it didn't work out, he could always force the Ministry to let him test out.
Grandpa Dumbledore wouldn't force him to stay as a student if he was genuinely miserable.
"I think," Harry said to Chrysa, "I'm going to stop worrying about whether I'm acting my age and just focus on being myself. If that makes some people uncomfortable, that's their problem to deal with."
Chrysa made a pleased rumbling sound that Harry interpreted as approval.
The real question wasn't whether Harry could fit in with children near his own age.
The question was whether he wanted to try, and whether it would be good for him to spend time with people who had different perspectives and experiences.
"Alright," Harry whispered, standing up and causing Chrysa to lift her head from his lap. "I think I want to attend Hogwarts properly. It'll be complicated, and there will definitely be awkward moments, but it's what I want to do. That's enough."
Harry splashed some cold water on his face and nodded at his reflection.
Right now though, he had more pressing concerns.
It was time to see Beatrice.
..
Harry stood in front of Beatrice's portrait with Dumbledore, both staring at the young girl trapped within the canvas.
She looked terrified, but her eyes followed their every movement.
"Beatrice," Harry said gently, "I'm going to try something that might help you. I need your permission first though. I want to try moving you to a safe place using a type of magic that's... well, it's hard to explain. But I promise I won't hurt you. Can you nod if you're willing to let me try?"
The painted girl looked between Harry and Dumbledore, then nodded firmly. Her mouth moved as if she was trying to speak, but no sound came out.
"Thank you," Harry said. He took a deep breath and reached out with his Space Authority, trying to feel for Beatrice's presence within the painting. It was strange, he could sense something there, but it felt different from a normal person.
More... flat. Two-dimensional.
Harry focused on that presence and tried to teleport her into his Human World.
Nothing happened to Beatrice herself, but the entire painting suddenly vanished from the wall.
Harry switched his consciousness to his Human Avatar, and sure enough… the painting was in the Human World leaning against a tree. Beatrice was still trapped inside, looking around in confusion at the forest visible through the painting's frame.
"Well, that's not what I was hoping for," Harry muttered.
He teleported the painting back to its original location.
"The painting moved, but Beatrice didn't," Dumbledore observed. "Which suggests..."
"That she really has been transformed into the paint itself," Harry finished, feeling frustrated. "She's not a person trapped behind the canvas. She IS the canvas now."
Harry tried a few more experiments. He attempted to teleport just part of the painting, but his Space Authority seemed to treat the entire thing as one object. He tried teleporting Beatrice specifically while leaving the painting behind, but nothing happened at all.
In the end, he tried something different. Instead of teleporting her out, he teleported himself into the painting to see if he could reach her that way.
That definitely didn't work.
His Space Authority just wasn't meant for teleportation within the same world, not yet.
He already knew that, but he had to give it a go.
"I'm sorry, Beatrice," Harry apologized to the painting. "I can move your painting around, but I can't separate you from it. The magic that did this to you... it's too integrated."
Beatrice's painted face showed disappointment, but she nodded to show she understood.
"We'll find another way," Harry promised her.
Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "Sometimes, my boy, even great power has its limitations. But you're right, we'll keep trying."
Harry sighed as they walked away from the portrait. At least the two pranks tomorrow should get them access to whatever Peeves was hiding.
Hopefully that would lead to some answers about who was behind this and how to reverse it.
..
Harry sat at the Staff table the next morning, cutting into his scrambled eggs while trying to look completely innocent.
It wasn't easy, considering he knew exactly what was about to happen.
Charlotte had spent most of yesterday evening working on the Ever-Bashing Boomerangs with Bill and Tonks. She'd been absolutely brilliant with the charm work, layering multiple jinxes onto each boomerang and adding resistance charms that would make them nearly impossible to stop once they got going.
Harry had suggested they start with just a few boomerangs to test the effect, but Charlotte had given him a look that clearly said 'go big or go home.' They'd ended up with over three hundred of the things, all carefully stored in an expanded bag that Tonks would smuggle into the Great Hall.
The plan was simple.
Tonks would release the boomerangs during breakfast when the Hall was packed with students. The boomerangs would bash into people, trigger their various jinxes, and create enough chaos that Peeves would be impressed with their 'legendary prank.'
Then they'd move on to phase two with the house-elves when it was time for dinner.
Harry glanced around the Staff table. Aunt Min was reading the Daily Prophet, Uncle Filius was humming quietly while buttering his toast, and Snape looked miserable, which was pretty normal for him.
None of them had any idea what was coming.
Well, except for Grandpa Dumbledore.
He probably suspected something was going to happen based on the way he kept glancing at Harry.
Harry didn't feel guilty at all, since this was all for Beatrice.
Sometimes you had to break a few rules to save someone.
He spotted Tonks across the Hall at the Hufflepuff table. She caught his eye and gave the tiniest of nods. Charlotte, Chiara and Penny were all sitting with her as well.
Bill was at the Gryffindor table, chatting with his younger brothers as if nothing was happening. They'd informed him of their plan yesterday, and he immediately swore he'd help out.
It seems everyone was ready...
Harry took another bite of eggs and waited.
Tonks stood up casually, as if she was just going to get more pumpkin juice. But instead of walking toward the drinks, she pulled out what looked like an ordinary school bag and whispered something under her breath.
The bag burst open.
Three hundred Ever-Bashing Boomerangs exploded into the air in a swarm of spinning wood. They immediately started zooming around the Great Hall in every direction, making this weird whistling sound as they flew.
For about two seconds, everyone just stared in confusion.
Then the first boomerang smacked into a third-year Ravenclaw.
The boy's hair instantly turned bright purple and started growing at an alarming rate. Within seconds, his hair was dragging on the floor behind him.
"What in Merlin's-" the boy started to say, but another boomerang was already diving toward a Slytherin girl.
SMACK!
Her robes transformed into a frilly pink dress covered in dancing unicorns.
That's when the real chaos started.
Students began screaming and diving under tables as boomerangs swooped through the air. Harry watched more victims get hit - a Gryffindor boy who could suddenly only speak in rhyme, a Hufflepuff girl who started hiccupping rainbow bubbles.
"Everyone stay calm!" Aunt Min shouted, jumping to her feet. But a boomerang whizzed right past her head, and she had to duck.
Harry decided this was his cue to leave the Staff table. If he stayed up there, he'd be too obvious a target, and someone might get suspicious about why he wasn't panicking.
He slipped away from his chair just as Uncle Filius started casting freezing charms.
"They're resistant to immobilization!" Filius called out as his spells bounced harmlessly off the boomerangs.
Harry made his way through the chaos toward his friends. A boomerang suddenly dove straight at him, and he braced himself for impact since dodging wasn't necessary.
THUNK!
The wooden projectile smacked him right in the shoulder. Harry felt a brief tingle of magic trying to take hold, but it slid right off him. His weak magic resistance from the Hero's Journal enchantment was enough to shrug off Charlotte's harmless jinxes.
Harry reached the Hufflepuff table and slid onto the bench next to Tonks, who was doing an excellent job of looking shocked and confused.
"This is mental!" Tonks said loudly. "Who would do something this crazy?"
"I have no idea," Harry replied innocently.
That's when Harry's favorite part happened.
A boomerang broke off from the main swarm and headed straight for the Staff table. It smacked into Snape with a satisfying THUNK.
Snape's usual black robes instantly transformed into a bright pink tutu with sparkly silver stars. His greasy black hair became styled in ringlet curls with little pink bows.
The entire Great Hall went silent for exactly one second.
Then everyone burst into laughter so loud it shook the windows.
"Oh my God," Tonks cried out from laughter. "Look at him!"
"POTTER!" Snape roared, pointing an accusing finger right at their table. The effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that he was wearing a tutu and had adorable pink bows in his hair.
"Why is he blaming you?" Penny asked.
"He always blames me for everything," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "I could be in a different country and he'd still think I was responsible for his bad hair days."
Harry felt something become clear to himself as he watched Snape's indignant rage. Here was a man who'd spent years making children miserable, who took pleasure in crushing young spirits, now experiencing a taste of harmless humiliation himself.
There was something deeply satisfying about that.
This was part of who he was too, someone who could appreciate the elegant irony of a bully getting his comeuppance. Just as he had thought during his self-reflection earlier, he didn't need to choose between wisdom and joy.
He could enjoy both.
"I didn't do anything!" Harry called out to Snape, no longer trying to hide his amusement. "I'm just sitting here with everyone else!"
"Don't you dare laugh, you little-" Snape started to say, but another boomerang hit him mid-sentence.
Now Snape's voice sounded exactly like a squeaky toy. Every word came out as a high-pitched squeak.
"That's it," Charlotte whispered. "I'm dying. Actually dying."
"The pink bows really complete the look," Chiara added, wiping tears from her eyes.
Aunt Min was trying to restore order. "FINITE INCANTATEM!" she shouted, but the boomerangs just kept flying around.
"Those defensive charms really worked," Bill chuckled, appearing at their table. "Whoever made these knew exactly what they were doing!"
"Terrible shame," Tonks agreed solemnly. "Really shows a criminal level of magical skill."
Harry smiled slightly at their comments. If Charlotte had been born in his Human World, he suspected that she might've been chosen by the Law of Fortune to become a Chosen One. Her magic talent was extremely high, she was regularly involved with the Cursed Vaults… and she was a close friend of his.
That might be a bit arrogant to say, but if she didn't decide to request his help with the Ice Vault back then, it was highly likely she wouldn't have survived to this point.
That did make Harry wonder about something.
The Law of Fate.
Why didn't his Hun Soul take it as well during the transformation to become the Heaven-Earth Soul? He had taken the Laws of Physics and Magic just fine, but Fate seemed to elude him.
Was it too high-level? Or was it just included in the Laws of Magic?
He'd have to see what happened with Divination experts in the Human World to find out.
"I want every student questioned under Veritaserum if necessary!" Snape squeaked furiously. His threat would have been more intimidating if he wasn't wearing a sparkly tutu and squeaking.
"Now, Severus," Dumbledore said mildly from the Staff table, "I think we should focus on reversing these effects first."
Harry noticed that Grandpa Dumbledore didn't seem particularly upset about the chaos.
If anything, his eyes were twinkling with amusement.
That was encouraging. Harry had been worried they'd gone too far, but if Dumbledore wasn't angry, then they were probably fine.
The boomerangs finally ran out of energy and clattered to the floor all at once.
The Great Hall fell silent except for the occasional hiccup, squeak, or bubble pop.
"Well," Dumbledore said, "that was certainly invigorating."
Harry glanced up at the ceiling and spotted Peeves floating near the charmed sky. The poltergeist was grinning from ear to ear and gave them a very obvious thumbs up.
One prank down, one to go.