The Granger home smelled of lemon polish and dental floss. Leon, wrapped in a thick towel after Mrs. Granger's brisk sponge bath, stood shivering in a small, spotless bathroom. Steam billowed from the shower stall. It was his first proper shower in weeks. Hot water sluiced over him, stinging scrapes he hadn't noticed, washing away layers of grime and forest scent. He leaned his forehead against the cool tiles, exhaustion warring with hyper-alertness. He was inside. Safe. Temporarily. The **[HAREM]** tab pulsed insistently. He mentally prodded it. **\[HERMIONE GRANGER - BOND LEVEL: CONCERNED (1/10)\]**. Below it, greyed-out entries hinted at others—**\[????\]**, **\[????\]**. Potential. Unformed. He sighed, letting the water pound his shoulders. Sanctuary wasn't a cave anymore. It was a dentist's house in a world of wizards. The complexity was staggering.
Suddenly, the steam swirling before him coalesced. Harsh, glowing blue text materialized across the misted mirror like neon graffiti: **[HAEM QUEST: HERMIONE'S TRUST]**. Below it, bullet points pulsed aggressively:
* **OBJECTIVE:** Elevate Bond Level to Trusting (3/10).
* **REWARD:** Unlock Basic Magical Affinity equivalent to Bill Weasley (age 11).
* **WARNING:** Failure impedes System progression & Harem Synergy.
Leon stared, water dripping into his eyes. Bill Weasley-level magic? At eleven? A potent lure. But the phrasing—*Harem Synergy*—sent a jolt of unease through him. This wasn't just survival anymore. It was manipulation. Before he could process the implications, the bathroom door handle rattled. Hermione's voice, muffled but clear, cut through the drumming water: "Leon? Mum sent me with fresh towels!" The holographic quest prompt flared brighter, searing the steam, then vanished just as the door began to creak open.
Leon reacted on pure instinct. He snatched the flimsy shower curtain closed, heart hammering against his ribs. Through the translucent plastic, he saw Hermione's blurry silhouette hesitate in the doorway, her arms laden with fluffy towels. Her bushy hair was a dark halo against the hallway light. "I... I'll just leave them on the stool," she stammered, her voice thick with awkwardness. She placed the towels down with exaggerated care, her gaze flickering toward the shower stall. Leon stayed utterly still, water pattering around him. He heard her sharp intake of breath—she'd likely seen the crude stone knife and flint lying discarded near the sink, relics of his fabricated wilderness survival. The door clicked softly shut. Leon slumped against the tiles. The quest prompt lingered in his mind's eye, cold and demanding. Hermione's trust wasn't just kindness now. It was currency. Magic awaited. And the path to acquiring it felt disturbingly like betrayal.
He dried off quickly, dressing in the borrowed clothes Mrs. Granger had left—soft grey sweatpants and a faded Oxford University hoodie that swallowed his frame. Back in the sterile guest room, Leon paced. He needed leverage. Hermione adored books, facts, puzzles. He was an eighteen-year-old mind trapped in an eleven-year-old body, armed with decades of pop culture osmosis and Wikipedia deep dives. He scanned the room: textbooks stacked neatly on a shelf—*Advanced Algebra*, *Introduction to Physics*. Perfect. He snatched the physics book, flipping to a chapter on Newtonian mechanics. He'd bait her intellect. Make himself indispensable. A source of forbidden knowledge.
Leon found Hermione curled in the living room armchair, nose buried in a thick novel titled *A History of European Dentistry*. She glanced up, suspicion warring with reluctant curiosity as he approached. He held out the physics textbook, open to a diagram of gravitational forces. "This," Leon said, tapping the page, his voice deliberately calm, "is incomplete." Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Incomplete? It's fundamental physics!" Leon leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Fundamental, yes. But what about the force that *bends* gravity? The one that makes stars dance and light curve?" He saw it—the spark igniting behind her eyes. Her book slipped forgotten onto her lap. "What force?" she breathed. Leon offered a ghost of a smile. "Let's just say... I saw things in the woods. Impossible things. Things that make Newton look like he was playing with building blocks." He turned and walked away, leaving her gaping at the textbook, the seed of impossible wonder planted deep. The **[HAREM QUEST]** counter flickered: **\[HERMIONE GRANGER - BOND LEVEL: INTRIGUED (2/10)\]**. One step closer to magic. One step deeper into the lie.
Two days later, a violent summer storm lashed against the Grangers' tidy house. Rain hammered the windows like thrown gravel. Leon was helping Hermione organize her encyclopedia collection when the first thunderclap shook the foundations. He froze mid-reach, textbook slipping from suddenly numb fingers. A searing pain, white-hot and vicious, lanced through his lower abdomen—*exactly* where the first knife had sunk in his past life. He gasped, doubling over, clutching his stomach. Hermione spun around. "Leon? What's—" Her words died as crimson bloomed across the front of his borrowed hoodie, vivid against the grey fabric. Blood dripped steadily onto the polished wooden floor. "MUM!" Hermione screamed, panic shredding her voice. But Leon grabbed her wrist with surprising strength, his eyes wide with terror that wasn't feigned. "No! Please... not them. They'll think I'm... broken." His breath hitched. "Help me. Just you." Rain lashed the windows, mirroring the phantom violence replaying in his nerves.
Hermione dragged him, trembling, into the downstairs bathroom. Her hands shook as she lifted his hoodie, revealing five ragged, weeping wounds scattered across his torso and ribs—gruesome replicas of the stab wounds that had killed him. Blood soaked the waistband of his sweatpants. "Hold pressure!" she ordered, thrusting gauze pads into his hands while rummaging frantically through the medicine cabinet. Her mind raced—internal bleeding? Ruptured organs? Yet his pulse, though rapid, remained strong beneath her fingers. She cleaned the wounds with antiseptic wipes, her touch clinical but gentle. Leon bit back whimpers, the phantom agony merging with the sharp sting of disinfectant. Each wound pulsed with remembered betrayal—Darren's sneering face, the cold alley, the sirens fading as darkness claimed him. Hermione secured the last bandage, her face pale but determined. "You need a hospital." Leon shook his head violently, sweat mingling with rain-streaked grime on his brow. "They'll vanish by morning," he rasped, the truth of his death echoing in his hollow tone. "They always do." Hermione stared at the bloodied gauze in her hands, doubt warring with the horrifying evidence staining her fingertips.
The next dawn, Hermione crept into Leon's room before her parents awoke. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, illuminating the bed where Leon lay sleeping peacefully. She peeled back the blankets, hands trembling. Where deep, bleeding wounds had marred his skin hours before, only smooth, unblemished flesh remained. Not even a scar. She touched the spot over his ribs—cool, whole. The bandages lay discarded on the floor, clean except for the dried bloodstains. Hermione sank onto the edge of the bed, staring at Leon's serene face. Trauma didn't vanish overnight. Magic didn't heal without trace. The impossible truth settled over her like a shroud: his story was a lie, but his pain was terrifyingly, inexplicably real. And it was hers to keep secret. The **\[HAREM QUEST\]** notification pulsed crimson: **\\\[HERMIONE GRANGER - BOND LEVEL: TRUSTING (3/10) - REWARD UNLOCKED\\\]**. Warmth flooded Leon's veins—not triumph, but the raw, crackling promise of Bill Weasley's magic awakening within him. He kept his eyes closed, feigning sleep, as Hermione quietly gathered the bloodied evidence, her footsteps heavy with the burden of his hidden truth.
Three weeks later, tension crackled through the Granger living room. Hermione's parents sat stiffly on the sofa, bewildered pamphlets about "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" scattered across the coffee table. Hermione paced, clutching her own letter, her voice rising with frantic frustration. "It's real, Mum! The feather floated! The teacup mended itself! Why won't you *believe* me?" Mrs. Granger shook her head, bewildered. "Sweetheart, accidental things happen—" "Accidental?" Hermione whirled, eyes blazing. "Fine! *Accidental* THIS!" Fury ignited her magic. The antique crystal vase on the mantelpiece—a family heirloom—exploded violently. Shards screamed through the air like daggers, aimed squarely at her parents' faces. Time slowed. Hermione screamed. Mr. Granger threw up his hands helplessly.
Leon reacted without thought. Bill Weasley's instinctive magic surged through him—a torrent of raw, protective will. He lunged forward, fingers splayed. "*Protego!*" The incantation tore from his throat, unheard beneath the chaos. A shimmering, translucent dome of blue-white light erupted between the Grangers and the deadly shrapnel. Shards struck the shield with sharp *pings*, dissolving into harmless dust. Silence crashed down. Hermione stood frozen, horrified. Her parents gaped at the fading shield, then at Leon—his hand still outstretched, eyes wide with shock. Magic. Undeniable. Impossible. Leon's breath hitched. He hadn't meant to reveal himself. Not like this.
The fallout was swift. Two days later, identical Ministry of Magic owls thudded against the Granger windowsill at dawn. One envelope bore Hermione's name in emerald ink. The other, stark and undeniable: *Leon Frease*. Both letters cited "severe, uncontrolled magical outbursts endangarding Muggles" alongside their official Hogwarts acceptance. Hermione clutched hers, trembling. Leon stared at his name—proof he belonged here, yet a shackle tightening. Her parents sat pale-faced at the breakfast table, teacups untouched. The magical world had forced its way in, violent and undeniable. Leon met Hermione's gaze across the room. Her eyes held no accusation now, only stunned understanding—and a flicker of shared defiance. They were both adrift in the impossible. And Hogwarts awaited.