Arthur Akashic had always known he was different. Even before Narcissa Black had taken him in, before the tiny apartment above the bustling streets of London became his home, he had felt the world whisper to him in ways no ordinary child could hear. Amber eyes too sharp for a boy of his age, an instinct for knowledge that reached beyond textbooks—he had been a fragment of another world dropped into this one.
It was Narcissa who had seen him first, her sharp green eyes reading through the layers of his soul. He had been five, wandering aimlessly after tragedy had struck her life in ways Arthur could scarcely comprehend. Lucius Malfoy, her husband, had died heroically—facing the Dark Lord himself before Narcissa's divorce. She was alone, carrying grief and the weight of raising a child by herself, when she found Arthur: a boy whose very gaze seemed to pierce reality.
"Arthur," Narcissa had said the day he moved into her home, "you will never be just an ordinary boy. You have a gift. And with it comes responsibility."
Even then, the words had unsettled him. Responsibility was heavy. But he had Harrian. Harrian Potter—bright-eyed, fiercely intelligent, and stubborn as only a Potter could be—became his companion in the strange new life Narcissa provided. Though only a few years older, she assumed a protective role almost instinctively, teasing him for his quiet, calculating ways, yet always ensuring no harm came to him. Their bond had been forged in the shadow of loss, tempered by mutual curiosity and the rare comfort of shared secrets.
Arthur had always known the world was bigger than Hogwarts or Diagon Alley, bigger than spells or even the legend of the Marauders. But it wasn't until he discovered the *Eye of Records* that he truly began to understand just how vast it was. At first, it had been subtle: flashes of knowledge when he touched old texts, faint whispers of past events, fragments of magic from eras long forgotten. A system interface hovered before his vision when activated, glowing faintly gold:
Name: Arthur Akashic
Race : High Human
Mana: 50/100
HP. : 90/100
Knowledge Points: 0/50
It was not overwhelming—far from it—but it made him acutely aware that knowledge came at a cost. Each insight drained his mana, each extraction leaving him more fatigued than the last. And though the Eye had limits, it gave him glimpses into truths that few wizards could comprehend.
"Morning, Arthur!" Harrian's voice pulled him from his reverie. She bounced in the doorway, her bright green eyes alight with mischief and excitement. "Are you ready for Diagon Alley? We need supplies for Hogwarts. You'll want a wand that doesn't bite back this year."
Arthur gave a half-smile, brushing down his robes. "I'm ready. I just…" His amber gaze flickered briefly as he sensed a ripple beneath the familiar streets of London, a tremor in magic that felt almost… alive. Harrian followed his gaze, but saw nothing. "I'll explain later."
The walk to Diagon Alley was brisk, the streets of London gradually giving way to the hidden lanes that led to the magical heart of the city. Arthur's Eye of Records flickered with faint golden threads connecting this world to another—far below, where legends said the Hollow World waited. It was a realm of ancient power, older than wands, older than Hogwarts itself, inhabited by elves, dwarves, dragons, and the Titans that slumbered beneath the World Tree. Most wizards dismissed the Hollow World as myth, yet Narcissa and Lily Potter had devoted years to its study, and whispers of it often filtered into Arthur's visions.
When they arrived, Diagon Alley thrummed with life. Shop windows shimmered with charms, the air smelled of parchment, ink, and the tang of magical creatures. Owls hooted softly from perches outside their cages, and Arthur couldn't help but notice subtle anomalies: a stack of books levitating a fraction too high, a lantern that flickered with impossible light. The world was… unsettled, and the Eye whispered that this was only the beginning.
First stop was **Madam Malkin's** for robes. Harrian tried on several, humming with delight at the selection. Arthur's eyes scanned the shop methodically, measuring, calculating. A faint pulse of mana rippled through the fabrics as he touched them. His interface blinked: *Mana -2*. He frowned. The simplest interactions now drained him slightly, a reminder that his abilities required care.
Next, **Flourish & Blotts** for textbooks. Harrian chattered about new spells she wanted to master, while Arthur quietly fingered old, dusty tomes on magical history. One in particular drew his attention: a leather-bound volume etched with strange runes that seemed to shimmer when he looked at them. Arthur hesitated, then tapped it lightly. The Eye activated, streaming fragments of knowledge across his vision—accounts of ancient battles between dragons and dwarves, elves venturing into the surface world, and cryptic references to Titans. The interface flickered: *Mana -10, Knowledge Points +5.*
"Arthur, are you even listening?" Harrian nudged him playfully. He blinked, returning to the present. "Yes," he said softly. "Just… noticing things."
Finally, they entered **Ollivanders**. Wand selection had always been a delicate matter, but Arthur felt a pulse of anticipation. Rows of wands stretched endlessly, each whispering in subtle, magical vibrations. Arthur's Eye flickered as he approached a peculiar wand, its wood seemingly ordinary yet impossible to classify, faintly warm to the touch. The core thrummed with immense power: **a true phoenix feather**, rare beyond imagination.
The wand chose him almost instantly. As it settled into his grip, a shiver ran up his arm. The Eye of Records flared, revealing fleeting images of fire, rebirth, and golden threads connecting him to the Hollow World. He knew this wand was no ordinary tool—it was a key, a bridge to knowledge and power he had only glimpsed in dreams.
The final stop was the **magical creatures shop**, a small, cramped store filled with cages, tanks, and enchanted enclosures. Here, the Eye truly flared. Among ordinary kittens, owls, and fireproof toads, one creature drew his attention: a white cat with eyes that glowed faintly gold. The creature's gaze locked on his, intelligent and unnerving. Arthur felt a strange resonance—mana pulsing, threads of energy tangling around him like tendrils from another world.
*Legendary Creature? Unknown data… Possibly Hollow World origin.*
Harian gasped. "It's just a cat, Arthur."
"It's not just a cat." Arthur knelt, letting the creature approach. Its fur shimmered like fresh snow under sunlight, and when it pressed its head against his palm, he felt an almost imperceptible pulse of something ancient and vast. The Eye of Records blinked: *Mana -15, Knowledge Points +10.*
"This… this is extraordinary," Narcissa said softly, watching him. "Be careful, Arthur. Some creatures are more than they seem. Some have lived long before wands, long before magic as we know it."
Arthur nodded, careful. The cat—he decided to call it **Shiro**—would be his companion. The creature's presence felt protective, a tether to the mysteries he was only beginning to understand.
As they left Diagon Alley, bags full of new robes, books, and wands, Arthur sensed it again: the faint tremor beneath his feet. Something stirred far below, in the hollowed depths of the world. Golden threads of energy shimmered at the edge of his vision, connecting the surface to the Hollow World. His interface blinked, alerting him: *Mana fluctuating, unknown forces detected.*
Harian looked up at him, concern flashing across her face. "What is it?"
Arthur exhaled slowly, forcing a smile. "Nothing… yet. But I think our world is bigger than we've ever imagined. And Shiro here," he said, letting the cat leap gracefully onto his shoulder, "might just be the first sign."
Narcissa and Lily exchanged a glance that spoke of knowledge, caution, and anticipation of the adventure to come. "Be ready, Arthur," Lily said. "The Hollow World is ancient, and it remembers everything. Sooner or later, it will call to you."
Arthur looked ahead at the winding streets of London, feeling the weight of the day and the adventure ahead. His Eye of Records flickered faintly, a promise of knowledge, challenge, and danger. He adjusted Shiro on his shoulder and took Harrian's hand. The multiverse, the Hollow World, the Titans—they were all waiting, and he was beginning to understand his place in it.
For now, though, he allowed himself one rare moment of normalcy, a deep breath in Diagon Alley, surrounded by magic, friends, and the thrill of discovery. The world was wide, and Arthur Akashic was only beginning to see it.