[ Location: The Great Hall - Gryffindor Table ][ Date: September 2nd, 1992 - Breakfast ]
"I'm dead," Ron moaned, his face pale as he stared at the red envelope clutched in Errol's beak. The owl, exhausted from the delivery, collapsed face-first into the milk jug, spraying Hermione with dairy.
"I'm actually dead."
"Look on the bright side," I said, calmly buttering a crumpet. "At least you aren't in Azkaban. Yet."
"Open it, Ron," Neville whispered, scooting away as if the envelope was a bomb. "It's worse if you ignore it."
Ron's shaking fingers tore the wax seal.
"RONALD WEASLEY!"
The voice of Molly Weasley exploded from the envelope, magnified to a volume usually reserved for jet engines and rock concerts. The plates on the table rattled. Shikamaru, who was dozing three seats down, startled so bad he fell backward off the bench.
"HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT!"
The entire Great Hall went silent. Even the Slytherins stopped eating to watch the execution.
"IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!"
The envelope turned to Ginny, the voice instantly dropping to a sweet, sugary tone. "Oh, and Ginny dear, congratulations on making Gryffindor. Your father and I are so proud."
It blew a raspberry at Ron and burst into flames.
Silence.
"Troublesome," Shikamaru muttered, picking himself up from the floor and rubbing his ear. "And I thought my mom was loud. This woman could do some serious damage with sound jutsu."
Ding!
[ System Alert: Mission Report - World 9 (Hunter x Hunter). ][ Participants: Lloyd Frontera, Lelouch vi Britannia. ][ Status: Returned. ]
'Ah, duo is back.'
I opened the chat interface while Ron tried to melt into the stone floor.
Vivan Frostwell: Welcome back, travelers. Did you survive the clowns?
Lelouch vi Britannia: I... I need a therapist and a drink. Lloyd... he tried to sell the Hunter Chairman's left leg and an-.
Lloyd Frontera (Admin): It was a prosthetic! High-quality craftsmanship! And we passed! Look at this Hunter License! Do you know the credit line this thing has?! I'm buying a planet!
Vivan Frostwell: Glad you're back.
Ryomen Sukuna: Still playing school, brat? I conquered a village when I was your age.
'Oh, here we go. The King of Curses needs attention.'
Vivan Frostwell: Congrats, Grandpa Sukuna. Did you do it all by yourself, or did you have to ask Yuji for permission to use his hand?
Ryomen Sukuna: ...
Vivan Frostwell: That's what I thought. Sit down, princess. When adults are talking.
Esdeath: (Laughing emoji).
[ Location: Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom ]
Gilderoy Lockhart stood at the front of the room, flashing a smile that was brighter than my future. He was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that matched his eyes (and his ego).
"Me," he pointed to a painting of himself painting a portrait of himself. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award."
Shikamaru had his head on the desk. "He talks so much. Does he even take a breath?"
"Now, be warned!" Lockhart shouted dramatically. "It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizard kind!"
He whipped a cloth off a cage on his desk.
Inside were small, electric-blue creatures.
"Cornish Pixies?" Seamus Finnigan laughed.
"Freshly caught Cornish Pixies!" Lockhart roared. "Laugh if you will, Mr. Finnigan, but these can be devilishly tricky little blighters! Let's see what you make of them!"
He opened the cage.
It was pandemonium. The pixies shot out like blue missiles. They grabbed books, inkwells, and Neville by the ears, lifting him to the chandelier.
"Get them!" Lockhart yelled, trying to cast a spell. The pixies stole his wand and threw it out the window.
"I'll ask you three to just nip the rest of them back into their cage!" Lockhart yelled, diving into his office and slamming the door.
"What a fraud," I sighed, dodging a flying inkwell.
Harry and Hermione were swatting at them with books.
I stood up.
'System. Status.'
[ Telekinesis: Level 10 (MAX). ]
[ Magic : Level 2. ]
[ Illusion: Level 2. ]
'Telekinesis is Maxed. Using it gives me zero XP. It's a waste of a good crisis.'
I gripped my wand. 'Time to grind the Magic stats.'
I raised my wand. I focused on the chaotic swarm.
'Freezing Charm. Let's do this.'
"Immobulus!" I shouted, channeling the warm hum of my Magic through the ebony wood.
A pulse of blue light erupted from my wand. It wasn't a beam; it was a shockwave.
The pixies froze in mid-air, suspended in a stasis field.
[ System Notice: Magic Proficiency Increased. ]
Hermione looked at me, impressed. "That was perfect! The pronunciation was spot on."
"Intimidation works too," I winked.
I looked at the floating pixies.
'Illusion Skill. Let's test it.'
[ Ability Active: Illusion (Visual Projection). ]
I focused on the cage. I projected a mental image into the pixies' tiny brains. To them, the cage didn't look like a cage. It looked like a dark, safe hollow tree.
"Locomotor Wibbly," I cast a Jelly-Legs Jinx on the leader to steer him.
The frozen pixies drifted, guided by my wand movements, and floated right into the "tree."
I slammed the lock shut.
"Coast is clear, Professor!" I shouted, kicking Lockhart's office door. "You can come out and pretend to be a hero now!"
Lockhart peeked out, adjusting his wig. "Ah, yes! Just as I expected! Excellent work, Mr. Frostwell! Five points to Gryffindor!"
"He is the worst," Shikamaru muttered, pulling a pixie wing out of his hair. "Even Naruto would be a better teacher."
[ Location: Charms Classroom ][ Date: September 7th, 1992 - Friday ]
Ron's wand was held together by Spellotape. It backfired every five minutes, emitting a smell like rotten eggs.
"Silencio!" Flitwick squeaked from his stack of books.
Ron waved his broken wand. "Silencio!"
BANG.
A jet of green sparks shot out the wrong end, ricocheting off the desk like a bullet and flying straight toward Professor Flitwick's face.
"Professor!" Hermione screamed.
I whipped out my wand.
"Protego!"
A shimmering, translucent shield erupted between the sparks and the tiny professor. The spell bounced off the barrier with a ping and hit Seamus, turning his eyebrows orange.
"Oh my!" Flitwick squeaked, peering over his desk. "Marvelous Shield Charm, Mr. Frostwell! That is N.E.W.T. level reactivity! Ten points!"
I twirled my wand.
'Magic feels good. It's cleaner than Psionics. And my shield proficiency just went up.'
"Thanks, mate," Ron whispered, looking pale. "I thought I killed him."
"Get a new wand, Ron," I said seriously. "Before you blow up the castle. Or yourself."
[ Location: Quidditch Pitch ][ Date: September 8th, 1992 - Saturday Morning ]
"Clear the pitch!" Oliver Wood yelled. "We booked it!"
Marcus Flint, the Slytherin captain, smirked. "Easy, Wood. I've got a note from Snape."
The Slytherin team walked onto the field. They were all holding brand new Nimbus 2001s. And standing in the front was Draco Malfoy, looking smug in his green robes.
"Malfoy?" Harry asked.
"That's right," Malfoy sneered. "My father bought the whole team these brooms."
Hermione stepped forward. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent."
Malfoy's face twisted. He stepped closer to Hermione, towering over her slightly.
"No one asked your opinion," Malfoy spat. "You filthy little Mudblood."
The air left the pitch.
Ron whipped out his broken wand, his face turning red. "You'll pay for that, Malfoy! Eat Slugs!"
BOOM.
The spell backfired. Ron flew backward, landing on his back. He rolled over and retched. A giant, slimy slug fell out of his mouth.
The Slytherins roared with laughter. Malfoy was doubling over.
"Look at him!" Malfoy laughed. "Pathetic Weasley and his Mudblood girlfriend!"
Something snapped in my chest.
I handed my wand to Shikamaru.
"Hold this."
"Vivan?" Shikamaru narrowed his eyes. "Don't kill him."
"No promises."
I walked up to Malfoy. He was still laughing. He didn't see me until I was in his personal space.
"What do you want, Frostwell?" Malfoy sneered. "Going to perform a magic tri—"
I didn't use magic. I didn't use Psionics.
I used the Right Hook I'd practiced for months in the gym with Steve Harrington.
CRACK.
My fist connected with Malfoy's jaw with a sound like a pistol shot.
Malfoy didn't stumble. He lifted off his feet and spun in the air, crashing into the mud face-first.
Silence. Even the Slytherins stopped laughing.
Malfoy scrambled up, clutching his jaw. Blood poured from his lip. He looked terrified. "You... you hit me! Like a muggle!"
"Talk like trash, get taken out like trash," I said coldly, stepping forward.
Crabbe and Goyle moved to intercept, cracking their knuckles.
[ Ability Active: Illusion (Mental Manipulation). ]
I stared into their eyes. I projected a simple, primal image into their brains: Spiders. Thousands of them. Crawling on their faces.
Crabbe and Goyle froze. Their eyes widened.
"AHHH!" Crabbe screamed, slapping his own face. "GET THEM OFF! GET THEM OFF!"
Goyle started running in circles, swatting at invisible bugs.
They collided with each other and fell into the mud, screaming about spiders.
The Gryffindors stared. Even the Slytherins looked disturbed.
"What did you do?" Harry whispered.
"Just showed them their fears," I said calmly.
[ System Notice: Illusion Proficiency Increased. ][ Current Mastery: Illusion (Level 2 - 15%). ]
I grabbed Malfoy by his expensive collar and hauled him close.
"Listen to me, Draco," I whispered, my voice low and dangerous. "You can buy brooms. You can buy friends. But you can't buy a new set of teeth. Call her that again, and I won't stop at one punch."
I shoved him backward. He fell into the mud next to his screaming bodyguards.
"Let's go," I said, turning to the Gryffindors.
Hermione was staring at me. Her eyes were wide, watery, and shocked.
I walked over to her. "You okay?"
She nodded, sniffing. "You... you punched him."
"He deserved it," I said, putting my arm around her shoulders. "Come on. Let's get Ron to Hagrid before he slugs the whole field."
[ Location: The Dungeons - Snape's Office ]
"Detention," Snape drawled, sorting pickled toad eyes. "For brawling like a common thug."
Harry was with Lockhart answering fan mail. Ron was polishing trophies (and vomiting). I was here.
"He insulted a student, Professor," I said, chopping roots with precision.
"And you assaulted a student," Snape countered, though he didn't look entirely displeased. "However... your chopping technique is adequate. Unlike Potter, who chops like a blind troll."
I worked in silence. The dungeon was quiet.
'This is fine. Grinding Potion crafting skill. I need to learn how to brew Felix Felicis eventually.'
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