An obligatory copyright note: Harry Potter and everything related to it is not mine. They belong to J.K. Rowling. The original character is mine of course.
Chapter 1 – A New Beginning
‘I’m not a hero.’
My name is John-1513 and I’m an eleven year old trained assassin.
The first memory that I had is pain. Ever since I know how to walk, I have learned how to run. Ever since I have known how to read, I have learned how to kill. I don’t know who my parents were; the only thing that was closest to the family is the guild. There, I learned how to survive. I have no friends there, because of the test. Each year, there is the test. It was designed to cull the weak and the unfit. Hundreds died while only a handful remains. Thankfully, I am one of them.
Every time I looked at the mirror, I see myself covered in scar, especially in the face, arms and legs. They’re all the results of the so called training exercise. I have experienced, in any order, broken bones, suffocations, near death experience, scalping, mauled by a tiger and a bear, severe bone dislocation. All of them are to prepare me to become one of the Guild’s assassins.
In the guild, I learned survival skills, military tactics, combat technique, guerrilla warfare, social engineering. All of them just for the sake of one purpose only, killing silently and effectively.
I murdered my first human at the age of seven. That was when I knew betrayal. The night before the test, my entire roommates decide to take the first shot at me. Luckily for me, I never sleep. One of the roommates, I think his name is Gabriel-5532, managed to smuggle a knife inside the room, which is a feat by itself because the guild does a very strict monitoring to its entire member.
After grabbing his hand that was holding the knife, I twist it lose while using my free hand to strike at Gabriel’s throat. I can hear him gurgling blood while I kicked him away. Another one takes chair and attempted to strike me from behind. I only managed to avoid it with a well timed roll. The third one, a girl named Sarah-0045, tried to choke hold me as soon as I’m out of the roll. That is a foolish move.
I butt her as hard as I can with my head, and after ascertain the location of her broken nose; I jammed my fingers into her eye and using it to slam her headfirst into the ground.
Gabriel stood up, holding the knife with his still not broken hand. I put my foot on Sarah’s neck. A crack sound means that Sarah would no longer be a problem. Gabriel knew he couldn’t best me in close combat, so he kept his range. Nevertheless, the test is tomorrow, and I need all the sleep I can get.
I took my pillow and throw it at him. Gabriel dodged it easily, but surprised when the pillow bursts into fine yellow mists. I break his neck in that split second of confusion. Now all that left is to go to sleep. At that year’s test and the subsequent years, I was the only one without teammates.
When I was ten, the guild received the contract to assassinate somebody important. Apparently, someone didn’t want the minister of energy to pass the new law into effect. I was to be the assassin. For me, this is just another one in strings of missions I have accomplished. For the guild, they want to send a message, so the murder must happen at noon, when he was attending a meeting, I must decapitate him in front of everybody.
The rubber skin mask is able to alter my face to hide my numerous scars. I can fake various emotions and behaviours to fool even the most perceptive. Nobody suspects a ten year old to be an assassin. I already memorized the building’s blueprint and able to find my way into the security room. I dispatched three old guards in a matter of seconds, before they can even scream for help. I hide the body, but now I got approximately ten minutes, twelve max, to finish the job.
I planted a bomb in the security room to destroy any evidence, gets into one of the toilet, and opened an air duct.
As a ten year old boy, my body is small enough to fit in the air ducts. I crawled slowly without making any noticeable sound. I finally reached the meeting room, with several minutes to spare while still inside the air duct. They wanted the execution to be loud, fast and precise. The only weapon I carry with me is a steel wire and two combat knives. Any other assassin would use a sniper rifle or a silenced pistol, but since this is a special case, I need to get up close and personal.
The meeting starts right on schedule as planned, and I have roughly two minutes to kill this person.
As I’m waiting for the opportunity, I surveyed the room. It was a four by four meter room, with a circular table at the centre. The target sits just right below me and I just need to wait for the member of the witness to be complete. And about one minute later, his wife and small daughter just of my age arrived and waited outside the door. I began my job by detonating the bomb at the security room. The explosion creates big enough sound to distract everybody.
I slipped down in a large crashing sound, used the steel wire to hold the minister in his chair, and hold a combat knife to his throat. It was all happened in a few seconds. As usual, the women start screaming, the men starts to yell. The guards get in and pointed their pistols towards me. It’s all very chaotic in there. After ascertaining that even the family has the full view of the situation, I slammed another combat knife to the table, silencing them all.
Surprisingly, it’s the minister who’s the calmest of them all and starts speaking to me, his tone neither panic nor accusing.
“You’re from the guild, aren’t you?”
“…”
“At least please let my wife and daughter out of here. They have nothing to do with this.”
“…”
Without saying anything, I decapitate him in a single stroke. The blood flew everywhere from his neck, especially upwards. Some of it even lands on his wife and daughter’s face. I picked the other combat knife and ran towards the window, ignoring their scream and evading the gunshots from the guards. I kicked it open, proceeds to fall down from the fifth floor, stabbed the pipe on the way down to slow the fall. I hit the concrete and starts running at full speed, evading pursuers along the way.
After a few minutes, I ducked into a nearby manhole. Inside, I ditched everything and destroy them all with a prepared acid vial. After that, I opened a certain brick in the wall and get a small package out. Inside, it was a set of clothes and a small paper with ‘Safe House’ and a crude map drawn on it. I tossed the remains of the package and the paper into the acid. The evidence quickly dissolved as I made my way through the underground sewer system.
But after a few steps, I puked, hard. I have done so many murders before; this should be just like any other regular murder. Why was I’m feeling like this?
The safe house mentioned in the letter is one of the properties owned by the guild. It’s a ten-floor apartment complex. It got all sorts of people living here, accountant, policeman, street thug, waitress, even a lawyer; almost all of them are just ordinary people though. The non-ordinary ones however, live in the seventh floor. It’s a floor exclusive for the guild members.
I was to report to the area leader after the deed is done. The London area leader is a man with dubious reputation. There’s nothing that that man would not do. I entered his room just to see him pulling a threesome with two hookers.
He noticed me coming in.
“Yo, John right? How’s the job?”
“It’s done. And seeing that you’re busy, I’m out of here.”
“Oi oi oi. Wait.”
He took a wad of cash from god-knows-where and tossed it to me.
I counted it. It has at least twice the amount from what the contract stated.
“It’s more than what is in the contract”, I asked him. I always treated anything that has slightest connection with the guild with suspicion.
“It’s your birthday tomorrow right? Consider it your present.”
“…”
“And get yourself a woman or two. You’re good looking, I’m sure many would love to have you…”
Good looking? I have face full of scars, you dimwit.
“I’m leaving…”
I slammed the door as I got out. That guy is fucking shameless, one of these days; I’m going to gut his throat. But with my skill level right now, it’s not feasible. Even when I’m meeting him, I can feel he got at least three snipers trained at me all the time. I know their position, but dispatching all of them would not be easy feat. I can only sighed and go back to my own room.
It’s just a simple room, with a mattress on the floor for sleeping and a shower room. The rest was filled with books. I like reading in my spare time, you’ll never know when the knowledge will become useful. It was dirty as usual, because lately, I haven’t cleaned it all up. But today, something is different. There’s an owl seen perching at the window frame with a letter in purple envelop tied to his claw.
When the owl sees me, it extends its claw, like it was saying, ‘here, take this letter.’ Because I got nothing better to do, I took the envelope and opened it. The letter was written in emerald green, I suspect it would glow in the dark, but it was the content that blows me out of my mind.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your letter by owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
What kind of nonsense is this? My name is John-1513, not Mr. Potter. I tore up the letter and looked at the owl.
“Go away; I have no time for this kind of nonsense.” I opened the window and let the owl fly away, but this darn bird wouldn’t fly.
“I’m only asking once”, I said while pointing a shotgun at it.
The owl hooted like it was protesting me and then fly away. At least the owl was smart.
After that weird incident, I spent the day reading, cleaning and cooking. At night, I took out all my weapons and checked their condition. I never wanted to be caught inside a battle with a jammed weapon. It’s the same as death sentence. After all of that finished, I checked that everything is securely under bolt and key before going to sleep.
Normal people called it sleep, but I never sleep. All I can do is fall into a deep meditative state.
Morning came. And unlike other people, I didn’t feel groggy when I’m out of the meditative state, I just become ready. I took a few minutes to cook up some food (it’s edible, nutritious and tastes terrible) and proceeded with morning training. I was in the middle of my weight training when the same envelope is now on my bed. What the…? How the hell did the envelope get in? I didn’t sense anything or anyone at all.
I finished my morning training and opened the envelope. It has a much simpler content this time.
Meet me at the King’s Road, the Nest Café, today, 15.00.
Kingsley Shacklebolt
Who is this Kingsley Shacklebolt? I searched the guild network information about this name, but all I got is that Kingsley Shacklebolt is just an ordinary worker at prime minister’s office. In order to dig further info, I’ll just have to meet this guy in person. I didn’t realize it at that time, but my life was about to get turned upside down just by meeting him.
After making sure that all the scars are hidden by the specialized rubber mask, it’s time to plan my moves.
Let’s see, what to bring? In the end, I only bring a Glock equipped with suppressor, a spare magazine, several meter of steel wire, a combat knife and several vial of truth serum. All of them are being packed into the small bag with the exception of the knife, which I hid in the boot and the wire, which I store at my glove. After all preparation is complete, I left the house, only to stumble upon another assassin, a problematic one.
“Where are you going?”
The kid in front of me is a girl, with short black hair and brown eyes, and both her arms are fused with a pair of glaive. She’s one from the Hunter-Killer divisions, their main job is to root out traitors and execute them on the spot. I tried to be as calm as possible when answering her. No need to cause unnecessary alarm. I still need my life in order to get out of the guild.
“Taking a walk”, I talk in neutral tone.
“While carrying a Glock, several meters of steel wire and a combat knife? Hardly convincing at all.”
“The rules stated that I am allowed to do anything in my spare time, does it not?”
“Yes, but what are you intend to do with all that?”
“Safety measures.”
“Really? Very well then. I thought for a second you’re going to betray the guild by meeting someone outside. I should’ve known rather than to doubt the best rookie “, she said with a mocking tone.
The best rookie, yeah right. I only got that because of my high mission completion ratio, which I’m never proud of.
“Get out of my way, Hunter-Killer.”
I did not look back. If I do, I might have seen the grin on her face, a grin that marked her prey. And I might be able to prevent the tragedy by killing her in the first place.
The place indicated in the letter is quite far from the guild apartment. I had to take the bus twice. After making sure no one follows me, I get into the café. Inside, I was greeted by a tall black man, wearing a cheap brown suit sitting at the corner table. I know his face from the database, I finally meet Kingsley Shacklebolt. I take a seat at the opposing side of the table while having a Glock trained at him if he tries anything.
“So, you’re Shacklebolt. What do you want?”
“You know, I thought you’d be taller that I’d imagined.”
“Get to the point, unless you want a new breathing hole.”
“Fine. But first, I need to explain various things to you so that you wouldn’t be too confused with what I will say later.”
And then I heard a static. You got to be kidding me. They’re jamming this place, which means…
“Shacklebolt, can you use a gun?”
“Well, of course no.”
“Then you’ve just becomes a liability.”
“Why?”
“The guild is here…”
It seems that I’ve been marked for erasure. That means the entire store has been blanketed in jamming signal and the landline had been cut, ensuring the police would arrive only to find corpses, lots of corpses. At the time like this, I caused my own adrenaline level to rise, making everything to slow down because of my heightened reaction time.
I flipped the table sideways and used it for cover while several masked gunmen are entering the café and starts buffeting the entire place in hail of bullets from their submachine guns. I took out my Glock, tell Shacklebolt to hide and start to run sideways. The Glock unleashed three bullets, each hitting them in the head straight on before I dived for cover again.
The hunter-killers didn’t faze at all and just calmly reloads their gun and starts unloading them on my position again. And the one that I’ve killed just got back up again. Damn, what are they, zombies? As I racked my brain, suddenly, I heard a cracking sound and Shacklebolt are now right behind the cover with me.
The only living being in the café now only me, Shacklebolt and the Hunter-Killers. To make matters worse, each of the Hunter-Killers are now sporting a rocket launcher. It seems they didn’t even care for witnesses and I doubt these Hunter-Killers are human beings anymore.
“You can teleport?” I asked, unbelieving.
“Let’s go, John.”
He gestured at me to take his hand. Fine, I’m not going to be killed today. I took his hand, and suddenly, everything went dark.
A few hours later…
I woke up groggily on a bed. As I looked around, there’s a dark-skinned little girl sitting beside the bed. She was running screaming out of the room when I looked at her. Is my face that scary?
“DADDY! MOMMY! HE WOKE UP!”
Coming into the room is the… well what can I say, a tall dark woman with black hair. I assume she was the mother that the little girl screaming about.
“I assume you’re her mother?” I asked in a calm tone.
“Yes. And I didn’t appreciate you being in my house for another minute. Scaring my little girl like that. I don’t know what Kingsley is thinking when he brought you home. I don’t care if you’re the Boy-Who-Lived or whatever, he should’ve reported you to the Ministry of Magic and let the Auror sort you out…”
I was this close of tearing her tongue out when Kingsley bolted into the room.
“Honey, please. Just let me handle this.”
“I want him out by one hour,” she scoffed.
After Shacklebolt’s wife is out of the room, I asked,” What the hell is all that? Boy-Who-Lived? Ministry of Magic? Auror? What are you?”
“I’m afraid all that would take a bit of explanation.”
And that bit of explanation turns out to be a very long description about a hidden society of magic users in this world. They’re governed by what they called Ministry of Magic and Auror are some sort of secret police that hunts down dark magic users.
Apparently, I’m the rumoured Boy-Who-Lived. It seems that about nine or ten years ago, there was a war between regular magic users and dark magic users. The dark magic users, wanting to use their power to subjugate the entire world, bands together under one organization named Death Eater and were led by someone named Voldemort (Shacklebolt insists on calling him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, which I will not do because it’s too long and inefficient).
Voldemort, using the ideology that was similar to Hitler’s, a dogma that praises the superiority of the magic users and that all non-magic users (Muggles, Shacklebolt corrected) should be at their beck and call. Like all history, many flocked to it, being promised of life like kings.
The magic users who opposed them also make a rebel faction named The Order of the Phoenix. Unfortunately, due to Death Eaters superior tactics and logistics, they’re hunted down and killed one by one. What’s left of the Order of the Phoenix has gone into hiding.
But even that didn’t last. Someone from inside the Order sold them out. Many were killed in the hiding, not even sparing the young ones. Until of course, Voldemort arrived to personally kill the Potters family, which at that time, Harry, their child was just approaching ten months old.
Both James and Lily Potter’s death was confirmed to be swift and brutal. But after that, Voldemort and Harry Potter disappeared. Without a central figure to rally upon, Death Eaters falls into internal strife and was able to be defeated.
“So you think that I’m this... Harry Potter?”
“Yes, unfortunately.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Your magic pattern matches with Harry Potter’s.”
“Magic pattern?”
“Yes. Each magic user, once born, has magical pattern inside their body that can be traced.”
“If so, why can’t you trace Harry Potter back then?”
“We were still at war. Once it’s done, we’ve searched high and low for you. But it’s like you didn’t exist at all. And the magic sensor just detected a while ago when you did the deed.”
He’s talking about the assassination.
“Impossible, I’ve taken care of the security measures at that place. How in the world you know?”
“What you destroyed is just things that the Muggles made. We have other means for detection.”
“Okay, say that I’m this Harry Potter. What then? It’s not like I can go out into the world and announce that I’m Harry Potter. And it seems that this,” I took out the letter from Hogwarts,” will not make it easy.”
“Just like old Dumbledore. I think this was his plan, to secure you before others could get to you.”
“Fine then. I have a plan, and I’ll need your help.”
“As long as it within my power.”
As I told him about my plan, just a part of it that he needs to execute, his face brightens considerably.
“Yes, that might just work. I’ll have to talk with them, but I’m sure that they’ll agree. Oh yes, here’s something that you’ll need.”
“I’ll be going now.”
I packed all my belongings and things that I received from Shacklebolt (a map, a stack of paper and a key) into my bag.
Despite just woken up, my body feels refreshed. I left their house a few minutes ago under his wife’s scoffing, and now walking down the London streets. There’re a few secret hideouts where I build and fill with supplies just for occasions like this. It was bought and furnished using clean cash so the guild cannot track them. I walked into an alley and opened a manhole after making sure nobody is watching me.
The sewer smells the same as always, dank and assaulting. I tried to ignore it while walking, the guild could quickly track me down if I’m using any public transportation, so for now, this is the safest way for me to travel anywhere.
After walking for a while and making a few turns, I emerged behind another alley and headed towards a particular dumpster. With a heave, I rotate the dumpster sideways so that the backside is facing me. I pry open a camouflaged plate to reveal a pack wrapped in brown paper. I was going to transfer the items into my bag when two gang members, walk inside the alley and decided to harass me.
“Hey, George, look what we got here…”
“It’s a bloody kid, Will. What have you got there?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Oh-ho-ho, nobody talks to us like that, isn’t that right, George?”
“Yes, Will. Now how do we usually handle this?”
“This is your last warning. Leave… ”, I said to them as I picked up a few wads of cash and store them inside my bag.
They see it and gets agitated.
“Lookit that, Will. That’s lots of cash. We could get us some booty.”
“Yeah, George, and still enough for a coke party. Hand it over, pretty boy.”
A few minutes later…
The two gang members are now slumped on the alley floor with a few broken bones. They cannot scream or even whimper because I’ve crushed their voice cord. I have finished packing everything into my bag. But before I leave, I rigged a C4 to the dumpster and gone inside the manhole. After taking a walk for a few minutes, I push the trigger button on the remote. The explosion can even be heard this far underground. Well, if they’re lucky, they would survive with just a third degree burn.
I estimated I’ve walked for a few miles before I opened another manhole, and emerged to yet another back alley. But this alley is behind an old dingy pub named appropriately, the Leaky Cauldron. I opened the stack of paper that Shacklebolt gave me and memorized everything. The stack of paper is now ash.
The Leaky Cauldron is a pub. It’s a stinking, dark, gloomy, grubby-looking pub. There are a few patrons drinking and chatting, but all activity died down as they realized a new guy just walked in. I can sense their trepidation. I quickly made my way through without maintaining eye contact with anyone. But I was stopped by the bartender.
“Hey, boy. Where do you think you’re going?”
Better play it safe. I don’t need any more trouble. And besides, I’m ill-equipped to deal with a room full of witches and wizards. I can kill them all, but it is a pointless waste of resources and time.
“Diagon Alley.”
And like that, all of them resumed whatever they’re doing at that moment while the bartender just ignored me. I make my way across the bar and arrived at a small, walled-off courtyard. There was nothing there but trash cans and weeds that grew everywhere. Let’s see, three up and two across. I tapped at the brick three times with my finger.
A second later, an archway appeared, showing the Diagon Alley. As I walked through the archway closed. Guess I got to remember which brick to tap later on. The roads are filled with all kinds of shop and facilities. Most are geared towards wizards and witches things. I headed towards the Gringotts, a bank for wizards and passed the goblins guarding the front gate using only spears. Such light security.
I entered to the inner hall through a second set of silver door. The hall was filled with goblins of all kinds, all handling bank duties. If this was a bank, their security truly lacks, I can find at least three glaring security holes. I noticed a free counter and got in front of it.
“I need to make a withdrawal from Harry Potter’s safe”, I said while showing the golden key I got from Shacklebolt.
“You have his key.”
The goblin inspects it closely.
“Very well, everything seems to be in order. I will have someone to take you down to the vault. Griphook!”
Long story short, I got my money (I don’t think they use pounds here). They should be enough to last me for a few years. Now, to buy the things needed for this so-called Hogwarts. If I’m going to have an edge against the wizards, I should learn their ways.
Well, first stop, Madam Malkin’s Robe for All Occasions. I entered, and see a short witch dressed in mauve. As she seems to be busy, I silently took a seat that was reserved for customers and then proceeds to analyze the room. It’s a habit of mine, but it saves my skin more than once, so I never let it go. I make note of how many doors and windows, where they are positioned and how many steps it takes to reach it.
As I was deep in thought, suddenly Madam Malkin spoke to me.
“Hogwarts, dear? Got the lot here – a young man being fitted up just now.”
“Ah well, here is my size and the specs of the robe I wanted you to make.”
I handed her my own custom robe design.
“Oh my, well, this design is quite complex. Are you sure?”
“Yes. How much will it be?”
“That would be three Galleons for the materials and another Galleon for the works for a total of four Galleons.”
In the back of the shop, a pale pointed face boy with blond hair is being fitted by a second witch. I paid him no mind and pay the amount to Madam Malkin. I was just going to get out when the blond kid called me.
“Hello,” said the boy, “Hogwarts, too?”
“Yeah. Good day to you.”
I have no patience in dealing with kids so I left the shop immediately. Next, my destination is a book shop named Flourish and Blotts. I bought not only the book for the semester, but also the book for the next semester until I graduated from Hogwarts and a few more reference books that I feel important. I ended up have to buy a cart just to carry them all.
The cart however, proves useful to carry all of the things I’ve bought. Anyway, I need to procure a safe house immediately, I don’t want to pull this cart anywhere with me any longer than necessary. After asking (and subtly manipulating) a few people, I found some dilapidated house that was for sale. The price is quite cheap and the neighbourhood is quite secure from my standpoint.
After paying quite a generous amount to the previous owner, I am now a proud owner of a dilapidated two story house with a basement. The house is damaged beyond repair, but I don’t really mind. But with some modification, I might be able to turn this into a functional house. I might have to add a turret or ten in order to strengthen the perimeter though.
I entered the house, found the most clean room and dump all the contents of the cart there. I leave the house after setting a few traps around it.
The next store I need to be is… where’s the list? Ah, a pet and a wand. Shouldn’t be so difficult.
First thing, pet store.
Next few hours later…
I got out from the store carrying only foul mood. All those pets are useless; all they are good for is just to peck on someone’s knee. I scoured at least twenty pet stores and nothing suits my need. I’ll just suspend it for now, guess the wand is next.
Next few hours later…
Should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. It’s just a wand, how hard could it be? Apparently, all of the wands choose their owner. Great. The last one is Ollivander’s, better not getting my hopes up.
A tinkling rang when I opened the door. I was greeted by an old man with a wide pale eye.
“I’m here for a wand.”
“Yes, yes. Hogwarts, right? What’s your name?”
“John Smith.”
“Well now – Mr. Smith. Which one is your wand arm?”
“I’m ambidextrous.”
“Hold up your arm, well, whatever arm you wanted – that’s it.”
He took out a measuring tape and starts measuring my arms and legs. What the hell does legs supposed to do with wands? And while he measuring it, he began spewing his, what was it called… sales pitch.
“Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Smith. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard’s wand.”
“Look, Mister Ollivander, not to be rude, I’ve heard all of this sales pitch from the first right down to the tenth store that also sells wands like yours. I’m losing my patience in a very rapid manner, so please just get right to it.”
“Yes, quite so, I imagine it would be quite boring after fifth one. Alright then... “, he took a box of premade wand and put it in front of me,” let’s just try it a box at a time then…”
After twenty or so box, I’ve lost count of how many wands I’ve tested…
“This is useless. I don’t think there’s any wand that would be compatible with me.”
“Humbug! There’s no way that’ll happen. Here’s the last one. I never get this one out because of its… quirk.”
He opened the box, and revealed what seems to be a bracer with four type of gem melded on it.
“What the hell is this? It doesn’t look like any other wand.”
“It doesn’t. It’s a magic amplifier. Do you know why all wands only have one core?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s to stabilize the flow of magic energy. Each core has unique characteristic, so they only matched to one person only. This bracer however, made from four different woods, melded by orihalcum metal. It has four cores, a phoenix feather, a dragon heartstring, a unicorn mane and a thestral’s eye.”
“And I bet it costs a lot.”
“No, not at all, Mr. Smith. You see, one thing I like most of all is challenge. And it’s been a challenge to find you a suitable wand. If this bracer is exactly the one you need, you don’t need to pay me at all.”
I picked up the bracer and try to wear it in my right hand. It’s a bit big, but suddenly gets smaller to fit my arm size.
“Hmm, neat.”
“It… It worked… Astounding… After many generations... ”
He seems to be shocked and just sat down on a nearby chair; muttering something incoherent that I can’t be bothered with.
“So, I guess I’ll take this then.”
I leave the store while Ollivander still sat there mumbling like a possessed person. I don’t feel any different though, the bracer just looks like ordinary bracer to me. Ah well, at least the wand problem is solved. Guess now it’s time to learn some elementary magic.
I bought something normal enough to eat and headed to my safe house. Luckily, none of traps are triggered, meaning that there’s no one that stupid enough to enter my house. I spend the rest of the night and the next many weeks poring and practising over every book that I’ve bought. It was hard, but very interesting nonetheless.
Now I know about one thousand magical plants and what their effects are. I also can recall about hundreds of potion recipes, but I mostly concentrate on counter-poison, it’s easier to make and will not cross any legal law in this magic world. As for magic spells, well, as the holes in my house can attest, it’s extremely difficult to tone down the power. The bracer really augments my power and control to a very high level. Even a low level spell like Expelliarmus can have devastating results; just ask the poor kitchen sink.
And after mastering everything that can be learned from the books, I proceeded to train my body while waiting for September to arrive.
Chapter 1 End
Epilogue
“Subject 1501, terminated. Cause of death, massive blood loss trauma. Transfer the remains to the cloning facility. Bring in the next one.”
“Subject 1502, terminated. Cause of death, heart failure. Transfer the remains to the cloning facility. Bring in the next one.”
“Subject 1503, terminated. Cause of death, liver failure. Transfer the remains to the cloning facility. Bring in the next one.”
“Subject 1504, terminated. Cause of death, undetermined. Transfer the remains to the cloning facility. Bring in the next one.”
“Subject 1505, terminated. Cause of death, undetermined. Transfer the remains to the cloning facility. Bring in the next one.”
“Subject 1506, terminated. Cause of death, acute lung cancer. Transfer the remains to the cloning facility. Bring in the next one.”
“Subject 1507, terminated. Cause of death, graft rejection. Transfer the remains to the cloning facility. Bring in the next one.”
“Subject 1508, terminated. Cause of death, spontaneous molecular combustion. Transfer the remains to the cloning facility. Bring in the next one.”
“Subject 1509, terminated. Cause of death, burned spinal cord. Transfer the remains to the cloning facility. Bring in the next one.”
“Subject 1510, terminated. Cause of death, graft rejection. Transfer the remains to the cloning facility. Bring in the next one.”
“Subject 1511, terminated. Cause of death, undeveloped higher brain function. Transfer the remains to the cloning facility. Bring in the next one.”
“Subject 1512, terminated. Cause of death, undetermined. Transfer the remains to the cloning facility. Bring in the next one.”
“Subject 1513. Male, one year old. No sign of external or internal injury, save for a lightning scar on the forehead. Compatibility level is very high. Expected IQ level after grafting is 530. Expected survival rate, twenty seven percent.”
“Grafting process successful. Subject is still alive. We now have a candidate for Project Thanatos. Send the original to the guild for training and have the copy DNA set to the cloning facility. Have them prepare 500.000 backups.”
A Random Theatre Comedy Sketch:
I got a call from my editor this morning, which I’m not too happy to receive.
“Mr. Zero. You need to include an omake in this story.”
“What the hell is that?”
“Just Google it; it’s what the upper brass wants. It sells the story more. ”
“And if I don’t want to?”
“Expect to be on the street looking for trash to eat.”
(Can’t argue with that reasoning.) “Fine.”
After looking at the wiki description of what omake is, my head immediately throbbed. Me, a zero-sense-humour-author, has to write that?
“Unbelievable.”
“Yeah it is.”
Wait a minute, I was supposed to be alone in this room, so whose voice is it?
I slowly turn around to see.
“Why did you get out again?” I asked the person who was in front of me.
“Why not? You need at least an actor in a play right?”
Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, the eponymous main character of this story, John-1513 or as some reader would point out, fake Harry Potter (or is it real, I don’t know).
“Alright, fine, fine. Let’s just begin. So, introduce yourself then.”
“My name is John-1513, age 11. I’ve been trained to kill by an organization called The Guild.”
“Okay, that’s it for the summary. Now we will read some fake e-mail that I’ve prepared beforehand.”
“You really need to get laid.”
“Shut up. If I’m busy getting laid, how am I supposed find time to write this story. Anyway, first fake e-mail. This here comes from
randomname1_somerandomnumber1@[deleted].com
.”
“I expect a laugh track to play right now.”
“Please don’t break the fourth wall again. You did it the last time and world war one happened.”
“Speak for yourself. Isn’t writing yourself into your own story broke the fourth wall as well?”
“Anyway, here’s the first email from randomname1. ‘Dear author, your writing sucks. Go die.’”
“You really need to get laid; I know this great chick from...”
“Wait a minute. This is not what I’ve prepared before. What the heck...?”
“Somebody just hacked your fake email account?”
“Wait? How can a fake account being... Alright, fine, let’s continue with the second one. Let’s see... ‘Onii-chan... MARRRY MEEE!!!’ What the f...?
(jiiiii...) I got stared by John. It hurts...
“Okay, look, this is obviously a prank. I think we’ll just ditch the fake emails and start improvising.”
(jiiiii...) I still got stared. Feels like I’m being stabbed in the back.
“Look I don’t even have a sister. Alright, question one, are you a clone?”
“Yes.”
“That was short, anything else you’d like to add?”
“Yes, I don’t care what your preferences are; just don’t include me in it.”
I fall from my chair instantly.
“What’s with that reaction, we’re not in some sort of comedy anime you know.”
“F#$% it! See you all next time!”
And suddenly, credits rolls.
