Backyard, Privet Drive – 7:50 AM, July 20, 1991
The sun poured over Azrael—now Harry James Potter—like molten gold, his Kryptonian cells soaking it in like a lifeline. His green-gold eyes, sharp as a hawk's, glinted beneath the lightning scar, as the System's mechanical voice delivered the rewards he'd just claimed.
[Beginner's Starter Pack Opened.
Rewards: 10,000 System Points (SP).
Eidetic Memory.
Valor Phoenix Egg.
Enhanced Mana Flow and Resistance.]
A holographic interface flickered in his mind, gold text scrolling with cold precision. Azrael's lips curled into a calculated smirk, his genius brain already weighing the haul. "Ten thousand SP. Not bad, but a computer blueprint's 800, so I'm not swimming in cash yet." He crossed his arms, mind sharp. "Enough to grab a few key upgrades and start my climb."
The Eidetic Memory perk was a game-changer. His mind became a steel trap, every anime, manga, light novel, and business tidbit from his past life locked in perfect clarity. This wasn't about reliving glory days—it was about cash. 1991 was wide open, and he knew stories that could print money. Eiichiro Oda's One Piece wouldn't hit for six years, Masashi Kishimoto's Naruto for nine, Tetsuya Nomura's Final Fantasy VII a distant dream. Sorey's Tales of Zestiria was decades off. "I could sell One Piece as a manga," he murmured, eyes narrowing. "Pirates and treasure? Instant hit. Or Naruto as a comic. Quick bucks, no hassle."
The Valor Phoenix Egg sparked his unpredictable side. Drawing from mythic phoenixes like Fawkes—regenerative, awe-inspiring—this egg promised more. "Valor," Azrael said, voice low. "Cosmic flames, reality-warping potential. You're my ticket to strength." He pictured a phoenix with midnight feathers flecked with starfire, its cry shaking worlds. "Hatch fast, and we'll break every chain."
The Enhanced Mana Flow and Resistance was a silent blade. His magical circuits surged like a storm, ready for spells to shatter mountains, while curses would slide off him like dust. "Voldemort's a pest," he said, voice cold, confident. "I'm beyond his reach."
[Daily Sign-In Bonus Claimed. Reward: Mind Fortress Perk. Complete immunity to mind control, legilimency, and psychic intrusions.]
Azrael's smirk tightened, his calculative mind assessing. "No cosmic gear. Shame." Then his eyes flashed. "Mind Fortress? Dumbledore's mind tricks are dead. Snape's got no shot." Immunity to psychic attacks was a shield for his plans—especially the ones involving Luna's oddity, Hermione's wit, Daphne's edge. He let the thought linger, then refocused. Women were a bonus; freedom was the goal.
He stood, the sun's energy thrumming in his veins, his Kryptonian physiology forging his 16-year-old body into a weapon—lean, honed, a predator's poise.
"System, specs on the Valor Phoenix Egg."
[Valor Phoenix Egg: A unique, unhatched companion. Traits: Cosmic regeneration, multiversal flame manipulation, potential reality-warping abilities. Requires solar energy and emotional resonance to hatch.]
"Reality-warping?" Azrael's brow arched, a spark of unpredictability flaring. "You're a beast." He glanced skyward, mind plotting. Three days until the Hogwarts letter. The Dursleys were a shackle, and freedom required wealth and power. "Time to move."
POV -Petunia Dursley
Petunia gripped the kitchen curtain, her squib heart racing. Harry stood in the backyard, still as stone, the sun painting him in unearthly light. No glasses, just eyes like green knives, too sharp for the boy she'd caged. Her breath hitched, Lily's magic—teacups dancing, flowers glowing—dwarfed by this… anomaly."He's not hers," she whispered, glancing at Vernon, who was tearing his newspaper, muttering about "freaks." Dudley was upstairs, raiding snacks.Petunia's fear deepened. Harry's scar seemed to pulse, his presence heavy, like a predator leashed. "What have we unleashed?" she murmured, dread curling tight.
Back to Azrael-
Azrael strode toward the house, the sun's power coiling in his bones. He could hear a neighbor's TV two streets over, smell fresh bread a mile away. His senses were a tool, and he was sharpening them.
The kitchen door creaked as he entered, and the Dursleys froze. Vernon's fork dripped grease, Petunia's eyes locked on his bare face—glasses gone, intensity raw.
Dudley choked on a bun."Morning," Azrael said, voice smooth, a blade sheathed in silk. He snatched an apple, tossing it with precision. "Don't mind me."Vernon's face reddened. "Where's your glasses, boy? Playing tough now?"Azrael bit the apple, chewing deliberately, his gaze pinning Vernon like prey. "Eyes don't need them." He tilted his head, letting a hint of Kryptonian aura leak—enough to make the air thick. "Call it progress."
Petunia's voice quavered. "That's not—""Magic," Azrael cut in, his tone final, daring her to push. Vernon spluttered, but Azrael's mind was elsewhere. Freedom needed money, and money needed a spark. One Piece, Naruto—they could rake in thousands, but publishers wanted capital. Tech like Linux or a proto-USB needed funding. Then it clicked: super-speed.A cold smirk flickered. Vernon's wallet was upstairs, stuffed with pounds from his shady drilling deals. "I've slaved for their chores, taken their fists," Azrael muttered, ascending the stairs.
"That cash is mine." In a blur, faster than a blink, he slipped into Vernon's bedroom, rifled a dresser, and pocketed £1,000 in crisp notes. "Borrowed," he said, voice sharp. "Payment for services rendered."In the bathroom, he locked the door and stripped, his reflection a portrait of power—lean, defined, the lightning scar a glowing mark.
"Hogwarts at 16 is ideal," he said, voice low. "Luna's a mystery to solve, Hermione a mind to rival, Daphne a fortress to crack. They're worth the wait." The shower steamed, water cascading as his mind churned. £1,000 was a foothold, but not enough. Casinos were too loud, too tracked in the morning. The black market, though—fences, smugglers, underground dealers—could multiply his cash. "Sell some 'found' goods, maybe fake a relic with magic," he mused. "High stakes, high payout."
Diagon Alley crossed his mind. Gringotts gold was close, but Dumbledore's web was tighter. "That meddling fossil would sniff me out," he said, toweling off. "I'll hit the wizarding world post-letter, my way."
Knowledge was the priority. His eidetic memory could devour libraries, making him a living archive. "Every book, every fact—I'll own them all."Dressed in Harry's oversized rags (mental note: torch these), he descended, ignoring the Dursleys' stares. "Out," he said, grabbing a jacket. Vernon surged up, roaring, "You'll do your—"
Azrael's gaze sliced through, Kryptonian aura pressing like a vice. "Sit." His voice was ice, no negotiation. Vernon collapsed, face purple. Petunia grabbed his arm, whispering, "Let him go."Azrael's lips twitched, a calculated smirk. "Smart." The door slammed behind him.
Surrey Libraries – 10:00 AM to 5:30 PM
Azrael hit the first library at super-speed, a ghost through Surrey's streets, £1,000 tucked in his pocket. His eidetic memory was a machine, absorbing every book—science, economics, history, tech. By noon, he'd cleared three libraries, his mind a vault of data. Linux's code, 1991's proto-internet, Apple's PowerBook—all filed for later. One Piece's pacing, Naruto's themes—he dissected them like a strategist, planning pitches for fast cash.
At the fourth library, closing at 6:00 PM, he arrived at 5:40, the clock ticking. Moving at super-speed, he tore through shelves, fingers grazing spines as his mind swallowed thousands of pages in ten minutes. He'd found minor magical texts earlier—basic charms, potion recipes—but they were child's play.
At 5:45, a leather-bound book in a dusty corner stopped him cold. It pulsed with magical energy, its signature a roar against his mana circuits."Not like the others," he muttered, calculative mind alert. As his fingers touched the cover, golden threads erupted, wrapping his hand, his arm, his body in a radiant web.
The book trembled, then dissolved into light, reforming as a silver ring that slid onto his right index finger, warm and unyielding. The air hummed, and a spectral book materialized before him, pages flipping open to reveal glowing text.
[Welcome, Heir of Gryffindor.]
Azrael's jaw tightened, shock breaking his composure. "Gryffindor's heir? Me?" The ring pulsed, the spectral book shimmering with notes—Godric Gryffindor's spells, hidden vaults, enchanted relics. "This is… power," he whispered, mind racing. "Political clout, magical leverage, maybe gold.
Freedom's closer than I thought."He tried to store the ring in his Infinite Inventory, but it clung to his finger, immovable. "Stubborn," he said, eyes narrowing. "I'll crack your secrets later." The library was empty, the clock at 5:50. He tucked the spectral book's image into his memory, its notes a treasure map for later. His calculative mind spun: use Gryffindor's legacy to access wealth, fund his money-making schemes, and carve his place at Hogwarts.
The System chimed, sharp and sudden.[Notice: The two gifts from the Old God have been delivered. Would you like to activate them now?]
Azrael froze, pulse spiking. The curse and blessing—a cosmic curveball. His smirk was a blade, fearless and hungry. "Old man, you're playing dirty." He stood in the library's dim light, the Gryffindor ring warm on his finger, the sun fading outside. "System, activate them."
Author's Note:
Azrael's chasing freedom, and the Gryffindor heir twist just lit the fuse! Expect calculated moves, subtle harem seeds with Luna, Hermione, and Daphne, and cosmic stakes in Next Chapters.
Drop a comment if you're hyped for his cash hustle or that Valor Phoenix Egg. Thanks for riding this freedom train!