Harry Potter and the System's Awakening
Chapter 1: The Cupboard and the Click
Six-year-old Harry Potter huddled miserably in the dark, musty space under the stairs. It was cold. The cupboard never had proper heating, and the mud from Dudley's latest masterpiece – pushing Harry headfirst into a particularly deep puddle by the shed – had seeped through his threadbare shirt, leaving him clammy and chilled to the bone. His shoulder ached where he'd hit the pavement. His stomach growled with an empty, familiar ache.
A quiet, persistent sob worked its way up his throat, quickly muffled by the sleeves he pulled desperately over his mouth. Crying only ever brought trouble. Aunt Petunia hated noisy 'freaks'. Uncle Vernon just bellowed and sometimes... well, Harry didn't like to think about it. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, pressing his face against the rough wood of the cupboard wall.
He wished he was somewhere else. Anywhere else. Somewhere warm, somewhere quiet, somewhere people didn't shout or push or lock him away like broken luggage. He wished, more than anything, that things were different. That someone, anyone, would just... help.
He wished with every ounce of lonely, hurting desire a small child could muster.
And then, something strange happened. Not like the usual strange things that happened around him, the unexplainable bursts of whatever-it-was that earned him punishment. This was different. It felt... internal, at first. A tiny, almost silent click behind his eyes, like a forgotten lock turning.
Then, in the pitch black of the cupboard, a soft, translucent blue light flickered into existence about a foot in front of his face. It didn't light up the cupboard; the light seemed contained, somehow only visible to him. It was like staring into a pale, glowing pool of water.
Hesitantly, his eyes still red-rimmed, Harry dared to open them and focus on the light. It solidified, becoming a smooth, glowing pane, like a window floating in the air. White text began to appear on it, crisp and easy to read, despite the darkness.
📜 [SYSTEM BOOTING...]
Harry stared, his breath hitching. Booting? Like Uncle Vernon's computer when he turned it on? But this wasn't a computer. It was just... floating here. Was he dreaming? Had he hit his head harder than he thought?
More text resolved itself on the screen.
🧠 [Welcome, Player: Harry James Potter]
Harry James Potter. That was him. It knew his name. His full name. He blinked, sniffing back tears that had abruptly stopped flowing out of sheer astonishment. Player? What was a player? Was he in a game? Dudley sometimes got new video games, but Harry was never allowed to touch them. This didn't look like Dudley's games anyway.
The screen shifted, the initial messages fading, replaced by more organised blocks of text and icons.
📊 [STATS]
Name: Harry Potter
Level: 1
HP: 50/50
MP: 10/10
STR: 3
DEX: 4
INT: 8
WIS: 6
LUK: 15
CHA: 9
Harry squinted at the words. Stats? Level? HP? MP? He didn't understand. STR… maybe that was like how strong you were? 3 didn't sound like much. DEX? Making things with his hands? 4? INT – intelligent? Smart? 8? That was higher than 3 and 4! Maybe he was smart? LUK... 15? That was the highest! Was that luck? He certainly didn't feel very lucky right now, locked in the cupboard. CHA... he didn't know that word.
As he pondered this strange display, another notification popped up above the STATs window.
🧠 [NEW SKILL ACQUIRED!]
[Gamer's Mind Lv. 1] – Allows the user to calmly and logically think through situations without being unduly affected by negative emotions, mental stress, or psychological attacks. Enhances focus.
As he read the words "Gamer's Mind," a subtle change washed over him. It was like the raw, hurting despair that had clung to him moments before suddenly... receded. It didn't disappear entirely, he could still feel the dull ache of sadness and fear, but it was muted, distant. He was still sad, still scared, still cold and hungry and miserable, but now... he could think. The frantic, panicky edge was gone, replaced by a strange, cool clarity. He could look at the floating screen without his mind feeling foggy and overwhelmed. It worked.
He focused back on the main screen, and another, larger window appeared, centered on the display.
🎯 [NEW QUEST RECEIVED!]
Title: Survive the Week
Goal: Avoid Dudley's violent games. Minimize interactions with Petunia. Ensure daily food intake (minimum one meal/day). Do not reveal the existence of the System.
Progress: 0/7 days survived safely
Reward: +100 EXP, +1 LUK, unlock passive skill [Pain Resistance I]
Failure: Serious injury, revelation of the System, prolonged starvation. Unknown penalties.
A quest? Like in the knights and dragons stories he'd sneakily read the pictures of at the library? Survive the Week. The words settled in his strangely calm mind. Avoiding Dudley? Staying away from Aunt Petunia? Finding food? That was just... his life. Every single day. The System wasn't asking him to fight a dragon or save a princess. It was asking him to keep doing the hardest thing he already did.
But it called it a Quest. It put a name on it. It made his struggle into... a challenge? And it had a Reward. EXP, whatever that was. More LUK – maybe being luckier was a good thing? And... Pain Resistance? That sounded very, very useful.
He looked at the floating windows – his strange 'stats', the calming skill, the challenging 'quest'. They were impossible. They made no sense. This shouldn't be real. Yet, here they were. And for the first time all day, for the first time in what felt like a very, very long time, huddled in the cold darkness with an aching body and an empty stomach, a small, hesitant, entirely real smile curved the lips of Harry Potter.
He wasn't just Harry anymore. He was also a Player. And he had a quest. Maybe... maybe things wouldn't be exactly the same anymore.