Harry Potter: Dimensional Wizard

This is a new HP fanfic that I'm working on called HP: Multiverse of Madness.

It's more grounded, explores, and expands more on the HP magic system, and the MC is not as dark/evil/chaotic neutral. He's not a hero but still someone with a decent moral compass, unless his family is involved.

I will release the first five chapters, so tell me your opinion. By the way, I will delete this chapter in 24 to 36 hours.

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A young boy walked out of a school dressed in a blue blazer, white shirt, black pants, and black dress shoes. His black skin glistened under the shining sun, displaying his youthful vigor. He heard many people talking to him and moved his head, displaying his well-trimmed hair on the front, side, and back.

"Goodbye, Christian."

"See you tomorrow."

Christian waved at these people with a smile before arriving at his destination. He entered a beige Mercedes-Benz 190E, sitting on the back.

"Aunt," he saluted as he kissed the driver on the cheek. She was a relatively plump woman dressed in a blue suit and skirt, a gold bracelet on her right hand, a black gold watch, long, straight hair, and small diamond earrings that gave her a sense of authority.

"Good, maybe a little too easy and slow," replied Christian, placing his bag away and putting on his seatbelt.

"That's expected, especially since school has just started." Eleanor moved her from the back, focusing on the steering wheel. "Have you eaten? We still have some time."

"I'm not hungry."

"Ok," she began to drive, and the two conversed during the ride. A few minutes later, Eleanor suddenly snapped her finger. "Where is my mind? Your schedule has changed, and I'm going the wrong way." She looked around the lane to find a turn before changing the route.

"Why didn't you remind me?" She then remembered something and shook her head. "I don't understand why your mother insists on packing your schedule to the brim every year. Last year, you started fencing lessons, and now she wants you to learn Capoeira. Not to mention your archery lessons on Thursday and Saturday. All of these on top of your other after-school courses."

"Well, it's not that bad. With Capoeira, archery is only two days a week."

"Do you even like these activities?"

Christian paused, "Fencing is fine, but I don't much care for the others."

"Then, you should tell her that."

"I did, but she said I only need to continue until next year, then I can choose how I want my schedule."

"Next year, you'll be 11, right?"

"Right," replied Christian, who sensed a difference in his aunt's words. "Is there something?"

"No, nothing," replied Eleanor calmly. "Instead of putting all this pressure on you, she should spend more time at home instead of gallivanting god knows where."

"I'm sure…she has her reason."

Eleanor snorted coldly and did not talk much, making the rest of the journey too quiet and slightly awkward. They arrived at their destination a few minutes later, and she walked out of the car.

"I'll be busy with a case this afternoon, so my assistant will drive you to Capoeira lessons and drive you home."

"Who are you suing this time?" asked Christian.

"No one, just dealing with the paperwork for some douchebag who has inherited a lot of money and thinks he's better than everybody else," she said calmly as she rearranged his clothes and tie, making Christian momentarily speechless.

"You don't sound happy."

"Well, the job has its ups and downs, mostly downs. Don't mind me," said Eleanor. "Oh, before I forget, don't forget your drink." She ran back to the car and gave him a package. Christian's eyes lit up after seeing the bottles inside. After fencing, he's usually exhausted and has no energy for capoeira, but after this drink, he's always full and re-energized.

Christian kissed his aunt before entering the building, changing, and proceeding with the lesson. It has been a year since he started learning fencing, and like most things he tried, he was advancing rapidly. However, despite the praises of the coaches and his fellow fencers, he cared very little about this sport, so each practice was a chore for him.

He was happy once the whole thing finished as he could talk with a few friends. Sadly, he did not have much time as he had another destination.

"Hello, Robert," saluted Christian, gazing at the tall, white, and stern-looking man with thick glasses before him.

"Christian! How was your day?"

"As good as it could get."

"Is that so? In that case, let's go."

The entire drive was silent, but Christian did not mind. Robert was such a person, and he was used to it. Capoeira was as dull as fencing but even more painful since he often had to roll on the floor to learn different evading methods. The rhythm aspect of this martial art was exciting but not enough.

After practice, Robert —who waited for the entire process—brought him to a restaurant for dinner since his aunt was busy at the firm. It was almost 7 PM when he arrived home, and Christian knew he had a short period before his next lesson. He rushed to take a shower and waited.

At seven o'clock sharp, a middle-aged man in attire that screamed "professor" walked into the large mansion with a one-hand bag strapped over his right shoulder.

"Professor Hallmark, always a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine."

Christian led him inside, where he served tea. After a brief chit-chat, Hallmark asked: "I assume your homework is done?"

"Of course." Christian handed him more than five papers full of writing, and the professor did not waste time as he immediately began to read. Once in a while, he would mark something on the paper, and Christian had to concentrate and not look. After more than ten minutes, Professor Hallmark sighed out loud, "It always amazed me how much progress you have made in only two weeks."

Christian saw a look of awe, respect, and envy from the latter, but he only smiled politely. "I heard from Professor Henry that you were a prodigy, but I did not believe it. Now, I have to admit he was wrong. By the way, how many languages do you know?"

"How many? If you're talking about modern languages, there are English, French, Haitian Creole, Spanish, German, Swahili, Hausa, and Yoruba. As for dead languages, I've only learned Latin and Ancient Greek, and I'm still learning Old and Middle English from you."

"Amazing," praised Hallmark. He knew that if parents took the time and effort and had the resources, even ordinary children could learn up to 5 languages by the time they reached ten years old. In the early development of their brain, it's a lot easier for children to learn languages, so many wealthy children's families will take this opportunity to ensure their children are bi- or multilingual.

However, it was a grand feat for Christian to learn so many, let alone learn dead languages as well.

"It seems you're very talented in linguistics."

"Just slightly," uttered Christian in a low voice. Languages have always been easy for him, sometimes too easy. When translating things or seeing unknown words, their definition or meaning would oftentimes flow into his mind as if he were a native speaker. He never told anyone of this, not even his mother.

"Just slight?" Hallmark shook his head. "Have you been tested by societies like Mensa? You might be gifted."

"My aunt brought the idea, but my mother refused. She said titles like gifted, genius, and high IQ might do me more harm than good."

"She might have a point. It's not uncommon for child prodigies to crash under the weight of their gifts," nodded Professor Hallmark, who decided to change the subject. "Do you plan to learn more languages?"

"Probably." He loved languages, so it was one of the few things he did not complain about that his mother encouraged him to partake in.

"Oh, do you have something in mind?"

"If I choose a modern language, it will be Mandarin or Arabic. If I choose another dead language, it will be between Sanskrit or Ancient Egyptian."

"I recommend learning modern and ancient Egyptian at the same time."

"That's an idea worth contemplating."

"If you do, I know an excellent professor," suggested Professor Hallmark before starting his lesson. He thought Christian methodically while secretly sighing. When he first learned of this request for a private tutor, he only accepted it because of the large sum and with the expectation that his visit would be short.

Many young children found old or dead languages boring, and he needed to teach a child Old English before proceeding to Middle English. Then, Professor Henry convinced and told him he might not teach there for long because of how fast and easily the child absorbed knowledge.

He was genuinely shocked on the first day of the job.

'All languages have commonality, so it's easier for someone bilingual to learn. However, even with this fact, Christian's improvement is outrageous,' thought Professor Hallmark as he walked out of the room.

After the lesson, Aunt Eleanor was back, so Christian had supper with her before walking upstairs. He walked into the music room that contained a piano and a violin. According to his usual schedule, he chose the piano to practice tonight; this lasted for thirty minutes until 10:30 PM.

He took another shower, brushed his teeth, and cared for his hygiene before Aunt Eleanor tucked him into bed. Christian watched her leave before holding the chain around his neck attached to a strange gray stone. He caressed it for a few seconds before looking at the large portrait in the room.

It was him, his mother, and his aunt all together. He once felt odd why his mother gave him a painting of them instead of a framed picture, but now he was used to it; he would look at her face before sleeping. The painting was vivid; sometimes, he felt his mother was looking at him.

'I still think this thing was oddly painted,' thought Christian. There was an apparent missing space in the painting, which somehow bothered him. After shaking his head, he went to sleep.

The next day, he woke up early to meditate; it was another thing his mother had forced him to do since he was eight. He attended school, attended activities afterward, and continued his tight schedule. Things proceeded smoothly until Saturday 22nd, at night, while he was in a deep sleep.

Sundays were a day of relaxation for him, so he enjoyed them. However, while sleeping, a white light suddenly descended from the sky and entered his body.

Chapter 2: Awakening (II)

"Where am I? No, who am I?" said a voice as it looked around; everything was white to the point of blindness.

"I remember…My name is Jim, and I died." Jim's memory rapidly returned to him. He was hosting a Harry Potter Christmas Party where he invited all his friends to watch all the movies, dress like wizards, and drink butterbeer. However, he ran out of ice, so he decided to drive to the store to buy some, and sadly, his car lost control due to the snow, and he crashed.

Jim grunted slightly as he looked at this all-white space. "Is this the afterlife? But why is there no one?"

It did not take him long to see a floating white ball in the distance. When he laid eyes on the ball, an instinct to consume it overwhelmed Jim. Without knowing it, he was already before the ball and took a bite, dimming the already small ball.

As he was about to take his second bite, a sense of clarity took over Jim's eyes. "What am I doing?" He immediately knew the answer, as if appeared in his mind. He had died but had a second chance at life, with a price—he needed to consume this person's soul and take their identity.

Jim paused, becoming dazed. He did not know how to process the information. He looked at this ball, which he concluded was a person's soul.

"No, I can't kill another person to survive."

As soon as his words finished, he felt a sense of weakness. He looked at his body and realized it was fading — time was running out. The resolute expression on his face disappeared as he focused on the soul.

"Isn't this what happened in those novels?" he muttered with gritted teeth. "I only need to compensate this person's parents and loved ones, leaving a life he would be proud of."

A few months before his death, he was into webtoons, which led him to web novels, a field made popular by China and Korea. One of the standard tropes is reincarnation, some of which involves swallowing the soul of others to get their bodies. With this flaw and twisted logic, Jim gritted his teeth before taking a second, third, and fourth bite. By the fifth one, his soul was glowing, while the ball only had a small portion left. So, he decided to end things as soon as possible.

Alas, something unexpected occurred. The gray stone on Christian's chest lit up to release a blue light into his head. Then, when Jim was about to take the final bite, a force pushed him back, and the tiny bite turned into a child.

"Where am I? Is this a dream?" asked Christian, who immediately felt extremely weak; he did not think he was ever this weak and feeble.

"I'm sorry, kid."

He heard such words uttered and looked in the direction. Someone lunged at him, and his instinct kicked in; he used what he had learned in Capoeira in the past few weeks, rolling on the ground to evade.

"Who are you, and why are you attacking me?"

"You don't need to know; you only need to know I must get rid of you."

Before the person finished, Christian had run away. He realized he was in danger in this situation and made the most logical choice to survive. Sadly, his legs were heavy, each step feeling like he was carrying Aunt Eleanor's car.

"HELP!" screamed Christian, who felt running away might not be the best choice. He did not know how this person silently transported him from his bedroom, but hopefully, there was someone who could hear and come to his rescue–albeit this seemed unlikely.

He did not stop running or screaming despite his weak legs and voice. However, he soon sensed a looming shadow behind him, forcing him to turn over. The other person attacked him with a direct punch.

Without hesitation, Christian evaded to the right. Then, he did a one-hand stand with a very smooth and flowing motion. With the momentum of his body, his legs kicked this stranger in the head. He had been practicing this move for a while at Capoeira and acted out of instinct.

'Useless?' he thought as he realized his weakness was the primary source of his trouble. He rolled on the ground to distance himself from his attacker. 'Damn it, if only I had a sword or a bow.'

As soon as this thought appeared in his mind, a foil appeared, and he looked at it in shock.

'In that case, can I have a gun?' he thought, but nothing happened. On the contrary, he felt even weaker. Christian then focused on his attacker, who appeared to be as shocked as him.

"Now, it's my turn."

"Do you think this will change anything?" sneered Jim, showing his disdain; a child with a weapon was still a child. So, he rushed forward to end this pointless battle once in a while. Christian remained calm as he gathered all the remaining strength he had left.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

He stabbed three times at extreme speed, each time targeting a dangerous area. He looked at three holes in the heart, throat, and head before stumbling backward, relying on the weapon not to fall down. Then, the attacker looked at him in horror before his body exploded into a brilliant light that entered his body.

He exhaled deeply, believing everything was over. However, the man reappeared before him, except he was no longer glowing. He immediately took his position, ready to strike again. To his delight, he did not feel that debilitating weakness.

"Wait, let's talk," hurriedly said Jim.

'American?' This was the first time Christian noticed the accent. "There is nothing to talk about."

"No, there is. This was a misunderstanding, and I apo–"

Christian did not listen. He rushed forward and stabbed the man more than ten times in a very short time. Like before, the man turned into a bright light that entered his body. He immediately felt a sense of lightness, power, satisfaction, and completion.

"What a wonderful feeling," he muttered as he looked at his glowing body. "What on Earth is going on?" He was curious but could not understand what was happening, so he thought it was a weird dream. Although he felt an unknown sense of dread that was too real when this person tried to kill him, he could conclude this was a weird dream.

"What is this?"

He saw something where that person used to be. There was a bunch of silvery vapor floating in the air. Christian immediately noticed some were much larger than others, and some seemed to shine brighter than others. Out of curiosity, he walked to the nearest brightest vapor and touched it.

His pupils instantly dilated as he saw something too vivid to be a dream. He was driving an unknown car and singing an unknown song when the car lost control, and he crashed. A wave of pain rushed into his body, and it was so real that he was about to pass out.

Luckily, he removed his hand as he fell on the floor.

"What's going on?" said Christian as he stood and looked around. He was in his bed and not that white space. "So, it was indeed a dream." He exhaled deeply, and a wave of immense fatigue washed over him. He yawned before lying down and closing his eyes.

Oddly, he immediately saw those gray floating vapors but was too tired and soon fell asleep. Not long afterward, sounds of cracking appeared in his room as a figure appeared.

Chapter 3. Awakening (III)

Amazon Forest, Unknown Location:

A woman dressed in long pants and boots, a short tank top, a pixie cut, a small bag hanging on her side, and holding a wand. She looked thin but fit, with only a necklace and an old, worn-out bracelet for jewelry.

She slowly walked through what looked like a ruin. Each of her steps was meticulous, looking at every detail around. She suddenly sensed something and waved her wand, manifesting an invisible shield that blocked more than ten arrows.

During the event, she was calm and composed, as if she had encountered such a situation too often to care. A green gas spewed toward her as she walked to the next room. Without hesitance, her wand fired an intense flame that burned the gas.

The woman instinctively smelled the air before frowning. She muttered something under her breath before the tip of her wand lit up green. Without hesitation, she took a purple leaf from her bag and placed it under her tongue.

A few minutes later, she exhaled deeply before continuing in a dark corner of the ruin. She found herself in a room full of engraving.

"Is this it?" she muttered before taking out a large parchment from her very small bag. She compared the writing on the wall with the translations in her hand before following directions. She pointed her wand in a different direction on the wall.

Click!

She was immediately on guard, as she knew the danger had no past, and her actions soon proved to be correct. A colossal green flame creature emerged from the opened mechanism.

'A curse flame?' she immediately judged as this creature resembled how the Fiendfyre Cure manifested. Without hesitation, she took four stones from her bag. As the creature attacked her, she rolled on the ground to evade, leaving one of the stones.

She fired more spells to delay the creature while placing the stones in four directions with the creature at the center. Finally, once she finished, she muttered a strange incantation under her breath.

The four stones released a white light that connected above close to the ceiling, forming a cage. Under the control of her wand, the cage slowly closed, and the cursed flame rapidly decreased in size before dissipating.

She exhaled deeply before looking at the opened door; a smile finally crept into her earnest face before disappearing.

'I should not put my hopes up so as not to be disappointed.' She had followed this lead for months and hoped her effort was not pointless like the others.

The woman did not immediately rush into the door. She took a five-minute break to drink water and a potion that recovered stamina. Finally, she marched into the door. However, before taking a few steps, her necklace began to glow. Her expression changed:

"Something happened to Zed?"

She did not hesitate before summoning her broom from her small bag, hopping on it, and flying out of this ruin. She soon found herself outside and lit up a campfire before taking out Floo Powder and using it. With a flash of flame, she disappeared from this place.

Little did she know, as soon as she left, two pairs of eyes opened up deep in the ruins, looking at where she disappeared before closing them. Afterward, this ruin disappeared from the world as if it never existed in the first place.

The woman appeared in the fireplace of a large mansion in Berkshire. She immediately Apparated in the master bedroom upstairs and looked at the sleeping Christian. She looked at him and discovered he was sleeping peacefully.

'The protective enchantment I placed on him would not activate unless he was in danger. So, what happened?'

She observed him closely but did not find anything. So, she took out her wand, and a white light emanating from it entered Christian's body.

Boom! A shockwave shot out from Christian's body, sending the woman flying and hitting the wall; it also destroyed many things in the room.

"Magical power?" she groaned excitedly as she slowly stood up from the floor. "Finally." A genuine smile was plastered on her face before she calmed down. She looked at the room and pointed at her wand: "Reparo."

The room swiftly returned to its original state. She approached Christian and saw he was still in a deep sleep, so she tucked him in before walking out. As she descended the stairs, she saw Eleanor, with a bat, slowly walking up.

"Tiara?"

"It's me."

"You scared me," said Eleanor. "I thought someone had broken in."

"I came to check on Zed."

"Check on him? Why all of a sudden?"

"My protective charm alerted me."

"Is he alright?"

"He's fine. It was probably because he awakened his magical powers."

"He did? I guess that's good news," nodded Eleanor. Then, she looked sternly at Tiara and asked, "Is this a short visit?"

"Why are you asking this?"

"If it is, don't let Christian see you. I don't want his mood to be affected so early in the school years."

"You're being unfair."

"Am I? You disappeared for months on end, appearing occasionally on holidays. You're not here to see how heartbroken he is whenever he watches you leave," Eleanor replied with a sneer. "And I still have not forgiven you for missing his birthday this year."

"I made it up for him this past summer."

"Do you think it's the same? A child needs stability."

Tiara was quiet for a few seconds, "You know why I have to leave."

"I know you miss my brother, and I do, too," Eleanor sighed deeply. "But you have to accept the fact he's gone."

"No, he's not," she denied fervently. She rummaged through her small bag before taking out a flask with a small white flame. "Years ago, after our wedding vow, I cast an ancient magic that connected our lives. It lets me know his status and share vitality with him when he's in danger."

"Are you telling the truth?"

"Why should I lie to you?" Tiara replied. I've known he's alive somewhere out there, so I never stopped searching for him."

Eleanor looked at the flame. She missed her brother. Although she was a Squib and thus became distant from her family, her brother never treated her differently. As such, his disappearance also hurt her.

"Why have you never told me this?"

"I did not want to bring you any false hope."

"Did you find something?"

"You could say that," said Tiara, making Eleanor exhale deeply to calm down. "This has not changed much; it's not an excuse to continue hurting Christian."

"I know, and I promise I will do better."

"You've said these words before."

"It's true this time," added Tiara. "I will stay for at least a year."

Eleanor looked at her, "I hope you won't disappoint me again."

"I won't."

"Your room should still be clean, and you know the way."

"Hold on."

"What is it?"

"I need some quick cash to find someone."

"Take it out of your own account."

"It's urgent, and I need it to find someone in the next 12 hours."

"Hold on." Eleanor went back to her boudoir before returning. "I only have 850 pounds. Is that enough?"

"It should."

"Where exactly are you going?"

"Home."

'For what?"

"Looking for a Seer."

Eleanor asked no more questions and went to bed. Tiara took the money and put on a black cloak before using the fireplace to teleport to her childhood house in Haiti. She spent the majority of the night searching for an old man. After hours of searching, she finally found him walking out of a gambling house while supporting himself on a cane.

"Papa Tounde," she yelled. The drunken old man paused as only a few people knew of this name. He concentrated his eyes to see correctly.

"Tia? Ou pa mouri? (You're not dead?)" His face showed a genuine shock that would baffle anyone.

"How rude."

"What date is today?"

"It's Sunday, the 23rd," she replied with a frown.

"You were supposed to be dead yesterday," Papa Tounde said directly. Then, he seemed to have thought of something: "Did your son awaken his magical powers?"

"That's why I'm here."

His eyes immediately lit up as the drunkenness faded away.

Chapter 4: Prophecy or Nonsense?

"You're not lying, are you?"

"Why would I lie about that?"

Papa Tounde seemed to not entirely trust her words. So, he bent down on the floor and took a handful of rocks. He casually threw them before observing closely.

"You're really not lying. One of the Chosen Ones survived their catastrophe and awaken their magical powers! Hahahaha." He laughed maniacally without a care in the world.

He did not expect someone to awaken in this generation, let alone her son. However, now it made sense since that thing could only belong to the chosen ones, and it appeared in close proximity to its owner.

"Why do you seem happier than me?" asked Tiara, and Papa Tounde did not know how to explain. Fate was kind to many people, or the so-called Chosen Ones. However, most would die early or never awaken their magical powers, thus taking their talents to the No Maj World.

Papa Tounde did not immediately answer. Instead, she looked at the stars in the sky, and his eyes became all white with no pupil, and he muttered to himself: " This time will be different; I can feel it."

A wide grin appeared on his face, showing his black teeth, "Do you know what your son awakens means?"

"No."

Papa Tounde laughed again before answering. "The revival of magic, the return of the divine, the re-emergence of lost mysteries, ancient realms, and past legends."

His eyes twinkled with a flash of brilliance, unlike anything in his life.

"A new era is coming — an era of strife, chaos, and prosperity—the Golden Age of Magic and the Supernatural."

Papa Tounde grinned, "I thought the decline of magic was inevitable, and I would die without seeing any changes. Who knew."

Tiara frowned, "What do these things have to do with my son?"

"Everything will begin with him."

"He's only a kid."

"Fate does not care about such a trivial thing."

"Not if I have something to say about this."

Papa Tounde looked at her and did not argue with her. Some things were inevitable and not something a little witch could stop, even if she was amongst the most capable witches in the British Magical World. The fact that the artifact was in her hands is further proof that destiny was at work.

"Did you not come here for your husband?"

"Yes, you told me to come see you if my son awakened, and you will tell me how to find him."

"The answer you seek is simple: give your son his inheritance, and he will lead you to your husband."

"You!"

"I have told you the truth. Now, whether you listen or not is up to you."

Papa Tounde disappeared, but his voice echoed again, "My last advice to you: do not tell anyone about your son's destiny. Many people do not wish for his existence to live."

Tiara was in a daze for a while before regaining her bearing. She decided to return to England and calm down before deciding what to do next.

…

Christian opened his eyes, yawning and stretching, "What a strange dream." He got off the bed to brush his teeth and shower before stopping. Usually, the first thing he does after waking up is to meditate, but he somehow forgets and has almost broken his routine in the past two years.

After shaking his head, Christian returned to the bed, lay flat, and closed his eyes. He did not like cross-legged meditation, so he usually chose this pose. He soon furrowed his brow.

Christian has a system for meditation. He must do it for one hour, divided into three sections of twenty minutes. The first section focused on [Focus Attention Mediation], which helps him focus his mind and concentrate. The process involved concentrating on something, and he always chose the Ancient Greek Alphabet.

The second section is [Mindfulness Meditation], which focuses on observing one's own thoughts, emotions, and feelings with a sense of detachment or without judgment. The objective is to analyze oneself and remain true to oneself.

The last section is [Loving-Kindness Meditation], which involves cultivating positive feelings like love, compassion, and respect toward oneself and others. During this section, he repeats phrases, intentions, objectives, and accomplishments to generate positive emotions.

When he was eight, he visited India for summer vacation, but soon afterward, his mother taught him to meditate and claimed she learned it from a monk on that trip. At first, Christian did not like meditation and could not even last ten minutes. However, it has become a natural part of his life after months of effort and without stopping.

As such, he immediately realized something was wrong when he could not visualize the alphabet and saw all those floating gray vapors from his dream.

"So, it wasn't a dream?" he muttered. He was baffled. Only a dream could explain such a weird phenomenon. He observed these vapors and got curious. However, thinking about the reaction after touching a big one, he focused on a small piece.

As soon as he willed it, one of the small vapors glowed, and he saw an entirely different scene. He seemed to be eating at a restaurant. He could feel every sensation, including the taste of the food, which was less than desirable.

Christian focused his mind and noticed an anomaly—his skin was white. The shock awakened him from this place, and a thought appeared in his mind:

'Are these vapors the memory of the person who attacked me?'

Based on the information he had, this was the logical conclusion. But there was no logic to this conclusion. How could he acquire the memory of an unknown white man? Why did that person wish to kill him in the first place? And what was that large white space?

Christian began to panic, thinking he might have gone insane. He thought he was developing some sort of schizophrenia and his alternative personality as a white American man.

'What should I do?' He did not feel he could tell his aunt or mother in case they asked him to see a psychiatrist; he did not want to be locked up in a hospital.

'I need to calm down. Let's ignore the vapors first. Maybe I will be fine if I don't access these memories.'

Christian did a breathing exercise to calm down before returning to his meditation. Unfortunately, he couldn't concentrate, and when left to his own thoughts, he always concluded he was going crazy.

Finally, he decided to shower and go for breakfast.

"You're early," said Eleanor when he saw him. She sat on the chair, straightening her hair with an iron, a mirror, and a cup of strange-smelling tea.

"I couldn't sleep well last night."

"A nightmare?"

"Something like that."

"Well, you're awake now. The butler has already prepared breakfast."

Christian nodded before heading to the dining room to eat. However, he was utterly distracted during the process and missed his aunt's departure. If not for Geoffrey Butler, who nudged him, he might have spent hours at the table.

After breakfast, Christian headed upstairs to his study room/library to write correspondence with Professor Henry and Professor Edward. Although there were no longer his teachers, they usually wrote to each other in Latin and Ancient Greek as a form of practice.

Once he finished, he planned to use his computer to play chess before reading a book. Luckily for him, he saw a visitor.

"Mum?"

"What? Surprise to see me!" said Tiara with a smile.

"It's really you." He rushed out of his chair and into her embrace. "Why are you back so early? Is something wrong?"

"I came because of something important: there is something I have to tell you."

"Oh, what is it?"

"There is no need to be in a hurry. We can attend to it tomorrow," she reassured.

"Oh, okay."

"How about we do something together?"

"Are you tired? You look tired," said Christian.

"I'm indeed not in the best shape. How about this? I will take a nap. When I wake up, we can cook together like we used to."

"Really? That will be great."

Christian and Tiara chatted briefly before she went to take a nap. Later that day, they shopped for ingredients, cooked, and spent the day together. Later, Tiara tucked him into bed, and Christian was so excited about today's activities that he slept soundly, not thinking that he had developed schizophrenia.

Chapter 5: Wizard

"Morning," said Christian as he walked down the stairs.

"Did you finish your meditation?"

"Huh, yes."

Tiara could immediately tell he was lying. However, she did not immediately point it out; she will address it later.

"You don't have to attend school today."

"Such a wonderful Sunday, and I get to miss school the next day? I feel like it's my birthday." He sat at the table and began to eat. He also wondered what was so crucial that his usually strict mother even allowed him to skip school.

Christian was in a good mood throughout breakfast, then he heard his mother say: "We will go out, so go dress."

"Dress? Where are we going, and what's the attire."

"You will know soon, and you can dress casually."

Christian went upstairs to put on jeans, a shirt, and his new Air Jordan 4; they were one of his birthday presents six months ago and were imported from the US, making them quite expensive. He brushes his hair before rushing to see his mother in the main study.

He was not allowed to enter without authorization, so Christian always liked to look around after entering; he always had this feeling something was suspicious about this room. However, he thought he felt this way because of the fact he was now allowed to enter.

The room was always the same: a desk with many books and bookshelves and a fireplace.

"Sit down."

Christian saw opposite the main desk and waited for his mother's news. Part of him was scared she would say something like she was leaving for a long, extended period.

"I know what I'm about to say is strange, but it's true. You're a wizard, Zed."

"Pardon me?"

"As I said, magic is real, and you're one of the people with the gift to wield it."

Christian was momentarily quiet, "Is this some kind of joke?" He looked around to see if there were people hiding or maybe cameras or something. Tiara did not say another word but took out her wand. She gently tapped it on the lamp and said: "Transfiguro."

Christian watched, to his horror, as the lamp turned into a cat. He stared at it for a moment before pinching his tight very hard; the intense pain told him he was not dreaming.

"Blimey Hell."

Usually, he would get scolded for using such language, but he was allowed a pass in this situation. "Do it again." Tiara then transfigured the cat into a butterfly that flew in the sky before she restrained it and returned it to a normal lamp. Christian watched the entire process in awe and curiosity but was still silent.

"What do you think?" asked Tiara after a few minutes.

"So many things now make sense."

"What do you mean?"

"There were signs," he continued. "The strange drink that could instantly revitalize my stamina after Fencing Practice. I remember seeing you remove my presence from a bag that was way too small. Finally, I was always confused about how we could travel so fast to our destination. One moment, I was sleeping, and the next, we had already arrived at our destination—no plane is that fast."

"Yes, I used Port Keys for our travel. Muggle airplanes are too slow for my taste, and I always worry for their safety. So, when you fall asleep, I use them to get us to our destination instantly."

"Portkeys? Is that the wizard's way of achieving teleportation? You also said the word " Muggle. " What does that mean?

"Muggle is a term used by wizards and witches to describe people without magical abilities. As for Portkey, you'll know in the future."

"So, there are many others?."

"Yes, but our populations pale in comparison to Muggles."

"I see," muttered Christian as he became quiet."

"Do you have any more questions?"

"Many just don't know where to begin."

"Organize your thought and ask. I will answer what I can and to the best of my ability."

"Firstly, are all our family wizards, including Dad and Aunt Eleanor?"

"Sadly, no," replied Eleanor. "Your aunt is what the wizarding world called a Squid, born from magical parents but without any magical abilities."

"That seems unfair," uttered Christian.

"It is, but that's how things are."

"Shouldn't magic be hereditary?" he asked, feeling that his aunt should also be a witch.

"It's complicated. We can get buy books on this subject for you to learn."

Christian nodded; he had many questions but did not know where to begin. So, he asked something he truly wanted to know:

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"I thought you would be a Squib, but last night, you awakened your magical powers," explained Tiara, who suddenly remembered something: "Did something happen on Sunday night?."

Christian immediately became on guard, and his facial expression and body language showed it. So, his mother reassured him: "Don't worry. You know you can tell me anything."

"Well, I had a strange dream," said Christian, telling her of his confrontation with the weird man. However, for some reason, he withheld information about the floating vapors.

"What a strange experience of awakening," she muttered. She thought of what Papa Tounde said and concluded this might be the catastrophe the latter was discussing. 'I need to find that damn drunkard; I have so much more I need to know.'

"You don't have to worry about your strange dream. The good thing is that you're fine."

Christian nodded. The existence of magic relieved him as it indicated he was not going crazy but experiencing a strange magical event. Although he was still worried, he now had a direction to discover what was happening to him.

"Any more questions? We have to get going, so it should be the last one—make it a good one."

"In that case, I want to know what magic is exactly; how would you define it?"

"Ooh, great question," uttered Tiara. " That's not an easy question to answer, even by someone like Albus Dumbledore."

"Who's Albus Dumbledore?" asked Christian, who strangely felt this name was familiar.

"The man considered as the greatest wizard of this generation."

"So powerful?"

"Indeed."

"Such a wizard should have a deep insight into magic," praised Christian.

"Want to meet him?"

"Of course. Do you have a way?"

"Hehe. Dumbledore is not some noble and reclusive wizard that people dream of meeting. He's the headmaster of Hogwarts, which you will be attending next year as a First Year. You can ask as many questions as you like. Although I cannot guarantee he will answer your question, I know for sure he's very approachable."

"A school of magic? That sounds wonderful."

"Indeed," said Tiara with a reminiscent look. "Hogwarts—that's where I met your father."

Christian was surprised as his mother rarely mentioned his father. "What happened?"

Tiara thought momentarily, "I was homeschooled back in Haiti with my sister, like most magically gifted children, raised by my grandma while my mother worked. However, when I was fifteen, our family encountered trouble with a dark wizard. In order to save us, they scattered us in different countries. My sister went to the US, and I came here, transferring to Hogwarts for the fifth year.

"I needed some extra help to help me accomodate and keep up with my classes, and your father was the one chosen. Despite being in Ravenclaw and me being a Gryffindor, we got along very well. Over the course of the next two years, we fell in love and married soon after school."

"And then?"

"That's enough for today."

Christian was disappointed; he always wanted to know why his father left them—why he abandoned them. Despite what he did, his mother seemed very fond of the man, so he wanted to know what kind of person he was.

"Our destination is Diagon Alley to get you a wand and some material. I will begin your magical training as soon as possible."