Harry Potter: Toji Potter

The brisk morning air filled Toji's lungs as he walked alongside Professor McGonagall. They were heading toward the meeting spot for the English National Quidditch Team, where Toji—Harry Potter to the rest of the world—would be trying out. McGonagall had insisted on accompanying him, and though she didn't say it outright, he could tell she wanted to talk.

As they walked, McGonagall glanced at him from time to time, her expression soft, though her usual sternness remained. "I never imagined I'd see you on the National Team, Potter," she said, a faint hint of pride in her voice.

Toji shrugged, his sharp green eyes scanning the horizon. "It's just another game, Professor. A bigger stage, maybe, but the game's the same."

McGonagall smiled at that. "You're far too modest. Quidditch at this level is no small feat. But Harry..." Her tone shifted, becoming more serious. "There's something I've wanted to talk to you about for a while."

Toji raised an eyebrow, curious. McGonagall rarely got personal, and he could sense that this wasn't going to be a simple conversation.

"Why Dumbledore never let anyone visit you at the Dursleys, why you weren't raised in a magical society or even an orphanage…" she trailed off, her voice tinged with a mixture of regret and sadness.

Toji remained silent, letting her continue.

"Many have wondered why Dumbledore left you with your relatives, why he forbade anyone from helping you. The truth is… he feared what you could become." McGonagall's voice lowered, as if sharing a long-held secret. "Dumbledore once told me that you had more potential than even Voldemort. He knew that you could grow to be more powerful, not just because of the prophecy but because of who you are. And that scared him."

Toji's expression didn't change, though internally, he felt a faint flicker of amusement. So that's what it was, he thought. Dumbledore's fear wasn't rooted in Voldemort but in him—Harry Potter.

"He didn't want you to grow up like Voldemort," McGonagall continued, her voice soft now. "He saw what the orphanage did to Tom Riddle, how isolation and power warped him. But he also didn't want you to grow up in a magical society, where your power would only increase. He needed you to be… ordinary, distrustful, lacking confidence."

Toji let out a small, derisive chuckle. "He failed."

McGonagall gave a rueful smile. "Yes. He underestimated you. I—" She hesitated, as though searching for the right words. "I failed too, Harry. I should have been there for you. I see that now. But I'm here now, and I won't fail you again."

Toji glanced at her, and for a brief moment, he saw genuine warmth in her eyes. It wasn't pity or guilt. It was something more. She wanted to make up for the lost time, to be the mentor she had always wanted to be for him.

"Thanks, Professor," he said, his voice unusually soft. And, in that brief moment, he meant it.

They arrived at the Quidditch stadium, where the English National Team was waiting. The team members, coach, and a panel of judges stood ready to evaluate Toji's skills. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the excitement of a major tryout.

As Toji warmed up, stretching his limbs and practicing a few flying maneuvers, he felt the weight of several eyes on him. Reporters, ministry officials, and a few Quidditch enthusiasts watched from the stands, including one woman who caught his eye.

Jennifer Keddle. The name echoed in his mind. She was a direct descendant of Gertie Keddle, one of the witches who had written the first rules of Quidditch centuries ago. Jennifer was well-known in the Quidditch world, both for her knowledge of the sport and for her high-ranking position in the Ministry's Department of Magical Games and Sports.

As the tryouts began, Toji performed with his usual precision and confidence. His skills as Seeker were unmatched, as he zoomed through the air, catching the Snitch effortlessly during the practice match. His game awareness, reflexes, and flying techniques were all on full display, drawing gasps of admiration from the crowd.

Throughout the match, Jennifer's eyes never left him. Her admiration for Harry Potter had started long ago, but today, it blossomed into something more. As she watched him fly, her heart raced, and her thoughts drifted into dangerous territory. The baby who had vanquished Voldemort had grown into a striking young man. His skill, his confidence—it was intoxicating.

As the session ended, McGonagall excused herself, leaving Toji to finish up with the team. It wasn't long before Jennifer seized the opportunity.

She approached him, her steps measured, her heart pounding. "Harry Potter," she said, her voice smooth but laced with nerves. "That was… incredible."

Toji turned to her, his intense gaze locking onto hers. He knew that look—the look of admiration, of something more. A smirk played on his lips. "Thanks. I do my best."

Jennifer blushed, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. "You make it look effortless."

Toji chuckled, stepping closer. "Well, when you've been flying since you were a kid, it kinda becomes second nature."

There was a pause, a charged silence between them. Jennifer bit her lip, trying to maintain her composure, but Toji could see right through her. He was a predator by nature, and he knew when someone was on the verge of falling for him.

"You're pretty knowledgeable about Quidditch, aren't you?" he asked, his tone a bit more playful, teasing.

Jennifer nodded, trying to focus on something other than his sharp features and mesmerizing eyes. "I've loved the sport my whole life. It's in my blood."

"I like that," Toji said, stepping even closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "A woman who knows what she wants."

Jennifer's heart skipped a beat. The way he looked at her, the way he spoke—it was enough to make her head spin. "I—well—thank you," she stammered, feeling herself melt under his gaze.

Toji leaned in slightly, just enough to make her feel the pull between them. "We should talk more," he said smoothly, his voice dripping with charm. "Maybe over dinner?"

Jennifer's heart leapt. "Yes, I'd love that," she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Before she knew it, she was scribbling her address on a piece of parchment and handing it to him. Toji took it with a sly grin, his fingers brushing hers in a way that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I'll be in touch," he said, his voice a promise.

Jennifer walked away, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She was a high-ranking official in the Ministry, a serious, professional woman. Yet here she was, reduced to a lovesick girl by the mere presence of Harry Potter.

Toji watched her go, satisfied. Another useful connection, he thought. She was more than just another admirer—she was influential in the Ministry, and having her wrapped around his finger would prove advantageous.

That evening, back in the Slytherin common room, Toji lay in his bed, staring up at the canopy. The day had been productive, to say the least. He'd aced his tryouts, gained the favor of the Ministry's Quidditch department, and seduced Jennifer Keddle—an influential woman and a "mature Milf," as he smirked to himself.

He reflected on the events of the day, his mind replaying his interactions with Jennifer. It had been almost too easy. With her in his pocket, he could exert influence over the Ministry, shaping things in his favor.

Toji's grin widened. The world was his playground, and he was just getting started.

With a satisfied sigh, he closed his eyes, already planning his next move.