HP: Harry The Gamer

Harry paused. She never called anyone by anything other than their surname. And then he looked up at the floating box above her head.

Emmeline Vance Order of the Phoenix

LV-20

Harry stared at it in shock. Ms. Roemmele wasn't who she said she was. Instead of just a cranky old teacher, she was an incredibly high-leveled person.

And judging from what he had seen of the Game so far, a high level almost universally meant danger. Which meant that the two men standing behind her were just as dangerous if, not more.

Boris Maghian Order of the Phoenix

LV-22

and

Sullivan Jones Order of the Phoenix

LV-42

and above the injured kid lying on the floor,

Gordon Jack Game Lover

LV-4

Harry could've soiled his pants had he known what level-42 meant in terms of the Game, but since he had nothing to compare it with other than his own age's levels, he could do nothing but feel a healthy dose of fear and respect settle into his mind.

Warily, he approached the trio, who were holding up and pointing strange polished sticks at him.

Upon seeing his face, they all lowered their sticks. Harry frowned in confusion. Had he stumbled into some sort of mid-day cult ritual?

"Mr. Potter! are you alright there?" Ms. Roemmele asked, seeming uncharacteristically relieved to see him.

Unable to form words in his confused state, he simply nodded.

One of the men; the younger one; walked over to him and waved his stick over Harry's head, muttering inaudibly, before he turned to Ms. Roemmele and nodded.

"Good," the older man said gruffly,"We were about to head out and look for you. Figured the attacker would try and come for you next after he missed you this time."

Harry's eyes widened. "Me!" he half-screamed half-squeaked, "This was supposed to happen to me?!"

"Sully! You are out of line!" Ms. Roemmele angrily snapped at the older man, but Harry was having none of it.

He had stayed quiet long enough, and today's bizarre events were starting to wear thin on his patience.

"Now hold on a second. What is going on here? What happened to Gordon? Who are these people? And who is after me?"

"Calm down Harry," the younger man said, "Sully was just kidding. No one is after you. Your friend will be just fine in just a moment. You don't have to worry at all."

"Fine?!" Harry said incredulously, looking at the deep cuts littered across Gordon's still, unmoving body. "From what angle does that look fine to you sickos!"

Ms. Roemmele had had enough. "Mr. Potter! That will be enough out of you. If you want to see your friend live, you will be quiet and let us heal him.

If not, then you are free to do whatever you want, but I swear in the name of all that is holy that if you act out while I am trying to save this boy's life, I will have your hide."

That did the trick.

Harry stopped, and hesitantly nodded. With a curt tip of her head, Ms. Roemmele turned around and dropped to her knees, pulling out that strange stick from her pocket and waving it over Gordon's body.

Harry watched with wide eyes as the muscle and sinew restitched itself and the skin slowly closed over all the cuts on his body, utterly fascinated and terrified at the exact same time.

Behind them, the two men were having a conversation of their own.

"How in the world did he see us? Didn't your Confundus work right?"

"It worked perfectly. He shouldn't be able to see us right now. I don't know what is happening."

"Must be something related to the protections. Or maybe accidental magic?"

Their murmurings continued, but Harry tuned them out. None of what they were talking about made sense to him anyway.

A few minutes later, with one final wave and flick of the stick, the tears in Gordon's clothes restitched themselves.

Ms. Roemmele turned towards Harry and smiled at his gobsmacked look, before turning to Boris, the younger man, and saying, "Get the boys to their class. You know what to do."

Boris nodded, but Harry was having none of it.

"Hold on a minute. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what happened here and how you are able to do all those things and heal Gordon like that."

Boris sighed, before kneeling down to look Harry in the eyes.

"Harry. I know you are confused and I know you are scared, but I need you to come with me.

All you need to know right now is that a bad man attacked your friend, and we will catch him in no time. Your friend will be just fine.

He was treated by one of the Auror's best. Soon it will be like none of this ever happened. I promise."

Harry was about ask something, but he hesitated. He was well aware that they were humoring him, and that if they wanted, they could knock him out and make him do what they wanted easily.

Knowing the futility of his situation, he nodded. Boris smiled, before getting up to his feet and picking Gordon up onto his shoulder.

"Best not to Levitate him while I'm maintaining the Confundus eh?" he said, and Harry nodded, despite having no idea what he was talking about.

As they walked towards the school building, snippets of conversation floated towards them from behind.

"It will be like nothing happened," the older man scoffed, "Except that it won't. Potter will forget, sure, but this wasn't a message to him.

It's a message to us. Someone managed to nearly kill him. Despite all of us and Dumbledore's protections, someone managed to get close enough for this to happen.

Do you need more reason to realize that we should take the child back to our World? Screw the old man and his plans."

"It's not our choice to make," Harry heard Ms. Roemmele say just as they walked out of earshot.

Boris helped Harry up the stairs, down the long corridor, and into his classroom.