---
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..."
---
The words looped in Harry's head—sharp, final, impossible to argue with.
He sat very still, breath arrested, everything inside him reeling. The room felt too small for the size of the thought that had just landed there.
That was it. That was why Voldemort had hunted him down. That was why his parents were dead.
Because of some vague, self-fulfilling riddle about a child born at the end of July. Because Voldemort thought it meant him, because Harry too was a half-blood. He completely ignored Neville, who was also the person that could be mentioned in the prophecy, but he was a pureblood.
Because Snape had listened, ran, and told. And in doing so, Snape had sentenced them to death.
No, not them. Only Harry and James Potter. Snape begged Voldemort on his knees to spare Lily.
Now he knew why Voldemort gave his mother the chance to step aside.
Harry's hands trembled as he clenched them into fists. He felt sick. Not the kind of sick you get from bad food or a cold—but the kind that settles deep in your gut when you realize a teacher you'd been forced to trust had a hand in destroying your entire life.
All those detentions, the sneers, the humiliation in class, the points taken, and the unjust punishments.
And all this time, that bastard had been the reason Harry had no parents to begin with.
He'd heard only half of a prophecy—and instead of keeping it to himself, he had scurried to his master like a good little servant.
"Fucking coward," Harry muttered, voice low and trembling. "You gave him the key to my family's grave."
His jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. For the first time, the hatred he'd always reserved for Voldemort began to extend... widen.
Snape wasn't just a bully in class. Wasn't just a petty, miserable man holding grudges against children.
He was the reason Harry had grown up in a cupboard. The reason he'd cried alone on birthdays. The reason why he never had a family.
For this he is going to kill Snape...
Just as Harry was about to go on a full-blown mental murder spree—visions of strangling Snape with his bare hands, of screaming until his throat bled—
A cold, mechanical chime echoed through his mind.
---
[DING! THE MARVELOUS MULTIVERSE SYSTEM LOADING: 0% → 1% → 6% → 8% → 10% → 14% → 19% → 27% → 30% → 49% → 66% → 84% → 99% → 100%]
---
Harry froze.
"...What?"
The fury, the grief, the chaos—paused, smothered by confusion.
The text vanished, replaced by a low chime that vibrated through his very bones.
[THE MARVELOUS MULTIVERSE SYSTEM IS ONLINE.]
And then—silence.
Harry frowned.
"Oh great. First homicidal ghosts, now I've got a talking what-the-fuck-ever-this-is in my head."
Wait, he knows about the term systems, from Jack Smith's memories. Who knew that a gangster was secretly a weeb?
After reading Jack Smith's memories about the system, Harry had a strange expression.
Had he really just received a system, like in Jack Smith's memories? Where someone dies, reincarnates in a fantasy world, and starts their legendary journey of power, wealth, and beauties?
But that was fucking animation, web novels or fanfictions. But this is fucking reality, with wand-waving wizards and witches.
Harry shook his head and overcame his disbelief, but suddenly another notification arrived.
[DING! TRANSFERRING SYSTEM DETAILS TO THE HOST]
[DING! NOVICE GIFT PACK DISTRIBUTED.]
[NOTE: HOST CAN FIND THE NOVICE GIFT PACK IN THE SYSTEM INVENTORY.]
Along came the information which was directly inserted into his head, causing him to groan.
Harry rubbed his forehead. If his head were able to speak, it would have been cursing for all the memories and information stuffed into it within a few hours and would also have been filing lawsuits for overworking.
Harry took a deep breath and muttered, "Menu."
And a floating thingy appeared in front of him, which according to the information is the system interface.
<------------------------>
1.) STATUS
2.) WORLD TRAVEL
3.) QUESTS
4.) INVENTORY
<------------------------>
Looking at the screen, Harry muttered, "Definitely very similar to those video games of that fat whale of a cousin."
He decided to go serial-wise.
He tapped on Status.
<------------------------>
STATUS
[NAME:- HARRY JAMES POTTER]
[AGE:- 14]
[RACE:- HUMAN/WIZARD]
[TITLE:- CHILD OF PROPHECY, THE BOY-WHO-LIVED]
[MENTAL POWER:- 196 → 420 (+224) ]
[MAGIC:- 326(↑)]
[STRENGTH:- 24]
[DEFENCE:- 21]
[AGILITY:- 25]
[SPECIAL ABILITY — X-GENE (UNAWAKENED)]
[ARTIFACT:- MAGIC WAND (HOLLY AND PHOENIX FEATHER), INVISIBILITY CLOAK (DEATHLY HALLOW)]
<------------------------>
(PEAK ATTRIBUTES OF A MAGICAL HUMAN ARE 30; STAT POINTS OF AN AVERAGE MAGICAL HUMAN ARE AROUND 20.)
NOTE:- THESE ARE THE STATS OF THOSE, WHO DID NOT USE RITUALS TO ENHANCE THEIR BODY.
(PEAK ATTRIBUTES OF A MUGGLE HUMAN ARE 20; STAT POINTS OF AN AVERAGE ADULT MUGGLE HUMAN ARE AROUND 12-14.)
[MAGIC INDEX:–
→ MUGGLES: 0-10
→ SQUIBS: 10-15
→ AGE < 10: 15-30
→ AGE 11: 30-45
→ AGE 12: 45-70
→ AGE 13: 70-105
→ AGE 14: 105-150
→ AGE 15: 150-205
→ AGE 16: 205-270
→ AGE 17: 270-345
→ AVG. ADULT: 345-430
→ MAGIC EXPERTS: 430-545
→ MAGIC TITANS: 545-720
→ DEMI-GOD MAGE: 720-1020
→ LOW RANK GOD: 1020-2040
→ MID-RANK GOD: 2040-5120
→ HIGH-RANK GOD: 5120-12,280
→ PEAK-RANK GOD: 12,280-29,680
→ HEAVENLY GOD RANK: 29,680-71,640
→ SINGLE UNIVERSE RANK: 71,640-???
---
Harry carefully looked and assessed his status. He completely ignored the unnecessary data—like his name, race, age, and the titles he despised—and focused directly on Mental Power.
According to Jack Smith's memories, Mental Power was the strength and stability of one's mind. It governed more than just willpower or intelligence; it affected things like magical control, soul resistance, memory retention, and even perception under pressure.
In systems like these, high mental strength meant better resistance to illusions, less chance of mental manipulation, and a stronger connection to one's magical core. It could also improve learning speed, reflexive spellcasting, and even allow resistance to powerful soul or psychic attacks.
→ MENTAL POWER: 196 → 420 (+224)
Harry's mental power had jumped from 196 to 420—a massive leap, nearly doubling his previous level.
The increase must've come from absorbing Jack Smith's soul, and maybe even the Horcrux.
He winced. "That explains the damn headaches, whenever Voldemort is near me. Also he needs to deal with the Horcruxes to completly kill that bastard—wait... let's throw it to future Harry to worry."
And with that, Harry looked at his magic reserves stats. No need to explain this one, he guessed.
→ MAGIC: 326(↑)
That upward arrow pulsed faintly. He guessed it meant the number had room to grow, maybe was still rising. Probably because of the soul strengthening?
After all, according to the theories that he crammed under Hermione's glare, although many things affect one's magic reserves, the core is one's own soul. The more powerful the soul, the more powerful and high ones magic quality and magic reserves. These three are interconnected.
So with the upward sign, it means he will experience a leap in his already-powerful-for-his-age magic reserves. After all, according to this list of power realms—which Harry is deliberately trying to ignore to avoid putting more stress on his brain—just seeing the number and various power ranks is another can full of trolls... or maybe basilisks?
Shaking his head, Harry moved to the next column—
→ STRENGTH: 24
→ DEFENCE: 21
→ AGILITY: 25
Not bad, actually. Above average for a wizard, if he was reading the system notes correctly. He needs to seriously thank Wood's inhumane early morning Quidditch training. Or maybe not.
But the part that really made him pause was:
[SPECIAL ABILITY — X-GENE (UNAWAKENED)]
"X-Gene?" Harry blinked. "The hell is that?"
Harry looked at the system and even asked questions, but it didn't reply, so one more item thrown to future Harry.
(FUTURE HARRY: FUCK YOU! PAST HARRY!!)
His eyes slid downward to the next section:
→ ARTIFACTS:
1.) MAGIC WAND (HOLLY AND PHOENIX FEATHER)
2.) INVISIBILITY CLOAK (DEATHLY HALLOW)
Harry gave a small nod at the sight of his wand listed.
Nothing surprising there.
He did take good care of it. Every Sunday, like clockwork, he polished it with that special solution Hermione had once found in the library's Restricted Section (don't ask how). His wand had been with him through every moment of chaos since he was eleven. It had always felt like more than just a tool—it was a part of him.
And his cloak… had a title. A bloody title.
"'Deathly Hallow'?"
That stopped him short, and he narrowed his eyes slightly. He had noticed odd things about it over the years. Unlike Fred and George's prank gear or other enchanted robes or items, his cloak had never worn out. Never faded. Never needed recharging. And no spell, magical sensor, or even Dumbledore's eyes ever seemed to pierce through it—especially after he learned a few essential spells for sneaking.
He'd just assumed it was a really, really good enchantment. Something his dad had saved up for, or maybe a family heirloom.
Deathly Hallow? The name sounds ominous.
Shaking his head, Harry filed away 'Deathly Hallow' under 'Future Harry's Problem No. 3'—right after "What the hell is an X-Gene?" and "Is my head legally allowed to be this overworked?"
He let out a tired breath, rubbing his temples.
If he kept reacting to every little surprise, he was going to give himself a stroke.
"Okay. Now let's check the Novice Gift Pack. I am very excited about this thing," he muttered, tapping the floating screen.