Harry looked at the Necromancer's apprentice and felt a cold shiver run down his spine.
The figure was cloaked in ragged black robes that clung to his tall frame like a second skin, tattered edges fluttering as if caught in a wind only he could feel. The hood was pulled forward, casting a shadow over his face, but Harry could still see the faint glow of his eyes—an unnatural, soul-piercing blue that flickered like frozen fire.
A bone-white mask covered the lower half of the apprentice's face, shaped like the jaw of a human skull. No skin, no flesh—only shadows and those terrifying eyes.
And then the skeleton warriors charged.
Six of them, armed with rusted swords and broken shields, clattered toward Harry with unnatural speed.
Harry didn't panic.
His training kicked in.
[Wind Step]
In a blur, he danced around the first swing, then ducked under a second. With a swift pirouette, he sliced through a skeleton's spine using his [Iron Sword, sending bones clattering across the chamber floor.
One. Two. Three—
Steel clashed and bones cracked as he fought them off, pushing his body to the limit. The apprentice remained seated on the throne, watching in eerie silence, as if testing Harry's limits.
Then the apprentice spoke.
His voice was cold and inhuman, like wind whistling through a crypt.
"Rise, my guardians… shield me from the warm breath."
The ritual circle at the center of the room flared to life, glowing with a sickly green light. Smoke and shadows erupted as seven ghostly figures—wraiths—rose from the circle, floating in the air like death incarnate.
They shrieked as they launched toward Harry with supernatural speed.
[New Enemies Detected: Wraith]
Harry barely had time to react. One wraith sliced across his chest with a claw of pure shadow, draining his stamina. Another grazed his shoulder. The cold of their touch numbed his limbs.
[HP -32]
[Debuff: Chilled – Movement Speed Reduced 10% for 15 seconds]
But Harry gritted his teeth and held his ground. Fire was their weakness.
He summoned a [Fireball, then another, and then another—his palms burning with raw power as he hurled flaming orbs through the air.
BOOM. One wraith burst into ash.
BOOM. Another screeched and disintegrated.
[MP -24]
[Enemy Defeated 7 – Wraith]
Breathing hard, Harry wiped sweat from his brow, only to realize the apprentice had begun chanting again.
Whatever spell he was preparing—Harry couldn't let it finish.
He had to end it now.
[Wind Step]
In a flash of movement, Harry closed the distance and leapt toward the throne. He planted his foot against the apprentice's chest and kicked with all his might.
The apprentice flew backward, smashing into the far wall, his throne toppling with a crash of stone and splinters. Dust filled the chamber. The hood fell back slightly, revealing more of the eerie blue light in his eyes, now glowing with fury.
For the first time, the apprentice moved.
Not in slow, floaty gestures like before, but with purpose—fast, controlled, and brimming with wrath.
Harry had done it.
He had pissed him off.
[Boss Battle Engaged: Necromancer's Apprentice – Level 15]
[WARNING: High Magic Signature Detected]
The moment the Necromancer's apprentice rose from the stone floor, a chilling wave of unnatural cold washed over Harry.
It wasn't the cold of winter—it was deeper, darker, a soul-numbing frost that coiled into his chest and dug into his thoughts. Harry staggered back, clutching his heart as his breath turned to mist. All the warmth, all the courage he had carefully built, seemed to be leeching out of him.
Dark thoughts filled his head—What if I never get stronger? What if I never belong anywhere? What if all of this is just some elaborate fantasy?
His vision blurred. His limbs trembled. Hope flickered.
And then—
[Dementor's Aura Detected]
[Gamer's Mind Activated – Immune to all mental/magical mind effects]
A blue notification box blinked before him like a life raft in stormy seas.
The suffocating despair lifted instantly.
Harry gasped for air and straightened just in time to dodge an incoming spell—an orange beam of pure destruction that erupted from the apprentice's wand. It slammed into the far wall of the crypt, obliterating a massive section of stone in a fiery blast.
Harry spun, eyes wide. That could've killed me!
Fueled by adrenaline, he retaliated.
[Fireball!]
A glowing sphere of flame exploded from his palm, streaking toward the apprentice. It struck true, staggering the robed figure as smoke and fire danced along the edges of his tattered cloak.
Without giving the enemy a chance to recover, Harry rushed forward, sword raised.
He slashed—
CRACK!
His blade snapped in half.
The broken steel clattered to the stone floor.
Harry cursed under his breath. I should've reinforced it... Damn it.
The apprentice launched another barrage of spells, dark magic arcing across the chamber.
[Water Shield!]
A dome of swirling water snapped into place around Harry, absorbing the blasts with splashes and steam. He gritted his teeth, waiting for a lull. As the final bolt fizzled against the shield, Harry dispelled it and countered with a series of fireballs.
Each one struck the apprentice squarely, chipping away at the massive red health bar hovering above him.
Still not enough.
[Poison Mist]
Dark green fog hissed from Harry's hands, blanketing the room.
Inside the mist, Harry moved like a ghost. He was immune to his own poison, but the apprentice wasn't. From the shadows, Harry attacked—fire, blade fragments, even punches. Whatever he could manage.
The apprentice screeched in frustration and activated Dementor's Aura again and again, but Harry's mind was ironclad.
Each time the ritual circle began to glow, Harry interrupted it—either with fire, blades, or sheer physical force. Every chant was broken. Every summon failed.
The apprentice grew slower, wearier.
The health bar dipped lower… and lower…
Until—
With one final, full-powered fireball—
BOOOOM!
The apprentice screamed, the blue light in his eyes flaring once more—then fading completely. His body disintegrated into smoke and shadow, melting into the floor with a dying hiss.
Silence returned.
A familiar chime echoed.
[ Quest Complete: Defeat the Necromancer's Apprentice – Level 15]
[ XP Gained: 1000]
[ Loot Dropped – Tap to View]
Harry fell to his knees, gasping for air, sweat dripping from his forehead. His heart thundered in his chest.
He had done it.
He had survived.
As the dust settled and the eerie glow of the ritual circle faded, Harry took a deep breath and approached the remains of the Necromancer's Apprentice. His body had disintegrated into shadow and ash, leaving behind a dark pile of items that shimmered with magical aura.
He knelt down and began sorting through the loot.
[ Dementor's Cloak]
A dark, tattered cloak that pulses with soul-numbing chill. Grants minor resistance to fear and mental effects. When worn, user becomes harder to detect in darkness.
[ Wand of Blackwood – Core: Thestral Hair]
A powerful wand suited for dark or advanced magic. Boosts necromancy and shadow spells.
[ Gringotts Vault Key – Vault #231]
An official Gringotts key.
[ Silver Trunk Key]
A sturdy key with a silver bow, clearly enchanted. Likely fits a storage trunk hidden elsewhere in the dungeon.
Harry's eyes widened at the Gringotts key. A vault? He pocketed it quickly and turned his attention to the silver key.
[New Quest Created: Discover Contents of Vault 231]
After a bit of exploration, Harry discovered a silver trunk hidden behind a fallen pillar in the Hall of Offering.
He unlocked it with a satisfying click, and the lid creaked open to reveal:
[ Vial of Felix Felicis]
Liquid Luck – grants exceptional luck for a short period. Rare and incredibly valuable.
[ 100 Gold Galleons]
[ Moonstone Ring of Lycan Scent]
Glows faintly in the presence of werewolves. Crafted by an ancient Seer family.
[ Family Crest Medallion – Unknown House]
A golden medallion with an unfamiliar sigil. Might be connected to the nicromancer's apprentice bloodline.
[ Gold Trunk Key]
Heavy and ornate. Clearly guards a powerful treasure.
If there's a gold key, Harry thought, then there must be a gold trunk.
He retraced his steps, this time returning to the circular ritual chamber where he had defeated the Apprentice. There, at the very heart of the glowing ritual circle, sat a massive trunk reinforced with gold trim and bound in black iron.
He inserted the key—
CLICK.
The lid groaned open, and Harry's eyes lit up.
[ Necromancer's Grimoire – Tier: Low]
A forbidden spellbook containing beginner-level necromancy spells: Bone Bind, Corpse Whisper, Lesser Raise Skeleton. Requires high Willpower to master.
[ Sword of Mithril Edge]
A beautifully forged blade made from light, near-indestructible mithril. Swift and deadly. 25% damage.
[ Amulet of Whispering Skulls]
Allows the wearer to detect hidden enemies in a 20-meter radius. Occasionally whispers advice from the dead… whether you want it or not.
[ Scroll of Wraith Flight]
A single-use spell scroll. Grants user limited flight and incorporeality for 60 seconds, mimicking the movement of Wraiths.
Harry stood in silence, staring at the haul.
He had come looking for answers… and found power, riches, and a vault key that could hold even more mysteries.
[XP Gained: 800]
[Level Up! You are now Level 9]
[New Quest Unlocked: Open Vault 231]
[Spellbook Added: Necromancer's Grimoire (Unread)]
[Skill Progress: Fireball 1 Wind Step 1 Poison mist 1]
He tucked away the items into his inventory, eyes gleaming with resolve.
This is just the beginning.
[Status Window]
[Name: Harry James Potter]
[Level: 9]
[EXP: 300/ 900]
[Class: Wizard]
[Title: The Dead Killer]
[HP: 350 / 350]
[MP: 600 / 600]
[Stamina: 220 / 220]
[Strength: 17]
[Dexterity: 21]
[Intelligence: 27]
[Wisdom: 22]
[Endurance: 22]
[Luck: 17]
[Charisma: 10]
[Currency: £: 220 / G: 279 / S: 8]
[Skill List]
[Wind Step] – Lv. 7]
[Poison Mist Attack] – Lv. 5]
[Fireball] – Lv. 6]
[Water Shield] – Lv. 5]
[Observe] – Lv. 6]
[ID Create] – Lv. 3]
[ID Escape] – Lv. 3]
The battle with the Necromancer's Apprentice had changed Harry.
It didn't matter that he'd won. He barely survived. His armor had been cracked. His sword was broken. His mana had run dangerously low. And the scariest part was… he almost gave up halfway.
For the first time, he realized something:
He is not strong as he imagined.
And that thought terrified him more than any boss monster.
After returning to his Instant Dungeon, Harry activated the scroll using [Quick Learning].
He didn't expect the sensation of flight to feel so... right.
It was more than just floating. He moved through the air like a ghost, silent and free. He swooped over rooftops under the moonlight, laughing softly to himself, and soon became addicted to it.
[Skill Leveled Up: Wraith Flight – Level 4]
You move with eerie grace. Grants limited flight. MP drains slowly while active. Movement Speed 40% while airborne.
Harry made it a routine to fly to the grocery store at night, when no one could see him. It was faster, easier, and honestly… way cooler than walking.
His inventory was full of snacks, canned food, potions, tools, books, and some random junk that even he forgot why he kept.
He liked the Moonstone Ring because it shimmered faintly and adjusted to his finger like liquid. The Dementor Cloak, while extremely powerful with its [Dementor Aura], stayed in storage for now—it was too terrifying to wear casually. Even Dudley started crying once when Harry accidentally wore it inside his bedroom.
The Amulet of Whispering Skulls, though? That stayed on his neck. Not because it was useful (though it was), but because its insults were hilarious.
"Turn the walrus man into actual blubber."
"Feed the horse-woman oats and be done with it."
"Slap the pig-child with a salmon. That's ancient magic, boy."
Then came the real problem.
The Necromancer's Grimoire.
Harry had pulled it from the deepest part of the dungeon—the most guarded trunk in the heart of death itself. The leather was stitched with black thread, and the cover hummed with old, dangerous magic.
He had it in his hands now. He had read the title. He had even unlocked it. But he hadn't opened it.
Because he was afraid.
"Necromancers are always villains." That's what stories said.
They raised the dead, corrupted the land, enslaved souls, and did creepy rituals with bone dust and eyeballs. And yet… he had no other way to get stronger. He had no spellbook, no mentor, and no magical school.
Just this.
Just this dark gift.
[Moral Choice Prompt]
Do you study the Necromancer's Grimoire?
Yes – Power is power. Learn to control it.
No – Darkness leads to darkness. Find another way.
Harry stared at the options.
His hand trembled slightly as he hovered over them. His Gamer Mind kept him calm, but even the system didn't shield him from consequences.
He wasn't ready to choose yet.
But he knew the choice would come.
Very soon.
Author's Note
Since many of you wanted me to continue this story, I've decided to do so — but with a few changes.
In this version, Neville Longbottom is the Boy Who Lived. Voldemort went to Longbottom Manor that fateful night, while sending Death Eaters to attack the Potters. The Potters are still dead, but the world believes Neville to be the one who defeated the Dark Lord.
You may notice in earlier chapters I sometimes referred to Harry as the Boy Who Lived — please ignore those mentions, as the story direction has shifted. I want Harry to be able to level up and grow in strength away from the constant pressure and fame of being the Chosen One.
This change will give me more freedom to build drama, tension, and character growth, while keeping the "Gamer" progression system intact.
__________________________
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