{The small bedroom, Number 4, Privet Drive}
'What the fuck did I drink yesterday?' I thought as I slowly woke up, trying to push past the dusty cobwebs of my dizzy thoughts in the morning. I stretched habitually as I tried to escape the embrace of my comfy... my comfy bed...
'Where is my comfy bed?' My eyes snapped open as I looked up at the dusty, blurry ceiling. It took a moment to realize something had gone very, very wrong.
'What the fuck happened to my eyesight?' I thought as I rubbed my eyes. Normally, it was like this every day; the clogs were normally cleared by a swipe or two, and I was supposed to get my perfect eyesight back.
A sense of dejavu hit me as I tried to reach for something and my fingers curled around a wire frame. With confusion etched onto my face, I brought the round circular glasses in front of my eyes and realized that my eyes had not gone bad. I had just somehow become nearsighted after drinking two bottles of Jägermeister last night.
'Again, can someone tell me what happened?'
"Ian, are you there? What prank is this?" I shouted out, but there was no sign of any of my dormmates around. I looked at the room I was in, it was pretty small yet still larger than my room, a little dusty but looked lived in. I looked down at the oversized T-shirt that was hanging on my frame.
I felt a little weak and dizzy, or maybe that was the panic attack, but I soon saw one of the two doors leading out of the room was slightly ajar, and from the tiles I could tell that it was a bathroom. I dashed towards it, pushed past the gate as it slammed against the wall, and looked at the mirror in quiet disbelief.
'Well, fuck me.' I thought as I looked at the person staring back at me. It was a face that I was used to; at least most of my facial features were the same, except I looked a little gaunt, with some darker circles around my eyes. Still, it was the eyes that were the second most eye-catching part.
They were green. And not those pale greenish-bluish things that people like to pass as green, but an exotic deep green. There was that, and the scar etched onto my forehead that told me all I needed to know.
'Well, someone definitely is playing a prank on me.' I traced the mark on my forehead. It wasn't makeup like I expected. Tracing it, I could feel the roughness of scar tissue, an injury that never healed. An injury given to an infant on the day his parents were killed by a dark lord, a silly one, but a dark lord nonetheless.
My thoughts broke when I heard voices outside my door. It looked like an argument had broken out, but I was pretty sure they were coming closer. I tried to think, to remember what had happened as I looked into my green eyes in the mirror.
'Okay, let's just go with the flow. I have managed to coast through life once. I'm sure I could deal with a little breaking and entering.' I psyched myself up as I looked at my facial features and then at my height.
'Okay, let's just say I'm Harry Potter. I'm now stuck in this universe where magic is real... Okay, that's a plus point. I look like I'm around 18-19, so I'm pretty sure that my counterpart had already taken care of Voldemort. Amazing, that would help, and I don't know any magic... yeah, this is going to suck if I have to cram through 7 years of education in the next few months so as not to arouse suspicion.'
As I went through a checklist of what to do, I finally heard what was being said from the other side of the door.
"...and I'm telling you the boy is not here." I heard a gruff voice speak out. I would place the accent as British, not too familiar with the nuances of the difference between their regional dialect.
"I heard the boy, Mr. Dursley. Now, if you'll excuse me," A rather chipped voice said, and after a moment, a spell was cast, confirming my suspicions.
"~Alohomora~."
'Okay, why are the Dursleys still here? Pretty sure they ran away at the start of the Deathly Hallows. Please don't tell me I arrived here just to die,' I thought as I walked out of the bathroom and came face to face with... is that Prof. McGonagall?
'She looks... good... hot even.' I thought before shaking that thought away. Minerva looked a lot younger than she was shown in the movies or how she was written. She looked older, middle-aged, and not at all a wrinkled mess. Her green dress flattered her curves as it stretched across her frankly voluptuous body. It was easy to tell she was who I thought she was because her name floated above her head, otherwise I would not have been 100% sure.
...
[Minerva McGonagall]
[10]
...
'What exactly does that 10 mean?' I thought.
"Mr. Potter, it's good to see you after all these years." The woman gave me a small smile, her lips curving upwards just slightly.
I looked at her in confusion and finally said, "It's good to meet you, Mrs?"
"You can call me Prof. McGonagall, dear," she said, smiling at me. Her smile, though, didn't last long, as I was pretty confused about why she was implying we were meeting for the first time. Even though I went with her flow, I was also a little confused about the fucking floating screen above her head.
"Don't tell they didn't tell you about Hogwarts." Her kind smile vanished into a glare as she turned it toward the pudgy man with a grey mustache who had walked in behind her. And that would be Vernon Dursley.
'Alright, something even weirder than me being transmigrated into Harry Potter is going on,' My thought was quickly answered by Minerva.
"You see, my dear, you are not an ordinary boy. You are a wizard, Harry. Just like your parents were, your Mom and Dad," her eyes flickered toward Vernon and Petunia, the redheaded woman who had just walked in, before turning back to me. "And every witch or wizard goes to Hogwarts when they turn 18 to learn magic."
'...say what?'
---
AN: Adding portraits of Minerva in the comments. This story was inspired by Harry Potter: Ero World, and the lemon games, The Lemon Games, a Naruto fanfic. The main theme of this novel is corruption, sluttification, and bimbofication of the women in the Harry Potter universe, while also focusing on magic and a progression fantasy.
Hope you guys like it.