Harry didn't hesitate. He picked up the small green pill—Enhanced NZT-48—and swallowed it in one smooth motion. The effect was immediate.
It was as though something deep inside his mind unlocked with a soft, silent click. Then another. And another. A thousand doors opening at once. His thoughts, once foggy and fragmented like an old radio struggling for signal, suddenly sharpened with breathtaking clarity.
It felt like someone had wiped clean the dusty windows of his mind, letting in blinding light. He sucked in a startled breath.
Memories from his previous life—some he hadn't even known he'd forgotten—flooded into perfect focus. His childhood home. His school days. The moment he was hired for his first job. His favorite meals. His mistakes. His triumphs. He could even remember the day he was born as though it were written on a crisp, freshly printed page laid open before him.
And everything he had once struggled with—languages, complex mathematics, scientific theories, logic puzzles—now unfolded effortlessly inside his thoughts. Equations solved themselves. Patterns aligned. Concepts connected with silky smoothness.
His mind moved faster. Cleaner. Beautifully.
Novels he had read in his past life replayed word-for-word behind his eyelids. Movies and games reappeared with flawless detail. Storylines, characters, plots, strategies—every single one became vivid, accessible, organized like files on a perfect mental library shelf. He could revisit them at will, anytime, as easily as lifting a finger.
He laughed softly, unable to contain the thrill that surged through him. This wasn't just intelligence. This was mastery. Mastery of his own brain.
He could read a book once and remember every line. Learn spells, magical theory, entire subjects in hours. Understand politics, economics, battle strategy. Outthinking all the people present in this world.
Still riding the thrill of his newfound abilities, Harry reached for the Basic Chakra Techniques scroll and carefully unrolled it. The text within was dense, precise, and instructional—something that should have taken him at least an hour to properly absorb. He finished it in five minutes.
The words didn't just register; they imprinted. Each diagram, explanation, and warning embedded itself perfectly into his mind, neatly catalogued by his enhanced hypermind. When he rolled the scroll back up and closed his eyes, the entire text replayed itself effortlessly, every line as clear as if it were still written in front of him.
"Incredible…" he murmured. Curious, Harry decided to test it immediately.
He followed the posture described in the scroll, settling into a lotus position on the cupboard floor. His hands formed the Zenjō-in mudra, fingers interlocked with practiced precision. According to the instructions, he was meant to circulate Chakra. But for him it should be Magic or rather more suitable name like Mana.
"Mana fits better than Magic," he thought calmly.
Guiding the flow as the scroll described, he began circulating mana through his body in steady, deliberate patterns. Almost instantly, a faint bluish glow shimmered around his form, casting soft light against the wooden walls. A low swish… swish… echoed from within him, like air rushing through invisible channels. The sound grew louder. Stronger. Too strong.
Harry's eyes snapped open. That's not good. He immediately halted the mana flow, the glow fading and the sound dying down until the cupboard returned to silence. His heart pounded—not from fear, but from excitement barely kept in check.
"So it works," he whispered.
But this wasn't something he could practice here. Not yet. Waking the Dursleys would only invite more punishment—and he couldn't afford that.
Harry leaned back against the wall, exhaling slowly as he committed the sensation to memory. When I'm alone, he promised himself. Then I'll push further.
At last, Harry's gaze settled on the final item floating quietly before him—the Elixir of Vitalis. He reached out and took the small flask into his hand, studying it closely. The liquid inside glowed a deep, blood-red hue, swirling slowly as if it were alive. Power radiated from it—not aggressive, not overwhelming, but warm and reassuring.
"Guess you're next," Harry murmured.
Without wasting time, he twisted the cap open. Just as he lifted the flask toward his lips—
[Ding… Warning detected.]
[Ding… Two foreign souls detected within the Host.]
[Option available: Integrate or Destroy.]
Harry froze. Two souls. He already knew the answer. One was the fragmented remnant of Voldemort, lodged inside him since infancy. The other… was the original Harry Potter—the boy whose life he had inherited.
He lowered the flask slowly. "System," he said calmly, "what happens if I integrate them?"
[Ding… If the Host integrates the souls, the Host will gain parts of their memories, knowledge, and partial bloodline traits. No emotional, mental, or personality influence will remain.]
"And if I destroy them?"
[Ding… Destruction will cause extreme pain without the perks of integration. Afterward, only the Host's soul will remain.]
Harry fell silent. Destroying them would be cleaner. Simpler. But integration meant understanding—knowledge of magic, Hogwarts, Voldemort's rise, and the mistakes that led to his fall. Knowledge was power, and Harry wasn't about to discard it out of fear.
"I'll integrate them," he said firmly.
The response came instantly.
[Ding… Soul integration initiated.]
[15%… 45%… 75%… 100%]
[Integration complete.]
A wave of warmth surged through his very soul—not painful, not violent, but deeply comforting, as if something fractured had finally become whole. Harry gasped softly, clutching his chest as unfamiliar memories rushed into his mind.
A lonely orphanage. Cold stares. Cruel experiments. A boy named Tom Riddle discovering magic without guidance—or restraint. His years at Hogwarts. His obsession with bloodlines. The forbidden allure of the Dark Arts. Spells, thousands of them. Wand movements. Incantations. Magical theory. Horcruxes, The agony of ripping a soul apart. Their locations—some clear, some vague, some hidden behind layers of paranoia and fear.
And finally—Death. Green light. Recoil. The backlash of Avada Kedavra tearing through a broken soul.
Harry exhaled slowly as the torrent settled, his enhanced mind dissecting, cataloguing, understanding. What would have driven a lesser person insane became data. Information. A map of mistakes not to be repeated.
"…So that's how it all really happened," he whispered.
He opened his eyes, which gleamed faintly in the darkness—not with madness, not with cruelty, but with calm certainty. Now he knew Hogwarts from the inside. Now he understood Voldemort—not as a monster, but as a failure. And now—he was no longer a pawn in someone else's story.
He raised the flask of Elixir of Vitalis once more.
"Time to fix the body," he said quietly. And drank it in one gulp.
A gentle current spread through his body, soothing and almost comforting. Then—without warning—the warmth intensified, rising rapidly until it felt like boiling magma coursing through his veins. Harry's breath hitched as pain exploded from the inside out.
His bones cracked, splintering apart before forcibly knitting themselves back together, stronger than before. Muscles tore, reformed, and condensed, every fiber screaming as it was reforged. Agony tore through him in relentless waves, sharp enough to steal his breath—but Harry clenched his teeth, fists digging into the floor, refusing to make a single sound. He could not scream.
From every pore, every orifice, a thick black, foul-smelling substance began to ooze out—impurities, years of malnutrition and damage being forcibly expelled. Within minutes, his small body was completely smeared in the dark sludge. The torture dragged on.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Fifteen.
By the time the pain finally receded, Harry collapsed against the cupboard wall, drenched in sweat and trembling—but alive. More than alive. He inhaled deeply. Strength flooded his limbs. His body felt light. Balanced. Right.
His vision sharpened suddenly, the world snapping into crystal clarity. Blinking in surprise, Harry reached up and removed his glasses. He didn't need them anymore. Then the smell hit him. Harry grimaced. "Right—bathroom. Now."
He bolted out of the cupboard and slipped into the bathroom without making any noise, he scrubed himself clean under the shower until the last trace of black residue washed away. When he finally turned the water off and wiped the steam from the mirror, he froze. The reflection staring back at him was… different.
His eyes were the first thing he noticed—no longer dull green, but a deep, luminous emerald, glowing faintly. His pupils had narrowed into vertical slits, subtle yet unmistakably serpentine.
His face had changed too—cleaner, sharper, almost ethereal. Years of neglect and malnutrition were gone, replaced by an otherworldly beauty that didn't look forced, but natural. His hair, once permanently messy, now fell in smooth, elegant strands as if it had never known neglect. He stood taller—just a few centimeters, but enough to notice.
And his body…
Harry stared in stunned silence. The frail, underfed frame was gone. In its place was a lean, athletic build, muscles defined perfectly, balanced and strong without excess. Every movement he did felt precise, powerful, efficient and flexible like a snake.
"…Wow," he whispered.
Pulling his clothes back on, Harry slipped quietly out of the bathroom and returned to his cupboard, heart pounding with excitement.
Back inside the cupboard, Harry leaned against the wall and let out a slow breath, steadying himself. His body still hummed faintly with strength, unfamiliar yet perfectly responsive.
"System," he said quietly, "do you have an interface that shows detailed information about my body?"
A familiar chime answered him.
[Ding… Status interface available.]
A translucent panel unfolded before his eyes, glowing softly in the darkness.
---
[Status
Name: Harry Potter
Age: 10
Class: Wizard
Bloodline: Jade Serpent (Awakened)
Strength: 50 (Normal: 10)
Defense: 80 (Normal: 10–20)
Agility: 70 (Normal: 20)
Mana: 1000 (Normal: 10–50)]
---
Harry stared. "…That's absurd" he said to himself. Even ignoring the ridiculous mana pool, his physical stats alone were far beyond anything remotely human. And then his eyes landed on the line that truly made his breath catch.
Bloodline: Jade Serpent (Awakened)
"A bloodline?" he murmured. "So that's what changed…" Instinctively, he focused on it. The panel shifted, expanding into a detailed description.
---
[Jade Serpent Bloodline]
An ancient magical creature of immense vitality. A noble serpent, superior even to basilisks, revered in forgotten eras.
Abilities Gained:
1. Poison Resistance:
Immunity to all known poisons.
2. Poison Fang:
Venom-producing fangs capable of alteration by the Host. Effects may include lethality, paralysis, hallucinations, aphrodisiac
3. Jade Scales:
Emerald scales covering the Host's body, providing powerful resistance against physical damage and harmful spells.
4. Snake Gaze:
A cold, domineering gaze that induces fear, chills the spirit, and weakens the mental defenses of those who meet it.
5. Jade Serpent Transformation:
Allows transformation into a Jade Serpent. Shape and size may be altered at will.
Current maximum length: 50 feet.
Potential increases with age and growth.
---
Harry went completely silent. He read it once. Then again. "…This is real," he whispered.
The stats were already difficult to process—but a bloodline awakening? That explained the changes to his eyes, his body, his presence. It also made sense now—integrating Voldemort's soul, combined with the Elixar of Vitalis, must have triggered it.
He exhaled slowly, forcing his racing thoughts into order.
Poison resistance alone was priceless in a world where potions, venomous creatures, and assassination attempts were common. Poison Fang was terrifyingly versatile—though the more unusual applications made him stunned. "That was unexpected," he muttered, shaking his head. He admited that in his previous life he was not married but now thinking about he Female characters in Harry Potter he was now sure that with the aphrodisiac affect and his newly gained beauty he was capable of getting the female characters approval and could start a harem of his own as it was a dream of his in his previous life but now he can fullfill it now.
Jade Scales and Snake Gaze were straightforward and practical—defensive, intimidating, perfect for survival. And the final ability—Jade Serpent Transformation.
Harry's lips curved upward.
"An animagus without the years of risk and training," he said quietly. "And stronger." Not learned. Not cultivated. Inherited from blood.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling of the cupboard, heart pounding with exhilaration. The power was overwhelming but still he have a long way to go as there were monsters like Voldomort and Dumbledore in this world.
After calming his racing thoughts, Harry finally shifted his attention to the envelope resting beside him. It lay there quietly, yet carried a weight far heavier than parchment alone.
Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowed parchment that felt ancient beneath his fingers. The address was written in precise, emerald-green ink, elegant and unmistakably magical. There was no stamp.
Turning it over, Harry's hand trembled slightly as he saw the purple wax seal, unbroken. Imprinted upon it was a familiar coat of arms: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake, encircling a large, ornate letter H.
He broke the seal and unfolded the letter inside.
-----
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress.
-----
This was the content of the letter and another paper was included about the necessary books and equipments.
Harry exhaled slowly, then reached for a paper and a pen. His hand moved steadily as he wrote—simple, clear, and sincere—stating that he was ready and willing to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, eager to learn magic and begin his education. When he finished, he folded the letter neatly, tucking it into his pocket.
Carefully, he slipped out of the house without making noise and stepped into the cool night air.
Perched atop the mailbox was a black owl, its sharp eyes fixed on him, unblinking and intelligent. Harry paused for a moment, then smiled faintly. He knew without doubt where it had come from.
"This is for you," he whispered.
He held out the letter, and the owl stepped forward gracefully, taking it in its beak. With a single powerful beat of its wings, it lifted into the night sky, disappearing into the darkness above Privet Drive.
Harry stood there for a moment longer, watching until it was gone.
Then he turned back inside.
Returning to the cupboard beneath the stairs, he closed the door quietly behind him. His heart was still beating fast, excitement humming beneath his calm, but he forced himself to breathe slowly, steadily, until the feeling settled.
For the first time in a very long while, Harry lay down without fear or restlessness. Wrapped in the quiet certainty of what lay ahead, he closed his eyes—
And slept peacefully.