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Chapter 1: The "Lie Low · Get Rich · Reach the Peak" Plan
A Harry Potter Parallel Universe
1 September, 1986
Lestrange Manor, Ben Nevis, Western Highlands of Scotland
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"Miss Hydra Lestrange."
Northon Grey, dressed in impeccable butler's attire, bowed respectfully to the eleven-year-old girl before him.
"You have turned eleven this year, yet your Hogwarts letter has not arrived."
Hydra shrugged lightly. From the moment she chose to hide herself, she had known this day would come sooner or later.
"Mr Grey," she said calmly, "is it because it's been confirmed that I'm a Squib, so you're preparing to throw me out of the manor?"
The girl had ink-black hair and large, bright eyes like polished obsidian, full of spirit. A sweet smile rested on her delicate face.
Her composure unsettled Northon Grey.
If this young lady were not a Squib—if she had been allowed to realise the terrifying talent she displayed at birth…
"No, Miss," Northon replied, drawing his wand and pointing it directly at her. "Although your parents are imprisoned in Azkaban and cannot communicate with the outside world, I refuse to believe they would ever accept their daughter being a Squib."
The tip of his wand traced an elegant arc through the air.
"So," he said softly, "go and meet Merlin, Miss Hydra."
"Avada Kedavra!"
A jet of green light shot forth, narrowly missing Hydra and instead scorching the surface of a purple velvet sofa, leaving it charred black.
Hydra had already rolled away, diving into the open space to the left of the sofa.
She sprang to her feet at once, adopting a guarded stance.
Her superb reflexes and powerful physique had allowed her to evade the Killing Curse.
But why would a young lady who rarely left the manor possess such terrifying physical ability?
For eleven years, she had continuously dispersed the magic from her magic circuits into her limbs and bones. As a result, her magic circuits were perpetually empty, devoid of even a trace of magic.
(Magic circuits are not canon; they are a common fantasy setting.)
This made her appear to be a Squib.
Yet because her body had been soaked in magic for years, her current physical strength rivalled that of a XXXX-rated magical creature.
Watching Hydra dodge the Killing Curse with ease, Northon narrowed his eyes and flicked his wand again. A streak of red light followed by a flash of yellow shot toward the girl in rapid succession.
As a butler, Northon Grey had unrestricted access to the Lestrange family library. His magical prowess was considerable—roughly on par with Lucius Malfoy in combat.
Even so, the spells missed again.
Keeping low, Hydra weaved through the barrage, dodging while searching for an opening to close the distance.
She was confident that once she got close enough, the fight would end instantly.
In her previous life, she had been an avid fan of Zhang Weili. Obsessed with the UFC, she had trained in mixed martial arts for two and a half years.
Though she ultimately quit due to a lack of talent, applying those techniques to her current body was like adding wings to a tiger.
"Mr Grey," Hydra asked calmly as she dodged another spell, "are today's actions your own decision—or the Grey family's?"
In Northon's eyes, no matter how exceptional an eleven-year-old Squib's combat instincts were, she was already as good as dead. There was no need to hide the truth.
"Rodolphus and Rabastan are both locked away in Azkaban," he said coldly. "And you, the only remaining Lestrange heir, happen to be a Squib."
"Those two will never return. Rather than allowing the Lestrange family assets to fall into the hands of a Squib like you, it would be far better for the Grey family to take them over."
"That way," he added smugly, "the honour of a pure-blood family remains intact."
Hydra curled her lip slightly.
Honour of a pure-blood family?
It was nothing more than naked greed.
Whether she was truly a Squib or not didn't actually matter. Once the Greys had set their sights on her inheritance, there was nothing a lone, powerless child could do to stop them from siphoning off the Lestrange estate step by step.
At least, that was what they believed.
Her status as a "Squib" merely gave them a convenient excuse.
Kill her first.
Then announce that Hydra Lestrange was a Squib.
Problem solved.
Crude? Full of holes?
Not at all.
We merely expelled the Squib from Lestrange Manor.
How would the Grey family know whether she lived or died afterwards?
The matter would end there. No one would investigate further.
After all, the wizarding world had never cared about the lives—or deaths—of Squibs.
A sharp Diffindo shattered an ornate vase, fragments flying across the room.
"Hey! Northon, watch it!" Hydra protested. "That's a Chinese vase from Louis XIV's collection! It's worth over a thousand Galleons!"
Northon continued his assault unabated, replying with a pleasant smile.
"The young lady needn't worry. From today onward, everything here belongs to the Grey family."
Hydra frowned.
If the Greys swallowed up the Lestrange fortune now, how much would remain even if she made a triumphant return twelve years later?
This was not part of her original plan.
The reason she had pretended to be a Squib was simple:
to stay as far away as possible from the struggle between Lord Voldemort and Albus Dumbledore.
After all, if one transmigrates only once, shouldn't survival come first?
Eleven years ago, not long after she was born, her magic had gone berserk—levelling the entire nursery and nearly killing Bellatrix Lestrange in the process.
Lord Voldemort had been delighted.
"Ha! Such powerful magic!" he had laughed. "A gift from heaven! Bella, raise her well. She will become my most formidable weapon against Dumbledore!"
Terrifying.
Hydra had been scared stiff on the spot—quite literally wetting herself, even while in Voldemort's arms.
From the moment she was born, her fate had been sealed by the Dark Lord himself.
Either she would become Voldemort's vanguard and die clashing with Dumbledore and the Child of Destiny…
or she would be branded a traitor and hunted down by Death Eaters as a priority target.
Sigh.
The adorable little girl sighed inwardly.
Couldn't life just be kinder?
Thus, as a newborn, she devised a grand strategy:
The "Lie Low Until After the Final Battle · Get Rich Overnight · Reach the Peak of Life" Plan.
She would pretend to be a Squib.
She would stay far away from the heart of the conflict—Hogwarts.
To do this, she deliberately dispersed the magic from her magic circuits into her body.
Don't ask how a newly transmigrated baby managed it.
Call it a transmigrator's privilege.
Enhanced mental strength. Strengthened soul. And so on.
It was extremely dangerous—no one had ever attempted such a thing before. Death was a very real possibility.
But as the saying went, an infant's potential is limitless.
Though reckless, Hydra succeeded.
Her body adapted to the constant saturation of magic, and her magic circuits developed the habit of dispersing magic the instant it appeared.
Being expelled as a Squib didn't matter.
As long as she lived under an assumed identity until after the final battle—once her bargain-bin parents and uncle were all dead—she could simply restore her wizarding status and inherit the vast Lestrange fortune.
No studying.
No fighting to the death.
Just lie low until Voldemort fell—and enjoy a lifetime of wealth and comfort.
Perfect.
And the plan worked flawlessly.
She never received a Hogwarts letter.
She even celebrated for several nights.
Yet now, the Grey family was about to destroy everything.
Damn it!
She had even fooled the Quill of Acceptance and the Book of Admittance at Hogwarts!
But she hadn't accounted for human greed.
The Grey family.
What happened to the loyal old butler act?
—
Dodging yet another Killing Curse, Hydra's eyes suddenly lit up.
She had spotted Northon's opening.
Pushing off the floor, she hurled herself forward like a cannonball.
Caught off guard and unable to cast another spell in time, panic flashed across Northon's face as he watched her small fist rapidly fill his vision.
Hydra was ecstatic.
So what if she couldn't use magic?
Victory was still within reach!
Trying to steal her inheritance?
Not a chance.
She wouldn't let them have even a single Knut.
"Impedimenta!"
Blue-green sparks erupted as the air warped violently.
Hydra felt her body seize. The surrounding space became unbearably heavy, as though she had fallen into a swamp.
She turned her head toward the staircase.
There stood Stevenson Grey, Northon's nephew, wand in hand.
He was the one who had cast the Impediment Jinx.
Careless.
She hadn't expected Northon to have help.
She was just a little Squib—was this really necessary?
Northon staggered back several steps, his heart pounding. That moment had been far too close.
A cruel smile then spread across his face as he raised his wand once more, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
"A—"
Farewell, Miss Hydra.
"va—"
May you be reborn into a better life next time.
"da—"
I'll prepare a fine coffin for you later.
Crack!
The sharp sound of Apparition echoed through the hall.
A small yellow-green figure appeared beside Hydra.
Northon's expression changed instantly, panic flooding his eyes as he hurriedly finished the incantation.
"Kedavra!"
Crack!
Another Apparition.
The green curse smashed into a large vase instead, costing the Grey family another thousand Galleons.
Hydra was gone.
Northon and Stevenson stared at one another in stunned silence.
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