HP - I Got My Sacred Gear... and It Manifested as a Chat Group!?

"Will he really come? Nobody has seen him for weeks. It's already time to start." A nervous asked, Harry almost didn't recognize it as Ludo Bagman. The Guy is probably worried about his plan of getting out of his debts with the Goblins.

"It's obvious he ran!" a heavy northern-accented voice said loudly in contempt from behind the door. Three guesses who that is.

"Dumble-dorr, it was un mistek to allow ze boy to partake in ze Tournament! 'E must 'ave been so frightened zat 'e ran away, oui?" came the heavenly French-accented voice of Madame Maxine.

This time a voice firmly replied, "I don't believe so. Mr. Potter inquired at the Ministry about his responsibilities and freedoms in this tournament. Weatherby has given him a detailed reply that he is permitted to leave the school in preparations for the tournament." That's Mr. Crouch.

"So where is he, Dumbledore?" Kakaroff asked gruffly.

"Harry has entered the Hogwarts Wards a while ago." An aged voice calmly replied.

"And here I am." Harry announced as he pushed the door open into a small classroom, the desks had been moved to the back of the room in order to create a small space for the Wand Weighing Ceremony.

The other participants had already been waiting for him and now were looking at him in astonishment.

Well, he got why; it's a small miscalculation on his part.

While he didn't really age, it didn't mean his body hadn't changed. Thanks to the muscles he has built up during his training, he was bulkier and even taller. The Digestion Potion has the small side effect of handling the damage caused by years of malnourishment.

Using the potions for months now before every meal allowed him to once again return to a relatively healthy body; combined with his training, he looked like a really healthy male, six-pack and everything included. It's visible even through his robes.

"Harry, what happened to you?" Dumbledore was the first one to get out of his stupor.

"What do you mean, Professor? I trained for the tournament, and here I am." Harry replied smugly. Let the man stew; why should he share anything with the headmaster who doesn't tell him shit?

"I can see that, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore replied, changing to using Harry's last name, probably to come over more strict. "We will have a talk in my office later."

"Sure, Headmaster."

"How about we start with the wand-weighing ceremony?" Bagman asked now more enthusiastically since Harry was here but got interrupted by someone else whose eyes hadn't left Harry from the moment he had entered the room.

It looked kind of predatory how Rita Skeeter stared at him.

Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson.

"I should interview Harry first." Rita said as she grabbed onto him, trying to pull him towards a nearby door.

Harry didn't budge even under her surprisingly strong grip.

"Ms. Skeeter, right? Did you already interview the other champions? Harry pointed towards Cedric, Fleur, and Krum, who were also standing in the room waiting for the ceremony to start.

"Eh, no—"

"Then there is no need to interview me too. You clearly have no interest in the tournament, and I am not prepared for an interview. I wouldn't recommend writing your typical slander about myself, Miss Skeeter; it will not end well for you." Harry said warmly, ignoring the baffled look of the woman as he freed his arm, turning back to the others, "Ah, Mr. Ollivander! It's good to see you again. I am ready to start!"

Harry sat down on one of the chairs prepared for the champions, right beside Cedric, and ignored the offended look on Rita Skeeter's face.

Before anything else could happen, Dumbledore decided to start the ceremony:

"As Mr. Potter has already mentioned, this is Mr. Ollivander, our expert." He explained to the Champions as he sat down at the judges table, "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Mr. Ollivander is an old and quiet wizard; Harry could feel a mysterious aura around him. It's almost as if he was a Nen Genius.

Which wouldn't be surprising in the Hunter World; after all, masters in a field often unconsciously utilize Nen. But this is the Wizarding World.

He hadn't changed over the last three years, since Harry had purchased his own wand in the old wandmaker's shop.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.

Fleur joined him and gracefully handed him her wand.

"Yes…" Ollivander muttered silently while carefully observing her wand, "nine and a half inches… inflexible… rosewood… and containing… dear me…"

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmothers'." Both Krum and Cedric starred at her, while Harry rather watched how Ollivander studied the Wand with interest.

The man has been unknowingly using Nen, a form of En, to be precise. His natural aura had entered the wand and revealed its properties to him.

It seems Nen wasn't something not existing in different universes; it just had different shapes and forms. Maybe in the Wizarding World it manifests as a special ability, like Ollivander's ability to tell a wand's properties.

Parseltongue, Metamorphmagi, and other abilities could be the same. A naturally developed Hatsu combined with magic? He had to experiment with it!

After making a flower bouquet appear with Fleur's wand, Mr. Ollivander repeated the same process with Cedric's and Krum's wands. Harry watched with fascination as the man's aura moved without being actively controlled or even awakened.

"Good." Said Ollivander as he handed Krum his wand back, "Which leaves… Mr. Potter."

Harry got up and strolled towards Mr. Ollivander under the gaze of the other people in the room as he handed his well-maintained wand over.

Since he knew of the ceremony, he made sure to take good care of it and even bought a wand care kit before leaving for the other world.

"Curious…" Mr. Ollivander said softly as his aura entered Harry's trusted Phoenix Core Wand, "How utterly fascinating."

"What is fascinating, Mr. Ollivander? Anything wrong with Harry's wand?" Rita Skeeter asked eagerly, like a bloodhound sniffing out the chance for gossip.

"Oh, not at all. This wand is very well maintained. It feels almost as if it is truly alive." Ollivander praised Harry's wand as he kept studying it, "Such a level of bonding between a wizard and his wand is only established after decades. And it feels as if the Wand itself has improved in quality since it left my shop."

This wasn't really a surprise to Harry; rather, he had noticed it too. From the beginning, a bit of Aura had clung to his wand, like any masterfully crafted object. But the amount had increased the more Harry had used his wand with Shu; a bit of his aura always sticks around his wand.

At this point it feels like the wand itself was a part of himself, which is nice since it had become far easier to use and even stronger.

But at the same time a bit troublesome since he had been planning at some point to abandon his wand and use different magic systems not relying on a tool, a foci like his wand.

Probably he will just do that, but keep his wand and use it as a trump card to empower his magic even more. Harry really liked his wand.

Mr. Ollivander took a really long time to study his wand, much longer than with the other three, but at some point he finished by simply conjuring a fountain of wine before handing it back to Harry with an approving nod, announcing that it was in perfect condition.

"Thank you all," said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now—or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end—Mr. Potter, follow me."

———

"Harry, where have you been?" Dumbledore asked firmly as he sat behind his desk in the Hogwarts Headmaster Office, his usually kind blue eyes piercing into Harry. Fawkes, on his perch, watched the two of them without making a noise.

"I already told you, Headmaster. Training." Harry answered briefly, his eyes moving from the Sword of Gryffindor hanging on the wall within its glass case towards the Headmaster.

"This won't do, Harry. I am your magical guardian and didn't give you permission to leave the premises." Dumbledore replied, his face showing disappointment.

"You are?" Harry pretended to be bewildered, "That's the first I hear about it. How come? The Magical Guardian for Muggleborns is their Head of House. Which I am not, and Professor McGonnagall is the Head of House Gryffindor. So that's not it. It should be handled by my parents will, which I find unlikely that it named you as my guardian, Sir. With all respect, you were just their headmaster."

"That's not the point, Harry. You were unprotected outside of the Hogwarts Wards without the ability to legally use magic. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? Any of Voldemort's old supporters could have located you!"

Dumbledore changed his approach without further elaborating on his previous point.

'Interesting. Did he just lie to me?' Harry pondered; the concept of a magical guardian has never been mentioned in the Harry Potter books; it's mostly fanfiction, but just now Dumbledore attempted to probably scare him, "So why didn't you?"

"Why what?"

"Why didn't you find me and bring me back? If it's so easy for Voldemort supporters to locate me, why couldn't the great Albus Dumbledore do it?" Harry pointed out, fully aware that it's impossible for Wizards to find him in another world, "Aren't you using some of these to track me already?"

Harry pointed at the collection of different silvery instruments all over the office; he is certain some of them are there to track him. Others to track Voldemort.

"How do you know that?" The old man growing more worried with every exchange. Harry must be creeping out the man with his changed character. Or because his grand plan wasn't going as he hoped anymore.

"I didn't. You just confirmed it." Harry chuckled.

"I have no choice, my boy." Dumbledore muttered distraught as he looked into Harry's eyes.

No second later he felt a presence pressing against his mental shields, and Dumbledore broke through them only to appear in a wide, dark space.

"He learned Occlumency… in two weeks… That's impossible. I am so sorry, Harry. I failed you, and now Tom is in control." Dumbledore sighed as his face lost all color in this imaginary space before he grew in determination.

The man had a face that Harry had never seen before.

Like a steeled warrior.

Before the man could come to any more wrong conclusions, "Wrong. I just have no interest in being a chess piece in someone else's game."

Not knowing where Harry's voice came from, Dumbledore quickly looked around searching for the origin only to spot, "A moon?"

"Close, but no. It's a Death Star with an automated defense fleet. Now get out of my head."

Suddenly a fleet of something that Dumbledore could only name as some kind of machines flew out of the openings in the so-called Death Star towards him.

Any decent Star Wars fan would recognize it as a massive fleet of different droid fighters from many different eras.

Before Dumbledore realized what was going on, he got hit by multiple plasma projectiles, waking up in pain from his Legilimency attack. His wand, the Elder Wand, already trained on Harry.

Harry had his own in his hand, ready to defend himself. "I don't appreciate it if people poke inside my head. So keep out of it, Headmaster. I had enough nightmares."

"How do I know you are really Harry Potter?" Dumbledore asked, unmoving.

"Isn't there a prophecy about me and Tom? Shouldn't it tell you that I am me? Or would whoever you think I am have such Occlumency defenses?" Harry pointed out. He only had shown the outer level of his Mind Palace, but a Death Star is something Wizards don't know.

"How do you know all that?" Dumbledore gritted his teeth, even more worried.

"I don't. Again, you confirmed it just now. But I could guess."

"How?"

"Well, the Dementor's made me remember the whole night my parents died. Tom wasn't there for them; he was there to kill me. Even told my mom to step aside.

Why would he want to kill a toddler? Why is Trelawney a Hogwarts professor? Harry pointed out, though he didn't conclude that originally, just later after knowing the whole story.

He wished his past self would have been smarter; there are so many clues in his past that could have made things easier.

"I see. And how do you explain your sudden mastery over Occlumency?" Dumbledore pointed out.

"I already told you. I have been training. Just for quite a bit longer than two weeks." Harry replied without any details, "So what will you do? Will we duel now?"

Dumbledore stared at him for a few more moments before lowering his wand; Harry did the same.

"And you will not tell me where you have been?" Dumbledore tried again.

"Will you tell me what the prophecy says? Or how Voldemort is still alive? What are your plans with me?" Harry asked, after Dumbledore remained silent, he finished, "I thought so. I am quite hungry, Headmaster, and will leave now."

"Stay on the grounds, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore said neutrally as Harry left his office.

"I will do what I am legally allowed."

( End of Chapter )

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