Chapter 3: (C)haracter Sheet

After he'd finished lunch, Harry was keenly aware of the few hours left as his first quest counted down to a potentially ruined dinner. Could he just stay away from the house for the evening, or would the mysterious Dobby ruin the dinner if he wasn't there to stop the elf? Should he try to find and confront him earlier? Should he just look around Little Whinging for more quests like the one that had spontaneously appeared to show him that he could get something useful from Sally Thompson?

What was he even getting from these quests, other than early warning about things that might happen? The skill books were obviously helpful. The inventory was potentially incredibly useful. But what did XP do? Presumably he would level up if he got enough, but what did that even mean?

Wandering vaguely in the direction of Privet Drive, he posted up on a stone bench outside the local Catholic church. Like most of the buildings in the village, it was a fairly simple box of a structure, though large and made of a mix of red, brown, and tan bricks that would be attractive if any architectural features broke up the giant walls of fired clay. At least there probably wouldn't be anyone hurrying him on in the early afternoon of a summer Friday.

"Character sheet?" Harry tried. He was rewarded by another pane of virtual glass, this one full of information. The left of the pane explained:

[Harry Potter: Mage, Level 2 (+)

Agility 14

Body 8

Charisma 8

Finesse 11

Intelligence 9

Perception 12

Willpower 14

Hit Points 100

Endurance 96

Magical Stamina 240]

"Maybe… 8 is good and everything else is better?" he tried to lie to himself, realizing that it was way more likely that 10 was average and he was somewhat deficient in strength, charm, and smarts. At least it confirmed that he was quick and strong-willed. As he looked at his hit points, endurance, and magical stamina, pop-ups explained that they were derived from his body and level or willpower and level. It seemed like he hadn't improved his endurance playing quidditch as much as he'd thought, or his Body had been really low the previous year.

On the right, there were tabbed headings for General Skills, Class Skills, Special Abilities, and Reputation, with the default opened to:

[General Skills

Advanced English 4

Basic Athletics 4

Basic Computer Use 1

Basic Cooking 4

Basic Deception 3

Basic Drawing 1

Basic Gardening 3

Basic Locks 1

Basic Martial Arts 1

Basic Persuasion 1

Basic Sneak 4

Conversational French 1

Conversational English 20

Conversational Latin 1]

"I wonder if those fours are good, or if I just don't know much yet," he wondered. It would be really nice if he had anyone else to compare to. He looked at the next tab and got it to replace the general skills:

[Class Skills

Basic Broom Flying 6

OWL Charms 3

OWL Combat Magic 0

OWL Creature Handling 0

OWL Divination 0

OWL Enchanting 0

OWL Muggle Navigation 20

OWL Plant Defense 1

OWL Potions 2

OWL Spellcrafting 0

OWL Transfiguration 3

Seeker Broom Flying 3]

"I guess I did spend a lot more effort on flying than any of my other classes last year," Harry admitted to himself. "I wonder when we start learning combat magic. Do all of these upgrade after fifth year, or do I get new NEWT skills then?" He guessed that he was already a master of the OWL curriculum for the Muggle Studies elective, which might not be a good selling point for that class. "If I have Mage skills, I wonder if Dudley and Piers have special Bully skills."

[Special Abilities

Blood Protection

Curse-Scarred

Parselmouth

The Potter Hair

Wand Magic]

That list was fascinating. As Harry looked at the items, pop-ups appeared to briefly describe them.

Blood Protection explained, "You cannot be touched by Lord Voldemort, nor may his servants intrude upon your home." That about figured with what Dumbledore had shared after he'd burned Professor Quirrell to death with his hands.

Curse-Scarred unhelpfully said, "Scars can come in handy." In a video game, that would either mean it was unimportant flavor, or super-important story information that the game didn't want to reveal yet.

He didn't have any idea what Parselmouth might mean, and the explanation was actually very helpful, revealing, "You speak Parseltongue, the language of snakes. This is a rare gift, and mistrusted, for the most famous users have been dark wizards." Harry blinked at that, having assumed that every wizard could talk to snakes. It wasn't like there were many serpents in Great Britain to experiment with, especially in the north around Hogwarts.

The Potter Hair description about figured. "Many Potters famously have untameable hair. Fleamont Potter invented the Sleekeazy Hair Potion in an attempt to tame his own Potter hair."

Wand Magic simply provided, "Your ability to use magic with a wand allows you to take the Mage class."

Finally, Harry checked the fourth tab:

[Reputation

Death Eaters: Hated

Grunnings: Disliked

Gryffindor: Liked

Little Whinging: Troublemaker

Hogwarts Staff: Neutral

Hufflepuff: Neutral

Marauders: Loved

Order of the Phoenix: Loved

Ravenclaw: Neutral

Slytherin: Disliked

Wizarding Britain: Famous]

"What are the Marauders and Order of the Phoenix?" Harry wondered, seeing that two organizations he'd never heard of loved him. "And what are Death Eaters?" he considered, though assumed they must be related to Voldemort, since they hated him.

Idly flipping back and forth through the tabs, Harry considered it compared to what he already knew about RPG video games. It was possible that level did little more than increase his hit points and magical stamina, though he was willing to bet that it might provide some other benefits when he leveled up. It might just mean that higher-level wizards were able to use more magic, but he might be able to get his magical skills up faster than his level. How did he improve attributes? Could he get smarter? Could he get stronger and faster by doing more exercise, or were those basically fixed after character creation like in some games, and just influenced his skills? And was the 20 he had in English and Muggle Navigation the maximum? Could those go higher, or did they just generate an advanced skill at that point? What did high skills even mean?

Wait, what was that + symbol next to his level?

Upon considering it, a pop-up explained, "Two abilities left to choose." Oh. Did levels get him new special abilities? Why hadn't he spent the previous ones yet? Were there high-level people in the world just sitting on special powers they hadn't been able to spend?

What even was going on with his already complicated life?

Harry shrugged and willed the level-up menu to open. He was immediately presented with a huge list of options, some of them clearly unavailable because he didn't meet the requirements, but quite a few available for him to choose. It was pretty overwhelming.

Trying to take it all in, they mostly seemed to be divided into a few types. Some provided incremental bonuses, like, "Fast: Increase all movement speeds by 10%," or, "Quick Healer: Heal 10% faster and gain +10% benefit from healing magic." Both of those, in particular, were pretty appealing. Others seemed to focus on skill acquisition, like, "Defense Prodigy: Improve Combat Magic twice as fast," or, "Signature Spell: Choose a spell that you can use significantly more effectively." He could just take +3 to any of the attributes, which might be a really good option if he could determine if, for example, being smarter would let him learn everything faster. Finally, there were a few that seemed to add new arbitrary special abilities, like, "Fey: You can see magical auras and creatures invisible to other wizards and witches," and, "The Sight: You can gain actual information about the future with the Divination skills."

"Wait, do I only get one of these per year?" Harry whined. This was more stressful than choosing electives for the next year. Also, he guessed, if that last one was true, he should warn his friends away from bothering to take Divination as an elective if it didn't do anything without the Sight.

Annoyed, he willed the screens to close all the way out without selecting anything yet. "Focus, Harry," he told himself, as he began to walk back towards Privet Drive. "Maybe the world's just a video game and you're seeing behind the curtain. Maybe you played too many video games and your magic is trying to help you make sense of the real world, but it's not actually a game. Important thing: if that elf ruins dinner, you're locked up all summer."

He'd gone a couple of blocks before he realized that he needed to talk to Dobby, there was no way he could do that in the house without the Dursleys losing their minds, and there weren't too many safe places near the house. What did a house elf even look like? Harry just knew Dobby had giant eyes and seemed to be pretty short. He was basing a lot on the quest implying that the elf was trying to help in some way. Maybe Ron could figure out how to think about this like chess and come up with a strategy, but Harry's tactical acumen was pretty much limited to waiting for an opportunity to show up and then rocketing forward after it.

So treat Dobby like the snitch: move to clear skies, keep an eye out for bludgers, and pounce when you see your goal. Did that make any sense when it came to having a dangerous conversation with an unknown magical being? Maybe.

Clear skies: figure out how to move the conversation somewhere that muggles, especially the Dursleys, wouldn't see it. Bludgers: Harry couldn't assume that what he wanted to talk about was the only thing Dobby would want to talk about, and would need to dodge things he didn't want to deal with. Pounce: get Dobby to give him back his mail and then go away.

Simple. Right?

A small lane ran behind Number Four Privet drive, with greenery, a wooden wall, and the hedge there to keep out road noises and to prevent any drivers or neighbors seeing in. It had been one of the selling points of the house, that it didn't abut immediately to the back of another neighbor's garden. It made it a lot easier to keep the neighborhood from thinking about Harry Potter at all while he worked long hours tending the greenery. And it also meant that he could potentially get in touch with the elf and then move the conversation back to the undeveloped green space opposite the road.

Even in overdeveloped Little Whinging, it wouldn't be a British village without a narrow lane running through trees connecting the houses and the village proper.

"Dobby?" Harry asked, crouching down next to the wall behind Number Four. "Dobby, are you around here?"

"Harry Potter!" spoke a high-pitched voice from the other side of the wall, only to suddenly appear out of thin air next to Harry. The small creature had bat-like ears, a long nose, and was wearing nothing but a dirty pillowcase. The eyes were, indeed, bright green and nearly as big as tennis balls. "Harry Potter knows Dobby's name!"

Well, of course he did, it was right there over the creature's head. "Sure do," Harry nodded. "Can we go talk over in the wood? Statute of secrecy, you know?" He checked that a car wasn't coming, then waved the elf across the road.

"Harry Potter wishes to speak with Dobby! In private!" the creature trilled, but gamely followed Harry across the lane and a few meters into the treeline. Harry might wind up stepping in an anthill, but at least the neighbors were unlikely to notice his conversation with the magical being. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you sir… Such an honor it is…"

"Pleased to meet you, too," Harry said, though it was a bit of a lie. "I haven't met a house elf before."

"He's pleased to meet Dobby! Harry Potter is pleased!" the elf crowed, twisting one of his own ears with the emotion.

"Now Dobby…" Harry began, when the elf didn't seem to be getting to the point on his own, just continuing to mutter with the thrill of meeting a celebrity. He'd sort of gotten used to it after the weird meeting ceremony the previous year at the Leaky Cauldron when all the witches and wizards had gushed over him, but he didn't realize he was a rock star to elves as well. "I know you're here to help, right?"

"Dobby is! But how did Harry Potter know?"

"Fantastic wizard powers," Harry nodded. Then, as a bit of a demonstration and because he'd wanted to check, he opened his inventory and withdrew the leftover milkshake. Dobby didn't seem to notice the inventory pane and the milkshake was still cold, which was great. "Would you like the rest of my milkshake?"

The elf began to sob very noisy tears, "The great Harry Potter conjures food for Dobby, in contradiction of Gamp's laws! Such a mighty wizard he is!" Dobby couldn't even work up the effort to take the drink, so wracked was he by emotion. He finally choked out, "No wizard has ever offered Dobby anything."

"How many wizards have you known?" Harry checked. He'd never seen a creature like this out and about in Diagon Alley or around Hogwarts.

"Only Dobby's wizard family," the elf admitted.

"And they never share anything with you? Or treat you nicely?" Harry guessed.

The elf's eyes continued to leak and then he screwed up his face and yelled, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" and began to smash his forehead against a nearby tree.

"Don't– what are you doing?" Harry asked, putting the milkshake away again and grabbing the elf to keep him from killing himself against the tree. When he pulled the mad creature back, he thought he felt a mass of paper about the right size and shape to be his missing mail hidden within Dobby's pillowcase tunic. But he wasn't about to try to reach up under there and go grabbing.

"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," the elf explained, slightly cross-eyed. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir…"

The way Dobby had said his family was wizards, he was either adopted and treated very badly or… "Are you a wizarding family's servant?" Harry guessed.

He nodded, "Dobby cooks, cleans, and does anything else his family requires."

"But they don't know you're here, do they?"

"Oh, no, sir, no… Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir…"

Alright, Harry was trying to seem like he knew more than he did, so rather than just asking questions he needed to work it out. Dobby was clearly mistreated, and seemed to be ordered to punish himself, even for thinking badly of his, well, "owners" didn't seem like the wrong term. But he wasn't working for his family right now. And he was stealing Harry's mail and might ruin dinner tonight (though just showing up and being so loud might have been enough to do that, even unintentionally). Finally, Harry asked simply, "Can I have my mail back, please? Hand it to me and I'll trade you the milkshake?" He withdrew the treat back out of his inventory.

"Harry Potter knows that Dobby has his mail?" the elf said, surprised.

"Yeah. And I'd like it back. I'm already talking to my friends, but I'd prefer to have the letters they sent me. It's pretty mean to take them."

The elf sighed, offering the packet of envelopes from under his tunic and exchanging them for the milkshake. "Dobby had hoped that Harry Potter would think his friends had forgotten him… he might not want to go to school, sir." He somehow seemed to understand the purpose of a straw, and pulled noisily from the milkshake, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.

Harry swapped the letters back into his inventory where the elf wouldn't be able to take them again, and asked, "Why don't you want me to go back to Hogwarts?"

"Harry Potter is great," Dobby said around slurps, quickly emptying the milkshake with one loud final scouring suck at the straw. "Too good to lose. He must stay where he is safe. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger!"

At Dobby's pronouncement, a new quest appeared:

[THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS (MAIN QUEST)

Dark conspiracies are afoot at Hogwarts.

O Get to Hogwarts]