Young Celestial Wizard [Celestial Grimoire, Harry Potter]

The night was still in Godric's Hollow as Voldemort walked through the Potter home. James Potter, caught wandless, fell quickly to a flash of green light. Upstairs, Lily Potter stood between her son and the Dark Lord, her voice breaking as she begged.

"Please, not Harry! Take me instead!"

Voldemort's lip curled in disdain. "Stand aside, you silly girl."

"No, please! Have mercy!" Tears streamed down Lily's face as she spread her arms wide, shielding the crib behind her.

Voldemort raised his wand, annoyance flickering across his serpentine features. "Avada Kedavra!"

The green light rushed forward. In her final moment, Lily's eyes widened at something beyond Voldemort's shoulder before she crumpled to the floor.

Looking down at the toddler, Voldemort frowned. This small creature was supposed to be his prophesied downfall? Better to eliminate any threat now, no matter how insignificant it seemed.

"Avada Kedavra," he spoke again, but this time something unexpected happened. A mirror materialized from nowhere, catching the curse and sending it hurtling back toward its caster. Voldemort had no time to react before his own spell struck him.

His body fell, and from it rose a dark wraith that lingered only briefly before fleeing into the night.

The silence that followed was broken only by Harry's cries until a figure appeared soundlessly in the room. He could have been Harry Potter grown to adulthood – the same untidy black hair, the same brilliant green eyes. On the back of his hand was a curious symbol: a triangle containing a circle, bisected by a vertical line.

The man watched the retreating wraith with contempt before turning to the crying child.

"An unfulfilled prophecy... it could be a good source of power in the future," he whispered. From his robes, he drew an unusual wand, its shaft smooth and unadorned, its handle formed by two joined spheres. With a casual wave, he vanished.

Moments after his departure, a deep blue light fell upon the toddler. Harry's cries subsided as the light covered him, sinking into his skin. His green eyes flickered darker three times before he drifted into a long and peaceful sleep.

[Ironclaw Cunning - MtG - Homelands] – Free Roll

The Ironclaw Orcs were one of the greatest orcish bands in Dominaria, as they were magically bound by their camp-wizards never to attack any force stronger than themselves. While most warring cultures viewed this as a detriment, this curse was what made the Ironclaw clan one of the strongest and most successful orcish clans in known history. They never fought battles they couldn't win, and never fought for hopeless causes.

While you aren't bound by their curse, you do share the cunning of the Ironclaw. Thanks to this, you'll always know when you can or can't defeat someone. You'll never underestimate your opponents, and know when it would be best to carefully pull back and make plans for another day. You've also become pretty good at that, taking note of the opposing force's strength and figuring out ways in which you could still win against them

[Nutrition - The Witcher Novels] – Free Roll

In these times famine is a real danger and many people spend long exhausting time at work just to keep themselves fed. Food is bland for the poor, and what they eat depends on the time of the year and their location. Only the rich and powerful can allow themselves diversity and delicacies like catoblepas meat. Before you start to rage at the world for lacking fast food chains know that now that while you may not enjoy taste of your food it is much more filling for you, as you need very little to sustain yourself. Only one or two good meals a week will suffice for a balanced diet for your person. Though do your best not to unveil this before others, as many starve on what keeps you thriving.

[Animagus - Harry Potter] – Free Roll

You are an Animagus, allowing you to change into an animal at will. You may choose any non-magic animal as your alternate form.

oo0ooOoo0oo

Harry woke up to the rumble of an engine and the whistle of wind. He was flying through the dark sky on a motorcycle, secured next to a giant of a man who was crying softly.

"Poor James an' Lily," Hagrid sniffled, wiping his eyes with a tablecloth-sized handkerchief.

The sight of the enormous man sent Harry into immediate panic. Tears welled up in his eyes as he began to wail. This person was far too big, far too scary!

"There, there, Harry," Hagrid tried to comfort him, his voice wobbling. "We're goin' to see Professor Dumbledore. He'll know what ter do..."

When Hagrid reached to pat his back, Harry's crying intensified. Something deep inside told him this giant could crush him without effort. The toddler squirmed desperately, trying to escape the gentle but firm grip.

Seeing Harry's distress, Hagrid carefully placed him back in the motorcycle's sidecar, fretting over what to do with the distraught child.

Suddenly, Harry felt something shift within him – a way out! His tiny body twisted and changed, and within moments, a small Golden Eagle sat where the toddler had been. The young bird let out harsh croaks, wriggling free of the confining blankets.

Hagrid turned at the strange sound and his jaw dropped as he watched the eagle that was definitely not a baby boy mere seconds ago. Before he could react, Harry spread his wings and leaped from the motorcycle.

"Harry!" Hagrid shouted, frantically searching the blankets before reality caught up with him. "Blimey, that eagle is 'arry!"

High-pitched whistles echoed through the night as Harry plummeted through the air. The ground rushed up to meet him, lights from the small town below growing larger by the second. Pure terror gripped him as he tumbled, unable to process what was happening.

Just before he would have hit the roof of a house, something clicked. Deep, instinctual knowledge flooded through him, and he spread his wings wide. The wind caught beneath them, turning his fall into a wobbly glide. He let out a surprised chirp as he swooped past a chimney, nearly crashing into it.

Banking left, then right, Harry started to get a feel for his new form. Each movement became more natural, though still clumsy. He dipped between houses, his small size letting him squeeze through gaps that Hagrid's motorcycle couldn't follow.

"Come back, Harry!" Hagrid's voice boomed from somewhere above, making Harry duck lower over the rooftops.

The young eagle darted down a narrow alley, gliding over a quiet street lined with parked cars. His wings were getting tired - flying was hard work for a young bird who'd never done it before. He spotted a tall tree in someone's front garden and aimed for it, almost crashing into the branches before managing to perch.

Harry caught his breath, puffing up his feathers against the cold. The scary giant was gone! He let out a triumphant little squeak, feeling very pleased with himself.

The victory lasted only moments. The rumbling of the motorcycle grew louder again as Hagrid circled back, having spotted Harry's golden feathers gleaming under a streetlight. Harry took off in a panic, but his tired wings couldn't carry him as fast as before.

"Got no choice," Hagrid muttered, pulling out his pink umbrella while steering with his other hand. "Stupefy!"

A red light shot past Harry, missing by inches. He tried diving between two houses, but his exhausted wings finally gave out. He started to fall once more, and this time Hagrid's next spell caught him square in the back.

The world went still, and Harry felt himself being gently scooped up by those enormous hands. Despite his fear, they were surprisingly careful and warm.

"There now," Hagrid said softly, cradling the frozen eagle against his coat. "Let's get yeh somewhere safe, shall we? Though Professor Dumbledore's never gonna believe this one..."

oo0ooOoo0oo

Dumbledore and McGonagall paused their conversation about the Dursleys as the rumble of an engine grew louder. A motorcycle descended from the cloudy sky, landing with a gentle thud on Privet Drive. Hagrid's large form dismounted, still cradling something carefully in his arms.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir. Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said shakily. "We, er, had a bit of trouble on the way."

"What kind of trouble, Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked, stepping closer. "Is Harry safe?"

McGonagall moved forward as well, her eyes widening as she spotted not a baby, but a small, stunned golden eagle in Hagrid's hands.

"Well, yeh see..." Hagrid shifted uncomfortably. "Little Harry here, he got scared of me size, I reckon. Started cryin' something awful. Then..." He gestured helplessly at the eagle. "He just changed! Right there in the sidecar! Flew off before I could stop him."

"Impossible," McGonagall breathed. "An Animagus transformation? At his age?"

"Had to stun him to catch him again," Hagrid continued apologetically. "Poor little thing was exhausted from flying anyway."

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, examining the unconscious eagle. "Most unusual. I've never heard of such a thing. Perhaps a new bloodline gift? He is related to the Blacks and they're known for their Metamorphmagus gift, though this is something different…" He raised his wand. "Hominus Reverto."

The yellow spell hit the eagle, and within moments, a sleeping toddler lay in Hagrid's arms instead. Harry's face was peaceful now, showing no signs of his earlier distress.

McGonagall frowned and kept her eyes fixed on the sleeping child. "Albus, bloodline abilities don't simply appear from nowhere. The Potters have never shown such gifts, and while the Blacks have their metamorphs..."

"Indeed," Dumbledore nodded, "yet I confess I'm at a loss to explain this development."

McGonagall's gaze shifted between Harry and Number Four, Privet Drive. Suddenly, her expression brightened. "Albus, surely you see we can't leave him here now? The entire wizarding world is celebrating 'The Boy Who Lived,' and he's apparently an… innate Animagus! How could Muggles possibly handle this? He could transform and fly away at any moment!"

Dumbledore remained silent as McGonagall continued with her voice rising with each word. "I've watched these people all day, Albus. They're the worst sort of Muggles! Their son was kicking his mother down the street, screaming for sweets. And that husband - I've never seen anyone more opposed to imagination or anything unusual."

"Minerva..." Dumbledore started, but she continued ranting.

"They'd panic at the first sign of accidental magic, let alone an animal transformation! What happens when young Harry gets upset and suddenly there's an eagle flying around their house?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard, deep in thought. The blood wards would provide the strongest protection, but if Harry's new ability meant he could simply fly away... The risks might outweigh the benefits.

"You make valid points, Minerva," he sighed heavily. "But we must consider Harry's safety above all else. Death Eaters are still at large, seeking revenge. Even if we find someone trustworthy, can they truly protect him?"

"Er, beggin' yer pardon," Hagrid shifted the sleeping toddler in his arms, "but why not keep little Harry at Hogwarts? Safest place there is, innit?"

McGonagall turned to Hagrid with a weary expression. "A child needs more than safety, Hagrid. He needs a family, proper care, and attention. Who would raise him at Hogwarts? We're all teachers with responsibilities, not nursemaids."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said slowly, "we have no better options at the moment." He adjusted his half-moon spectacles and looked at Harry's peaceful face. "The castle is indeed one of the safest places in Britain, and while I don't mean to sound presumptuous, few would dare attempt harm with me nearby."

"Albus, you can't seriously be suggesting-"

"It's temporary, Minerva," Dumbledore raised a hand to calm her protests. "We'll need to find a more permanent solution, but for now, Hogwarts can provide both safety and the space for young Harry to learn control over his Animagus transformation. Better that than risk exposure in the Muggle world or make him an easy target elsewhere."

McGonagall pressed her lips together, clearly wanting to argue further but unable to deny the logic. "And who will look after him day to day?"

"I believe," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "we have a staff meeting to call first thing tomorrow morning. With the house-elves' assistance and a careful schedule, we can arrange suitable care for young Harry without overburdening anyone. The castle has raised many children over the centuries - it knows how to adapt."