The Red Haired Witch

The sight of the Hogwarts Express was far more breathtaking than I had imagined. The charm of the magical locomotive in person far surpassed what I remembered from my former life's cinematic experience, feeding a dormant longing in me to board this exact train, not the cinematic replica.

"Look! The Potters have arrived!"

"Mum, do you think they'd give us autographs?"

The chorus of whispers and excited chatter instantly disrupted my tranquil moment, all thanks to the arrival of the supposedly infamous Harry Potter, my alleged sibling. It was an odd sight, really, to see him sans the trademark round glasses and lightning bolt scar. His face strangely resembling Daniel Radcliffe's.

"Excuse me, are you a Muggleborn?" A young girl timidly poked my arm. Turning to face her, I noticed a surprised expression flicker across her face before she swiftly turned to gaze at the gathering crowd around the Potters and me.

"Yeah, what's up?" I responded, trying to pull her attention back from the crowd.

A flustered expression crossed her face. "Oh, not possible… Ahem… I-I mean yes. I can't manage to lift my luggage; could you assist me?" Scanning our surroundings for any potential guardians, her worn-out attire led me to assume she might be an orphan.

"No problem. Just give me a moment." I replied, my attention stolen by the sight of a woman with fiery red hair and captivating emerald eyes, my favored hue, making her way through the crowd.

'So… is that my mother?' The thought couldn't help but surface. My rational side knew better, yet the part of me that had been subjected to an abusive childhood yearned for a reality where Lily Potter was alive and possibly, my mother. These same thoughts were the seeds of my agony, the painful reminders of what could have been.

A gentle poke on my shoulder pulled me back to reality. "Ahem… The train is about to leave…" She nudged me again, pulling me back from my reverie.

"Alright then, let's get moving. We'd better find a compartment before they fill up." Hoisting her massive luggage effortlessly, a perk from my recent transformation, I headed towards the train.

"So, what's your name?" I asked as we finally settled down in an empty compartment, the rhythmic chugging of the train marking the start of our journey.

"You can call me Zee," she responded confidently. "And what should I call you?"

Hesitant, I debated whether to give her my real name. Ever since my second Hogwarts letter bore the name "Timothy" instead of Timothy Potter, I suspected my disownment from the Potter clan, thus, I simply replied, "Hunter."

"Hm." Zee hummed, her interest piqued by the book in my hands. "What are you reading?"

"The Standard Book of Spells."

She blinked, her sapphire eyes widening in surprise when she noticed the "Grade 2" print. "That's quite an advanced book for a first year. Could you show me the wand movement for the Fire-Making Charm?"

Summoning my wand, a mysterious black stick, I traced the pattern of a leaf in the air and voiced, "Incendio."

The flames danced from the wand, but Zee's reaction was not as I expected. She was not surprised at my successful execution of the spell, but instead, she fixated on my wand, her gaze unblinking.

"May I ask… what kind of wand are you using?" Zee finally inquired, despite knowing it was impolite. A wizard's wand could often reveal much about their personality and talents.

"Nuh-uh!" I playfully retorted, emphasizing the "uh," as I shook my head, waggling a finger at her.

A little crestfallen, Zee switched topics. "How much of the first-year syllabus have you covered?"

"Actually, I've only really tackled the Charms and Transfiguration books. The rest are untouched." After all, having just obtained the books and being placed in a foster home, studying wasn't really feasible.

"Hope you don't catch Professor Snape's attention then. He has a knack for surprising students with pop quizzes on the first day, usually covering the first few chapters. I'd suggest familiarizing yourself with the potion ingredients and their descriptions as soon as possible," Zee advised, a mischievous wink playing on her face.

Curious, I asked, "What year are you in?"

Her reaction was unexpected, yet endearing. She struck a dramatic victory pose, complete with a head tilt and twinkling eyes.

"Back at the station, what was all the fuss about?" I questioned, eager to understand the scene that had unfolded earlier.

Zee scrunched her nose at the question but, after a glance at my attire, she gave in. "The short version is that a Dark Lord had been spreading terror across our world. On Halloween, he targeted the Pureblood Potters. The details are murky, but somehow, he cast the Killing Curse on the Potter heir, and it rebounded. The boy survived, earning him the title, 'Boy-Who-Lived.'"

Her explanation fit my own understanding of the canon timeline. But her next words had me confused, prompting me to ask, "What did you say?"

"I said, 'I don't believe that's the entire truth.'" She repeated. "There are whispers… whispers that the 'Boy-Who-Lived' had a brother, or a sister, who took the curse head-on to save him. However, these rumors were quickly debunked by Professor Dumbledore himself."

Was she talking about me? My hand subconsciously drifted to my forehead, feeling the smooth skin instead of a scar. It seemed completely healed, along with my eyesight.

But something was indeed different – two distinct bumps were forming on my forehead, not the typical bumps from a head injury. They were rock solid, almost as if there was bone inside.

"But why do you still believe those rumors might hold some truth, even after Dumbledore refuted them?"

"Well..." She paused, a teasing smile gracing her lips as she continued, "A girl can't give away all her secrets now, can she?"

Unimpressed, I presented her a stone-faced expression. Closing my eyes, I started to recall my conversation in the hospital.

< Flash Back >

'I can't keep calling you Great Sage. Can I name you?'

{Not recommended. Naming me only would cause further harm to the Host.} The system replied, killing my hope of further evolving the skill.

'I see… Then you can call me by my name, you don't have to call me Host.

{Name registered. Greeting 'Timothy'.}

I smiled, the excitement bubbling within. 'What happened after I lost consciousness? How did I go from being a squib to a wizard?'

{Sensing Host is in danger, Counter Mode activated. However, with the host under the process of mutation the Unique Skill "Demon Lord's Haki" activated causing the whole house to crash down, resulting in the death of three individuals - Vernon, Dudley, and Petunia.

In response to Timothy's question. Great Sage analyzed and found Host was never a squib but a 'late bloomer.' The "Homo sapiens" element was removed from Timothy's original species, a hybrid of "Homo sapiens-Magi," transforming Timothy into a "Majin," a unique creature composed entirely of magicules. Does this answer Timothy's question?}

I stood frozen, struggling to comprehend my new reality. How could I digest the fact that I was no longer human?

'I-I see… Is it possible to show me my status, like in a video game?'

{Affirmative.

Timothy - D Rank

Species: Lesser Majin/Lesser Demon

Title: Timothy-Who?

Age: 14 (+26) (+???)

Unique Skills: <Great Sage> <Heartless(Deactivated)>

Extra Skills: <Thought Acceleration> <Analytical Appraisal> <All of Creation> <Chant Annulment> <Demon's Haki> <Material Creation> <Possession>

Common Skills: <Parseltongue> <Magic Sense> <Magic Resistance>}