Magnus Webb undergoes a tragedy right as he enters the wizarding world. In his quest for revenge he becomes involved in a conspiracy that’s centuries in the making. As if all of this isn’t confusing enough, why is this Dark Lord guy always interfering with his plans? The story has a slow start and will pick up as it goes on. The 'system' elements aren't heavy here. The content will get mature as the story progresses. PS: I don't possess the rights to Harry Potter and English isn't my native language.
In a deep forest far away from the civilization, there was a cabin situated in a large clearing. A faint light seemed to flicker from within the closed windows of the cabin. The cold wind blowing through the grass in front of the cabin carried faint whispers that would chill the living. Inside the cabin was a room illuminated by flickering candles and silvery moonlight. Right where the moonlight shone was a huge cauldron bubbling with an unknown liquid.
"…bones of the warriors, unknowingly taken…"
"…blood of the beasts, unwillingly given…"
"…eyes of the scholar, unwittingly olden"
"…flesh of the changeling, greed forsaken…"
"…soul of the lost, early unladen…"
The creepy chant rang in the room in a raspy voice full of madness and zeal. The darkness made it difficult to witness the owner of the voice. With the onset of the chanting a strange chill filled the air, yet the words continued abated.
"Rise my brave warrior…"
"Rise my wise scholar…"
"Rise my loving husband…"
'What happened? What it this place? What's all this creepy chanting? Is this a bathtub? Loving husband? Bloody hell!' thought the being.
As the chanting became faster and frenetic, so too did the thoughts of the being in the 'bathtub'. The words agitated the bubbling cauldron and a deep darkness covered the room. Just as a hair-raising laughter filled the air, a hand broke through the surface of the liquid in the cauldron. As if beckoned, a bolt of lightning struck the cauldron and the world went up in flames.