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I Might be a Fake Wizard

In one of the various universes, Harry Evans finds himself in trouble. An accident at the Quidditch World Cup leads him to the forest and rescue a pair of damsels in distress. Curse his Gryffindor tendency, his meddling costs him his life. But can you call it death when you wake up a new person with a different set of memories? --- This fiction is based on an Alternate Universe. Expect different concepts and interpretations, deviations, and character's non-canon behaviours.

Frona_Gorgophone · หนังสือและวรรณกรรม
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39 Chs

From A Dying Ember

7 Advanced chapters on Patreon: Fiction Haven

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For as long as Harry Evans could remember, he only had the Dursleys to call a family, undeserving as they were. He wouldn't say the family was abusive, but they sure were unqualified to be called one. Harry had quite a romantic view of family. It was supposed to provide him warmth and safety, which he didn't get.

He supposed saying he didn't get safety from the Dursleys would be wrong. He had never been bothered by the wrong people. The Dursleys had never been protective of him but would help him get out of trouble, albeit begrudgingly. It was that kind of attitude that made him feel weary. A couple of years of living was enough to let him know he was unwanted.

Harry was fine with that. It was quite heart-wrenching to know that he could never feel familial love, but at least he would be safe. Everything changed when he turned eleven and received the invitation letter to Hogwarts. The existence of Wizards and Witches made him wary. Suddenly, he didn't feel safe any longer.

Fortunately for him, someone came to the Privet Drive and offered him protection. It was the day he met one, eccentric Bellatrix Black. The single woman was obsessed with Magic and duelling. She was shite at caretaking. All her fun was deadly. However, despite all of that, she was a great company. He felt the closest thing to familial warmth from her.

He thought it was enough. That was until he entered the wizarding world. He was ecstatic about learning Magic. He was even more ecstatic to find out he had a decent talent over it. A little bit of hard work put him in the top three of his year. Life couldn't get any better, he thought. However, his research, fuelled by his curiosity, seeped all of the happiness from his body.

Britain's Strongest Wizarding Family

Minister of Magic, James Potter, his wife Lily Potter, and his son Charlus Potter

He was in his second year when he found out the Potter couple eerily resembled his long-gone parents, although what he knew about his parents were only names and not their looks. His caretaker, whom he endearingly called Bella, had informed him that his parents were murdered by a Dark Lord some time ago. Coincidentally, the Potter couple were almost killed by a Dark Lord too.

A short investigation revealed to him that Potter's wife, Lily, used to be Evans before being married to the Minister. Denials raged, making him refuse to believe. Bella also didn't say anything, so he thought it was a funny coincidence. That was until Charlus Potter entered Hogwarts and the story of the Boy Who Lived circulated madly again.

Bella also decided to reveal the truth to him the very same night. It was about how her cousin, Sirius, who was taking care of him and his brother defended them from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, thus losing his life. His parents, James and Lily, out of the house at that time, were also attacked by the Dark Lord's cronies but managed to survive. They came home to find Sirius dead, Harry fainting on the ground, and Charlus chuckling while looking at Lord Voldemort's robe.

The legend of the Boy Who Lived began that way. However, that still didn't explain why his parents left him to his unloving relatives. Bella seemed to know the reason but didn't tell him. He refused to talk to her for weeks because of that, but they eventually made up. The hurdle made their bonds even stronger.

A year passed and he was content not making any contact with his famous sibling. Having lived years of lonesome and bitter life quickly made him accept that his family was a lost cause. He had Bella, anyway. It was fine. Then, at the end of his Third Year, his parents brazenly came to visit him with his brother, acting like nothing happened.

That was the first time he got mad. His 'it is what it is' attitude failed him that day. All sorts of witty insults and shearing curses barraged his parents that day. They were naturally offended. Unintentionally, while justifying their cause, the truth of his abandonment came out. Because of a damned prophecy, his damned parents abandoned him.

There can only be one boy who lives to defeat He-Who-Embodies-Darkness. Should another live, a distance is what you should seek. For the being who ends all shall never be notified. Whoever his eyes lay upon, death shall pluck him from the cycle.

His parents, believing Charlus to be the Boy Who Lived, separated him from the family in fear of losing Charlus to death. It was absurd. However, nothing was logical in the magical world. The fact that his parents believed in a prophecy was not that ridiculous, considering Voldemort, one the most brilliant Wizards of all time, also believed in that crap.

"Are you done brooding?"

Harry stopped the recollection of his absurd life at Bella's words. A faint snort escaped him. He denied doing that. Although, admittedly, his mood fouled thanks to the presence of his family. The only thing holding him off from Portkeying to their house was his love for Quidditch and the fact that his family's tent was far away from him. He couldn't let his family rob him of his enjoyment of the Quidditch World Cup finals.

It was admittedly hard, but his bet against Bulgaria seemed to suffice to be a consolation prize. After all, he was sure Ireland would win the match. The event proceeded quickly. He was accompanied by Bella, sitting far away from his family after repeatedly refusing his mother's ceaseless invitation. A flash of pity would appear on his face every time he saw his mother's sad face, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. It would take some time for his hardened heart to soften.

The match ended exactly as he had predicted. Ireland won the match despite Bulgaria's Seeker, Viktor Krum's splendid job at catching the Snitch. Harry was eager to Portkey home, but Bella was suddenly summoned thanks to her job as the Head Auror. He didn't want to leave her behind, even if she had told him to, so he waited.

In the blink of an eye, a mayhem occurred. Tents were being burned, people screaming in panic, and muggles were being tortured. Things were escalating so quickly that it flustered Harry. He managed to regain his bearings quickly. His mind went overdrive and led him to run to the nearby forest, away from the chaos happening in the camp.

"Just great! Am I not allowed to enjoy my 2,000 galleons winning?" he grumbled as he ran.

He decided to wait for Bella in the forest. He swore not to get himself involved with troubles anymore. He had enough of that from his reckless brother's adventures with his friends. He was almost killed by a Basilisk in his Fifth Year, for cripes sake! He had killed the bloody creature, but his brother had taken the credit in exchange for hiding his secret of being a Parselmouth.

He regretted that a bit as his brother had been rewarded with a considerable amount of money but didn't dwell on it too much. The last thing he needed was people thinking he was a Dark Wizard. As a mirthless chuckle escaped his mouth at the thought, his hair stood on end. He could tell a fight was happening nearby.

Grimacing lightly, Harry took out his wand. Silently traversing through the forest, he soon encountered two cornered girls. The three cloaked men were obvious in their intention to kill the girls. Harry's grimace deepened. He had promised not to bet on his life, but his stomach trembled at the mere thought of leaving the girls.

"Bloody hell! Bella is going to kill me, surely."

Stepping out from behind the tree, Harry cast a quiet cutting curse at one of the men. He winced as the man's arm fell. As the disarmed man shrieked in pain, the other two turned their attention to him. They hurled spells at him which he blocked with a shield. He intended to give time to the girls to escape, so when they were frozen stiff, he was quite disgruntled.

"Leave! I am not risking my life for you to die vainly."

The girls made a move. Just as he was about to do the same, his shield wavered. A gouging spell hit him in the stomach, making his eyes widen in pain. Before he could spit out the blood quickly accumulating in his mouth, a green beam came at him.

"Avada Kedavra!"

He attempted to duck but was too late. The Killing Curse hit him on his forehead. A bright green light filled his vision before darkness overwhelmed him. Harry Evans (Potter) ceased to exist. However, in the wake of the dying ember, something took over. The dying body flickered back to life.