Hogwarts : leveling up the world

Morning, August 10th.

On the bank of a river, shielded by a small slope, lies the body of a teenager, around 13 or 14 years old. From a distance, it might seem like a lifeless body, but upon closer inspection, one can notice the chest slowly rising and falling.

As if refusing to succumb to death, the teenager coughed up the water that had accumulated in his lungs and wheezed.

"Cough-cough!"

Spitting out all the water that had filled his lungs, the teenager took some time to regain his senses, breathing heavily.

"Inhale, exhale."

After some time, the boy raised his head. His eyes were brown, but they flashed red as he glanced around.

Clearly perplexed, the boy carefully and cautiously surveyed his surroundings.

Once he made sure that there was no one or nothing around that could pose a threat, the boy began to inspect his entire body.

"What...? Nonsense, why am I so small...?"

Upon examining his body, the boy quickly noticed that his height had drastically decreased, and his body size did not match his age.

Before attempting to make sense of the situation, he was hit by a sharp pain in his left shoulder.

"Exhale."

He turned his head to the right and saw a sharp stone spike protruding from his shoulder, and a deep cut on his left forearm.

"It's deep. Need to remove the shard and cauterize the wound."

The boy gritted his teeth and, before treating the wound, decided to make sure these were the only external injuries.

After inspecting his body a few more times and probing the vulnerable spots with his right hand, he was now certain that only the left side had been injured, with the rest of his body sustaining bruises.

Using his right hand for support, the boy pulled himself up so he could better examine the wound on his forearm and shoulder.

Ensuring that no arterial blood was spurting from the wound and there was no significant bleeding, he began to feel for broken bones.

"Clavicle intact... Joints damaged but not broken... Just need to remove the tip, and I can cauterize."

Once he determined his course of action, he began counting in his mind.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

On the count of three, he began to extract the stone spike from the wound, cautiously and slowly, as the stone surface was uneven and had many jagged edges that could snag on the flesh.

Pulling it out too quickly could cause more harm than good.

Carefully, centimeter by centimeter, the boy managed to extract the stone shard, resembling the tip of a spear, from his shoulder.

After removing it, he set it aside.

"Ah, it stings!"

The boy gritted his teeth as he felt the spring breeze blow over his wound.

Double-checking the integrity of his bones and ensuring the shard hadn't hit an artery, he thought to himself,

"Need to cauterize quickly, but most importantly, not too deep to avoid blood clotting in the veins..."

So, raising his right hand, from which steam was already emanating, and applying it to the wound on his shoulder, a series of small explosions ensued, cauterizing the wound.

"Ugh!"

Groans escaped from the teenager's throat, but he managed to contain them. Removing his hand, he inspected his wound.

"That will do..."

Having dealt with the wound on his shoulder, he turned his attention to his forearm.

"Clean it, nothing more needed..."

He decided that cauterizing the cuts was unnecessary since they were shallow, but cleaning the wound was essential. So, leaning on his right arm, he lifted himself up and limped towards the river.

"Aching legs..." he thought as he washed the wound on his forearm.

After finishing rinsing the wound, he removed what remained of his clothes and began to wash them. They consisted of a brown shirt, a black leather vest, and light brown pants.

While cleaning his clothes, he noticed a hole in the shirt and the vest.

"Darn, I liked this vest..."

Once he finished rinsing his clothes, he found a couple of sticks nearby, stuck them into the ground, and hung his clothes on them. Clearly, the clothes were intended for someone much larger than he was now.

Inspecting the surroundings and not seeing anyone, he raised his right hand, and orange flames appeared at its tip. Gradually, he moved his flaming hand around the clothes, not close enough to ignite them but enough to dry them. After half an hour, he finally dried his clothes. He had managed to somewhat conceal the hole in the leather vest by slightly shrinking the leather and fabric with the flames. Although the clothes were still ill-fitting, at least the leather vest no longer had spear holes.

To adjust the size of the clothes, he rolled up the sleeves and pant legs, and tucked the bottom of the shirt into his pants.

Once dressed, he cautiously made his way up the hill, scanning his surroundings. But when he reached the top and saw the typical English village, he was somewhat bewildered.

"Europe...? Or... England...? This definitely isn't the territory of the Earth Kingdom, and apparently not even the same world..."

Observing the sun, which had reached its peak and would soon set, the teenager muttered, "First, I need to find a place to rest."

Feeling very tired, he began to look around for a possible place to spend the night.

After some time, he spotted an old pigsty with boarded-up windows, located far from the village and close to the water. Without much thought, he headed there.

Approaching it, he leaned against the door to listen for any movement inside, but the door was unlocked, and he almost fell.

When the door opened, he saw that the pigsty had clearly been abandoned for a long time, and no one visited here. There was plenty of dust, cobwebs, and old hay on the floor.

"Well, if there's hay, at least I won't be sleeping on the ground..."

The teenager was so exhausted that he instantly fell asleep. Fortunately, due to the pigsty being long abandoned and far from the rest of the village, the night passed very peacefully.

He woke up the next morning. Getting up, he cautiously stretched his stiff joints, checked his recently cauterized wound, and headed to the river to wash up.

After drying off and getting dressed again, he thought, "I need to find something to eat and learn about this world." Feeling the golden coins in his pocket, similar to Japanese yen, he realized that he needed to exchange them for local currency first. In any case, gold was valued everywhere, but the problem with his age was that he needed a guardian or an elder to exchange money at this age.

The village appeared ancient at first glance, and if the time he found himself in was a time when the village was built, there wouldn't be such problems. But he clearly noticed some cars passing by on nearby roads.

Doubting that he could find a currency exchange or gold in a remote village, he decided to first make his way to a city, a big city. With his skills, he could at least take out a couple of bandits and get their money to rent accommodation and buy food.

The teenager headed towards the center of the village — a small square paved with stone. Some passersby paid attention to him.

Understandably so, in a village with only a few dozen houses, he was dressed strangely, and no one knew him from the locals.

Walking through the square, he noticed a road leading to a small train station. He assumed there might be an information bureau there and headed in that direction.

Arriving at the station, he noticed the information bureau and the station name: "Risby Station."

"Now I know I'm in England, but it doesn't seem like the England of my first world; rather, it's England of the 70s-90s of the 20th century," the teenager pondered. Although he could already determine this thanks to the language spoken by the locals.

Approaching the information desk, where a woman in her fifties sat, he spoke in impeccable British English - in his first life, he spent a lot of time in England through exchange programs. He should be able to blend in with the local population.

"Good day, may I ask where I am and how far I am from London?"

At first not understanding who was addressing her, the woman stood up and saw the 13-year-old child.

"Are you alone, boy? Where are your parents? London is far from here, did you get on the wrong train?"

Initially thrown off by the accent and realizing that his English wasn't as good as it was 20 years ago..., it took him some time to gather his thoughts and say,

"Sorry, miss. I don't know how I ended up here. My name is..."

Before revealing his name, he fell silent.

'Hmm,' he thought, 'not sure about the reaction to my surname and whether it's worth mentioning... In my first life, my name and surname only brought troubles...'

"Child, do you not remember your name?"

After thinking about the possible actions this woman would take upon hearing his name, he spoke: "My name is Asmodeus Morningstar! That's all I remember... I seem to have amnesia."

To some, this name, especially with such a surname, might seem foolish and funny, but this name had been with him through two worlds, and he wasn't going to abandon it because of possible attacks from church idiots.

Although he doubted that a surname like "Morningstar" would be noticed in this world... He had already been in one world where this surname meant something, and also in a world where this surname was just considered strange but didn't mean anything significant.

But most importantly, he sensed something in the air of this world that, in his opinion, decreased the likelihood of biased treatment towards him because of his surname.

In such contemplations, Asmodeus came to the conclusion that the answer he gave was the best available to him since he definitely didn't have any relatives in England in the 90s, and he was sure that no one knew him in this new world.

The thing he felt in the air was mana, energy, what he manipulated to summon fire earlier, and in his first life, it wasn't there, or he didn't feel it...

"Oh, poor child. Come, dear, I'll take you to the police station; they will help you there," said the woman behind the counter.

Initially relieved that there was no reaction to his surname, Asmodeus pondered the possibilities in this world. Perhaps this surname doesn't exist in this world, like in the second world where he lived? Who knows, the multiverse is infinite.

Realizing there was nothing to worry about, Asmodeus asked, "Miss, what's about your job?"

She replied, laughing, "Ha-ha, don't worry. You're the first person to approach me in the last three weeks. Come on, your situation is much more important than the potential arrival of one person to ask when the next train is, especially since there's a departure board for that."

After half an hour, Asmodeus found himself at the local police station, patiently waiting for Mrs. Peggins to explain his situation to the police officer.

When the officer approached, Asmodeus stood up. The middle-aged man said, "Hey, kid, let's go to my office and talk. I think we can help you."

In the office, repeating his story about amnesia, Asmodeus watched the attentive police officer and waited patiently. After a couple of minutes, the man stood up and said:

"Alright. I'll get in touch with the London police station. I think they'll take you in and try to find you shelter. Hopefully, your parents will find you soon..."

Expressing his gratitude, Asmodeus was given temporary accommodation at the police station. Within a week, he was living in St. Mary's, a well-funded state orphanage. There, he decided to hide his magical abilities, keeping a low profile and contemplating his next steps.

He understood that this world where people could use magic, thanks to the mana in the air, and until he figured out how things really stood, he wouldn't reveal his powers.

Meanwhile, at Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall briskly walked towards the Headmaster's office. Approaching the gargoyle guard, she said, "Exploding bonbons."

The password proved correct, and the passage before her opened.

Entering the office and seeing Dumbledore, she exclaimed loudly, "Albus! We have a problem!"

Albus Dumbledore, who was smiling as he drank tea, asked, "Lower your voice, Minerva. What is it? Why all the fuss?"

"The admission book! I was checking the admission book before finalizing the student intake for this year, and I saw a new name!"

"And? So what? Maybe someone just awakened their magic late. Why worry so much?"

"Albus, the book indicates that he's almost 13 years old!"

"??? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have come to you!"

"Alright, alright, calm down. What's the name of this child?"

"Asmodeus Noren Morningstar," she said.

"What an interesting name," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "isn't it?"

"Alright, Minerva, don't worry. Send him a letter, and I'll personally go visit him when he responds."