Chapter 61

Several water spikes rose out of the water and skewered the gigantic creature's head. And then Harry let rip a massive blast of fire at the head, making the water evaporate into scalding steam and burning off most of the Legion's head.

Critical strike! Steam Scald attack- 2940 x 300% times more = 8820 Attack!

Harry smiled as he lowered his arms yet again. Apparently, the Game liked to name his combo attacks. Harry quickly observed its health bar. Thankfully, this critical attack had done damage much more substantial than the attack before.

HP: 3440/15200

All he now had to do was wait.

As Harry waited for his mana to charge up, he looked around and realized he was nearly at the Quidditch pitch. He'd covered quite a distance dodging the Legion zombie.

With yet another attack idea in mind, he lifted one hand up and focused his mana into the air around the troll. A massive burst of swirling wind started at the Legion's feet. Harry winced. Controlling air was hard for him…even with his high mana regeneration rate he wouldn't be able to handle this for much longer!

With his burst of mana, he let loose a wave of fire at the swirling wind vortex.

The flames quickly grew and fed upon the air of the vortex of wind as they fed upon the oxygen and the Legion's flesh and turned into a massive fire tornado that started burning off the Legion, who was stuck inside it due to being entirely immobilized.

Critical strike! Fire Tornado- 2520 x 300% times more = 7560 Attack!

The Legion zombie didn't stand a chance. It slowly began to dissolve into dust, leaving an exhausted Harry behind. Heaving for breath, he dropped to the floor, every limb bursting with exhaustion.

Ping!

You gained a new title, you insane twat!

Apprentice Zombie killer- 30% more attack and defense when dealing with the undead. +5 to all stats when dealing with the undead.

Ping!

You gained a total of 14,875 Exp!

Ping!

You leveled up!

Harry Potter

Health-525/525

Mana-300/300

The Gamer

Title-The Boy who Lived

(+20 Str,+20 Vit, +20 Dex, while in Home Turf)

Level-10 Exp-39815/76800

Race-wizard

STR-12

VIT-10(+4)=14

DEX-12(+4)=16

INT-16

WIS-14

LUC-19

POINTS-20

MONEY- 1875£ / 2042G 182S 25K

Harry Potter is a wizard, the son of Lily Potter and James Potter. He has bad eyesight making it difficult for him to do well in class. His magic has gotten him trouble over the years in various schools. Strange things seem to happen around him. Harry is unaware of who he is, and wishes to find meaning in his life. Harry loves his mother, and hates the Dursleys.

Status- wizard, giving Harry +4 VIT, +4 DEX and the ability to control magic, talk to snakes, control his appearance and look cool.

Harry smiled at the larger mana pool he now had and swiped the box away. His new title was also sure to be useful later when he would come here to grind here again. Harry pushed himself back onto his feet and limped over to where the Legion zombie had dissolved and looked at what he got as loot. There were three things there for him.

Wiggenwald Potion, low-level x 3

Restores 45% of HP

restores 30% of MP

Essence of Murtlap, High level

Restores subject's health by a rate of 10% a minute.

Harry quickly stored the potions and the little jar away and picked up the skill book.

Skill book: Area Sense

Ping!

You have obtained the skill book: Area Sense

Would you like to learn?

YES/NO?

Harry pressed yes immediately and then the book burst into flames, filling Harry's head with the knowledge to use this brand new skill.

Ping!

You have obtained the skill, Area Sense!

Area Sense, Lv-1 (0%)

Allows the user to get a sense of the area around him/her. A more permanent version of the Supersensory Charm. The higher the level the more information is provided.

Effective until 20 feet.

Harry then closed the box and intoned, "ID escape." The alternate dimension shattered around him, and Harry found himself back in the real world. The sound of animals wandering around filled the forest air and the birds took the blue sky. Harry quickly put the yew wand into his inventory, pocketed his own one and stored everything else in his inventory.

For a moment he looked at the sky, reveling in the peace until he realized that the sun was right overhead. It was noon.

'Oh shit! The flying class!' he suddenly remembered and took off running towards the Quidditch pitch.

Harry had made it just in time to blend in with all the other boys of the first year and make his way to the center of the Quidditch pitch where Rolanda Hooch, the flying instructor stood with a bunch of brooms lying in rows. The girls would be learning to fly separately. Apparently, for some reason, girls didn't want to learn how to fly on broomsticks in the presence of boys.

Upskirt issues, Terry had called them.

The ground was nice and dry…and hard. Harry briefly paused to consider the numerous perils of flying on a broom of all things. It sounded awesome at first, but now, being only minutes away from it, the stupidity of the whole thing was starting to set it.

Why a broom?! He could do with a plank or even a carpet, but a broom?! That just seemed to be asking for trouble.

Harry paused to take a deep breath.

It was alright, he told himself. He'd flown before using his powers, sort of, and he had no fears of height. It was just that he had problems trusting those rickety looking brooms as much as his own powers.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Hooch barked, pulling Harry out of his reverie, "Everyone, stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over the broom, or left hand if you're left-handed," called Madam Hooch. "And say, UP!"

"UP!" everyone shouted. The broomstick leaped eagerly into Harry's hand. That put him right at the front of the class. Apparently, saying "UP!" was a lot more difficult than it looked, because most of the broomsticks were still rolling around on the ground, or trying to inch away from their riders, as if terrified by the sheer realization that they'd soon be stuck between the legs of pre-pubescent boys.

'Poor brooms.' Harry thought amusedly.

Terry Boot's broom had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Harry wasn't surprised. There was a quiver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground. Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips.

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