August 1991. Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, England.
North of the village stood a lush green hill. Atop it sat an old-fashioned manor, its lawn meticulously trimmed. Sunlight painted the plane trees by the wall in burnished gold.
A long-eared owl flew in from afar, its talons clutching a brown envelope. After two circles in the air, it alighted on the sill beside the plane tree.
Tap-tap. The owl rapped the glass with its beak.
The window opened to reveal a black-haired boy with natural curls. Handsome and neatly dressed, he made an instantly likable impression.
He took the letter—heavy parchment sealed with wax bearing the Weasley crest.
"You flew over two hills just for this?" Damian stroked the owl's head and offered it a dried fish.
Damian's home was actually close to The Burrow; both properties lay near Ottery St Catchpole.
Just then, a black cat crept forward on its belly. As it neared the owl, it sprang, pouncing in a flash!
Startled, the owl flapped to escape. However, the cat was yanked backward in mid-air toward Damian, who caught it one-handed and tucked it under his arm.
Had this been Charms class, Professor Flitwick would have awarded ten points for Damian's wordless Summoning Charm.
"Don't be rude; we have a guest, Nox." Damian smoothed the cat's fur.
Nox was a black cat with Kneazle blood. He possessed an intelligence rivaling that of a human child.
"Mrrrow." Nox nuzzled Damian, his tail flicking in protest, his blue eyes never leaving the owl.
While Damian read, Nox lay across his lap, staring the owl down.
Damian Black was fourteen and a Slytherin at Hogwarts. He was home for the summer break, about to start his third year come September.
He was a transmigrator. An accident in his past life had sent him to this world with his memories intact. Sadly, he'd never read the books—he had only watched some of the films.
His previous life had been unremarkable. In this world, however, his magical talent was superb; his spell-casting already surpassed that of many adult wizards.
"Goodbye, Hermes," he said, handing the reply to the owl, which took off in haste.
Hermes was Percy Weasley's owl, a reward for becoming a prefect. Fred and George, green with envy, had spent the entire holiday inventing excuses to borrow Hermes from Percy.
With Hermes gone, Damian checked the time and returned to clearing the storeroom. He brewed potions often and needed space for a proper laboratory.
Most of the work was done; only the finishing touches remained.
"Nox, you're turning into a dust-ball." Damian sighed at the ash-covered cat.
Cats were naturally curious, forever squeezing into dusty corners. Damian tapped the cat with his wand, casting a quick Scouring Charm. The grime vanished instantly.
"What did you find? Let me see." He had spotted something in the cat's mouth.
He extracted a ring-shaped metal disc, scarred by time. Its rim was set with a flawless, polygonal red crystal. A thread of magic pulsed within the disc, barely perceptible.
Had Damian's magical perception been ordinary, he might have missed it entirely.
What is this? he wondered. He had never seen the disc before. The locked storeroom held only heirlooms from his parents and grandparents.
Suddenly, the crystal glowed a faint red.
Damian's expression shifted. The disc was draining his magic, and fast!
He immediately channeled his magic, forcing an interruption to the flow, but even after stopping the supply, the light emitted by the crystal only blazed brighter. He tried to hurl the disc outside, but it clung to him like a Sticking Charm, fixed to his palm.
Crimson light swallowed his vision.
He found himself paralyzed, his body squeezed as if being forced through a narrow rubber tube, sinking rapidly. The weightlessness of a falling elevator washed over him, and every sound receded.
The world stretched into ghost-images, followed by a violent vertigo.
When it finally faded, he found himself surrounded by an endless expanse of white: snow-laden trees and a sharp wind driving powdery flakes. The bone-deep cold made him shiver. Each breath felt like it was freezing his lungs solid.
Damian's face darkened. The disc had flung him to an entirely unknown place.
"A Portkey? No—the disc is gone! A one-way transfer?" He frowned, his expression grim.
His left hand was empty; the metal disc had vanished completely unnoticed. Luckily, he had been holding his wand while clearing the room. It had come with him.
He waved the wand, transfiguring his neat shirt and waistcoat into a thick travelling cloak, transforming the inner layers into warm wool.
Suddenly, the strange, umbrella-shaped trees around him lurched to life. Arm-thick branches whipped violently toward him.
Damian raised his wand. A sharp whistle sliced the air as a Severing Charm—Diffindo—cut through several limbs, leaving them writhing on the ground.
Before he could even catch his breath, more branches snaked inward, weaving a serpent's nest around him.
"Incendio!"
He lifted his wand high. Jets of roaring flame burst from the tip, beating the branches back. He spun his wand, using the severed wood as fuel to feed the blaze.
A ring of fire walled him off, the burning limbs lashing out like a thousand fiery serpents. He thrust the wand forward. The surging flames punched a clear path through the blazing vines.
Dumbledore's fire-path scene was a famous movie moment from his past life. Damian had watched the clips, the image forever etched into his memory.
Damian's version merely combined Incendio with basic flame manipulation—it was far weaker. Had Dumbledore cast it, the aggressive plants would already be ash. Besides, he could only manage common fire, not something as devastatingly powerful as Fiendfyre.
With the burning branches momentarily scattered, he sprinted onto a nearby mountain path. He raced downhill before the plants could recover.
Bitter wind and driving snow cut his visibility to near zero. The narrow trail offered no room for error—a single misstep meant plunging into the valley below.
Once clear of the grove, he gasped. The icy air stabbed at his throat like needles.
Glancing back, he saw a colossal ancient tree resting on the peak, its limbs arching into a perfect umbrella-like crown. Closer inspection revealed knotted growths along the branches. They looked like giant, tumor-ridden serpents writhing against the stormy sky.
A magical plant? A species I've never even seen? Worry flickered in his eyes. This place was incredibly dangerous.
He checked his pockets: two chocolate bars. The sudden transfer meant he had left his bag with the Undetectable Extension Charm behind. He had to find human habitation fast, as food would be scarce out here.
Suddenly, he froze. A stream of foreign information surged directly into his mind...
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