Book 1: Harry Potter and the Saiyan's Secret

The Gryffindor table was alive with energy as Ron slid into the seat next to Harry, grinning from ear to ear. The warm welcome from his new housemates filled Harry with a strange, comforting glow. The Weasley twins, Fred and George, pounded Ron on the back as though he'd done something heroic.

"Another Weasley in Gryffindor!" Fred announced with mock surprise. "What are the odds?"

"Better than you managing a full sentence without a bad joke," Ron shot back, earning a round of laughter from those nearby.

Harry chuckled, feeling more at ease for the first time all evening. He glanced across the other tables, noticing Draco Malfoy smirking smugly at the Slytherin table. Their eyes met for a moment, and Harry felt a strange twinge of something—annoyance, perhaps, or anticipation.

---

Dinner was a feast like no other. Platters piled high with roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and glistening vegetables appeared out of nowhere. The room filled with the clatter of silverware and animated chatter as the first-years swapped stories and shared their excitement about the term ahead.

"So, Harry," said Seamus Finnigan, a sandy-haired boy with an Irish lilt, "what's it like, being famous?"

Harry shrugged, swallowing a mouthful of pumpkin juice. "I wouldn't know. Only found out about it a few weeks ago."

"Really?" asked Dean Thomas, a tall boy with a love for football. "You didn't know?"

"Nope," Harry said, his voice tinged with frustration. "The Dursleys—my aunt and uncle—never told me anything about magic or… well, anything, really."

"Rubbish, that is," Ron muttered. "Not telling you who you are."

"Didn't stop him from making it here, though," Hermione chimed in. "The important thing is, you're at Hogwarts now."

Harry nodded, though he still felt the weight of unasked questions pressing on him. Why had the Sorting Hat spoken of his power? What did it mean, and why did it feel so... different from everything else he'd seen so far?

---

As the plates cleared themselves and the dessert disappeared, Professor Dumbledore stood, his presence immediately commanding attention. His silver beard seemed to shimmer in the candlelight as he raised his hands.

"Welcome!" he said, his voice warm yet powerful. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Before we begin, a few start-of-term notices. First, the Forbidden Forest is, as always, strictly off-limits to students. And secondly, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that no magic is to be used in the corridors between classes."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as they scanned the room. "Finally, I'd like to say this: Though challenges may arise, I have every confidence that the bonds we forge here will carry us through. Now, off to bed—there's a big day ahead tomorrow!"

The students clapped politely and began filing out of the Great Hall. Harry followed the Gryffindor prefects, feeling more tired than he realized. The staircase to the common room was steep, and Harry was glad when they finally stopped before a portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she asked, eyeing them.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, the prefect.

The portrait swung open, revealing a cozy common room with a roaring fire, squashy armchairs, and warm red-and-gold decor. Harry felt an immediate sense of belonging.

"Upstairs, boys!" Percy called. "Your dormitory's at the top."

---

The first-years climbed the spiral staircase to find a round room with four-poster beds, each draped with heavy scarlet curtains. Harry found his trunk at the foot of his bed, Hedwig perched contentedly in her cage beside it.

"Not bad, eh?" Ron said, flopping onto his bed with a sigh. "Feels like home already."

Harry smiled but said nothing. As he changed into his pajamas, he couldn't help but feel that the night wasn't quite over.

And he was right.

---

The moment Harry's head hit the pillow, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. But somewhere in the stillness of the night, he awoke to a faint whisper.

"Potter…"

Harry sat up, heart racing. The dormitory was dark, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the window. The other boys were fast asleep, their breathing slow and steady.

"Who's there?" Harry whispered, his voice barely audible.

No answer came, but the whisper returned, this time clearer. "You cannot hide what you are…"

Harry swung his legs out of bed, feeling a strange pull. His heart thudded in his chest as he crept toward the window. The moonlight seemed unnaturally bright, casting the grounds in an eerie silver glow.

"You are not like them…" the voice continued, low and haunting. "Your power… it will destroy you… or them."

"Show yourself!" Harry demanded, his whisper fierce.

The room fell silent, and for a moment, Harry thought he'd imagined it. But as he stared into the night, a faint glimmer caught his eye—something moving in the Forbidden Forest far below.

It vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving Harry with more questions than answers.

---

When morning came, Harry told himself it must have been a dream. But the memory of the whisper stayed with him, unsettling and undeniable.

As he joined Ron and Hermione for breakfast in the Great Hall, Harry glanced toward the staff table, wondering if Dumbledore—or anyone else—might know what was happening to him.

But how could he explain something he didn't understand himself?