HP - I Got My Sacred Gear... and It Manifested as a Chat Group!?

Chapter 1: Chapter 1



Sunday, October 31, 1994

Morning

He wandered in a daze, not really noticing where he was heading. It didn't really matter to him.

Remembering the events from yesterday, he didn't really care where he was heading. Harry Potter just wanted to be alone right now.

'Why is it always Halloween? That day has to be more cursed than the position of the DADA Professor…' he thought to himself.

Could he do anything against it? Not really. Even with all the hype always around him, he wasn't a great wizard; he is just Harry. Being alive today is more luck than anything else.

And yet again the life of the Boy-who-lived (dumbest title ever) was faced with expectations, assumptions, and prejudices that had nothing to do with reality.

As if the people didn't even really know him, after more than three years since he had returned to the Wizarding World.

The worst part was that even his best friends were the same.

Less than 24 hours ago, Harry Potter had been eagerly awaiting a Halloween feast with nothing unexpected happening.

No crying girls in a bathroom that he would have to save from a troll, no Death Day Celebration he had to attend only for a 1000-year-old sneak to wake up and ruin his year for him, and no murderers that were out to get him (even though that one turned out to be his godfather).

Everything seemed normal, well, besides some idiots during the World Cup causing trouble, but that had not much to do with him and Hogwarts. Even if they conjured a Dark Mark, that sounds like a Ministry/Auror problem, not a Harry problem, who was just a student.

This should be his first normal Halloween feast, even with a good bonus show, the selection of the Triwizard Champions, who would participate in a deadly tournament that he could enjoy from the sidelines since he was underage and legally not allowed to participate.

But of course not.

His damn Potter luck.

No nice Halloween for him, no watching a deathly tournament this year.

He had to participate in that damn thing himself.

Even if he was legally not allowed to participate, apparently magically binding contracts are above the laws. Good to know.

That damn broken Goblet that was supposed to select the three participants for the Triwizard Tournament and magically bind them into the competition had spit out and bound a fourth name. HIS.

This whole disaster had once again proved to him how incompetent the Ministry was. Dumbledore is not much better with his so-called age line preventing any underaged wizard from participating in the tournament.

And here he was… in the tournament that the age line should prevent his participation in.

Harry was pissed off. The ministry, which was just as incompetent as he expected, was just a small part of it. Dumbledore, a slightly bigger part, that bearded fool even had the gall to ask him if he had put his name into the goblet.

As if he didn't know Harry, with his annoying, twinkly eyes.

Slytherins had acted like he expected either indifference like most Ravenclaws or Malfoy and his sphere of influence had mocked him as a cheater. Very creative, like always.

Hufflepuff went a bit overboard with their jealousy because Cedric Diggory from their house had been originally selected as Hogwarts Champion. Calling him a cheater and a glory hound.

Yeah, right. As if he cared about the eternal glory of a tournament he'd just heard of for the first time in his life, one where he didn't even know the names of any past winners.

Their reactions were kind of expected.

What really had pissed him off were the Gryffindors.

Just like in his second year, when he had been labelled the Heir of Slytherin and an upcoming Dark Lord, they all had jumped once again on the easiest conclusion.

He had found a way to bypass the protections on the Goblet and didn't tell anyone. Some celebrated his big achievements; others held a grudge.

It didn't matter what they knew of him; no, he had to be someone who cheated his way into the deadly tournament and didn't share the method of how he did it with anyone else.

Not even with his best friend Ronald Weasley, who in a fit of jealousy began to isolate him.

This not only hurt but made him angry.

Seriously, even if Ron didn't know his character, as his best friend. What is he expecting?

Did he really believe a magical artifact with the ability to pick the best contestant amongst each school would have picked Ronald Weasley, who needed to copy most of his homework from Harry and Hermione if she let him?

Did he get dropped too often on his head when he was a kid? Although Harry felt a theory that occurred to him a while ago quite convincing.

He felt like the Twins would test something like a dimness drought on someone like Ron. So maybe he was suffering under the long-term effects of such a potion?

Thinking was not one of Ronald Weasley's strengths.

And his last hope, the one person who was supposed to be able to think things through, the brightest witch of their age, was nowhere to be found.

Most likely also jumping to conclusions.

Harry really needed some space.

"Hello Harry! What are you doing here?"

"Eh, Myrtle… I was just walking around…" Harry replied, startled by the sudden voice that had ripped him out of his thoughts.

Looking around, he realized he had unconsciously wandered into Myrtle's bathroom, where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was hidden away.

Probably because he had been thinking so much about the events around the Chamber, his feet had automatically led him here.

Quickly coming up with a plausible excuse for what he was doing here, he replied, "I was just thinking about hiding away in the Chamber for a bit. The Hogwarts population is just too troublesome right now, and the Chamber is the perfect place to hide away for a bit."

"Oh, I get you. There are not many places to hide away in Hogwarts. I also always went to this bathroom when the students got too mean." She said a bit sadly, remembering her past, before adding with a silver blush on her cheeks, "Good luck for the tournament, Harry! The offer for a spot in my toilet still stands if you should die!"

"Thank you, Myrtle…" Harry said unsure before turning towards the entrance hidden with sinks.

He quickly found the tap with the snake engraving, the feeling of Parseltongue once again on his lips, an ability he disregarded far too often. Damn sheep and their prejudices.

In anger he hissed, "Open.

As soon as the entrance had opened, he jumped into the darkness of the pipe, not even thinking about how he would get back up. Harry was far too pissed off to think things through right now.

His famous temper was fully active now.

Once he arrived in the darkness of the tunnel system, miles below the school, Harry didn't stop. He just cast a quick Lumos and headed deeper into the wet tunnels.

If he was here already, he could take a look at the chamber before even thinking about what he was even doing here.

Harry, in anger, marched straight down the tunnel. Thanks to his overpowered Lumos, he was able to see quite far and easily made out the big piece of discarded Basilisk Skin.

It was huge. While he had been tiny in his second year, from years of malnutrition and abuse, even now, when he had been eating healthier and more for the majority of the year, now that he had grown taller, he still felt like that Skin was massive.

And the real thing was even bigger.

How had he survived back then?

Remembering that he had been the one who had to get down here as a tiny second year to solve the problems of the teachers, the ministry, and the so-called greatest wizard of all times, he got even more furious and walked further.

But he noted down that he should look for someone who could turn the skin into combat robes or something.

Basilisks are supposed to be even more resistant to magic than dragons. Their skin should make excellent robes for this tournament and give him a bigger chance to survive.

Soon he passed the collapsed section, which still had a hole big enough for him to fit through, and he finally arrived at the solid stone wall with two entwined stone serpents engraved, which had two large emeralds as their eyes.

Even years later, these two serpents that hid the Chamber of Secrets behind them looked as if they were strangely alive.

§Open§

With that hiss the serpents began to move and parted, the wall opened between them, revealing the legendary Chamber of Secrets.

Inside the chamber looked as he had left it behind. It didn't look like anyone had entered.

Maybe Dumbledore couldn't enter it without being a Parselmouth?

Harry had been certain the old man would come to at least investigate the Chamber. This was the sensible thing to do; after all, there could be other dangers hidden away here, more Basilisk eggs, for example.

If he were headmaster, he would have come to make sure it was safe; even if he couldn't enter himself, he would have asked Harry for help.

But everything looked the same; the corpse of the basilisk was still there, lying dead on the floor where Harry had stabbed it. The damages from the battle were unrepaired, untouched just as they had been.

And the stupid, big stone face of that pretentious prick, Salazar Slytherin, the self-styled greatest of the four Hogwarts Founders, looking down the Chamber, mocking Harry, who had so much trouble thanks to the man's ideals and descendants.

Realizing he was alone and nobody could disrupt him or blame him or nag him, Harry raised his wand and cast, "Bombarda!" right into Salazar's face.

Watching the nose of the massive statue being blown off felt so rewarding. He didn't stop and kept casting, "Reducto! Bombarda! Reducto! Bombarda Maxima!" into that stupid face that was annoying him off so much.

Which was a pretty stupid thing to do. After all, he was in a cave chamber over 1000 years old, probably created with magic. Centuries before construction static was even a thing.

While the Stone Face of Salazar Slytherin was not riddled with holes, damage, and cracks, it didn't stop just there. Especially the last spell, Bombarda Maxima, had caused a ton of damage.

Causing cracks to spread out from the statue to the roof area of the chamber.

"Oh, I am going to die." Harry realized how dumb he had just been.

The whole chamber was shaking, and he was too far away from the exit. Massive rocks had already loosened from the roof and were falling right at him all over the ancient chamber.

With nowhere to run, he instinctively raised his hands to protect himself. There was nothing else that came to his mind. No spell that could save him.

'I don't want to die.'

Suddenly he felt a power inside of him that he had never felt before. Out of his hands came strange purple mist and began to surround him, creating a cover all around him.

But what was Mist supposed to do? The stones and rubble would just pass through and hit him.

As soon as the first Stone touched the Mist, it disappeared inside of it. It was just gone as soon as it entered the mist.

The same thing happened with all the other falling rubble touching his mist.

Still, it didn't mean he would survive.

Harry Potter had just caused the whole Chamber of Secrets to collapse. He watched as the tons of massive stone crushed the corpse of the basilisk a few meters away from him.

Even the entrance got buried below massive amounts of stone.

Only his Mist was protecting him, creating a small cave for him to survive below the earth.

After a while the Collapse stopped, the Stone having relatively stabilized itself around him.

"Just great... Instead of being crushed by Stone, I am going to be buried alive until I run out of air or starve…" He muttered dejectedly as he watched the stones surrounding him, "Just how am I going to get out of here?"

Something flickered in front of him.

[ Welcome to the Multiverse Chat Group! ]

"Huh?"

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HP - DXD - HP - DXD - HP

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