The professor's voice droned on, filling the lecture hall with a monotonous explanation of tensor calculus and its applications in physics. "Tensor calculus provides the mathematical framework for theories like general relativity," he said, scribbling equations on the chalkboard. "It allows us to describe the shape and curvature of space using differential geometry."
Lucas sat in the back of the room, his eyes fixed on the professor but his mind wandering far beyond the confines of the classroom. He didn't bother taking notes like the other students; his eidetic memory rendered such efforts unnecessary. The concepts being taught were familiar to him, having already mastered them. Yet, he was obligated to attend, a requirement he couldn't escape despite his advanced knowledge.
As the lecture continued, Lucas absently twisted the ring on his left hand, his thoughts drifting to the concept of the Butterfly Effect. It's incredible how a seemingly insignificant change can lead to such drastic alterations in the timeline, he ruminated, his brow furrowing slightly. I never expected my transmigration to have such far-reaching consequences so quickly.
He recalled his recent visits to Diagon Alley, where whispers of escalating tensions with Magical China had caught his attention. At first, he had been perplexed, unable to reconcile this development with the events he remembered from the books in his past life. Could my presence here have somehow triggered this? He had wondered, but quickly dismissed the notion. Further investigation had revealed that a powerful Chinese wizard had appeared near his house, engaging in a fierce battle with the Aurors assigned to protect him. The wizard had been subdued by Albus Dumbledore himself and subsequently jailed, but the incident had sparked international complications.
Magical China demanded the wizard's extradition, claiming the right to dispense justice on their own citizen, Lucas recalled, his mind piecing together the fragments of information he had gathered. But then, the very day he was to be transferred, the wizard died in the custody of the British Ministry of Magic, with the two Senior Aurors guarding him mysteriously vanishing.
The accusations had flown fast and furious, with China accusing Magical Britain of orchestrating the wizard's death to avoid handing him over, while Britain countered that China had likely assassinated him to frame them. The political tensions had only escalated since then, with trade restrictions and diplomatic posturing becoming increasingly common.
Lucas's thoughts turned to Albus Dumbledore, the venerable wizard who, in the original timeline, had assumed the position of Supreme Mugwump around this time. But in this reality, his ascension was blocked by politicians from Magical China, Lucas mused, his fingers tapping thoughtfully against his thigh. Without that international influence, Dumbledore remains merely the Headmaster of Hogwarts and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. How will this affect the unfolding of events?
He couldn't recall the International Confederation of Wizards playing a significant role in the civil war that had ravaged Magical Britain in the books. They were primarily concerned with maintaining the Statute of Secrecy, reluctant to intervene in a country's internal matters unless there was a severe risk of exposure, he reasoned. Still, it's hard to believe Dumbledore wouldn't have leveraged his position as Supreme Mugwump to subtly aid his cause, even if the ICW's bureaucracy would have made it difficult for him to openly abuse his power.
A soft sigh escaped Lucas's lips as his thoughts turned to Hogwarts, the magical school that loomed large in his future. Should I even bother attending? he questioned, his brow creasing in contemplation. Objectively, there are few compelling reasons for me to go. My magical abilities have grown greatly over the past two years, and I could dispatch skilled assassins at the age of seven. Granted, I had the element of surprise on my side, but my combat prowess has only increased since then. What could Hogwarts possibly teach me that I couldn't learn on my own?
He glanced around the lecture hall, taking in the attentive faces of his fellow students. My current position at Cambridge, studying physics at the Cavendish Laboratory, provides me with far more valuable opportunities, he acknowledged. Access to advanced equipment, the chance to prove hypotheses based on my future knowledge, and the ability to establish myself in the academic world. I once viewed the Muggle world as a mere stepping stone on my path to the Wizarding world, but now, I'm beginning to question that assumption. What does the magical community have to offer me that I couldn't simply take for myself?
The prospect of spending years at Hogwarts, subjecting himself to the authority of teachers who could impart little that he couldn't teach himself, left Lucas feeling uneasy. I'd be surrounded by children, forced to use a wand for the most basic of spells, and constantly at risk of weakening my own magical will by relying on a crutch, he thought, his lip curling slightly in distaste. And the coursework! Endless essays on wand motions and whatnot that I have no use for. It would be an exercise in tedium and frustration.
Yet, even as he mentally catalogued the drawbacks of attending Hogwarts, Lucas couldn't help but consider the potential benefits. The Room of Requirement, the Chamber of Secrets, the opportunity to forge alliances with future power players in the Wizarding world, he mused, his mind weighing each factor carefully. But are those advantages truly exclusive to Hogwarts students? Couldn't I gain access to the school's secrets through other means, without subjecting myself to the constraints of being a student?
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he pondered the question. Perhaps the true value of Hogwarts lies in the connections I could make, the young witches and wizards who will one day wield influence in magical society. As the Boy-Who-Lived, I'm already a celebrity in Magical Britain, but those friendships could prove useful if I decide to pursue political power.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
But even as the thought crossed his mind, Lucas felt doubtful. Do I truly care about political influence, though? With each passing year, my magical abilities grow stronger, my Visualization technique opening up new avenues of exploration. Right now, I'm focused on Elemental Magic, but I know that's just the beginning. As I delve into more esoteric branches of magic, my power will only continue to increase. And with that power, what need do I have for the petty games of politics?
He thought of the countless hours he had already devoted to establishing himself in the Muggle world, the papers he had published, the conferences he had attended, the famous scientists he had met. Even those efforts have taken time away from my magical practice, he conceded, his gaze drifting off. At Hogwarts, with classes and the social obligations of a boarding school, I'd have even less time to dedicate to my true passions.
A frown tugged at the corners of Lucas's mouth as a new concern surfaced in his mind. But would Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic even allow me to skip Hogwarts? he wondered, his fingers clenching slightly around the ring on his hand. I may not need a wand to perform magic, but they could still make things very inconvenient for me if I refuse to attend. And then there's the question of how I'd explain my magical knowledge without any formal education...
He considered the alternatives, his mind going through his options. I could seek out another magical school, perhaps in America or Europe or Asia. Somewhere that would give me more freedom to pursue my own interests, without the baggage of being the Boy-Who-Lived.
But even as he entertained the idea, Lucas felt resigned. No matter where I go, there will be expectations, obligations, and limitations. The only true path to freedom is to forge my own way, to let my magic guide me to heights beyond the reach of any school or government.
With a sigh, he refocused his attention on the lecture, the professor's voice washing over him like a distant tide. The decision of whether to attend Hogwarts still weighed heavily on his mind, but for now, he would bide his time, gathering knowledge and power until the moment came to choose his path.
oo0ooOoo0oo
Petunia's footsteps were soft against the carpeted floor as she made her way to Dudley's room, the first rays of the morning sun filtering through the windows and casting a warm glow in the hallway. She gently pushed open the door, the hinges creaking slightly, and stepped inside. The room was tidy, with toys neatly arranged on shelves and the bed covers only slightly rumpled.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on Dudley's shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. "Dudley, sweetie, it's time to get up," she said softly, her voice warm and soothing.
Dudley's eyes fluttered open, and he yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Morning, Mum," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.
Petunia smiled, her heart swelling with love and pride for her son. He was such a good boy, never giving her any trouble. Not like when he was a toddler, with his constant tantrums and screaming fits that would leave her ears ringing and her nerves frayed. She shuddered slightly at the memory, grateful those days were behind them.
"Breakfast will be ready soon," she said, smoothing back his hair. "Why don't you take a shower and get dressed, and I'll have everything on the table by the time you come down."
Dudley nodded, climbing out of bed and padding towards the bathroom. Petunia watched him go, a small smile playing on her lips.
She left Dudley's room and headed down the hallway, her mind already on the tasks ahead. She needed to start the coffee for Vernon, fry up some bacon and eggs, maybe make some toast. She was so lost in her thoughts that she walked right past Harry's room without even realizing it.
It wasn't until she was halfway down the stairs that she remembered she hadn't woken him up. She paused, her hand on the banister, and considered going back. But then, almost as if someone else was controlling her actions, she shook her head and continued on her way.
In the kitchen, Petunia moved with practiced efficiency, cracking eggs into a bowl, laying strips of bacon in a pan, and putting bread in the toaster. The sizzle of the bacon and the rich aroma of coffee filled the air, and she inhaled deeply, letting the familiar scents wash over her.
She was just setting the plates on the table when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Dudley and Harry appeared in the doorway, deep in conversation.
"I'm telling you, Harry, the new Super Mario Bros game is amazing!" Dudley was saying, his eyes bright with excitement. "You've got to try it."
Harry smiled, but Petunia could tell his heart wasn't in it. "Sure, Dudley, maybe later," he said, taking his seat at the table.
Petunia watched them, her thoughts drifting back to when Harry had first come to live with them. She had been so uncertain, so torn about how to feel about this child who had turned their lives upside down. But now, looking at him, she couldn't help but feel a rush of affection and gratitude.
Harry had been such a good influence on Dudley, encouraging him to study hard and make friends. And it wasn't just Dudley who had benefited. Petunia's own social circle had grown, her status rising along with Harry's fame. Even Vernon had reaped the rewards, with his recent promotion to CEO of Grunnings.
And then there was the money. Petunia still couldn't quite wrap her head around it, how Harry had managed to turn the 2 million pounds from his published papers into a fortune of over 140 million pounds within 2 years. She knew people in the financial world followed his every move, trying to mimic his success.
As she sat down at the table, Vernon looked up from his newspaper. "Any plans for the day, Harry?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
Harry shrugged. "Not really. I might work on some projects, but nothing major."
Dudley's fork paused halfway to his mouth. "But you promised we could go to the park today!" he said, a hint of a whine creeping into his voice. "You said you'd help me practice my football skills."
Harry's smile was genuine this time. "You're right, I did. Okay, we can head to the park after breakfast."
Petunia reached across the table, patting Dudley's hand. "Just be careful, you two. And make sure you're back in time for dinner. I'm making your favorite, Dudley - shepherd's pie."
Dudley grinned, his earlier disappointment forgotten. "You're the best, Mum."
The rest of the meal passed in comfortable chatter, with Vernon discussing his latest project at work and Petunia sharing her plans for the garden. But through it all, Petunia's thoughts kept drifting back to Harry.
He had changed their lives in so many ways, and not just financially. He had brought them closer as a family, had given Dudley a role model and a friend. And for that, Petunia knew she would always be grateful.