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Hero Summoning - Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2024-01-05 10:40:56 +0000 UTCHappy Friday, everyone! So the poll ended a day before, and it was interesting to see the results, as at first both stories were neck and neck, but in the end this one won by a slight margin.
Which I am happy with because, with this story, I will have to squeeze my mind for the plot, and I am excited to write it.
The first chapter, as always, is a nice, simple, and short prologue, which will give you the base of the story, and I hope you like it.
I wish all of you a lovely day.
Thank you!
Have we ever considered that the world we lived in was not the only one of its own kind?
And I am not talking about other planets.
No, I am talking about the fact that imagine if there were hundreds of worlds out there that were the same as ours in this whole infinite existence.
Worlds that were identical to ours looked the same, worked the same, had the same human beings, animals, and nature, and even had the same world-wide problems that we do.
Imagine that there could be hundreds of worlds out there in this existence that we would never know about that are the perfect replica of ours.
Worlds where our perfect doppelgänger lived... But was it right to call them doppelgängers when they were literally us but just different?
It was a fascinating thought, wasn’t it? But it was a thought that we could have but would never prove its existence. After all, how could we?
But the same couldn’t be said for one man, whose whole life was going to change.
This man doesn’t even have any idea what was about to happen to him.
A man who has seen many impossible things in his young life—hell, he even has seen magic and used it, but still he hasn’t seen something like this.
And it would all happen because another world needed a hero to save them.
And that man was none other than...
Harry Potter
-
In a world far away from our hero's
On the quiet street of a borough in Islington, London, there was a row of town houses that were all similar in appearance.
People were walking down the streets, going about their day-to-day lives, without even noticing the fact that there was no number 13 in between numbers 12 and 14.
It was because the No. 13 house was a magical one, unlike all the others.
A house that was hidden with the use of magic so that no one else—not only muggles but even magical people—could find it.
The name of the house was Grimmauld Place.
But this house was different than the one we remember.
Instead of being a dark, unkept, lifeless place that was only filled with dark magic, it was a house that was cleaned, filled with living members, and had a lively feeling to it.
Although it was still filled with dark magic, after all, it was a house of the Black family.
And inside this house, sitting in silence in a completely blank room in the basement, were the members of the Order of Phoenix, who were all staring at the old wizard with the white beard—who was their little group head—scribing a set of runes around a big circle.
If you looked closer, it could be seen that the ritual circle had a heptagram inside of it, with runes painted all over the edges of it.
There were even some ingredients required for the ritual in every corner of the heptagram.
The old wizard was fully focused on his preparation for the ritual, while the people surrounding him were all looking at him with a mixture of fear, nervousness, and hope on their faces.
“Are you sure it’s the right thing to do, Albus?” A messy-haired man in his late 30s, with round glasses on his handsome face, broke the silence.
Albus Dumbledore sighed upon hearing the same question once again.
But he still answered without stopping writing runes, which he couldn’t afford; otherwise, the whole ritual would fail and their lives could be lost.
“As I have told you many times already, James," Dumbledore began, his eyes still focused on drawing the runes. “It is the right thing to do in our dire situation.”
“But surely there could be another way than this.” James Potter said with his eyes unsure and nervous, while his hand was gripped tightly by his wife.
"James, it’s been 10 years,” the old, tired wizard stated. “10 years have passed since this second war started, and we have tried everything we could but still haven’t defeated Tom. This is our last chance; there is nothing else left.”
“Or at least I have nothing left in my mind, so if you do, please tell us some ideas that could help us." Dumbledore replied, looking into the hazel eyes of the head of House Potter after completing the ruins.
The wizard who was the Titan of his generation at this time really looked his age. There were wrinkles all over his aged face, his hair was dishevelled and unkept, and he looked as if he hadn't taken a bath in a long time.
And it was actually true. The headmaster of Hogwarts hadn’t slept or bathed since the time he started preparing for this ritual.
Which was 2 days ago.
All he had done in the last two days was read everything on every piece of paper he could find about this ritual.
He had read the whole thing so many times that he now knew the ritual by the back of his right hand.
And after reading it, checking it, and finally finding the ingredients, here he was finally putting the finishing touches on the ritual that might bring the hero they needed to save their world.
Dumbledore wasn’t even 100 percent sure if this ritual were, but for him, it had to be; he would make sure it would because his whole life and everything he has achieved were on line.
They needed this ritual to work to get the hero they needed who would help them defeat their enemy.
And Dumbledore needed it more than anyone else; after all, their enemy was one of his biggest regrets.
Even to this day, he always cursed himself for not killing the young Tom Riddle before he became the monster he was now.
No matter how inhuman it was to kill a child who still hadn’t committed any crime.
He wished that for once in his life he had gone against his morale and he had done the deed some 50 years ago that would have spared this world from suffering the biggest dark load of all time.
Which was the reason why, no matter what his former order of Phoenix members thought, Dumbledore was not going to back down from attempting this ritual.
No matter what.
Coming out of his thoughts, he saw James avoid his eyes, as the man knew he didn’t have the answer to his leader's question and decided not to reply back.
Unlike his wife.
“But why can’t you see the problem in this?” Exclaimed the red-haired, beautiful woman with eyes like an emerald green that captivated everyone's attention.
It was Lily Potter nee Evans, the wife of James Potter, for 20 years now.
“We are taking an innocent person from their world without their consent; it is practically a kidnapping!!” Lily rages, standing up with her red hair flashing with her magic.
“You don’t have to worry, Lily; I will send them back once they defeat our enemy,” Dumbledore tried to console the angry witch.
But instead of calming down, Lily's anger reached a new height. “And what if you failed and they got stuck here somewhere they never wanted to be?”
“And Merlin, forbid, what if they lost their lives while defending ours?" Lily yelled, her eyes glowing in anger. “Can you live your whole life with the guilt in your heart that it was because of you that an innocent person lost their life while fighting someone else's battle?"
Her words struck true in the hearts of Dumbledore, who knew the risk in what he was doing but tried not to show it on his face.
He knew she was right and that there was a high chance of exactly what she said happening. They were changing someone’s innocent life, and if they died, it would be his hands that would be red with their blood.
But he was far too gone and was ready to take this risk.
He was about to open his mouth to somehow reason with Lady Potter, but someone else decided to do it before he could.
“We don’t have the luxury of time to think about the consequences of our actions, Lily,” said a tall, aristocratic-looking man with long black hair and grey eyes.
Sirius Black was a dear friend of James and Lily Potter, and he was also the head of the house they were in.
“We are in a desperate time to win this war; we have to do things that aren’t right and are against our own morale." Sirius continued softly, “We have to do this to give our kids a peaceful future where they don’t have to go through what we did.”
Lily's face softened when she heard the emotional words of the man she considered her brother. "Bu-,“ she tried to reply back but was stopped by the hands of her husband on her arm.
Turning to him, she saw him shake his head. “Please don't, Lily,” James whispered warmly. “Sirius is right; sometimes we have to take hard decisions for our kids happiness. Think about our daughters; don’t you want them to live the rest of their school life and ahead without worrying about the war and the people they could lose?” He asked, rubbing a thumb on his wife’s knuckles.
Lily’s eyes teared up as the image of her lovely daughter flashed in her eyes. “You know that I want them to live their lives fully,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
“But James, with this ritual, we are taking someone’s son or girl from them,” a tear dropped from her eyes. “And I know the pain of a mother who lost her child,” she sobbed.
“Don’t you think I don’t know that? I also lost my son, Lily." James cupped her cheeks and wiped her tears. “But we have to do this for our kids, and there could be a chance that the hero we are summoning might not have anyone in their life, and they may find what they need in our world.”
Lily’s lips curled into a small smile upon hearing her loving husband's optimism. She loved that he always tried to find something positive in any situation.
“I really hope that too, James; I really do,” she whispered, looking into her lover's eyes.
“Keeping hope is the only thing left we could do, Lily Flower," James said, quietly kissing her head and taking her in his arms.
He then looked over her shoulder at everyone in the room and nodded to Dumbledore to start the ritual.
Dumbledore smiled and nodded back, thanking him for calming his wife.
The old wizard then looked at the head of the house. “It’s time, Sirius, to start the ritual... Seal the room,” he ordered.
Sirius bobbed his head, and then he went to the single small tapestry hanging in the whole blank room. And putting his hand on the Black family crest that was drawn on it, he whispered.
“Attendite mandatum meum et claude cubiculum.”
With his command given, suddenly a wave of magic spread the whole room, covering it from edge to edge, and following what Dumbledore told him, the room was sealed now.
This room was not just a simple sitting room; instead, it was a special room made by the Black family head at the time this place was built.
This room was specifically built for performing rituals, which was why it was known as the Ritual Room.
After the command was given only by the head of house, this room became sealed. It was done so that the room could absorb any ritual magic and the whole house wouldn’t be affected by it.
Hearing a clink sound in his head, signalling that the room was safe, Sirius turned to Dumbledore and nodded.
Dumbledore straightened his shoulder, making his posture straight, and his body no longer showed the same amount of fatigue that it should for an old man who hasn’t slept in two days.
The time that he had been waiting for months was finally here; this was what he had been researching and reading those century-old papers for so long.
His mind and body were ready to finally see what his hard work would reward him.
“Everyone take a step back." Dumbledore ordered his voice firm, commanding, “Have your wand in your hand, but no one uses it until the ritual is done. Is that clear?”
A nod of the head from everyone in the room was his answer.
No matter what differences they had in their opinion of their leader, they still believed him to do what was best for them.
Dumbledore kneeled down, and touching the tip of his wand to the edge of the runic circle, he began the mantra of the ritual.
For the next fifteen minutes, Dumbledore kept his mantra going without even stopping once.
All the members of the Order of Phoenix were stunned to see their leader speak the mantra for so long.
They knew the ritual wouldn’t be easy, but they never thought about how much longer it would go.
Even past the fifteen-minute mark, Dumbledore was still going, and some were getting concerned seeing no magical reaction happening in the runic circle.
Until there was a spark.
Everyone’s eyes widen, and they stiffen as they watch the ritual take place with a bated breath.
The spark that began in the centre of the circle started spreading throughout the whole circle.
First, it went to each of the eight sides of the heptagram, and then it covered the full circle until the runic circle was alight with magic.
The sheer magical power flowing from it was overwhelming for everyone.
They had to plant their steps down to force themselves to stay upright and not get crushed by the magical waves flying from the circle.
The ritual was much stronger than anyone had anticipated, except Dumbledore, who kept his mantra going.
He knew that this ritual was the strongest he was ever going to do. And the reason should be obvious: They were summoning a powerhouse to help them.
After a whole 20 minutes of whispering, the mantra finally came to an end, and Dumbledore spread his arms and shouted the last few words.
"Vocate heros opus!!!”
The magic around the circle became a hurricane, with a speed that kept increasing.
Every person in the room had their faces covered by their hands as the magical hurricane kept becoming wilder and wilder, making a whiplash at them.
Some rays of magic even emitted from the thunder, which fortunately only struck the blank walls, leaving black scorch marks on them.
The magical hurricane kept spinning until no one could even look at him without going blind to the sheer brightness it was reflecting.
Until finally, it stopped.
And then it blasted.
A tsunami of magical waves flew from it, hitting everyone by it as each person in the room was swept from their feet and carried to the wall, where some hit their heads and felt unconscious.
Those who were strong enough withstand the explosion and kept themselves from blacking out under the huge suffocating pressure in the room from ritual.
After a while, the magical pressure suddenly vanished, and the room became silent.
The ones who were still conscious removed their hands from their faces and looked at the middle of the room, where the ritual circle was.
In place of a ritual circle, they instead saw a cloud of dust and debris from the destroyed floor, and looking closely, they saw a human figure in the cloud.
A male figure was confirmed when they heard a deep, masculine voice.
“Where am I?”
-
Half an hour ago, in the world of our hero
In the real Grimmauld Place, we remembered, sitting on the couch in the main room was the saviour of the wizarding world.
His tall legs were spread out, and in his right hand was a cup of black coffee that he kept sipping on.
There was a regal charm around the 19-year-old man that every male would be jealous of, and his magical energy could be felt a while away from him, even when he was surpassing it.
His face was a mix of aristocratic sharpness and rugged handsomeness. With his high cheekbones, strong, sharp jawline, and long black hair tied in a bun, he could make any girl fall for him.
That was without even including those gorgeous emerald green eyes of his.
But at this time, his face had an expression that would scare any female or male.
His face was hard and had a completely emotionless expression on it.
Taking a sip from his dark coffee, Harry wished once again that he liked fire whiskey. So that he could have something harder to drink.
But unfortunately, he had never liked any alcohol, which was why he drank black coffee to soothe his pain.
'Pain' Harry snorted, thinking about that simple-looking word that held no meaning to him anymore.
What was the pain after what he had gone through his whole life?
He didn’t even know if he could feel pain anymore after all the suffering he had suffered since the day he lost his parents.
From the time he was just 18 months old, he had started feeling pain.
First, it was the pain of loneliness to have no one there for a toddler when even his own aunt didn’t try to take care of him.
Then, when he grew up to stand on his own two feet and be able to do work with his hand, it was the pain of abuse and ignorance he felt.
And it was both mental and physical pain that he felt from the blows of his uncles and aunts and the pain of cooking and doing the chores of the house from the age of six.
At the age of eleven, there did come a time when he felt his life was finally changing when a half-giant broke through the house where his uncle was hiding him.
When he went to Hogwarts, the school he was always destined for, he believed all his pain from his life was now gone and he could finally live it like he wanted and should.
And everything was going right for him in his first three years, but then, in his fourth year, he realised how wrong he was.
The pain never left him; it just went away for a while to give him a false sense of security before it came back with vengeance.
At the end of his fourth year in that cursed graveyard, he experienced pain that was worse than anything he had ever faced before.
It was the agony of losing someone right in front of your eyes.
First it was Cedric in his fourth year, then his godfather Sirius in the fifth year, and then Dumbledore in the sixth year.
And after that, it was just a series of deaths for the next three years until now. There was so much death that Harry couldn’t even count which one was in which year.
Friends, housemates, classmates, the students (he never even spoke with), the people who were almost like his family, people who were close to his heart, and some who even won his heart.
All of them were gone from his life.
How funny it was that in just 19 years of life, he lost everyone he had.
And it was all because of a mad man who couldn’t just accept his death.
Harry still couldn't believe that he had spent the last four years of his life fighting and waging the war against the dark lord Voldemort.
From being just a participant, he has risen to become the leader of his people, and he succeeded and did what great Albus Dumbledore couldn't just a few months ago when he finally killed the monster that was Voldemort.
And along the way, he lost everyone, and with them, he lost even a part of himself.
And now, all alone, he was living his life with a bag of regrets.
Every time he went to sleep and closed his eyes, the faces of his loved ones flashed before him, making him remember his mistakes and the consequences of the war he won.
Every day he regretted and was angry at many things of his past that could have changed or stopped the things from happening before they did.
Like how he should have trained much earlier in his life for the time he was bound to face the snake-face so that he could defeat him much sooner.
And he wished that his old headmaster had given him better clues than he did, which could have helped him find the horcruxes much earlier than the two years that it took him.
Because of that, at least he might have had the chance to kill Riddle a year ago, saving many people's lives.
But it was of no use now because, for Harry Potter, everyone was gone; no one left, and he just had to live that.
He had to accept that he was going to live his life all alone, just like he did before he went to Hogwarts.
Bringing the cup to his lips, he tipped it back and back until the whole cup was upside down on his head, but nothing dropped on his tongue from it.
Bringing it down, he looked into it and sighed, seeing not a single drop of coffee left.
This was the only thing that kept him awake, so he couldn't close his eyes and see the faces of his loved ones again.
Looking at the table beside him, he frowned at the three empty cups of coffee he had already drained.
Knowing he had to go to the kitchen now, he stood up, and just when he took his first step, his skills honed after the years of war to always be alert kicked in.
His wand was on his hand in a blink of his eyes, and he scanned the room in one swipe for any threat but found nothing.
Narrowing his eyes, he swears he felt something.
Shrugging and grudgingly accepting that maybe he was getting mad at the loneliness, Harry stepped forward again to make his way to the kitchen.
And then he felt it again.
This time Harry was sure he did feel the magical surge; in fact, he felt it rising around him.
Steeling himself, he closed his eyes to reach the edge where this magical energy was coming from.
He stayed still like that for a minute until he finally felt it again. Then his eyes opened wide, and he put a hand on his chest in shock because he couldn't believe what he was sensing.
The magical surge was coming from inside of him.
Waving his wand Harry tried everything he had in his arsenal that could help him try to understand this sizzling surge of foreign magic he could feel inside him.
But he found nothing except the fact that it was tugging on his magical core, and Harry could feel himself getting pulled somewhere.
For some reason, it felt like a port key, and at the same time, it didn’t because it was much more powerful.
He could now even see the tendril of magic spinning around him in a circle, and when he looked down, he saw the reason for what was happening to him.
He was getting pulled into a ritual, and by the looks of the runes on the circle beside him, it was a summoning ritual.
Harry knew this was now beyond him, and he could do nothing to stop it because if he did, he could lose his life.
Which he didn’t want as much as he hated it.
So, Harry decided to just accept his situation and let the ritual take him where it wanted.
His wand was already in his hand, ready to kill the person who dared summon him from his own house without his consent.
In a few seconds, he was fully covered in the vortex of magic around him, and feeling his core tugging harder than before, he closed his eyes for the journey he was about to have.
The tugging on his core stopped, and then it suddenly squeezed as Harry felt he was getting pulled into a tube like it does when he takes a portkey.
But this was much worse.
He was fighting hard, using everything he had to not succumb to the unconsciousness that threatened to pull him in.
After a few seconds, which felt like an hour to him, Harry finally felt his body again, like it should.
Even his magical core was stable again, and he knew he was finally where the runic circle was supposed to pull him.
With his senses on high alert, he opened his eyes slowly and took in his surroundings.
Which was quite hard given the fact that there was a literal dust cloud around him.
Flaring his magic, he tried to feel where he was and got a very confused reaction back.
The place felt similar, judging by the dark magic he could feel, yet it was so much different. He was so confused that he didn’t even know when the world slipped from his mouth.
“Where am I?”
But before he could ponder on that anymore, his senses alerted him to the presence of enemies in the room.
The people in the room who were still on their feet were looking in awe at the hero that had been summoned from another world.
Unfortunately, they couldn’t see his face clearly.
Which was why Dumbledore stepped forward to introduce himself to the young man, and he almost lost his life.
And only his experienced skills were able to make him role to his right, dodging the spells that were headed right at his head.
James, Lily, and Sirius, the three others who were still standing and looking at the mystery figure, were left in shock when they saw Dumbledore dodging out of the way of a spell.
Unfortunately for them, they didn’t even have the time to open their mouths to yell in concern for their leader before they were attacked as well by the person they summoned to protect them.
All three either dodged or shielded themselves, and they had to keep doing the same, as the man throwing the spells was relentless and powerful, going by the fact that Sirius had to dive after his third shield broke from one spell only.
It was almost comical that these four were among the most powerful members of the famed Order of the Phoenix who could challenge anyone, and yet here they were trying their best to save their lives from the onslaught of a single wizard.
And what they didn’t know was that they were facing the wizard, whose body was only running on caffeine.
After surviving yet another curse that would have taken his arm, Sirius suddenly remembered that he was the head of the house they were fighting in.
Harry was facing the more powerful of his current opponent on his right side with his elder wand in his right hand.
And on his left hand was his first wand, with which he was facing the other three opponents together, who were not as powerful as the first one.
Hearing the clinking sound of a wand dropping on the ground, he knew he was successful at disarming one of his opponents.
And it was the one on his left side.
Ready to take his opportunity to finish one of his enemies that summoned him here without his permission, he pointed his yew wand at the person he could feel had dropped their wand, and the spell was on the top of his mind when he heard a booming sound.
“As the head of this house, I order you to stop attacking us and drop your wand.”
Knowing it was a command from the head of the house and feeling his magic comply, Harry knew he had no other chance but to surrender for now.
But his mind was not on his defeat; instead, it was on the voice he just heard.
A voice that sounded awfully familiar to him.
With his heart beating, he turned around. With the dust cloud now gone, Harry saw with his own astonished, wide eyes that he was not imagining that voice.
That voice was familiar to him because it was from none other than his godfather.
Sirius Black
"No..." Stumbling back, Harry shook his head, muttering no’s as he refused to accept that he was seeing a man that was as close to him as a father—a man that should be very much dead.
Drifting his eyes, he turned to his right to find something that could prove that he was dreaming, but his eyes became even wider when they landed on the next person.
The gods were playing with him. Surely they were, because there was no way he was seeing the man that everyone told him he looked like.
His father was James Potter.
"This... can’t…be…. happening,” muttering Harry, who was still trying to deny the truth that was right in front of him.
But then his eyes slid to the red-haired woman who was staring at him with those soft emerald eyes of her like his and a face that he had seen in his dreams and nightmares for all his life.
And that finally did it.
The fatigue of not sleeping was four days straight, and the litter of caffeine he had taken finally kicked in, and Harry's world faded away after one last word left his lips.
“Mum?”
Comments
Hadrian v.E.
The price for Harry's kidnapping and coersion into fighting a war that isn't his should be the cucking of James and Sirius.
Michael Marquardt
Great story update please
Bouttefeux Pierre-yves
Vivement la suite, bonne histoire
Christian Velasco
I vote for veela harry but you catch my attention with this story.
Alkole
Thanks for the chapter can't wait for more. It's nice to see that they are taking it seriously and that they had a good reason to summon him and considering how shitty his life was he shouldn't be too annoyed
glen295
More!!!!
Pierrick Giannetti
Magnifique premier chapitre, j'ai tellement hâte de voir la suite 🤩 c'est un début parfait !
