Everyone in Knockturn Alley knew Harry as Sam Keller's nephew—a quiet, hooded boy who helped out at Keller's Curios from time to time. No one really bothered him. In a place where everyone had secrets, Harry's desire to remain anonymous wasn't unusual.
He liked it that way.
Underneath the shadow of his cloak, Harry observed everything. He learned the rhythms of the alley: when the potion traders set up shop, what ingredients were in demand, and how to recognize the shady types that even Knockturn Alley residents avoided.
Sam didn't treat him like a child. He let Harry stock shelves, sort rare ingredients, and even help haggle with customers when the shop was full. Regina often handled the register, giving Harry time to explore and study.
No one in Knockturn Alley knew Harry's real name. Most called him "Little wizard", as there are all types of people living in knockturn alley, werewolves, vampires, halflings, squibs ...
That suited Harry just fine.
He always wore hooded clothes, enchanted for slight misdirection and shadow enhancement—something he'd learned to sew and charm himself. Whenever he walked alone, people avoided eye contact. That sense of mystery, of being unknown and unnoticed, thrilled him.
And besides, he thought it looked cool.
[Style Bonus: Cloak of Shadows – Equipped]
+10% Stealth in Low Light
+5 Charisma when roleplaying mysterious personas
But Harry knew this quiet phase wouldn't last much longer.
In just one week, after his birthday, he would move permanently into his new home in Knockturn Alley. The storehouse-turned-residence was finally cleaned, furnished, and heavily warded. And though he hadn't announced it, that birthday would also mark almost one full year since the day the System awakened inside him.
He still remembered it clearly—that strange glowing window in the air, the first Status screen, and the journey that followed.
Now, almost Level 13, he was stronger, faster, smarter—and far more prepared than the boy who once slept in the cupboard under the stairs.
He wasn't scared of the future anymore.
He was excited.
He was ready.
The day had finally arrived—the day Harry would leave the Dursleys for good.
It was his birthday, though nobody in Number Four, Privet Drive, remembered it… or pretended not to. As expected, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon made no mention of the date. No greetings. No acknowledgment. Just silence and the usual routine.
But Dudley, of course, hadn't forgotten.
Not to wish Harry a happy birthday—no, far from it. He barged into the kitchen that morning with an armful of brightly wrapped boxes and an arrogant grin.
"I got twenty presents this year," Dudley sneered as he dropped into a chair. "And you got… what? Oh, right. Nothing. As usual."
Harry didn't even flinch. He was already in casual new clothes, head held high. Everything he wore—shoes, trousers, T-shirt—was brand new and far better than anything the Dursleys had ever bought him.
The Dursleys noticed.
Uncle Vernon's face turned red like a furnace as he looked at Harry.
"Boy! Why are you dressed like that? Where's your school uniform?"
Harry didn't miss a beat.
"I'm not going to school anymore."
The entire kitchen froze. Petunia blinked in disbelief.
"W-What do you mean, you're not going to school anymore?" she stammered.
"I'm moving out," Harry said casually, pouring himself a glass of water. "Some people from my world are willing to take me in. What is there here for me to stay for?"
"You ungrateful brat!" Vernon roared and lunged forward.
But Harry was faster. His fingers flicked instinctively, and with a sharp crack, a Bone Spear shot past Vernon's head and embedded itself into the kitchen wall—mere inches from his ear.
The whole house fell silent.
[Bone Spear – Lv. 5]
"I didn't miss by accident," Harry said coldly, his eyes glowing faintly with magic. "And I'm just giving you what you always wanted—a life without Harry Potter."
He turned toward the door, the air humming around him.
"Don't worry. I know you'll come up with some good story about my disappearance. You're good at making things up."
The Dursleys stood frozen, speechless, and terrified.
Harry stepped out into the morning air, leaving the miserable house and the broken family behind. As he walked down the familiar pavement of Privet Drive, he didn't look back.
Harry stood at the gate of Miss Arabella Figg's house, the tabby cats in the front yard all raised their heads and meowed in unison, as if announcing his arrival.
The door opened before he could knock.
"Harry, dear!" Arabella greeted, her face both surprised and delighted. "Come in, come in!"
Harry stepped inside the familiar cottage, its walls lined with cat photos and the faint scent of biscuits lingering in the air.
He didn't waste much time.
"I'm moving out today," he said, looking her in the eyes.
Arabella froze, halfway to the kettle.
"Moving out?" she echoed. "Where to?"
"To the magical world. I've got a place now… people who care. I just wanted to let you know."
The woman stared at him for a long time before setting the kettle down and approaching him. Her expression was a mix of worry, nostalgia, and pride.
"You're your mother's son," she whispered, patting his shoulder. "She would've been proud. Just… be careful, Harry. The magical world isn't always kind."
"I know," Harry said. "You can write to me, if you want. I don't mind."
"I will," she said quickly, as if afraid he might change his mind.
She walked with him to the gate. As Harry stepped onto the pavement, he saw a familiar figure across the street.
Grandpa Theo, whom everyone knows as the gentle old man who always sat in his lawn chair reading the newspaper, looked unusually anxious. His eyes widened when he saw Harry.
"Good morning, Grandpa," Harry called out, waving casually like he always did.
The old man smiled, relief spreading over his features like sunlight chasing away clouds.
"Good morning, Harry. And… happy birthday."
Harry stopped mid-step.
Of all the people in Privet Drive, Theo—who wasn't related to him, who didn't owe him anything—was the only one to remember.
"Thanks," Harry said, genuinely touched. "Do you mind if I walk you back to your house? I wanted to talk."
The old man nodded with a grin.
"I'd like that."
The walk was slow, peaceful. For a moment, it was like any other summer morning. Birds chirped, a slight breeze rustled the hedges.
Inside Theo's neat home, the air smelled like all sort of magical ingredients combined. Harry sat across from him on the sofa.
"I'm moving away," he said. "For good. Just thought I should say goodbye to someone who actually cared."
Theo sighed, nodding slowly.
"You always had something special in you, lad. I knew it the day I saw you fix that broken garden hose just by looking at it."
"So you always knew I'm magical?" Harry asked, voice low but firm. "Why didn't you say anything?"
The old man tilted his head slightly, brow furrowed.
"What do you mean, magical?"
Theo's voice was calm, too calm—as if reciting a line.
Harry didn't buy it.
"Don't act. I know who you are… even if I don't know what you're doing here."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "You're not just some old man who feeds birds and reads papers in a lawn chair."
The air shifted.
Theo's eyes stopped twinkling like a gentle grandfather. A flicker of surprise—no, shock—flashed through his gaze. But his voice was still laced with amusement.
"Oh?"
He leaned back slightly. "Then why don't you tell me who I am?"
Harry didn't hesitate.
"You're a wizard. A necromancer."
His tone was calm. Not accusatory. Just a statement of fact.
For the first time in a long while, Theo—Teozad Umbra, as the truth whispered in Harry's mind—looked gobsmacked.
The teacup in his hand stopped mid-air. A moment later, it gently hovered down to the table without a sound.
Teozad finally spoke, his tone completely changed.
"Well… I suppose the game's up."
Harry said nothing, waiting.
"I am Teozad Umbra," the old man said, extending a hand now tinged with arcane tattoos that faded in and out like breath on glass. "And you… young man… are a surprise. A delightful, terrifying, fascinating surprise."
"What are you doing in the Muggle world?"
Harry asked, ignoring the offered handshake.
Teozad Umbra sat back down slowly on the sofa, brushing aside the last trace of illusion from his features. His eyes shimmered faintly with necrotic wisdom, and his voice carried the weight of centuries.
"I suppose… I owe you a story, don't I?"
Harry nodded, leaning forward slightly.
Teozad stared off into the distance.
"I was born before the formation of the Wizard Council. Before the laws. Before the Ministry. Back then, magic was not divided into light and dark, good and evil—it was simply magic. And the most respected among us… were those who had mastered death."
Harry said nothing, listening carefully.
"Lucian Peverell was my teacher," Teozad said with a hint of pride. "He was one of the greatest death mages to ever live. It is said the Peverells had Death's favor. He taught me how to harness necrotic currents, how to command spirits, how to bring order to the chaos of the soul."
His voice darkened.
"But death magic… is not kind to the weak or the reckless. One mistake, and you lose your body, or worse—your mind. Cursed to linger forever, trapped between this world and the next."
A brief silence followed.
"After I mastered what I could, I took on an apprentice. A bright one. Ambitious. Too ambitious. His name was Ares Blackfyre of Kent."
"He was brilliant," Teozad continued, "but impatient. He ignored warnings, attempted forbidden rituals alone… and suffered for it. He was cursed—transformed into something monstrous. His soul twisted and fragmented. He attacked everyone. Killed innocents. And I… I was forced to imprison him. Right here. Long before there was a settlement here."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"So all this time… you stayed here? Just to make sure he never escaped?"
Teozad nodded slowly.
"That prison was built with blood sigils, ancient runes, and wards powered by my own life force. But recently… I felt something. A shift. A pull. I think he escaped."
Harry took a deep breath and said the words carefully.
"You don't have to worry. I killed him."
Teozad blinked.
"That's impossible."
"He came after me… as part of a cursed necromancer," Harry said. "I destroyed him. And I got this."
He pulled out the mithril sword, its black-silver edge gleaming faintly with death energy, and then the Gringotts vault key, the one retrieved from the cursed necromancer's loot.
Teozad's eyes widened. He stood, staggered back half a step, then slowly reached out and touched the sword's blade with trembling fingers.
"Lucian's blade," he whispered. "And Ares' key… It's true."
Teozad looked at Harry again, this time not as a child or even a student—but as an equal.
"You've done what I could not. You ended his suffering. You closed the chapter I left open for centuries…"
He paused, then smiled with quiet gratitude.
"Thank you, Harry Potter."
Harry gave a small nod. He wasn't entirely sure how to respond, but a sense of satisfaction welled up in his chest.
"What happens now?" Harry asked.
Teozad looked up at the sky, as if searching for an answer.
"Now… I am free. And so are you."
A notification softly glowed in the corner of Harry's vision:
[Quest Completed: Find the secrets of Teozad Umbra]
You have discovered the history of Teozad Umbra.
+1500 EXP
+5 Free Skill Points
+25 Stat Points
+Reputation Boost: "Feared by the Forgotten"
New Title Unlocked: "Bearer of the Black Flame"
New Item Gained: [Teozad's Legacy Trunk]
You Leveled Up!
[Level 13 → 14]
Stat Points to Distribute: +25
Skill Points to Spend: +5
Teozad turned to him, hands trembling slightly, but his expression was one of peace.
"This… was the final tether binding me to this land. My duty is fulfilled."
From inside his long black cloak, he pulled out a strange, rune-engraved black trunk that pulsed faintly with magic.
"This belonged to my master. It has no bottom, and it recognizes its master's magic. Inside, you will find tools and texts on all sort of magic, many of which are outlawed… Use it as you see fit. But treat death magic with the respect it demands."
Harry took the trunk with both hands. The magic sealed within it thrummed against his fingertips like a living heartbeat.
[Item Acquired: Teozad's Legacy Trunk]
Type: Legendary Container
Description: A bottomless magical trunk enchanted with Protection and Dimensional magic. Contains books, potions, soul crystals, bones, and sealed scrolls of forgotten magic.
Feature: Auto-sorting, Soul-Lock Security, and a training chamber with built-in illusion simulators.
Requirement: Level - Mage. Title - Bearer of the Black Flame.
"What are you going to do now?" Harry asked.
Tiozad gave a faint smile and said, just before dark smoke began to curl around his body,
"Not all dark wizards want to dominate the world, Harry. Some of us only wish to practice our art in peace."
With a swirl of smoky energy and an ancient teleportation seal, Tiozad Umbra vanished, leaving behind only the black trunk—and a deep silence.
Harry stood in the middle of the small garden, the mithril sword on his back and the trunk in his hands, feeling the legacy of centuries press gently on his shoulders.
Another notification blinked in the corner of his vision.
[Special Achievement Unlocked: Inheritor of Forbidden Knowledge]
+1 Free Necromancer-exclusive Skill Unlocked upon next level-up
+Bonus quest chain unlocked: "The Tomb of Lucian Peverell" (Level 20+)
Harry smiled, whispering to himself.
"Level 14… and counting."