Ravenclaw Tower.
The enchanted starry ceiling shimmered brilliantly overhead. The fireplace crackled warmly, illuminating faces still flushed with excitement.
"Did you smell it? Professor Quirrell's garlic scent is even stronger today!"
"I bet he went into the Forbidden Forest again. Garlic repels vampires, right?"
Eric moved calmly through the crowd.
The lively chatter, the naïve speculation of his peers, faded into indistinct background noise as it brushed past his ears.
His steps were steady. His expression unruffled.
As if he had merely attended an ordinary Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.
Only he knew—
Minutes ago, he had locked souls with the most terrifying Dark Lord of this era.
He entered his dormitory directly. The heavy wooden door clicked shut behind him, sealing off the outside world.
Silence fell.
Eric leaned against the door.
Only now did it feel as though control of his body had fully returned.
The system notification still echoed in his mind, each character seared into his consciousness.
[S+ Grade Fate Deviation Detected!]
S+.
That had been a gamble with his heart suspended over an abyss.
He had wagered on humanity—
Or rather, on inhumanity.
He had gambled that the withered soul parasitizing Quirrell's body—desperate for power and followers—would not immediately choose destruction when faced with a self-proclaimed prodigy offering admiration and "talent."
Curiosity.
Observation.
Temptation.
Those would come first.
He had won.
Within those ruby-burning serpentine eyes, beneath the tidal wave of brutality, there had been the faintest flicker of confusion.
That flicker—
Was his lifeline.
Eric closed his eyes and cut off the memory of that soul-freezing gaze.
He sank into his mind.
Into the cold, boundless system space.
There—
A platinum chest hovered silently.
Radiating heat.
A reward born of the Dark Lord himself.
The ultimate return from an S+ causal investment.
Eric did not hesitate.
His consciousness reached forward.
"Open."
Buzz—
The platinum chest burst open.
The light was fiercer than the one he had received from the Sorting Hat. A deep, noble white-gold brilliance flooded the mental space, as though igniting it entirely.
Golden streams of data poured into his mind.
[Congratulations, Host. Talent Acquired — Natural Animagus.]
His breathing halted.
Animagus.
In the wizarding world, this was a strategic-level ability.
One of the pinnacles of Transfiguration. Among the most complex magics a wizard could master.
Professor McGonagall's tabby cat form could observe Hogwarts unseen.
Peter Pettigrew's rat form allowed him to hide beside his enemies for twelve years.
Every registered Animagus possessed a second identity.
Elite combatant.
Perfect spy.
And what he had obtained was not a method.
Not notes.
Not a spell.
But "Natural."
Details unfolded before him.
[Description: The host possesses the soul-trait of an Animagus. No dangerous, failure-prone transformation training required. No need to endure holding a Mandrake leaf in the mouth for a month.]
[Upon magical maturity, the host will naturally perceive and transform into the magical form most aligned with his soul.]
Eric's fists clenched.
This eliminated enormous risk and time.
Failed Animagus transformations could result in grotesque half-beast mutations—
Or death.
He only needed to wait.
Wait for his magic and body to mature.
A perfect trump card—reserved in advance.
Not merely transformation.
But infiltration.
Reconnaissance.
Survival in impossible scenarios.
He forced his emotions down and shifted to the second reward.
If Animagus was an unexpected delight—
The second was precise compensation for his gamble.
[Congratulations, Host. Dark Magic Acquired — Soul Perception.]
His pupils contracted.
[Description: The host gains extraordinary sensitivity to soul signatures. Can distinguish traits, strength, emotional fluctuations, and… irregularities of multiple souls within a single body.]
Irregularities.
His mind snapped back to the Defense classroom.
He replayed the moment he had activated Mana Vision on Professor Quirrell.
Under the enhancement of this newly acquired passive skill—
The memory deepened.
Expanded.
As if a flat painting gained dimensional depth.
He saw—
No.
He perceived—
Inside Quirrell's trembling body, beneath the layered purple turban—
Two souls.
One—
Weak as a candle in wind.
Curled, trembling.
Radiating fear and despair.
Quirrell.
The other—
Beside it.
Parasitic.
Incomplete, yet sovereign.
Violent.
Cold.
Venomous.
A fractured soul fragment coiled like a serpent, dominating the host body utterly.
That was it.
That was what had erupted the moment he made his "investment declaration."
This was not mere possession.
It was parasitic coexistence.
Strategic value?
Immense.
This made him a unique detector against Voldemort.
No matter how many Horcruxes the Dark Lord split himself into—
Within sufficient proximity, Eric would sense that distinctive, tyrannical soul signature.
It was also leverage against Dumbledore.
The White Wizard read hearts.
Eric could read souls.
And in the thousand-year-old castle of Hogwarts—
Filled with relics steeped in ancient imprints—
This ability was unparalleled.
His thoughts accelerated.
If he could sense living souls…
What about objects bearing powerful soul traces?
For instance—
A certain lost relic hidden within Hogwarts.
Ravenclaw's Diadem.
---------------------------------------------
Author's Note:
I'm back! 💛 Thanks for waiting—I had some personal stuff to handle, but now the story continues. Your support means everything, let's dive in!