A Gift From Above

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A Gift From Above

Post by StabbyKobold » Wed Oct 21, 2020 1:28 pm

Fanfics based on power fantasies are neither few nor far in-between. You might not always recognize them as such from a glance, but occasionally you find those that don’t just hint at it, they outright promote themselves on it. This is A Gift from Above by Viole Jyu Grace, a Harry Potter fanfic in which the titular protagonist is endowed with incredible powers. By whom, you might ask? Why, God, of course. Only he isn’t given divine powers, no, he’s given a demon heritage straight out of Devil May Cry. Try to wrap you head around that logic as we delve into this religiously confused mess. Enjoy.


Chapter 1: Prologue: The Beginning of a Badass

Summary: Tossed out the Dursley's house at the young age of 5, Harry Potter doesn't know what he's going to do.

But I bet the police will. You think a five-year-old would be allowed to walk around homeless, author?

Finding pity on him for giving him such a fate, the gods decide to give Harry power beyond his wildest dreams. Now armed with crazy power, Harry will raise himself to become a certified bad ass.

Divine intervention just because his family are assholes? Why aren’t orphanages full of kids with super powers, then?

"Harry Potter? Wrong, the name is Hadrian Sparda." Badass!OP!Harry Harry/MassHarem Major Crossover

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any crossovers used in this story

Yes, the harem will include characters from crossovers.

I wasn’t asking, but oh boy was I assuming.


Prologue: The Beginning of a Badass

(Heaven, July 31st 1985)

Oh. Okay. Why not? As good a starting point as any, I guess. Also, what?

Heaven. The holy kingdom all souls hope to arrive to at the time of their death. A place where the dead are finally at peace and united, and may talk with family and friends who have passed to the next world. And at the top of Heaven, was where the Gods resided.

Contrary to the Bible's opinion, there was more than one true God.

I thought that was what the Trinity thing was about, but I’ll let you and the Christians work that one out.

There were many Gods, all from the different mythologies spoken of throughout history. Egyptian, Greek, Aztec, Persian, and many more. However, they were all united under one God. He had no name, he did not need it, he was simply referred to as 'God' or 'The Holy One'.

One might even call him “the one true God”, huh?

Right now, God was in distress during a meeting between them all. Zeus, who headed his sub-section of Gods and led them during the Greek era, was speaking. "The problems in the world are diminishing," he told his fellow divine beings. "Crime rates are dropping, criminals are being imprisoned, and while a few mistakes are made here and there, I believe we are on the way to peace at last."

If you say so, Zeus. I mean, the Cold War was just such a small event; barely anyone took notice of that little thing. Oh, and those terrorist attacks and civil wars, some of them even religiously based, that happened just within the past five years? Absolute snooze fest, no one would care at all.

"Rubbish!" Ra, the head of the Egyptian Gods, spoke up. "Humans have not changed their ways! If they had, then demons would not be able to tempt them still! It will still be a few billion years before they actually start to learn!"

As the gods bickered and argued, one woman- Zeus' wife- noticed the distress of The Holy One. "My lord?" she spoke up. "You look rather depressed. Is everything alright?" Her words drew the attention of the other gods, who looked to him and noticed that he was in fact looking very dim. It was the first time many of them had seem him look so upset.

Going by descriptors for God so far, he can be very dim, and presumably the opposite of that. Until I hear otherwise, he’s basically a divine light bulb.

God looked up at all of them, and the sadness in his eyes was very clear. There were a few moments of silence before he spoke up. "My friends," he said gently in a sad voice. "I have...horrible, terrible news..."

"What is it?" Quetzalcoatl, the wisdom god of Aztec times asked him. "What news is so grave that it troubles you?"

Looking over them, The Holy One sighed. "As you all know," he spoke in a soft voice.

As you all know, the line “as you all know” is just about the most contrived way of starting a conversation, which is meant to be informing the audience, rather than anyone who already knows what is happening. Now, how much of a factor is this contrivance multiplied with, when it is spoken to a boardroom full of supposedly omniscient beings?

"4 years ago, the world saw the death of the Dark Wizard of England, Voldemort. While his body lived through Horcruxes, his body was destroyed, and he would live on and recover, only to be truly defeated again by the child who destroyed his body: Hadrian James Potter."

"Of course sir," the Persian god of war and light, Verethragna spoke. "You made the decision long ago, despite how much it tore your heart to have the child placed with his non-magical relatives and their cruelty."

Oh yeah, I’m sure God had no choice in the matter - it was completely out of his all-mighty hands.

God nodded. "Yes...and now I realize how truly grave the mistake was. I intended for young Hadrian- or Harry as he seems to be known to the magical side of the world- to be raised by his Aunt and Uncle. While they would hate him, they would not abuse or hurt him, merely make him do chores around the house, and deprive him of food. However, fate is ever changing, something that has been made clear to me once again tonight. Not half an hour ago...Harry was thrown out of the home by his Uncle, telling him that he had enough of 'living under the same roof as a freak' and young Hadrian is now homeless..."

It was suddenly so quiet that a pin drop could have been heard, before there were yells of outrage from many at the table. "Just like I said!" Ra hissed. "Humans shall never learn!"

One five-year-old is put on the streets, and all humanity is judged as a mistake. Listen, I get that this is a Harry Potter story and all, but could the author be bothered to inform us as to why all deities in existence cares about this kid specifically?

"We should send dementors!" a god called out.

"Make them suffer!" a female one hissed out.

There was yelling for awhile before God finally raised his voice. "ENOUGH!" Instantly, there was silence. "We are NOT punishing his relatives! They will get their just dues when their time comes. I am sure Hades, Osiris, and the other underworld gods shall have plenty to deal out to them. Right now, we must focus on Harry. We cannot leave him to an orphanage. We made that mistake with Tom Riddle and look how he turned out. No...I just...do not know what to do..."


That’s rich. Big G is at a loss of what to do with a homeless child. As if the situation has never happened before, or that there isn’t an obvious solution to it all. I mean, for fuck sake, Moses went through this shit - how is this so hard for the owner of cloud penthouse number one?!

Once more, there was silence. Before finally, Verethragna spoke up. "My lord...may I propose something?"

God sighed. "Proceed."

Why, yes, Verethragna, Zoroastrian god of victory and strength, which I had to spend ten minutes of research figuring out who you even were, what do you have to say?

"Why not make the boy our Champion?" Verethragna suggested. Everyone looked to him in surprise, but he held up his hand. "As we know, there are many, many alternate universes, and different worlds out there. While we are gods, we can only do so much intervention, and people are always challenging us. I suggest we take young Harry and give him the power to not only save this world, but also make him our Champion and send him on missions to all others. And with each mission he completes, we shall give him a new power as well. We shall start off with one power, and give him a few missions once he reaches 11 to get more powers. On top of that, we return the soul fragment in his head to the person it belongs to. It won't alter anything, just save us time."

Or you could just put him in a different home, with a family that won’t abuse him unlike your initial plan, but whatever.

"And how do we know he won't abuse this power?" Ra demanded.

Verethragna gave Ra a small smile. "Because, Ra, the boy grew for four years in a home where he was hated, without a real reason to live. Do you really believe he will be able to turn against the people who will give him a home, power, and purpose?"

Seeing as you all were responsible for putting him there? YES!

Nobody said anything for awhile, as Verethragna made good points. Eventually Artemis- the Moon Goddess of Greece- spoke up. "And just what will stop him from becoming like every other man out there?" she spat out the word 'man' with venom.

Author projection, mostly.

Verethragna sighed at Artemis. "Oh stop being so stuck up Artemis," he told her. "There are women out there who are just as bad as the 'men' you hate so much, or need I mention Bellatrix Lestrange?" Artemis flinched at the mention of her.

Need I argue that gender should have nothing to do with the quality of a person? It would seem so.

"And to answer your question," Quetzalcoatl spoke up. "He won't end up like that because I think I know something we can give him. I suggest that we allow him time with his parents, a single day to spend with them each year, so they can raise him and instruct him."

In other words, he’ll have less than a week’s worth of a normal childhood before going to Hogwarts. How generous of you, oh movers of the universe, praise be!

All the gods mumbled, discussing it, before finally the Holy One spoke. "I agree with this plan, presented by Verethragna and Quetzalcoatl," he told them all. "Let us put it to a vote. All in favour of granting great power to Hadrian from many dimensions, and rights to yearly time with his parents? As well as to sending Riddle's Soul Fragment to his Wraith Form?" Most of the gods raised their arms. "All those opposed?" Only Artemis, Ra, and Loki raised their arms. "Then it is decided! Hadrian James Potter shall be given power, and shall be allowed yearly time with his parents!"

Uh, how about we vote on just killing this Voldemort guy? Seems like a smart thing to do, you know? Hello?!

"This now only leaves the question of what power to give him first," Athena, the Greek Wisdom Goddess, told everyone.

Verethragna grinned. "Oh I already have a power in mind that will be useful to him not only in the long run, but will make sure he has an incredibly strong body."

I guess the gods don’t frown on steroid abuse.

"Proceed, Verethragna," God told him.

The Persian god nodded. "My fellow divine beings! There is one specific type of monster out there we inadvertently created when we banished some of our own, and they have populated and grown stronger. In the past, they have proven to be nothing more than a nuisance to us. However, the past has also proven that some of these creatures are capable of love, one even going so far as to seal away the rest of his kind to protect the human world and the woman he loved.

"Tell me, my fellow gods," Verethragna said with a grin. "What do you know about the Demon Knight Sparda?"

Do the gods know anything, or do they spend all their time in Heaven just listening to info dumps?


(Streets of Little Whinging, Surrey. August 1st 1985)

Harry Potter, age 5, didn't know what he was going to do.

The education system is putting out career questionnaires early, I see.

It had all started yesterday, on his birthday, which once more went uncelebrated. He knew it would, but he would live with it. He always had, he'd just wish himself a Happy Birthday to himself quietly before he went to bed, as usual. However, this Birthday would turn out to be awful.

The day had begun as normal, Harry had awoken at 5 o'clock sharp, and made himself something small to eat before anybody else awoke, and ate it quickly, before washing and drying everything incredibly quietly. He then went into the back garden and trimmed the grass and watered the plants. Then he did Dudley's homework that had been assigned to him by his teacher. By the time he was done with these things it was half six, and he began to cook everyone's breakfast.

Assuming that’s half past six, I still don’t see a five-year-old setting speed records for household chores. Couldn’t he have done some of that at any other time of day?

He started by turning on the kettle and making his uncle a mug of coffee, not too hot, but not too cold, with exactly 3 tea spoons of sugar, and not a gram more. Once it was done, he placed it on the table just as his uncle arrived. He then immediately began to set to work on making breakfast; 5 eggs, 4 strips of bacon, and 4 slices of toast for his uncle, double that for his cousin, and half of his uncle's amount for his aunt.

After this, he would then get the mail and hand all of it to his uncle without question, as well as the newspaper.

Why would he have questions about the mail? I’d be surprised if he could read any of it yet.

And as he did so, his aunt and his cousin would come downstairs. His aunt would look at him with indifference, while Dudley would smile at him smugly. Harry hated it, but he put up with it.

After they'd all eaten, the three of them would go out, and Harry would do all the necessary chores of the house: making the beds; cleaning Dudley's roo; doing the dishes; wiping down the table; cleaning the attic; and so on and so forth.

It was later that night however, that Harry's life forever changed.

What did J.K. Rowling say on Twitter this time?!

Harry had just finished serving the Dursley's dinner, and was washing the dishes, when Dudley made a nasty comment about his parents, not that Harry knew them anyway. But Harry was angry. It was his Birthday, and how dare Dudley EVER say anything against his parents!

And so the plot begins because of a “Yo mama” joke.

It was then that Dudley yelled in pain. When Harry turned to look, he saw his aunt was pale, and his uncle was going purple in the face. He looked at Dudley and saw why. Dudley was suddenly sporting a huge gash along his arm, and while not life threatening, was dripping a lot of blood. His uncle looked towards him and yelled at him- Harry had no clue why- before yelling at him, "I WILL NO LONGER LIVE UNDER THIS ROOF WITH A FREAK!" at which point he had promptly shoved all his things in a suitcase, and thrown it out the house, along with Harry.

Because he totally wouldn’t lock Harry in the cupboard and get Dudley to the hospital first, not at all.

And so here Harry was, sitting on the side of the street the next day, shaking and shivering in the cold as the rain battered down overhead. He had taken refuge under a tree, but Harry knew he wasn't going to last long. He had no food, and had eaten nothing the entire day or for dinner the night before. And so, desperate, Harry did something he'd only heard of being done before.

He contacted the police? Or a neighbor? Or anyone on the street, who would likely drop everything in their hands to help a fucking homeless five-year-old?

He prayed.

I’m feeling a bit tempted myself, right now.

"Dear God in Heaven..." Harry whispered softly. "I know that we haven't spoken before, and I know you may not hear me, but I am praying to you because I am so lost. If you are real and can help me then please...please give me a sign that everything is going to be okay..."

Harry didn't realize just how clear the sign would be for him.

On a scale from vague feelings to Jesus burnt into toast, how clear are we talking?

The clouds parted as the moon shone high above him. The clouds were pushed away to the sides, as if people were forcing them to move. As he continued to stare at the moon, he saw a figure. He couldn't make it out at first, but as it got closer he was able to see it.

It was a man, but one of high status. He was dressed in white and golden robes, and let out an aura that Harry couldn't help but feel comfortable with. He wasn't able to clearly describe his face, as it seemed to be constantly shifting, along with his hair. What caught Harry's eye however was the ever present smile on his ever changing face.

Near death hallucinations brought on by severe pneumonia, gotcha.

"Hello Hadrian," he said as he landed in front of Harry. His voice was light and regal, but it also sounded somewhat tired. "I hoped I would not see you for a long time, since you are so young."

Harry stared at the man in shock before he whispered a single word. "God?"

The man nodded. "Yes Hadrian," he spoke again in his regal voice. "I am the one who you refer to as 'God'. While not unpleasant, I am upset we had to meet this soon."

But not as upset as every member of currently existing religions, if they learnt that God decided to appear only to some random five-year-old after his two millennia hiatus.

"Are...are you here to take me to mommy and daddy?" Harry said with hope in his voice. Harry didn't know much about his parents, but what he did know was that they were dead. Maybe with some luck, God was here to take him to be with his family.

To his dismay, God shook his head. "No Hadrian, but you will be able to see them," he promised, which caught Harry's interest. "No Hadrian, I am here to make you an offer."

"An offer?" Harry tilted his head.

I thought that was the business practice of the guy downstairs.

The Holy One gave Harry a small smile. "Yes Hadrian. You see, I have watched your life, and while I am God, I am unable to directly intervene, and so the best I could do was try to lessen your hardships. However, the cruel spawn of man known as the Dursleys are truly twisted, and kicked you out. I came here to make you an offer Hadrian. Would you like to hear it?"

Harry considered it, but his five year old mind wasn't that clever. It came to a conclusion though: it really couldn't hurt to hear him out.

Depends on whether not this is the God that wants to take a knife to your foreskin.

"Okay...I'd like to hear it."

God smiled. "The offer is quite simple Hadrian. There are many worlds out there, you see. So many that it is quite hard to believe the amount. I am a God, and I rule over the worlds with other gods, but there are some worlds that we sometimes miss, or are in such a bad state there is just not enough we can do. That is where this offer comes in Hadrian. Simply put, we gods want you to be our champion."

Because an entire pantheon couldn’t be bothered to keep track, and despite being unable to do anything for these worlds, they can make someone else able to do something about them. Sounds more like they need a bookkeeper.

Harry's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, before God stopped him. "Allow me to explain the details first please. The benefits of this are simple. The first is we shall provide to you money until you are 11, at which point you will have access to your family accounts- no talking, we will get to that when you are older- food, and a nice home for you to enjoy life. The second benefit is that once a year, on any day you choose, you may have one day with the spirits of your parents, so they may guide and raise you a little bit.

“It will totally stunt your mental growth and leave a void in your childhood that can never be filled; but hey, you’ll be the chosen one!

"The next benefit is that we shall grant you powers. You shall start off with only one power, however once you turn 11 we shall start to give you tasks, which will usually require you having mastery over your current power, or near mastery, to be able to do. Once you complete the task, you shall be given another power to train with and master."

The young five year old looked positively thrilled at all these benefits, and was about to say yes right away, before God stopped him. "Now...the down sides," God said gravely.

I have yet to see a fanfic author present any perceivable detriment when sprinkling super powers onto their power fantasy. They are either negligible or comes with a failsafe clause to prevent the protagonist from not having fun. I don’t imagine this will be any different.

"The first of which is that, upon completing a very specific task in this world, you shall be given immortality limited immortality, meaning you shall never die of old age or natural causes, however you can die in a fight. This is a downside as it means anyone you care about shall die long before you, and unless you are killed or kill yourself, you shall never see them in heaven, though as you fulfil more tasks, we shall allow you to visit them.

Meaning he’ll eventually be able to meet his loved ones again, or he’ll die trying and see them anyway. Next!

"Another downside has to do with your DNA. While we are not taking away relations to your parents and other peoples, it has to do with your humanity," God took a breath. "Tell me Hadrian, what do you know of demons?"

Harry stared before tilting his head. "I...think they are monsters?"

God smiled sadly. "Close Hadrian. Demons are beings that reside in a place called the Demon World, which is parallel to all worlds. The Demon World was sealed away long ago by a pure-blooded demon by the name of Sparda. The reason he did this was because he fell in love with a human woman, and he wanted to protect the world she lived in, and all it's people. He was a Demon with a human heart.

Are you suggesting that the Dursley’s don’t have human hearts, or am I messing up your anatomy deficient analogy?

"The reason I tell you about this, is because the first change that shall happen to you shall turn you into a half demon," God said gravely. "We shall use Sparda's DNA to alter half of your DNA and turn you into a half demon, making you not only Sparda's son, but also your human parents. I understand you may want to think about thi-"

"I accept," Harry told God without hesitation, surprising the man.

"Why?" God couldn't help but ask.

Dude, Yahweh, Big G, Sky Daddy, you presented literally no downside other than Harry’s own preconception of demons, and then proceeded to inform him about a demon that was practically a saint. Whatever detriment the author purports this to be, it doesn’t fucking exist. Do I hear a third inconvenience in the attempt to balance out divine omnipotence?! Anything?!

Harry just smiled. "This...Sparda doesn't sound bad at all...he just sounds a little misunderstood is all. You said he was a Demon, but...but he fought for his wife right? To protect any kids he had? And everyone else in the world? It means he was fighting for me too. So I accept."

God wanted to sigh at Harry's clear early maturity, but instead he smiled. "Very well Hadrian. Being half demon shall grant you several powers. First, you shall have an incredible regeneration, and a long life span. You shall also be able to live many injuries a normal person would not be able to, such as a bullet to the head, or a sword through your stomach. Along with this, you shall be gifted with a special weapon from one of Sparda's real blooded sons, known as Yamato. A word of warning. Yamato is so sharp it can cut through anything, even dimensions. It is how you shall be travelling through dimensions once he we give the OK.

Although I played the first game, I never really got on the Devil May Cry bandwagon. What I get from the literary pond scum of the fanfic community suggests that Vergil was popular enough, that his sword and entire move-set became fetishized for wish fulfilment, almost more so than Dante’s. If super powers were fanfic spices, theirs would be salt and pepper.

"Along with this, you have the ability to harvest the souls of demons you defeat into weapons to use called 'Devil Arms'. You shall also have another power called 'Devil Trigger' but more on that when you unlock it," God said.

Harry grinned. "Cool! But...why do you keep calling me Hadrian?"

Now you ask?!

The Holy One sighed. "Because that is your full name Hadrian. Harry is a shortened version of your name, but your true name is Hadrian James Potter. Now..." he put his finger to Harry's forehead, and the boy who lived became dizzy. "Sleep now child, when you awake, all shall be well." Those were the last words Harry heard before his world went black.



(? London. August 2nd, 1985)

Harry groaned softly as he woke up, holding his head. "Owie..." he mumbled. "My head hurts...that was a nice dream though..." the blurriness faded from his eyes as he looked around and gasped. He was in a comfortable bed in his own room, with it designed just like how he'd always imagined it. He climbed out of bed and walked out, to find it seemed he had his own house too! "It wasn't a dream!" he cheered. He began to jump when he noticed his reflection in the mirror and stopped.

His appearance had changed. His skin was a shade paler than it used to be, leaving him looking like he hadn't seen the Sun in quite awhile, which was true so it wasn't too bad. His formerly black hair was now silver and straight. It was also a little longer than it used to be, reaching half way down his neck. The biggest change however was to his right eye. Once an emerald green, it was now a light blue with a silver hue to it.

For a god unable to intervene in things prior, this seems like a pretty big intervention, doesn’t it?

"Woah..." Harry breathed as he looked at himself. He lifted his hair and his eyes widened a little at what he saw. His scar, once clear as day, was now so faded you'd have to have your eyeball pressed against Harry's forehead to notice it. "Are these the side effects of being half demon?" he wondered aloud. Shrugging, Harry began to explore the house, something he'd never really been allowed to do with the Dursleys.

Soon enough, Harry eventually ventured down to the basement, and he gasped at what he saw. It was one huge training room. God had clearly given him a place to hone and train his skills when not on missions, something Harry would definitely make sure to do...once he'd gotten something to eat.

And I’ll give a fuck, once my suspension of disbelief has recovered from its long ago contracted case of rigor mortis.

Leaving the basement, he headed to the kitchen and soon found a letter on the table, as well as a sheathed sword. Being the five year old he was, he immediately grabbed the sword first. Slowly drawing the O-katana, Harry marvelled at the blade. It was beautiful in every sense of the word, he didn't quite know how to explain its beauty, and yet he knew this weapon was incredibly deadly despite how it looked.

Then like the five year old he was, he immediately began waving it around and ended up hurting himself.

Sheathing the weapon and putting it on the desk, Harry grabbed the letter and opened it.

'Dear Hadrian,

Hey there kid! Sorry I couldn't stick around and chat, but we gods are busy people, but I'm sure we'll have plenty of chances to do that in the future! To prevent you needing to read too much, I'll just say I'm the messenger of the gods and get to the good stuff.

As I'm sure you've noticed, your dulling eyesight has cleared, and a few changes have been made to your appearance.

Because any flaws, physical or otherwise, cannot be allowed to get in the way of the “good stuff” the author has planned.

That has to do with you becoming a half demon. You received the hair colour of Sparda since demon genes are stronger than human ones, and one of your eyes changed too so you have a bigger link to him. The weapon on the table, which I'm sure you already looked at, is the Yamato, one of the strongest demon weapons ever. We're trusting you not to abuse its power and to master it, since it is very dangerous otherwise.

You’re handing a dangerous weapon to a child, and you expect they will master it on their own, much less not endanger themselves? Why not give him a set of car keys and a gun while you’re at it?

Now, in your room under your pillow is a credit card that has £1,000,000 pounds in it. This has to support you until you reach 11, so spend it wisely, though there should be enough in there to give you some pleasantries. Do NOT waste it. This is only warning you'll get, and if you waste it all on silly things then you will have to make money on your own.

FIVE. YEARS. OLD. How is he going to make purchases much less earn any money?

Spending your money wisely will be made easier since you will not have to pay bills like electricity bills, but you will have to pay for internet bills of you wish to get a computer or things like that.

Internet? Oh yeah, I’m sure he’ll be paying so many bills towards that, just as soon as it comes to England in FOUR YEARS! Study some goddamn history, author.

Also, your fridge and cupboards will be restocked with food every week. We shall not give you sweets, you have to buy those on your own, we shall be providing you healthy and nutritious food so you can grow big and strong.

Anyway, that'll be all kid. We all wish you the best of luck in your training and life, so don't mess up!

We're counting on you,

Hermes, Greek Messenger of the Gods.'

More like God of Glorified Post-it Notes.

Harry stared at the leader, reading it several times, before he smiled widely. This was great! Not only would he have plenty of food and his own house, but he could even have the pleasantries he'd always been jealous Dudley got! Heck, even MORE than that! It was almost too good to be true.

It’s certainly too true to be almost good.

As Harry thought about all the things he would be receiving, he made a decision. He needed a new name. Harry James Potter wasn't here anymore, it was time for him to step forward with a new name to symbolize his new life.

He only needed a few seconds before he grinned. "So long Harry Potter...say hello world, because Hadrian Sparda is here!"

Everybody welcome the author’s OC wearing a Harry Potter skinsuit! Or what’s left of one.


I’m not a believer in any religion, but even if I was, I don’t think I would take any offense at this fanfic. It’s silly and self-indulgent, but aside from painting polytheism with broad strokes, nothing really terrible has happened yet. We’ll have to see what next chapter does with the established premise, but unless we take a hard turn into Catholic choirboy scandals, I don’t see my temper rising above room temperature.

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Re: A Gift From Above

Post by StabbyKobold » Fri Dec 18, 2020 10:42 am

Harry has had a spiritual awakening. Well, more like spiritual empowerment. Scratch that, demonic empowerment that was divinely granted. And now he has to collide with a plot point that many a Harry Potter fanfic has charted before - the Diagon Alley shopping trip. It’s a long one, so let’s dispense with the pleasantries and move right along. Enjoy.


Chapter 2: Chapter 1: I'm a Wizard? Awesome

I’m developing a new pet peeve here. A whole lot of authors insists on labelling their opening chapter as a “prologue”, regardless of its actual format or size. This causes every subsequent chapter to be mislabeled by fanfiction.net, and I have to make the decision whether to abide by the locked structure of the medium, or the harebrained decisions of someone publishing their vivid imaginings for the world to see. I’m picking the former here to illustrate this point, and because this story isn’t worth me caring.

Summary: Tossed out the Dursley's house at the young age of 5, Harry Potter doesn't know what he's going to do. Finding pity on him for giving him such a fate, the gods decide to give Harry power beyond his wildest dreams. Now armed with crazy power, Harry will raise himself to become a certified bad ass. "Harry Potter? Wrong, the name is Hadrian Sparda." Badass!OP!Harry Harry/MassHarem Major Crossover

This is another rapidly gestating pet peeve of mine. Calling something a crossover, when the author simply nabs whatever they deem cool or beneficial and discards the rest. Claiming this story is a crossover, is like claiming Family Guy is a crossover show, because it exploits other franchises for quick and easy payoffs.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any crossovers used in this story


Chapter 1: I'm A Wizard? Awesome

Right, I’m totally convinced that being a wizard would at all be impressive compared to being the sole beneficiary of every deity in existence.

(? London, July 1st, 1991)



(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Come to think of that, it was the church that persecuted witchcraft back in the day. Was Harry’s new benefactors just sitting with their thumbs up their holy asses during the entirety of human history?

Enclosed in this letter is a list of all necessary books and equipment you shall require for your first year.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

As Hadrian Nero Sparda read through the letter, a grin split on his face.

I feel like splitting mine with a fist. What is it with fanfiction protagonist naming conventions and injecting middle names for extra cool points? This on top of a name already constructed to be “better” than what the character had before? There isn’t even a reason for Harry to have a new name, he just decided he wanted one.

"So this is what they meant by being careful with money 'till I was 11," he said aloud, amusement dancing in his dual coloured eyes.

Within the 5- near 6- years Harry had changed greatly. His silver hair had grown slightly longer, and was swept back, putting more emphasis on his face, while he had also grown to a good height for his age. He was 4 feet 8 in height, and his body, while not ripped or even muscled, was very strong due to his training and healthy diet. His skin was still just as pale as it was when he'd first made the change from full human to half demon.

He’s pasty skinned, scrawny, and looks like he stole his big sister’s hair products.

In terms of clothing, Harry wore a long, silver buttoned blue coat with three separated coattails. A white, serpentine pattern ran around the collar, with a snakes head hanging over the coat's left shoulder, and its tail slinking down the right, all the way to the bottom of the coat. A gold lining ran across the edges of the coat, and a silky, golden flower blossom pattern decorated the inner lining.

Underneath the coat, Hadrian wore a black, sleeveless vest that revealed his arms. He wore tan, fingerless gloves, a brown, snakeskin belt with a silver buckle, dark green pants with a scale pattern running across its surface, and tall, brown boots with two golden buckled straps at the top.

On what day, other than Halloween, would anyone not laugh at the display of an eleven-year-old dressing up like this? I have no doubts that the author’s videogame idol can pull off the look, but kids Harry’s age wear jumpers and t-shirts, not dress coats and vests that show off the guns they don’t have.

He read the letter several times, before a small smirk broke out over his face. The way Harry saw it, he was presented with two options before him. The first, was to say no to this letter. To not attend Hogwarts in any capacity, and completely ignore the magical world as a whole.

The second option was to say yes to this letter, and attend Hogwarts, learning magic, and involving himself in the magical world, as well as claim his inheritance once he turned 11, as his parents told him they wanted him to do if they died. They never told him he was a wizard though, which he would definitely be questioning them about next year.

The author was presented with two options: To write something the least bit logical, interesting, unique, and clever; or this.

The answer was obvious. With a smirk on his face, Harry began to write a return letter.

Dear Professor McGonagall,

First and foremost, I wish to personally thank you for sending me this letter. For nearly 6 years, strange things have happened around me during times of emotional distress, and this has answered many questions I have had concerning these strange things. Of all the things I speculated, being a Wizard was rather low on my list, so once more, I thank you.

Then what the hell did he think it was? God working in mysterious ways to fuck with him? Why wouldn’t he ask his parents, and why would they not tell him?! Would there happen to be a god of plotholes helping Harry out?

I am also pleased to tell you that I shall definitely be attending Hogwarts this year, and most likely until I am eventually required to leave. I will ask for instructions on how I am to get to Hogwarts on the first of term however, as I have grown independent over the years, and would like to do things of my own. Of course, I mean no offence to any members of staff who take students to Hogwarts, I merely wish to take the first real step into this new world on my own, which I hope you will understand.

For a guy dressed for the attention, you’re rather quick to preemptively turn it away.

Once more, I thank you for this letter.

Yours sincerely,

Hadrian Sparda

With a smirk, Harry folded up the letter and slipped it in an envelope. He then pulled a single, rather large gold coin out of his back pocket and put it on the envelope. "Hermes! Think you could deliver this letter for me?" His request was answered as both the envelope and the gold coin vanished. "Thanks!" With that done, Harry grabbed the list enclosed in the envelope and began to look through it.

The divine messenger works for tips, I guess. At what point prior to this would Harry have needed to send letters to anyone? All his sugar daddies and mommies in Heaven should be reachable through prayer, and I don’t imagine the gods left a loophole to let him be penpalling with his dead parents. In case you don’t get it, author, I’m asking for fucking establishment!

"Hmm...Diagon Alley?" he questioned. "It says here I will need to go to somewhere called the Leaky Cauldron...in London?" he grinned. "So easy, I'll just take a bus down there on my Birthday so I can legally accept my inheritance." With decided, Harry grabbed Yamato from the table before he headed down to the training room, eager to polish off some moves he'd developed over the years.

There is an untold number of gods dedicated to warfare and combat, but still Harry has just been winging his own sword practice all these years? We haven’t really been told otherwise, all we know it that the gods stuck him in a house and called it a day. Do the aspirations of the plot really have to be as amateurish as the writing?


(Leaky Cauldron, London July 31st 1991)

Harry stepped out the bus, smirking as he walked down the street. He carried Yamato with him, of course he did, but he kept it in a large back usually used for extra clothing. He walked confidently with the sun shining down on him, as if guiding his path.

Considering the existence of sun gods, how can you say that it isn’t?

Walking into the pub, which for some reason he felt a weird inclination to walk past, he headed straight to the counter and at the bar tender. "Hello," he said as politely as he could.

The man looked down at him. "Yeah kid?"

"Know how to get into Diagon Alley?" Harry asked him.

If he was surprised, he didn't react. "New kid to pick up your stuff?" Harry nodded. "Where are your parents?"

"Dead," Harry shrugged. "I'm an orphan, only found out about the magical world at the start of the month when I got my Hogwarts letter. I lived in the area so I decided it'd be easier to learn where this place is now and buy everything alone. I know who my parents were, and they left me some gold."

Normally, I’d complain about how no kid would talk like this. But the fact is that Harry’s parents are dead, and he, as the only person we know of, is not inconvenienced by this. Death provides him no loss, and he barely has a reason to fear it. It makes perfect sense for him to talk like this, and I hate it.

The man nodded at him slowly. "Well I imagine we'll be seeing each other a fair amount then. The name's Tom, and I own this place. As for Diagon Alley, head out back to a brick wall. You tap the bricks in a certain way and it opens up to the alley. Need me to show you or can I just tell you?"

Harry thought about it for only a second, "Just tell me, saves us both time. And as they say, time is money."

You think it’s faster for him to explain the location and sequence of the bricks you have to tap in a wall full of bricks, rather than him walking you to the wall and showing you? Do you not know how time works, author, or did you just want to waste mine by forcing in an idiom?

Tom gave the half demon a smirk. "I think we'll get along fine kid," he then told Harry the sequence and pointed to the door that would lead him to the wall. Thanking him, Harry headed out back and followed the sequence Tom told him. He watched in mild marvel as the wall opened up, revealing a busy alley with huge amounts of people.

Once you’ve seen God, small miracles just become that less impressive. Really, how is Harry supposed to be impressed by any kind of magic now?

"Wouldn't be London if it wasn't busy," Harry laughed to himself. He began to walk down the alley, humming a soft tune as he did so. He attracted a few looks, but nobody paid him much mind. Soon enough, he came up to a large white building that said 'Gringotts: Wizard Bank'.

Stepping inside, Harry saw that it was filled with small creatures with pointed ears and hooked noses. They looked rather ugly, but who was Hadrian to judge?

Author, that turn of phrase does not imply that Harry is non-judgmental; it implies that Harry considers himself ugly. It also implies that you don’t think about what you write, but that has sort of been the overarching theme thus far.

He walked straight up to the creature at the head of the desk. "Greetings," Harry said kindly.

The creature stopped what he was doing and looked down on him. "Greetings to you, young Wizard," he spoke in his gravelly voice. "May I ask your name and how Gringotts may serve you today?"

Harry grinned at him, "Hadrian Sparda, formerly Hadrian James Potter, here to claim my inheritance."

Did Harry actually have it legally changed, or does the author think that’s something you can just do by yourself?

The creature's eyes widened before it gave him a toothed grin. "I see...very well," he called over a smaller creature, who looked at the two of them. "Please take Mr Sparda to see Potter Account Manager Ripclaw."

The smaller creature nodded and began to lead Harry away. As he did, Harry noticed a sign on the wall that said 'Gringotts. Run by Goblins since 1671.'

'So these creatures are Goblins,' Harry thought to himself as he looked them over. This was good, it meant he wouldn't need to ask them just what they were and end up sounding rude. This was a first impression, and that was key to many meetings.

Too bad he’s dressed like a try-hard cosplayer about a decade before its relevance.

Soon enough, the small Goblin and Harry arrived outside a door. The Goblin knocked twice and a grunt was heard from within. The Goblin turned to him. "Account Manager Ripclaw will see you now," he told the-boy-who-lived.

Harry nodded. "Thank you," he opened the door and walked in, greeted by the sight of another Goblin, wearing a crooked pair of glasses on his nose.

"Mr Potter," the Goblin said. "I have been waiting awhile to meet you. I am Account Manager Ripclaw," he offered his bony hand.

Without hesitation, Harry took it.

I guess “be wary of strangers” was one of the many things his parents didn’t tell him as well.

"A pleasure Ripclaw," Harry told him politely. "However I do not gso by the name Potter any longer. I go by the name Hadrian Sparda."

The Goblin nodded. "Of course, excellent way to be hidden," he agreed, talking as if Harry had been in hiding all this time, which technically wasn't wrong. "Now, I heard you wish to talk about your inheritance?" Ripclaw received a nod. "Well, to do so we must take an inheritance test from you, to find out everything to do with your family history, you understand I hope?"

Because why keep records or anything like that when bullshit can solve it all?

"Of course," Harry said. "May I ask what this test requires on my part?"

Ripclaw pulled out a piece of paper and a knife and slid both forward. "It is quite simple really," Ripclaw told him. "Just cut your palm on this blade and let your blood fall onto the paper. The paper will fill itself out once enough blood makes contact with it, and once it does the wound will close on it's own.

Self-healing knife wounds? Sounds like you could pull off some very uncomfortable but effective practical jokes with that thing.

Hearing this, Harry did just as Ripclaw told him. Cutting open his palm, he allowed his blood to drop onto the scroll. After 10 drops, the wound closed magically, and a few seconds later, words began to appear on the paper.

Inheritance Test Results

Name: Hadrian Nero Sparda (Formerly Hadrian James Potter)

I know it’s magic, and magic can explain literally everything, but fucking what?! The kid decides that he needs a new name, and his decision, his mere desire, can be traced in his blood?! How?!

Date of Birth: July 31st 1980

Mother: Lillian Elizabeth Potter nee Evans

Father: James Charles Potter


Sirius Orion Black (By the Godfather Ritual: Currently in Azkaban)

Amelia Vesta Bones (By the Godmother Ritual)

Heir to:

Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter (By Blood, Father)

Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Peverell (By Blood, Father)

Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black (Named heir by Godfather due to infertility)

You really doing Sirius dirty like this, author? Couldn’t you just, I don’t know, have his possessions impounded upon being thrown in Azkaban?

Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Gryffindor (By Blood, Father)

Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Ravenclaw (By Blood, Mother)

Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Hufflepuff (By Blood, Mother)

Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Slytherin (By right of conquest)

Most Ancient House of Gaunt (By right of conquest)

Founding House of Emrys (By Magic)

Founding House of Pendragon (By Magic)

Okay, no, magic does in fact not explain Harry inheriting this shit - please explain how Harry is inheriting stuff from both Merlin and King Arthur, and do it quick!

Founding House of Sparda (By Blood, Father)


Eidetic Memory

That… that isn’t magic, though. It’s not even anything special. Did you mean Photographic Memory, author? In that case… no, still not magic.

Natural Occulumency

Natural Legillimency

Natural Animagus

Full Metamorphmagus


Dark Magic

Light Magic

Healing Magic




Dark Arts





He’s good at everything, go figure. There’s virtually nothing he can’t do, what would be the point otherwise? Now, would anyone tell me how one can have a genetically inherited affinity for potions, and will someone inform the author that Runes is a fucking language?!

Other Information:

Marriage Contract between Hadrian Nero Sparda and Daphne Sarah Greengrass (Made by James Potter and Cyrus Greengrass)

Marriage Contract between Hadrian Nero Sparda and Tracey Alicia Davis (Made by James Potter and Philip Davis)

Marriage Contract between Hadrian Nero Sparda and Luna Alexia Lovegood (Made by James Potter and Xenophilius Lovegood)

Marriage Contract between Hadrian Nero Sparda and Susan Selena Bones (Made by Lillian Potter and Jasmine Bones)

Marriage Contract between Hadrian Nero Sparda and Gabrielle Louise Delacour (Made by Ignotus Peverell and Nouvelle Delacour)

Marriage Contract between Hadrian Nero Sparda and Astroia Lillian Greengrass (Made by Sirius Black and Cyrus Greengrass)

Marriage Contract between Harry James Potter and Ginerva Molly Weasley (Made by A.P.W.B.D and Molly Weasley)

Marriage contracts, oh boy, we’re doing this dumb, misogynistic fanfic shtick. I don’t believe I need to point out, how using a lawfully binding contract to strong-arm girls into a relationship without their consent is a bad thing. Instead, let’s ponder about what possibly could have possessed Harry’s parent to prenuptially pimp out their infant son to four infant girls at the same time, shall we? Or how a contract made by Peverell in the thirteenth century somehow comes into effect seven hundred years after his death? Or how Sirius could agree to a marriage contract, where the bride-to-be was born after his incarceration? The last one is obviously just a “Dumbledore is a bad guy” cue card, and I’m expecting more of them to show up before the end of the chapter.

Harry's eyes near bugged out of his skull at all the information. He had so many questions to ask, but one thing was the most pressing question. "These marriage contracts," he spoke. "All of them say 'Hadrian Nero Sparda' except for one, which says Harry James Potter. Does that mean that because it isn't my name, the contract is invalid?"

How about the fact that it was made by unaffiliated parties to your family? Because that’s still legally your name, no matter your current alias.

Ripclaw gave Harry a toothy grin. "Very good Mr Sparda-"

"Harry please."

"-Harry then. You are of course correct, magic requires the correct names in order for the contracts to be binding. Originally, all these contracts besides the one between Ignotus and Nouvelle had the name 'Hadrian James Potter' however as your name was changed in the muggle world, it appears to have been accepted by magic, and the contracts were adjusted accordingly. However, the last contract on the list is not valid because the man who signed it is not your magical guardian, as he claims to be," the goblin's grin grew wider if possible. "Which means his attempt at making the contract is completely invalid, and in fact against the law."

Good news, guys! Fraud has just been made impossible by magic itself! Unfortunately, magic has yet to fix my suspension of disbelief; I’ll let you know if it happens.

Soon enough, Harry was matching the goblin's grin. "I'll have to make sure to let this slip at some point," he noted, before he grew serious. "I'll accept all these contracts, don't really have much of a choice, but let me ask about all the houses I am the 'heir' to, if you please."

You could also inquire whether you actually do have a choice, but I guess then the author would have to come up with a worse excuse for you accepting them.

Ripclaw nodded, "By all means."

"Potter, Peverell, Black, and Sparda, I understand," the half demon told him. "But the rest of them confuse me. What does it mean 'right of conquest'? I have not conquered anybody. Also, how is it I am heir to two bloodlines through my mother? To the best of my knowledge, my mother was born to non-magical parents. And what does it mean 'by magic'?"

There ain’t no way in hell we’re about to be given a logical explanation for that nonsense, but I’ll take a dumb explanation over a plot hole.

The Goblin nodded. "Fair questions Harry, which I shall do my best to answer each one. Right of conquest means you defeated the wizard holding those titles, and they now belong to you. You must not know if you are confused, but on Halloween 1981, a dark wizard we refer to as 'he-who-must-not-be-named' came to your doorstep and killed your parents, and attempted to kill you. However, instead he perished when he fired the killing curse at you. Magic recognized this as conquest, and the titles became yours since he was killed.

In other words, Magic thinks it’s okay to kill people and take their stuff. What a just world these people live in.

"Onto your next question, your mother was not muggleborn. Rather, she came from a long line of squibs. At some point, a Hufflepuff descendant who was a squib must have married a Ravenclaw descendant who was also a squib, meaning your mother came from two powerful bloodlines as a result of this," Ripclaw told Harry, who nodded.

And both suddenly broke their squib streak for the benefit of our dear protagonist. It seems like Harry’s life has become one big convenience cornucopia.

"That makes sense," Harry agreed. "However, you have yet to explain what 'by magic' means."

"And I shall tell you right now," Ripclaw promised. "Contrary to some beliefs, magic is not something that resides in each wizard and lets them perform feats. Magic is a living and breathing being who exists, and can make choices. When it says 'by magic' it means that magic itself has decided you are suitable to continue the bloodlines. Though I will admit, never before has magic named someone an heir to a founding house before."

Does Magic’s influence only extend to forcefully injecting genetics, or can it do something about the wizard terrorists who are supposed to be the antagonists of this plot? Because it sounds like the author just made up another god, who sits with their thumb up their own ass whenever it isn’t in Harry’s interest.

Harry nodded slowly at his answer. "I see..." he took a breath, this was all going very fast, and yet it excited him. "As an heir, I assume at some point I must take up a Lordship. Is there a way to do it right now?"

Is there a reason you should? You have a season pass for divine intervention, what could this possibly gain you, other than a miniscule boost in ego?!

"Indeed there is," Ripclaw grinned. "You see, as written by magical law, at the age of 11 you are able to take up your Lordship if A) you have no living direct magical relatives or B) the current Lord of your house passes it down to you. Seeing as you fall under the first category, you are able to claim your Lordship right now.

There is no way you can convince me, that the laws of the wizarding world would allow for a child to hold a lordship, at an age where they aren’t expected to perform the simplest of spells correctly. You could have possibly sold me on thirteen, and I would buy into it being by an archaic and overlooked law, but at eleven?! I don’t mean to disparage Ron Weasley, but he was basically the story’s example of the average kid growing up with magic - and he managed to make himself puke up slugs! Stop making up unreasonable excuses for this redundant wish fulfillment!

The only Lordship you cannot claim is Lordship over House Black, as that belongs to your Godfather, who is in Azkaban. Of course, you shall need to wear your Head of House rings."

"What is Azkaban?"

"Azkaban is Wizard Prison," Ripclaw told Harry. "Think of the Wizarding equivalent of Alcatraz."

Because a British preteen would surely know what that is, and so would a goblin. Of course.

The silver haired demon grimaced. Not a good thought. "And why exactly is he in there?"

"For betraying your parents to you-know-who," Ripclaw informed him. "However, with this inheritance test we know that isn't true."

"Oh?" Harry's eyebrow rose. "And why is that?"

Yes, do explain, so we can preemptively fix that plot thread years ahead of time. Because why wouldn’t we? Fanfic authors can’t get enough of sabotaging anything that would lead their protagonist to be misinformed or mistaken. That would make them less than perfect, after all.

Ripclaw frowned at how misinformed Harry was about their world. Just who had raised him? "The godparent ritual is an ancient ritual used to make someone a godparent. With it, Sirius could not have betrayed your family. If he ever even thought of hurting you then he would drop to the ground dead."

Gee, I wonder how everyone else knowing of Sirius’ status as Harry’s godfather didn’t pick up on this fact. Also that’s a fucking bullshit ritual, but so is the entire story.

Harry nearly growled at this. So his godfather was framed? He'd sort this out quick soon enough, after a few words with God that is. "I will sort that out when I can. Is there a way to...fuse the rings?"

Why don’t you just ask God to grow you extra fingers instead?

"Yes," Ripclaw said. "By your will, once you are a lord, it is possible to fuse all the rings into one, or only fuse certain rings together. I myself would recommend fusing the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin rings together, fusing the rings from the founding houses together, and fusing the rest of the rings together."

Taking a breath, Harry looked at Ripclaw and nodded, "Very well. Let's get this done, quickly please. Time is money, and I have a lot of it to spend."

Which means he can afford to waste it. Could the author be bothered to think about what he is writing?

Ripclaw grinned at Harry. He snapped his fingers and 10 boxes appeared in front of them. Opening them each, a ring was settled in each one. He pushed them all forwards. "Do you, Hadrian Nero Sparda, take up your Lordship as Lord of House Potter, Peverell, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Gaunt, Emrys, Pendragon, and Sparda?"

He looked over the rings once before he sighed and spoke with determination. "I do," he reached out to each ring and picked it up.

You may now kiss your bank manager. Seriously, what possessed the author to write it like this?

And each time he did, he felt power surge through him. By the time he picked up the Sparda ring, his entire body was pulsing with power, and damn did it feel amazing. But he didn't let it go to his head, he kept calm and within a few minutes, the power had settled down.

What is even happening? He’s putting on accessories denoting his lineage. If his powers come from bloodlines, he should already have them. For all I know, he could get the same placebo power trip from a cereal-box decoder ring.

Looking at the rings, he followed Ripclaw's recommendations and merged the rings as he stated. He then slipped all three onto his right hand. The founding ring went onto his index finger, the Hogwarts ring went onto his middle finger, and the other ring went onto his ring finger. "Is there anything else I should be made aware of?"

"Yes," Ripclaw nodded. "As you are now Lord Sparda-Potter-Perverell-Gryffindor-Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff-Slytherin-Gaunt-Emrys-Pendragon, you now officially own Hogwarts."

That would usually mean he’d be responsible for managing the school, but when did that ever become a factor in a fanfic?

That made a smirk spread on his face. He owned his school? Awesome. "Let's just shorten that to Lord Sparda eh? Also, is there a way I can get a credit card of some kind to spend my money instead of taking it out by coming here so often?

Let’s change the magical monetary system, because it inconveniences the protagonist and for no other reason whatsoever.

Once more, Ripclaw grinned, "It is usually reserved for our important clients, but now being the Lord of 10 houses, I believe you qualify." Pushing forward a piece of plastic, he gestured towards the knife, that had lain forgotten after Harry cut his palm for the inheritance test. "I will need a few drops of your blood on the plastic, and it shall turn into a card that you can spend money with. When using it, you'll have to tell them which vault you want them to take the money out of. Would you like a summary of all the money you have now?"

I’d rather have you explain how the fuck goblins manage to manufacture plastic. Then again, I also want to know what drugs the author was on while writing this.

Harry shook his head. "Later," he told Ripclaw. "Send me an account statement for me over August. Address it to my name and it shall get to me," he promised. He pricked his finger with the knife and let 3 drops of blood fall on the plastic, which changed into a jet black credit card. He put the knife down and pocketed the card. "For now, I shall use the Potter Vault for my shopping today."

Then you’d better hope those stores have magical card readers or don’t do cash only transactions. What is even the point of this?

Ripclaw nodded, "A wise decision Harry," he told the demon. The two stood and Ripclaw offered his hand. "Farewell Lord Sparda, and may your vaults overflow with gold."

Taking his hand, Harry smirked. "Farewell Account Manager Ripclaw, and may the heads of your enemies roll down at your feet," Harry said it as a small inside joke, since Yamato could do that with ease, but he was surprised that Ripclaw looked rather impressed with him. He planned to say those words to goblins when saying goodbye if that was the case.

Fuck you, author. That’s an inside joke of mine; you wouldn’t get it.


Splitting posts because the chapter is too long, continue below.

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Re: A Gift From Above

Post by StabbyKobold » Fri Dec 18, 2020 10:43 am

And so it continues.


Thanking Ripclaw one more time, Harry left the bank, heading back out into the busy streets of Diagon Alley. Grabbing his list, Harry looked it over. "Let's see..." he hummed. "I suppose my first stop will be to get my wand," he decided. However, the list didn't say where he could get his wand.

Taking a chance, Harry walked up to a random person.

I’m betting this will be as much of a random person as JFK was a random shooting victim.

"Excuse me," he said politely and they turned to him. The person in question turned to him. It was a man with pale blonde hair, and blue-grey eyes. He was dressed in fancy robes, which led Harry to believe he was someone important. "I am a first year at Hogwarts," he told the man as calmly as he could. "My parents were both magical, however died a year after my birth. As such, I have lived alone and came to the alley by myself. The list says a wand, however does not tell me a place where I can receive one. I was hoping you could help me."

The man nodded at him. "I see. Very well, I was just about to take my daughter to get her wand once we finished up here," the man offered his hand. "Cyrus Greengrass."

I guess the author wants Harry to rub his crotch all over the Greengrass sisters first among his marriage contract pickings. They are absurdly popular pairing targets within the fandom, and I don’t really know why. Their overall presence in the books are almost non-existent. Astoria ends up marrying Draco Malfoy, but prior to that she’s basically a background character. Even less is known about Daphne, since she appears so little in the series, that people can’t even say she has a canon hair color. They are basically just stand-ins for the authors’ preferred wet dreams.

Harry's eyes widened and he grinned as he took Cyrus hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Lord Greengrass," Harry told him, surprising himself at the 'Lord' title. Perhaps it was the rings. "My name is Hadrian Nero Sparda, formerly Hadrian James Potter. I believe I am engaged to both of your daughters."

And I believe they haven’t yet provided their consent.

Cyrus eyes widened as he realized he was staring at the boy-who-lived, and one day his son-in-law. Unbidden, a small smile came onto Cyrus face at seeing the son of his two friends. "And it is a pleasure to finally meet you, Hadrian," Cyrus told him.

"Just Harry, please. Can I ask why you are waiting out here?" Harry asked curiously.

How else would the author have you contrivedly stumble upon him?

Cyrus glanced to the store before looking at Harry, "Women and shopping."

Harry visibly shivered. He remembered when Petunia wanted to go clothes shopping with Vernon, and Harry was forced to come and carry everything. Who knew women could buy so much? "A wise choice..."



Daphne Greengrass couldn't believe she was going to Hogwarts. She'd waited her whole life to be able to go, and now she was going to. Plus, Harry Potter would be going as well- who she was betrothed too! She was so excited that Daphne hadn't bothered putting on her Ice Queen persona that day and happily walked with her parents through Diagon Alley to buy all her Hogwarts things.

Luckily for me, I remembered to put on my I-Don’t-Give-A-Fuck persona today.

Once they got to the clothing store, her father said he would wait outside for them. Daphne's mother- Sarah- rolled her eyes at her husbands antics before taking Daphne into her store and getting her measures for her Hogwarts robes. Once they were done, the two spent the next 20 minutes browsing through the store to decide what other clothes they should get for Daphne. They found a good selection, and soon ordered more clothes. They were then told to come back in about an hour for the clothes.

However, that's when things got strange.

I was hoping for ‘interesting’ and ‘unpredicted’, maybe a little bit of ‘competently written’, but I’ve gotten used to the disappointment.

Once she left the store, her mother staying behind to order a few things for herself, Daphne saw her father conversing with a young boy who looked to be about her age, though his appearance made her blush. He was a pretty good height, and his smile was very charming. His clothing wasn't bad either, making him look like a young lord. And the way his silver hair was brushed back made her want to run her hands through it. However what really caught her attention were his eyes. The left one was emerald green, while the right one was light blue.

"So," the boy was saying to her father. "I was cornered. The guy had a knife and clearly wasn't going to let me escape, so I was left with a choice. He killed me or I killed him. I went with the latter. I grabbed my sword, and sliced through his neck so fast, it looked like nothing happened to him. But once I sheathed the weapon, his eyes widened and his head slowly fell to the ground along with his body."

“Anyway, I committed manslaughter, and I looked like a total badass while doing it. I do so enjoy casually talking about murder on the open street.” Also, when and why did this fucking happen?!

"Remarkable," her father said, as if he believed the story. "May I see the weapon that you did it with?"

The boy nodded. "Of course, but I suggest you don't touch it. It is very...angry when touched by someone besides me," the boy reached into his bag and slowly pulled out a sheathed weapon. He grabbed the hilt and every so slowly began to draw it. Daphne's eyes were glued to the weapon, in awe. The blade was beautiful, reflecting the light perfectly. It looked absolutely gorgeous, no matter the angle.

You’re not going to get a girlfriend by showing off your toys, author. Give it a rest.

"Amazing..." Cyrus whispered. "Does it have a name?"

He received a nod in return, "Yamato. It was owned by my ancestor long before me, gifted to him by his father before his passing. It was lost long ago, but it was gifted to me by the man who saved me from my muggle relatives, and I have never parted with it since."

Is that so? Because I totally assumed you had pawned it off during an underage bender and went to great lengths to reacquire it. Why is the narrative jacking off to Vergil’s weapon, again?

Cyrus nodded, and opened his mouth to ask more, before he saw Daphne. "We shall have to discuss the story later, Lord Sparda," Cyrus told him. "For now, allow me to introduce you to my daughter. Daphne, come here please."

Daphne nodded, her eyes still glued to the weapon, and she very nearly pouted when the boy sheathed the blade and put it away. "Yes father?"

Cyrus smiled, "Daphne, I want you to meet this boy. He claimed his Lordship earlier today as his parents and magical relatives are all deceased. I believe he can introduce himself."

I believe he could jump over the moon if he tried. Doesn’t mean I don’t find both ridiculous.

Nodding, the boy offered his hand, "Hello Heir Greengrass," he said to her, though his eyes seemed to widen in surprise at his own words. "My name is Hadrian Nero Sparda, but please call me Harry. It is a pleasure to meet you."

The blonde took the boy's hand and shook it. "A pleasure, Lord Sparda," she replied. "May I ask why you were conversing with my father?"

May I ask why you could possibly care about his reasons?

Harry nodded. "But of course," he told her. "You see, I was raised by Muggle relatives, and so I am rather naive about this world, only claiming my Lordship by chance. And I decided I would start things off in the Alley by buying my wand. However, I did not know where I would go to receive my wand, so I walked to your father and asked him where I would go about getting a wand. He told me that they would be going to get your wand once you were done with your clothes shopping, so we decided to converse as we waited for you."

A hundred words wasted on providing a secondary character with knowledge of things we already know. Daphne has less use of knowing this than we have of knowing that she now knows. Knowing this, I now know that the author doesn’t know how her not knowing would knowingly not impact what we know, you know? Hold on, I think the story is giving me stroke.

Daphne nodded, before she noticed something faint on Harry's forehead. Blinking, she took a step closer and squinted her eyes to get a better look, before she gasped. It was very faint, hardly visible, but it was there. A scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. "Your-!" she was about to exclaim but Harry quickly covered her mouth.

"I'm trying to keep a low key," he whispered to her. "I don't want anybody to know who I am just yet, I'm not looking forward to fame at all.


But yes, I'm Harry Potter, though legally it is Hadrian Sparda, and I am your husband to be. Now can I trust you to be quiet about this?"

The girl blushed before nodding. Harry removed his hand, and Daphne sighed in relief. "Sorry," she told him, but Harry waved it off.

"It's fine. No harm, no foul," at their confused looks he elaborated. "Muggle saying. It means if there's no damage done, no blame is placed."

I have another muggle saying for you. Have a fucking point.

The two nodded as Sarah walked out the building, smiling as she walked to her family, before looking at Harry questioningly. "I'll explain on the way to the Wand Shop," Cyrus promised his wife. He turned to his daughter and one day son-in-law. "Come along now."


To his credit, Harry didn't so much as bat an eyelid as the four of them walked out of Diagon Alley into another place, a lot darker and more mysterious. Harry saw a brief sign that read 'Knockturn Alley'. It wasn't hard to assume what kind of place this was based on it's looks.

It’s where all the cool kids go to get their school supplies, if fanfics are to be believed.

Cyrus led them all through the Alley, and while the 4 got a few glances, nobody actually went up to them and did anything. Soon enough, they arrived at a small shop, which Harry safely assumed was a wand shop. It had no name on it, which Harry didn't question. The four walked in and Cyrus called out. "Rob!"

A man popped out from behind somewhere. His skin was tanned, and his hair was black. His brown eyes glinted. "Ah, Cyrus!" he greeted as he walked over. "Here to get Daphne a wand made are we?"

Seems like something that takes a lot of time and would probably be made to order for later pickup - why wouldn’t you have arranged this in advance for immediate pickup?

He nodded, "Yes, and we've brought another Hogwarts starter to get a custom wand too."

At this point, Harry stepped forwards and offered his hand. "Hadrian Nero Sparda, Lord of the Founding House of Sparda," he introduced himself to Rob. This made Cyrus, his wife, and Daphne look at him in surprise.

Doesn’t like the fame, he says, then immediately proclaims himself a lord to the next person he meets. It’s not The-Boy-Who-Lived fame, sure, but it’s attention all the same.

Rob's eyes widened before he grinned and shake Harry's hand. "The pleasure is all mine young lord!" he told him. "Now, let's get you and Miss Greengrass some wands, eh? If you will all follow me to the back!" he turned and headed to the back, with the four of them following.

Once they were there, Rob turned to them. "Which of you two would like to go first?"

"I think Harry should," Daphne told Rob. "While I'm interested for my own wand, I'm dying to see how the wand of the lord of a Founding House will turn out."

The wandmaker grinned. "Well Lord Sparda? Fancy getting a wand?"

He could just use the stick up his own ass, but I’m afraid the author is already using it to lead Harry around.

The demon chuckled. "I'm not being left with much choice, am I?" he asked rhetorically. Rob laughed loudly as he presented harry with several different kinds of wood. "What am I expected to do?"

"It's nothing too much really," Rob told him. "Just pass your hand over each of these woods. Your magic shall 'pull' you to the one that is most in tune with you. It's possible to have multiple woods as well."

Yet we’re working off the prior established idea that Magic is an entity with agency, so how does this nonsense work?

Harry nodded, and held his hand over the woods before he began to pass his hand over them one by one. Finally, he felt a particularly strong pull towards three of the woods. Picking them up, he offered them to Rob, who looked surprised before he grinned.

"Well, well," Rob spoke. "You are most interesting Lord Sparda. Yew, also known as the Tree of Life, or the Tree of Eternity. It symbolizes immortality, rebirth, protection, longevity, change, divinity, and strength. And then the second wood, Elder, which symbolizes judgement; transformation; death and regeneration; fate; and the inevitable. And then finally, Willow to balance it all, as it symbolizes Resonance and Harmony. I think it is safe to say this wand may very well be the most powerful wand I have ever crafted, Lord Sparda."

Whoop-de-fricking-do. I’ve gone through the symbolism of about fifty trees, and they all read like ego-stroking plant horoscopes, so it’s not like he could have gotten wood that symbolized something bad. Regardless, this is pretty much the formulaic fanfic song-and-dance for Harry getting a wand from any other place than Ollivanders. He goes to some out of place shop, typically in Knockturn Alley, picks the materials that tingles him the right way, and presto! Custom wand made from only the best of materials. Because who gives a fuck about his original, wimpy, phoenix feather and holly wand with its impotent, eleven-inch length? Nah, it has to be at least mahogany soaked in dragon’s blood, have a basilisk venom core, and be just as long as his dick! Originality has been dead for so long that we’ve stopped visiting its grave.

The three Grengrasses stared at Harry, making him feel uncomfortable, before Rob set the woods aside and put several different objects down in front of Harry. "Now for your wand's core," he told him. "It works the same as the wood, just hold your hand over them and choose the ones that you feel the greatest pull too."

It requires no effort, just like everything else in your oh so wonderful life.

Holding his hand over the objects, Harry slowly began to hold his hand over each one. By the end, he had found 3 of them that gave strong pulls to him. Picking them up, he handed them to Rob, who laughed heartily again.

"Oh Lord Sparda, this is amazing!" he said gleefully. "First, a phoenix feather from a royal phoenix, the ultimate symbol of light, willingly given. Then we have basilisk venom, forcefully taken, as the ultimate symbol of dark! And then, to tie it all together, we have Nundu heart string, willingly given, to balance the two cores and blend them all in harmony! I dare say Lord Sparda, your wand shall be the most powerful one known to man!"


Sure, Rob, I bet you tell all your clients that. I hope Harry tips well, because I have seen gangbangs that didn’t involve one person sucking this much dick.

Everyone was silent as Rob set the cores to the side. "If you will provide a few drops of your blood to act as a binding agent for the wand, Lord Sparda," he placed a small vial in front of harry, along with a knife.

"This seems to be happening a lot today," he mumbled as he slit his finger and poured his blood into the tiny vial, before the wound sealed up as if it had never existed.

You could possibly wonder if this abundant practice of bloodletting could have anything to do with the pureblood convictions of certain people in magical society, but no, the author just thinks it’s a cool thing to have in his story.

Rob took the vial, "Excellent." He placed the vial next to the cores and woods to be used for Harry's wand. "Now, let's find out what Miss Greengrass' wand shall be like, hm? I shall make the both of them together to save time."

I would have preferred the author saved time by not doing any of this, so if you don’t mind, whittle those magic sticks already.

They all nodded, and Daphne stepped forwards. Following the same instructions Harry did, she held her hand over the wands, before she picked up a single wood and handed it to Rob.

"Hmm," he hummed in thought as he turned the wood over in his hands. "Beech wood, the symbol of learning; knowledge; understanding; sustenance; and preservation. A very good wood to use." He set it down and gestured to the cores.

Once more following the same instructions, Daphne held her hand over the woods and tried to get a feel for them. She picked up two cores and handed them to Rob, who grinned.

"Oh yes," he smiled. "Very good indeed. Unicorn heart string, a symbol of purity and light, along with threstral heart string, symbols of taint on the soul and death.

The girl gets a wand made from horse components. Cute, author, real cute. Anyway, you keep going on about symbolism, but unless you’ve forgotten this thing called basic fucking logic, then that has nothing to do with the actual properties of the materiel. Why not make the cores from the creatures’ dung instead of heartstring, if all you need is the symbol?

Your wand shall also be very interesting to make Miss Greengrass. Like Lord Sparda, I shall require a few drops of blood to act as a binding agent for the wand."

Nodding, Daphne pricked her finger and let a few drops of blood fall into a vial put in front of her. Once it was filled and the wound closed, Rob took the vial and set it with Daphne's cores and wood.

"Time to get crafting!" Rob grinned. "I'd suggest you all go and do some other things while I'm crafting. It will take me about 2 hours to make both of these wands."

Sounds like a hack job, but that’s just my opinion. I’d like to see anyone carve out a half-way decent spoon in two hours, let alone hollow out two sticks and put animal parts in them.

Cyrus nodded, before leading everyone out of the store. "Well, I think we should head to Flourish and Blotts to get your boo-"

"I think we should head to Madam Malkins to get Harry measured for his robes, then head to Blotts," Daphne told her father. It made a fair amount of sense actually. Once Harry was measured and ordered his robes, they'd get their books from Blotts, and by the time they got back all of their clothing would be done.

Exciting shopping micromanagement action!

"Alright Daph," Sarah smiled at her daughter. "Come on you lot, off we go!"


Getting measured was rather boring for Harry. He just stood there while he measurements was taken, and he asked for the standard Hogwarts robe. He almost ran out the store in fear when Daphne suggested they buy Harry some more clothes, but he held it in and politely refused.

I don’t see the issue. It’s pretty much like how he just stood there and had God fix all of his problems.

After getting measured, the group then began to walk to Flourish and Blotts to get their books. As they did, Harry asked a question. "Excuse me, Cyrus?"

"Yes Harry?" Cyrus looked at him.

"I believe you have another daughter if I am not mistaken. Astroia Greengrass? Why is she not here with us?" he asked Cyrus.

The three of them were surprised by the question. "Before I tell you, may I ask how you know about my daughter and why you want to know?"

Really, Cyrus? The kid introduced himself as the person who is marrying both of your daughters. But, yeah, why does he want to know? Is he checking whether he’ll be cashing in a fake marriage contract or something?

Harry shrugged, seeing no harm in it. "Apparently, you signed a contract with my Godfather by right of the Godfather ritual, Sirius Black, where that his heir would marry Astroia. However Sirius is infertile, so he named me his heir, which means I'm betrothed to Astroia, as well as Daphne."

Oh, so that’s how the author is making all these bullshit marriage contracts work inside the same timeframe? Betrothals are just an IOUs on a bride that can be passed on, now? Sheesh. I’m still waiting on any kind of justification for these things, but I doubt the author managed to think that far into his masturbation session.

At the words 'godfather ritual' and 'Sirius Black' Cyrus, Sarah, and Daphne all froze in shock. Cyrus quickly recovered however. "Yes, that is true...to answer your question, Astroia is being taken care of by my parents, since she didn't want to possibly ruin Daphne's shopping mood today. Tell me Harry...just how many betrothal contracts do you have?"

Of all the things the protagonist has to wow people with, this is one we have to sit through?

Harry chuckled a little nervously. "I'm involved in six, three signed by my dad to Luna Lovegood, Tracey Davis, and Daphne, one signed by my mother to Susan Bones, one signed by my ancestor, Ignotus Peverell to a girl called Gabrielle Delacour, and one signed by Sirius to your second daughter, Astroia. I was actually also meant to be involved in another contract signed by some guy with the initials A.P.W.B.D, however he didn't use my official name, so the contract is invalid and non-binding to me, especially since he isn't my magical guardian anyway. According to what I know, since Sirius is in Azkaban, my magical guardianship falls to a woman called Amelia Bones."

Is that so? Are you at least planning on informing her about it? Because it doesn’t even seem like you planned on informing the readers, what with it having gone unmentioned up until now.

Cyrus looked like he was getting very angry at Harry's words after he mentioned the non-binding magical contract, but he soon calmed himself. "I see...don't worry Harry, I'll have this all sorted out," he promised. "Before your first year at Hogwarts is over, I'll be sure that your godfather is freed, and your living with your rightful godparents. Anyway..." he chuckled and pat Harry on the back. "I think you'll need a lot of luck on your side. One betrothal contract is enough, but you have six! And on top of that you need to take a wife for EACH house you are now the head of, meaning you still have to take another four wives...actually five, since your contract with Astroia is for the Black Family."

Does Harry even have to move a finger this entire story? So far, everyone just does stuff for him while barely even asking for a word of gratitude in return. Also, he has to find more wives than the ones that have been bought and paid for on his behalf?!

Harry quickly paled rapidly. His dad had whispered quietly to him on a visit when his mum wasn't there about how having one wife was a nightmare sometimes. And Harry was going to have to marry five more? He wanted to faint.

But why?! Why does he have to marry them? By what mortally wrought decree must he do this? Stop lamp-shading the author’s harem dreams with marital woes; I want to know why it’s his fucking obligation to marry even one of them!

Daphne, on the other hand, was torn. On the one hand, she was happy that Harry was going to marry her, but on the other hand she wasn't looking forward to sharing him with so many girls. At least god seemed to be somewhat merciful to her, as Harry was also going to be marrying her best friend, Tracey Davis. That meant some day she and Tracey would live under the same roof, which was good. She heard sometimes friends drifted apart as they grew older, but this way she and Tracey would always be together.

Conflict avoided by the inclusion of a single silver lining. I should give the author props; most fanfics of this kind doesn’t even entertain the thought of problems with polygamy. Still, it’s all just lazy obfuscation of the author’s juvenile fantasy. You can practically hear him shouting, “Pay no attention to the pervert behind the curtain!”

Lord Greengrass chuckled at the look on Harry's face. "Oh calm down," he told him. "Marriage is still a long way off, and you have plenty of time to find 5 more wives, so stop worrying about it."

Taking a breath, the half demon nodded. "I'll keep that in mind," he promised as they arrived at Flourish and Blotts. "For now though, I guess we should grab all our books, yeah?"

They all nodded, and went into the store. And in the store Harry and Daphne found something they had in common: they both loved to read.

I too enjoy absorbing information by visual interpretation of letter sequences, but that’s hardly something to have in common with this divinely mutated brat. They might as well bond over breathing air.

The two were at the store reading through books for a full hour, discussing some of what they'd read, and Daphne's parents had to physically drag them out the store once they'd paid for all of their books.

"Honestly," Cyrus huffed. "If you weren't so sly and crafty Daph, I'd pin you for a Ravenclaw!"

And if she bothered exhibiting such traits, I might not mistake her for a cardboard cutout.

Daphne blushed, though Harry didn't really understand what he meant. He figured he'd find out later, since Ravenclaw was one of the houses he was the lord of. Once they had their books, they then went about going to all the other stores to buy their things. Within an hour, the only things they had left to do was pick up their wands and then get a pet to take to Hogwarts.

"Alright you two," Sarah looked to the two. "Wand or pet fir-"

"Wand!" Harry and Daphne told her as one, eliciting a giggle from Sarah.

“Oh, kids and their adorable lust for power.”

"Wand it is," Cyrus said in amusement. The group of four returned to Knockturn Alley, and headed straight to the wand shop with no name. As soon as they walked in, Rob was grinning at them, and he had two boxes in front of them.

"Welcome!" the wand maker said to them. "Good timing! I just finished polishing and putting the wands away! Would you like to see them?" He received two nods. "Then come on, step forward! If young Lord Sparda would like to go first"? he slid a box forwards.

Sure, let’s gawk at yet another of the protagonists immediately granted benefits of the author’s choosing. We’ve done nothing else the entire chapter, so why stop now?

Harry stepped towards Rob and slowly opened the box, before he gasped at the sight of the wand. It was, in a word, beautiful. Grooves were etched into it, tracing down, as all three woods used for it spiralled up the wand. He reached out and grabbed it by the handle, and he felt power surge throughout his entire being. He felt as if he could take on the world!

Rob grinned at Harry. "Oh yes, full compatibility as it should be," he spoke up. "12 1/4 inches, perfectly balanced. Your wand is suitable for all forms of magic, young lord, and I expect you to treat it well."

I’d sooner expect the gods to lift that burden from him, since that is well within reason in this mess of a story.

"Do you have some kind of wand polishing kit and holster?" Harry asked, and by Rob's grin that was the right question to ask.

"Indeed I do, but let's have Miss Greengrass receive her wand before I go get that," he slid another box forward as Daphne took the lid off of her box, staring at the beauty that was her own wand. She picked it up, and shivered as she felt amazing power surge through her being. "Your wand, young Miss Greengrass, is 12 inches precisely, nice and supple. Your wand is most suitable for Transfiguration and Charms. And just as young Lord Sparda, I trust you to take very good care of it. I should also inform you that both of your wands do not have the trace on them, Lord Sparda being an emancipated lord, and Miss Greengrass parents requesting as such."

It can’t just go without saying, huh? I’m not going to say the author dislikes conflict, I’m just saying that he is quite possibly hunting it for sport.

After saying that, Rob headed to the back and came back a few minute later with two holsters and two wand polishing kits, "The holsters are made from the scales of a Welsh Greenback. With the wand, holster, and polishing kit, the payment for each of you comes to 1050 galleons."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the amount, but didn't really find it so strange. Cyrus gave Rob the money for his daughter, and Harry stepped forward pulling out his new credit card. He handed it to Rob, "Take the money from the Potter Vaults. And take another 100 galleons as a tip."

Considering Harry’s original wand only cost him seven galleons, I’d like to know what fucking math there’s behind that number. Especially since Harry just tipped Rob the equivalent of seven hundred dollars worth of gold.

Rob's eyes widened at this information and he opened his mouth, before he closed it and nodded, doing as Harry requested before he handed the card back to him and grinned. "Most interesting Lord Sparda...or is it Lord Potter?"

"Sparda," he told Rob. "Potter is my former name, despite it being one of my titles." Harry slid on his holster and put his wand in it before picking up his polishing kit, Daphne doing the same. "Thank you Rob. You may be seeing me again in the near future. It never hurts to have more than one wand, no?"

Sure, if you want to flex your wealth by making redundant purchases of magical objects, which could derail entire Dungeons & Dragons campaigns.

The wand maker grinned, "I believe we are going to get along just fine, Lord Sparda. I eagerly await your next visit."


The group of 4 left the wand shop, and Cyrus smiled at the two children. "Well, we have one more stop," he told them. "We're going to go and buy you pets for Hogwarts."

Daphne grinned. She'd always wanted her own owl, but knew she'd have to wait 'till Hogwarts to get one.

"Question," Harry spoke up. "Are we only allowed to bring the animals on the list? Or can we bring other animals?"

If you would bother to read it, the letter expressly states that a student can bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad - and the emphasis is not mine. But why do you ask, when you own the fucking school anyway?

Cyrus shrugged, "Hogwarts is pretty lenient, as long as your pet is tame, they'll allow you to bring it." With that said, the group headed to the largest pet store in Diagon Alley. They headed here rather than a specific one, since the larger ones held animals of all kinds, so your options were less limited.

They walked in, and Daphne immediately began to look around, her parents following her. Harry did the same too, though he kept away from the owls. Honestly, why would he want a nocturnal animal? He didn't care of he was half demon, the worst things came out at night, and he knew it!


Even for a child, that’s a petty excuse, author. I get that you want Harry to have something else than a plain old barn owl, but it’s not like Hedwig was Harry’s own pick in the first place, what with Hagrid buying her as a gift. Every time you seem to try to justify Harry’s decisions, its either his magic doing it for him, or it’s some variant of a schoolyard retort.

About 5 minutes later, Harry felt a pull on his magic, and his demonic aura. He looked torn between which one to go to first. He decided to follow the call of his demonic aura first, and soon ended up at a snake in a cage. Nobody was in the area, probably afraid of the snake, he crouched down and looked at it, determining this was one of the most venomous snakes on the planet: the inland taipan.

The perfect school pet! But seriously, does Harry even have a semblance of free will anymore, now that his demon aura is competing with his magic for control?

The snake looked up at Harry and hissed angrily, §Are you yet another human here to laugh at my misfortune?!§

§No, great serpent.§ </span></i><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif'>Harry hissed in response, surprising the snake. <i>§I am a half demon, and as I looked around this store I felt my demonic aura calling me to you. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Hadrian Nero Sparda, but you may call me Harry. May I ask your name?§

§A speaker!§ </span></i><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif'>the inland taipan hissed with delight. <i>§It is an honour to speak with you! Yes, my name is Balthazar! I plead of you speaker to purchase me from this place and take me as a familiar! Do so, and I shall follow your every order, no matter what it is!§

If someone offered to be your slave, especially if they ask for what amounts to a pittance to you in return, the moral thing would be to turn down their offer. Just pointing that out.

Harry grinned. He was going to like this snake. §Consider it done Balthazar. But now I must follow the call of my magic to another animal.§ Harry picked up the cage and began to follow the pull of his magic. When he arrived, he was most surprised at what he sound. It was a light blue egg with strange carvings in it.

§The egg of a Phoenix!§ </span></i><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif'>Balthazar hissed. <i>§Truly Harry, you have the greatest luck I have ever seen§ Take the egg, it is to be my fellow familiar!§

A pet store phoenix?! You might as well have found the Holy Grail in an IKEA. For what reason would such a no doubt highly valued item be on display in this store, let alone put up for sale.

Nodding, Harry grabbed the egg, and immediately felt a great warmth run through him. He could feel the egg was wanting to hatch. "Not yet," he told it. "After I have purchased you, feel free to do so." The egg's warmth faded, but he could feel understanding from it. He lifted it up and headed to the counter, putting both Balthazar and the egg on the cage. "I want to buy these please."

The cashier looked up and briefly looked panicked, before he calmed. "Ain't no way you can afford those brat," he sneered at Harry. "Though I'll humour you I guess. The total price for the snake and the egg is 20,000 Galleons."

Suspiciously round number, but alright, that comes out to almost a hundred and thirteen thousand dollars. Given the healing properties of phoenix tears and that their feathers can be used as wand cores, I’m honestly surprised you could even put a price tag on the bird. Still, that isn’t really an over-the-counter pet store price either, so my previous point still stands.

"Done," Harry shrugged. "Can I get some mice for my snake too?" he slid his card forward. "Take it out the Potter Vault."

The man's eyes widened, "You're-!"

Harry clamped a hand over the man's mouth. "Yes," he whispered. "I am. But I want to keep my return to the wizarding world a secret until I start Hogwarts. I'm sure you understand, there were many supporters out there of you-know-who that would love to make me suffer for destroying their master."

If you’re going to have this problem every time you pay with your magical credit card, why didn’t you just stick with cash, you absolute moron?

The cashier quickly nodded and grabbed Harry a lot of dead mice for the snake, before he took the amount of money required out of Harry's vault, then handed it all to him. "Thank you for your purchase."

Harry nodded and backed away as he picked up the egg. He saw Daphne and the other's walking over with a brown owl. "I'll wait outside," he told them. They nodded, casting a strange look at his egg before Harry headed outside. Once he was, he whispered softly to his egg. "It's okay, you can hatch now."

Because the open and very public street is better than inside the store, I guess. You haven’t gotten enough attention yet, is that it?

Immediately, warmth filled the egg before it cracked and a small creature popped out, cooing softly. Harry felt another pull on his magic, and he felt mildly confused at this. However he followed the feeling, and unknowingly made a familiar bond with his new phoenix. It cooed as the egg shattered and it grew up until it was now a brilliant, white phoenix that flew up to Harry's shoulder, nudging him softly in happiness.

"Hey there buddy," Harry smiled. "Guess I should give you a name huh? How do you like...Hedwig?" the now named Hedwig cooed happily at the name. "Great to meet you then, Hedwig!"

Yeah, let’s just slap a stolen nametag onto this other creature and pretend nothing is wrong with that.

"My word!" Harry heard Cyrus voice say from behind them. He turned around, and soon noticed everybody, in the store and in the alley, was looking at him with a gob smacked expression.

All Harry could do was grin as Balthazar hissed with laughter. All Hedwig did was continue to nudge Harry, cooing happily at finally finding her master. "What?" Harry asked them. "Never seen a guy buy a phoenix egg before?"

“Never seen a child purchase a mythical creature on a whim with money that could buy two limousines?” No, you pampered fucking prick!</span><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family: "Times New Roman",serif'>


And that’s it. The story has not seen an update in four years, and I’m frankly thankful for it. The entire story is a mess of protagonist empowerment that is setting up nothing but non-conflicts for any potential future chapters. Harry gets a new life, a new name, all the money, all the powers, the best wand, the best pets, the author’s preferred love interests, and the list only gets longer the more I think about it. This was nothing but an exercise in wish fulfillment, a self-indulgent foray into stale staples of fanfic tropes, and the author finished embarrassingly prematurely. Thank you all for reading; I hope it managed to be an entertaining one.

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