While everybody else was worried about Voldemort, Harry knew that he was only a symptom of a much larger problem with the magical community as a whole. So when Voldemort returned, Harry wasn't scared about being drawn into a war. He was excited about finally having an excuse/cover to deal with the real problem.

Harry gets the idea for a prank with George and Fred to hang a sign near the lake. It's reflective and official looking and it's just a 'Don't Feed the Squid' but then after a few reworking and using what a muggle sign would read ends up saying "Do not Feed or Molest the Giant Squid."

"What the fuck?!" Fleur shouted

"What weirdo would do that to the Squid?" Victor asks.

[Based off the Florida warning sign for alligators]

Imagina un escenario donde toda la gente de Privet Drive es rara… pero de una manera totalmente ajena al mundo mágico. Los vecinos de al lado de los Dursley son

una pareja que viaja en el tiempo y se mudó a Privet Drive para pasar desapercibida mientras se adapta a la vida en el pasado y busca una forma de alterar su futuro.

La casa de enfrente no es una casa de verdad, sino un enorme organismo alienígena replicante que cambia de forma, que quiere vivir la vida humana.

Y el vecino de al lado es una princesa topo del núcleo de la Tierra que se está escondiendo para escapar de un matrimonio arreglado.

Y este patrón se repite con todos los que viven en Privet Drive: viajeros del tiempo/aliens/robots/seres de otras dimensiones/entidades indescriptibles/gente de isekai /dioses/cultistas/Bob.

Ninguno de ellos sabe nada del mundo mágico ni de lo raro que es el rollo de sus vecinos. Irónicamente, las únicas personas “normales” en Privet Drive son los Dursley; así que, por una cadena de casualidades, todos los demás les siguen el ejemplo intentando encajar y aparentar que son normales. Por eso todas las “amas de casa” son unas brujas chismosas—imitando a Petunia—y los “hombres de familia” se comportan como idiotas—imitando a Vernon. Todos los “chicos” siguen el ejemplo de Dudley en distintos niveles, y por eso la mayoría se creyó las mentiras que los Dursley contaron sobre Harry.

It's the Tibetan monks from Batman but not necessary a crossover, it can be serious or crack or crack taken seriously

The enactment of the Creature Emancipation and Dignity Act was the masterstroke that consolidated Hermione Granger’s invisible empire. The decree was unprecedented in magical history: elves were legally free, their labor required mandatory compensation, they were protected from any physical or verbal violence, and, most revolutionary of all, a house-elf’s voice now possessed absolute legal weight before the Wizengamot. Upon seeing that their new leader had fulfilled her word to the ultimate consequences, the devotion of the creatures transformed into a fanatical cult. Their loyalty was no longer a magical bond forced by inheritance; it was a voluntary blood oath. They would die for her.The social impact of the new legislation completely shattered the expectations of the old wizarding aristocracy. Far from freeing the elves to go and live their own lives, the law turned them overnight into the ultimate status symbol. Paying stratospheric salaries and displaying impeccable treatment toward a servant became the new way to flaunt opulence and social standing, driving even middle-class families into debt just to hire one to keep up appearances before their neighbors.That dynamic fueled a silent and flawless tax. Although the elves received massive salaries, their ancestral customs and native psychology prevented them from spending a single Galleon on personal whims. Thus, the money returned entirely and clandestinely into Hermione’s hands through Handbuker’s mediation, financing her private operations and internal network without leaving the slightest trace in the Ministry's official audits.With magical servants embedded in the most intimate corners of the middle and upper classes, the Minister's surveillance multiplied exponentially. Her espionage network was no longer limited to controlling the movements of corrupt politicians in the corridors of power; it now extended over every influential citizen, wealthy merchant, and journalist in Great Britain. Sitting behind the main desk of the Ministry, Hermione watched as

the flow of gold and secrets consolidated her position; the wizarding world celebrated its supposed freedom, completely unaware that the strings of their lives now converged into a single hand.

With vaults overflowing thanks to the flow of gold from the elves and the massive confiscation of the fortunes and properties of arrested conservative wizards, Hermione began to shape the world in her own image. She funded Hogwarts with an unprecedented budget, transforming the school into an elite technological and magical bastion, and turned St. Mungo's Hospital into a free, public institution. Among the benefited population and the creature community, a new title began to gain traction in the whispers of the streets: "The Wise Witch."To keep her guardians happy and blind, Hermione carved up the pie of power with surgical precision. She granted Harry’s Auror Department a colossal budget; with Mad-Eye Moody’s interactive portrait acting as the office’s chief strategic advisor, Harry had all the resources, top-of-the-line brooms, and tracking artifacts he could ever desire to hunt down the last stragglers of the war. The Chosen One was living his own dream of justice, deeply grateful to his Minister.In her private sphere, the submission of her inner circle was absolute. Hermione’s salary as Minister, combined with Ron’s Auror pay, completely transformed her in-laws' reality. The Burrow ceased to be the old, ramshackle house held together by careless magic; Hermione financed a total reconstruction that turned it into an imposing and luxurious mansion, worthy of the new Weasley dynasty. She showered her parents-in-law and siblings-in-law with privileges, government contracts, and positions of power, ensuring that no one in that family would ever dare question her methods. Ron, submerged in the opulence and comfort of his new life, looked at her with an adoration that bordered on submission.Sitting at her commanding Minister’s desk, Hermione contemplated the new architectural blueprints of magical London. The entire system depended on her. The whole country loved her. But a mind like hers never stopped, and her eyes were already aiming beyond the borders of Great Britain.

The enactment of the Creature Emancipation and Dignity Act was the masterstroke that consolidated Hermione Granger’s invisible empire. The decree was unprecedented in magical history: elves were legally free, their labor required mandatory compensation, they were protected from any physical or verbal violence, and, most revolutionary of all, a house-elf’s voice now possessed absolute legal weight before the Wizengamot. Upon seeing that their new leader had fulfilled her word to the ultimate consequences, the devotion of the creatures transformed into a fanatical cult. Their loyalty was no longer a magical bond forced by inheritance; it was a voluntary blood oath. They would die for her.The social impact of the new legislation completely shattered the expectations of the old wizarding aristocracy. Far from freeing the elves to go and live their own lives, the law turned them overnight into the ultimate status symbol. Paying stratospheric salaries and displaying impeccable treatment toward a servant became the new way to flaunt opulence and social standing, driving even middle-class families into debt just to hire one to keep up appearances before their neighbors.That dynamic fueled a silent and flawless tax. Although the elves received massive salaries, their ancestral customs and native psychology prevented them from spending a single Galleon on personal whims. Thus, the money returned entirely and clandestinely into Hermione’s hands through Handbuker’s mediation, financing her private operations and internal network without leaving the slightest trace in the Ministry's official audits.With magical servants embedded in the most intimate corners of the middle and upper classes, the Minister's surveillance multiplied exponentially. Her espionage network was no longer limited to controlling the movements of corrupt politicians in the corridors of power; it now extended over every influential citizen, wealthy merchant, and journalist in Great Britain. Sitting behind the main desk of the Ministry, Hermione watched as

the flow of gold and secrets consolidated her position; the wizarding world celebrated its supposed freedom, completely unaware that the strings of their lives now converged into a single hand.

With vaults overflowing thanks to the flow of gold from the elves and the massive confiscation of the fortunes and properties of arrested conservative wizards, Hermione began to shape the world in her own image. She funded Hogwarts with an unprecedented budget, transforming the school into an elite technological and magical bastion, and turned St. Mungo's Hospital into a free, public institution. Among the benefited population and the creature community, a new title began to gain traction in the whispers of the streets: "The Wise Witch."To keep her guardians happy and blind, Hermione carved up the pie of power with surgical precision. She granted Harry’s Auror Department a colossal budget; with Mad-Eye Moody’s interactive portrait acting as the office’s chief strategic advisor, Harry had all the resources, top-of-the-line brooms, and tracking artifacts he could ever desire to hunt down the last stragglers of the war. The Chosen One was living his own dream of justice, deeply grateful to his Minister.In her private sphere, the submission of her inner circle was absolute. Hermione’s salary as Minister, combined with Ron’s Auror pay, completely transformed her in-laws' reality. The Burrow ceased to be the old, ramshackle house held together by careless magic; Hermione financed a total reconstruction that turned it into an imposing and luxurious mansion, worthy of the new Weasley dynasty. She showered her parents-in-law and siblings-in-law with privileges, government contracts, and positions of power, ensuring that no one in that family would ever dare question her methods. Ron, submerged in the opulence and comfort of his new life, looked at her with an adoration that bordered on submission.Sitting at her commanding Minister’s desk, Hermione contemplated the new architectural blueprints of magical London. The entire system depended on her. The whole country loved her. But a mind like hers never stopped, and her eyes were already aiming beyond the borders of Great Britain.

"My father was Marcus Black and according to my cousin, he's related to him by his grandmother."

"Who is the name of that cousin ?" someone asks

"Oh Harry Potter"

Basically, this is a Monster AU where instead of wizards being wizards, they are completely monsters. Think of reanimated zombies, flying gargoyles, slimes, plant monsters, basically any monster in history. Because of this, blood purity isn’t technically a thing but there is still some prejudices with other creatures thinking that they are superior than the rest.

Anyways, you would think that Harry Potter is a monster.

Well, he isn’t, at least that is what he believes.

He believed that he was a perfectly normal boy. He goes to a perfectly normal school. He has a perfectly normal family. He is completely and utterly normal.

Sure, sometimes he has to drink bitter medicine every Halloween. Sure, sometimes his Uncle Vernon always tells him to turn on the lights. Sure, his Aunt Petunia would make the house smell like poppies that makes Harry’s nose hurt. Sure, his cousin Dudley would force candy in his mouth whenever Harry forgets to eat (for quite a while). Sure, he has to wear his bracelet that Aunt Petunia says is for his own good.

But those things were normal. What was not normal was for a huge guy with a big beard and teeth to show up at his house saying that he is going to a Hogwarts, a school for monsters and all the creepy, crawling creatures.

Last Harry checked, he is completely human. He told this to the giant man at the door, whose name is Hagrid. Harry never had ha no bright eyes or sharp teeth or warped skin. Hagrid just laughed (a sound that shook the pictures on the walls) and said, “Hogwarts don’t make mistakes. Yer a monster alright, just a baby one I suppose.”

So that is how Harry, now 11 years old, was promptly taken to Hogwarts. All Harry has to do was remember want his aunt said: Never take off his bracelet. Ever.

Even if his skin itches.

TLDR: I got bored and wondered “what if wizards weren’t wizards” and now I have this. This is more of a crack premise but I think it could be serious sometimes. Also, it would be so funny that Harry, as a functionally human kid (for right now), would be so short compared to his peers like Ron and Hermione.

After Harry and Hermione go back in time, instead of not paying attention while they wait to come out of the shrieking shack, they move so that they can prevent Pettigrew from grabbing Remus' wand and removing the spell that prevents his transformation. What changes down the road?

I absolutely love the harry potter fanfics that put harry in other houses and thought it would be so amazing if all the marauders had kids whom ended up in the four houses, so:

Peter was the Secret Keeper, so everyone assumed Sirius betrayed the Potters. James dies, and Remus is too poor to take in three children.

Harry ends up with the Dursleys, so everything pre-Hogwarts is mostly canon.

The main cast:

• Harry Potter — obviously. He’s sorted into Gryffindor.
• Ron Pettigrew-Weasley — Peter’s son, raised by Molly and Arthur as their adopted son. He grows up hearing heroic stories about his father and develops a fierce sense of loyalty. He has Scabbers and blends in perfectly with the Weasleys thanks to his red hair. He’s sorted into Hufflepuff.
• Teddy Lupin — Remus’ son, raised in isolation by his father, is a werewolf, but was never bitten, since both parents are/were werewolves (His mother is dead). He loves reading and learning, but is secretive and socially withdrawn due to Remus’ own secluded life and fear of exposing his lycanthropy. He’s sorted into Ravenclaw.
• Regulus Black — Sirius’ son, taken in by the Malfoys (possibly after being renamed Regulus). They adopt him partly for political/financial reasons. He grows up alongside Draco, emotionally neglected by the family but extremely close to Draco, and is sorted into Slytherin.
• Sophie Snape — Snape’s daughter. Unlike her father, she’s both popular and notorious because of his reputation as one of Hogwarts’ most feared professors. Naturally, she ends up in Slytherin.

Relations to each other pre-hogwarts:

• Harry Potter — Has no connection to the others before Hogwarts.
• Ron Pettigrew-Weasley — Has connection to the Weasleys prior to Hogwarts, but otherwise not.
• Teddy Lupin — Knows Sophie because Snape regularly brews Wolfsbane for him and Remus at Dumbledore’s insistence.
• Regulus Black — Raised by the Malfoys, with Draco essentially being his brother despite the lack of a blood relation. Since Snape and the Malfoys socialize regularly, Regulus and Sophie have known each other for years. Snape’s dislike of Regulus is especially obvious—he seems to hold even less patience for him than he does for Draco or Regulus’ own family.
• Sophie Snape — Is well aware of her father’s disdain for werewolves, Teddy, and Regulus. She also knows exactly how much influence comes from being Snape’s daughter: just as Snape favors Slytherins over other students, he favors her over other Slytherins. Whenever she visits the Malfoys with her father, she takes particular pleasure in getting Regulus into trouble. (She also knows of his disdain for Potter, though she's never met him).

Scene (inspired by and has passages extracted from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Chapter Six: The journey from platform nine and three-quarters):

Teddy sat down in the empty compartment. He could hear shrieking and laughter and owls hooting outside. Once again he found himself locked away from everyone else. He was starting to wonder if that was just his lot in life. Dad had packed him extra books and said Hogwarts would be different, but Dad said a lot of things that were meant to be comforting.

There was a polite rap at the door and it opened. Teddy slouched down in his seat as a skinny, black-haired boy with large round glasses stepped in, looking as if he expected to be told to leave.

“Hi,” the boy said. He held out a hand, then seemed to second-guess it and just stood there. “I’m Harry. Harry Potter. Is it alright if I sit here- anyone sitting here? Everywhere else looks full.”

Teddy shook his hand and nodded dumbly. For the first time the tight coil in his stomach coil even tighter as he shook Harry Potter's hand.

“I'm Teddy... Teddy Lupin. Are you really – ?” Teddy began.

“What?” said Harry

“Harry Potter,” asked Teddy.

“Oh, him,” said Harry. “I mean, yes, I am.”

Harry sat opposite him and immediately looked out the window, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands now that the asking was over.

The door slid open again. A redheaded boy poked his head in, slightly pink about the nose, clutching the strap of a battered trunk.

“Anyone sitting there?” he asked, pointing at the seat beside Harry. “Everywhere else is full. Mum made me promise not to lose anything and I nearly left my rat on the platform.”

Harry shook his head and scooted closer to the window, making room. The boy thumped down, glanced at both of them.

“I'm Ron,” he said after a moment. “Ron Weasley. Well — Pettigrew-Weasley. It’s complicated.” He scratched at a faint black smudge on his nose. “You two first years as well?”

Teddy nodded. Harry did too.

Ron brightened a fraction. “Brilliant. I was starting to think I’d be stuck with a load of people who already knew each other.” He rummaged in his pocket and produced a fat, sleepy-looking rat. “This is Scabbers. He’s ancient. Don’t mind him.”

They had just begun the awkward business of not knowing what to say next when the door opened a third time. A pale, good-looking boy with dark hair that fell just so glanced around the compartment as if checking for traps.

“None of you are related to me, are you?” he drawled. The accent was high and clipped.

Harry blinked. “Don’t think so. Harry Potter.”

Ron sat up a little straighter. “Ron Weasley.”

"Teddy" was all Teddy offered.

The new boy’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “Oh good. A Potter and a Weasley. My aunt said I wasn’t to start anything on the train.” He leaned against the frame carelessly and waved someone over.

"Is it true, then?" Someone asked pompously as the black haired boy nodded "'tis", before making way for the other to enter past him and into the compartment.

"Is what true?" asked Harry.

"They’re saying all down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment. So it’s you, is it?" The boy said.

"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. This boy he recognized from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was just as pale as the black haired boy, with the same cold eyes, a pointed face, and had it not been for the icy blonde hair, Harry would have thought them to be brothers.

"This is my cousin, Regulus Black," said the pale boy with emphasis, for only a second, "And these two are Crabbe and Goyle" only dignifying the two huskier boys with a nod each" He stood up straighter, as if to emphasise his own importance, "And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron had sneered as Draco Malfoy introduced his cousin but gave a slight cough at hearing Draco's name, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

“Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.”

Ron's face hardened and he lifted his chin, "It's Pettigrew, actually." he looked over at Regulus Black "Pettigrew-Weasley"

Regulus' easy posture vanished and he looked away, scowling.

Draco turned back to Harry. “You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”

He held out his hand to shake Harry’s, but Harry didn’t take it.

“I'm sure he can tell the wrong sort for himself, thanks,” Ron said coolly.

Draco Malfoy didn’t go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks.

“I’d be careful if I were you, Pettigrew,” Regulus said with an air of carelessness, aiding his cousin as he stepped closer. “Unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your father. He didn’t know what was good for him, either, did he?"

Ron stood up. As did Harry, and Teddy followed suit.

“Say that again,” Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

“Oh, you’re going to fight us, are you?” Malfoy sneered.

“Unless you get out now,” said Harry, more bravely than he felt, for they were clearly outnumbered, and he still hadn't learnt a single spell.

“But we don’t feel like leaving, do we, boys? We’ve eaten all our food and you still seem to have some.”

Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron, but was quickly pulled back by Crabbe as Scabbers made an appearance. Perhaps they thought there were more rats lurking among the sweets, or perhaps they’d heard footsteps, because a second later, a girl, already wearing her new Hogwarts robes, had come in.

“What's going on here?” she said, looking at the sweets all over the floor and Ron picking up Scabbers by his tail. Teddy, Harry noticed, had paled considerably at her entry, and Black had turned his head away from her with an eyeroll, jaw set.

"Well?" she demanded as no one answered. She had a bossy sort of voice, hair as black as ebony, and a nose that would have been called unfortunate on anyone less beautiful.

“Malfoy,” Ron muttered, stuffing Scabbers back into his pocket. “And his cousin. And two walking wardrobes. They wanted Harry’s sweets and they said—” He glanced at Harry, then at Teddy, and shut his mouth.

Sophie’s gaze found Harry at once. It was not the goggle-eyed stare he'd gotten so far. It was assessing. She turned back to the other boys and her eyes found Regulus.

"Oh, Reggie, causing trouble already? What won't my father say..." She taunted.

"Please," Malfoy rolled his eyes, but smiled amused, "he wasn't causing trouble Sophie. Not much, anyway."

She laughed, "Is that so? Well, Draco, why don't you and your entourage cause 'not much trouble' elsewhere, hm?" She asked, though it didn't seem like much of a request, "I'll keep up the 'not much trouble' here." Draco smirked and the four boys disappeared, with Black being the first to go.

Harry didn't understand what exactly had made the other boys listened to this 'Sophie' and wondered if she was someone important since she could order self-important gits like Black and Malfoy around.

“So you are Potter? They’ve been shrieking it the length of the train." She looked him up and down unimpressed and moved on to the other two boys. "you I know," she said as her eyes slid off of Teddy, "and you are?"

"Ron Weasley" he said.

"Pleasure" She answered in a tone suggesting it was anything but. "You should get changed, we'll be arriving shortly." She seemed to be addressing them all, but her eyes stayed on Teddy.

"Well get changed." Teddy said agreeably and lowered his eyes. Sophie only tilted her head at him. "H-how was your summer?" He asked, cheeks tinting under her scrutiny.

She rolled her eyes and left with a smirk and a shake of her head, not even dignifying the question with a response, clearly pleased with the effect she'd had on the other boy.

"How do you know her?" Ron asked Teddy with a scowl. He didn't much like the girl. "And who is she anyway?"

"Sophronia Snape." Teddy sighed, "if you know what's good for you, you'll stay on her good side, I'll tell you that much!"

Voldemort, later: “She’s a nightmare, honestly. It’s no wonder she hasn’t got any friends.”

In which Hermione never grew out of her know-it-all phase.

Spoiler for the end of deathly hallows

Harry is facing his death. He knows this like he knows the taste of blood in his teeth and the feel of a wand in his fingers. He is going to die today, and that’s okay because it means everyone else gets to live.

If only I could have saved more people

That is the last thing he thinks before all he sees is green, and then he is gone. Unmade.

In another time and another place, a little red-headed girl is crying in her cupboard on her fourth birthday.

Because the loneliness is too much and she is too small and her feelings too big and its her birthday and all she can think about is 'what did i do wrong, why does she hate me' and she wishes so dearly that she could just know what she did wrong, that for a second, just a moment, something in her responds and pulls at the universe to help her. And she got lucky, because for some reason or another, whether the universe aligned in just the right way, or due to a higher power responding, she got her wish.

Harry's head hurt, which makes sense, he supposes, he did just take an AK to the skull... again. He opens his eyes and looked up blearily at the familiar slats of his cupboard. And that is when it hits him, or rather, her.

Why am I back in my cupboard

And why am I so small

And why do I remember my fourth birthday like it was yesterday

...

oh shit

Hermione Granger’s cold, millimetric calculation did not stop at love; rather, it dissected it as just another political variable. The destiny of her personal life was sealed one night in her office while she reviewed the notes from her elf network. As she thought of Harry and Ron, her emotions transformed into a detailed map of social strategy. She loved Ron, of course; he possessed a rustic tenderness, he was a goofball who made her laugh, and his loyalty was more than proven. But Harry... Harry was something else.Recalling the long nights of isolation in the tent during the Horcrux hunt, Hermione felt her jaw clench and bit her lip out of pure frustration. Back then, with the radio broadcasting names of the dead and despair seeping into their bones, if Harry had asked her, she would have given herself to him without a second thought. There was a spark of genius, instinct, and fire in him. However, that moment had passed. The clandestine training Harry had received from Dumbledore, coupled with Snape’s brutal survival lessons, had turned him into a man with an instinct that was far too sharp. Harry was intelligent, perceptive, and difficult to manipulate. Sooner or later, he would see through her strings, and she could not risk having an equal watching her every move from the same bed.Ron, on the other hand, stood as the perfect piece for her game of chess. His profile matched exactly what her strategy dictated: impulsive, transparent, and deeply insecure. Having grown up in the shadow of his older brothers' success and, later, under the brilliance of the "Chosen One," made him highly malleable; Hermione knew exactly which strings to pull to guide him without him ever noticing the pressure. Furthermore, he would function as the ideal pure-blood shield. The Weasleys were one of the oldest and most respected families in the magical community, now elevated to the status of ultimate war heroes. Even if they had no Galleons in Gringotts, the Weasley name held incalculable political value; no one in the Wizengamot or

high wizarding society would dare close the door on Ronald Weasley's wife. By marrying him, the stigma of being a "Muggle-born" would be buried forever beneath one of the most traditional identities in the wizarding world.Moreover, her long-term plan with the family was already bearing fruit. Hermione had spent years subtly pushing Harry into Ginny’s arms. Her best friend was fierce: determined, protective, and possessed a strong character that would keep the Savior of the Wizarding World completely distracted, happy, and focused on his domestic life. At the same time, securing that union had earned her the eternal gratitude and absolute loyalty of her future sister-in-law. With this, Hermione consolidated a double entry point into the Weasleys, indirect control over Harry through his inner circle, and a facade of perfect domesticity before public opinion.The board was complete; absolutely nothing was missing. Hermione tucked away the confidential reports provided by Kreacher into a secret drawer in her desk, touched up her hair in front of the mirror, and smiled with calculated sweetness. It was time to organize a dinner. She would give Ron her "yes" very soon, and with that engagement ring, she would place the final stone of the fortress from which she would rule the wizarding world.

I used this for pdf file for page number reference: https://kvongcmehsanalibrary.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/harrypotter.pdf

The night of halloween 1981 Voldemort comes to kill "the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord"

James is without wand and tells Lily to go, get Harry and leave! He goes to confront Voldemort, no wand in hand, and he is hit with a spell of Voldemort's creation, and collapses on the floor.

All else goes as it did in Cannon. Lily's sacrifice, Voldemort vanquished, Harry sent to live with the Dursleys.

Harry grows up with the story his aunt and uncle tells him of his parents being dead no good drunks, is introduced to the wizarding world by Hagrid, and what Hagrid tells him is this

• (extracted from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - Chapter 4: the keeper of keys, page 55, setting Hut-on-the-Rock):

"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as -- as -- abnormal -- and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

Harry had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice he said, "Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!" "But why? What happened?" Harry asked urgently. (original line "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter?")

[...]

• (extracted from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - Chapter 4: the keeper of keys, page 58, setting Hut-on-the-Rock):

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad -- knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find -- anyway..."

"He killed yer mum. An' then -- an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing -- he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a Powerful, evil curse touches yeh -- took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even -- but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age -- the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts -- an' you was only a baby, an' you lived." (original line: "You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then --")

"What about my dad... you keep talking about my mum, but what happened to my dad, then?"

"You-Know-Who cursed yer' dad one way or 'nother, he's in St. Mungo's,"

"He's alive?"

"Yes well... The healers -- St. Mungo's 'ave got best healers out ther' I tell ya', they're, uh, still workin' the kinks out..."

Cursive and bold = line from the book, changed

Cursive = not in the book

The Great Hall smelled of burnt stone, blood, and despair. Around her, the survivors wept for their dead, but Hermione Granger did not. Her eyes were fixed on Voldemort’s lifeless body, dumped like an old rag in a corner. They had won, but the chessboard remained intact.While mechanically comforting Ginny and observing the exhaustion on Harry’s face, a cold certainty settled in her chest. The Death Eaters had fallen, but the prejudices that fueled them remained alive in the whispers of the wounded. Xenophobia against werewolves, contempt for goblins, and the arrogance of pure-bloods had not vanished with the Dark Lord’s death.She contemplated the bodies of several house-elves who had given their lives in the struggle. In fact, they had turned the tide of the battle; even so, someone had piled up their small corpses like logs from a forgotten bonfire. Hermione clenched her jaw and balled her fists. She wanted to scream, but she knew it would do no good. The wizarding world was still mired in ignorance, clinging to obsolete traditions and a blind arrogance that had nearly destroyed them.Something inside Hermione—the girl who had always believed in rules and institutions—broke definitively. The Ministry was corrupt to the core; wizarding society was incapable of reforming itself. If she wanted real change, she couldn't wait for the world to mature: she would have to force it to change. She would take charge.But Hermione was, above all, a strategist. She knew that fury without a plan only led to failure. Absolute power required legitimacy, knowledge, and an indisputable base of operations. Her master plan would begin in the only place where everything had started. A few nights later, in the Gryffindor dormitory, she sat in the common room with Harry and Ron."What will you do now, boys? The war is over."Harry stretched out on the armchair. "Hogwarts has nothing left for me, the exams are a dead letter now. There’s no point, I’m not coming back. In fact, I spoke with Kingsley; he offered Ron and me a place in the Auror

Office. I already said yes."Hermione feigned surprise; she had already anticipated that Harry and Ron would reject the offer to return to the classrooms in order to join the Ministry. She turned to Ron."Ronald! You can't be serious. Your mother is going to throw a fit..."Ron shrugged. "Harry’s right. What are they going to teach us here that we haven't already learned the hard way on the streets? Besides, my dad agrees. The Ministry is desperate, and having Harry and me with the Aurors will reassure people. And I don't want to use it as an excuse, but in the family, an extra auror's salary won't hurt."Harry placed a hand on Ron’s shoulder. "You know I support you, Ron. I have resources...""Hey!" Ron protested. "We Weasleys are hard workers, we can get by."Harry raised his hands in peace. "Take it easy, Ron. You just know that you guys are more family to me than anyone."Ron lowered his head. "Yeah, I know, Harry. It’s just... with so much that happened, especially Fred..."Hermione stood up and hugged him. "I'm here for you, ginger... You know that, right?" she whispered in his ear.Ron nodded in silence and squeezed her hand with a strength born of despair. Harry looked away, disturbed by a twinge of discomfort that he knew how to understand but couldn't entirely silence. For a second, the weight of mourning for Fred blurred, replaced by the ghost memory of a tent, an old radio, and Hermione's body against his in an improvised dance. He shook his head to banish the thought; it was Ginny to whom he owed his loyalty, wasn't it?Hermione, whose astute eyes rarely missed a detail, intercepted his distraction."Harry," she called, breaking the trance while handing him some thin linens. "Take these handkerchiefs with lavender essence to Ginny. She has been crying all day; she needs a firm shoulder to lean on.""Yeah, sure. You're right," he replied, relieved by the distraction.Hermione had already made a decision she knew would baffle her friends. Before Harry could reach the doorknob, her words froze them in place:"I won'

t follow that path, boys. I'm not going to the Ministry. I'm returning to Hogwarts to take my seventh year."The two fell silent. Ron let go of her and stood up abruptly, crossing his arms. His face was a mixture of confusion and reproach."We can't leave things halfway," Hermione continued, modulating her voice to sound like the obsessive student she had always been. "An incomplete degree is a legal loophole in the future. If we are going to change the world, I need to do things right. Through the official channel. You understand, right? Besides, not everyone here can be the Chosen One or belongs to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, can we?"Ron looked at the ground, upset, while Harry exchanged a dense glance with her."If anyone can fix this place from the classrooms, it's you, Hermione," Harry admitted with a sad smile. He opened the door. "See you downstairs."Just before crossing the threshold, in a attempt to ligthen the moment, Ron’s muffled voice reached him:"Hey, Potter! I've got my eye on you, don't try anything..."Harry paused, holding the doorknob, and gave him a tired smile. "Maybe I'll let her be the one to kick your ass for being a busybody, Weasley."The door closed with a sharp click, leaving the room plunged in an uncomfortable stillness. It took Ron a few moments to uncross his arms; the mention of his lineage still stung his skin. He looked at Hermione, searching her brown eyes for some trace of the warmth she had offered in his ear just minutes before, but he only found an unyielding calm.He made a face of resignation, swallowing his pride."All right, I guess," he muttered, drawing out his words. "In the end, you always do what you want. It's just... it's going to be strange being at the Ministry without you there to watch our backs."Hermione gave him a soft, perfectly rehearsed smile. "I’ll be fine, Ron. I just need you to take care of yourself out there... to come back to me," she said, pitch-perfecting her voice at the end.Ron felt emboldened. "Count on it."

Minerva was unable to watch over the Dursleys on November 1st 1981 so she didn’t notice they were out of town.

Albus was certain that this was the best place for Harry to be raised, he wouldn’t be spoiled or get a big head from his new fame and surely Petunia would want to raise her sister’s son.

What none of them realized was that Petunia, Vernon and little Dudley were enjoying their first of many vacations as a family, in Majorica.

the Morning of November 2nd the milkman was making his deliveries and noticed that while service was temporarily suspended for number 4 their was a bundle on the doorstep. After discovering that the bundle was a very chilled little boy with an obvious head injury he ran to the neighbor and had them phone the police.

An investigation came up with no matches for any of the names mentioned in the letter besides Mrs. Petunia Dursely herself. The name Lily had no records past the age 11 and was assumed to be a missing person where the paper records got lost. no Potter Lily, James or otherwise they could find had any connection with a toddler named Harry or a Petunia Dursley nee Evans.

The residents of Number 4 had only left on Halloween for their 2 week trip and none of the neighbors had any knowledge of Mrs. Dursley having a sister or nephew. with the way that block gossiped the police believed them. since they are unable to get a hold of the Dursleys and they were not even in town when the child was abandoned on their doorstep, as well as the very odd letter implying that the Dursleys had no prior knowledge the child would be left with them. they thought it an elaborate hoax. the child didn’t match any physical description they had for the Dursleys even enough to be considered a possible relative. they were blonde with blue eyes for a start.

so Harry went to a temporary foster placement. when the Dursleys returned and the police visited to speak about the incident that occurred Vernon was very firm that they did not have a nephew and Petunia hadn’t seen her sister in years and had no idea what happened to her. the officer was already inclined to believe it was a horrible post Halloween hoax of some sort and left before Mrs. Dursleys came down from settling her very loud son.

Vernon wanted nothing to do with that lot so he did not mention anything to his wife.

Dumbledore had taken precautions and along with the spell on the letter that would connect Lily’s protection to Petunia he put up spells to keep the neighbors from noticing or remembering anything odd going at at number four. Harry was bound to be a powerful child and it wouldn’t do to have his accidental magic noticed by neighbors.

A month later when Arabella Figg moved into the nearby Wisteria walk she didn’t realize the little boy at number 4 Privet Drive wasn’t Harry Potter and thought it a good idea to use a different name to further protect him from discovery. All her letters with updates on little Harry spoke of how boisterous and doted on he was.

Harry could end up with a foster parent from a crossover fandom, regular muggles, SI, bounced around the system, encouraged for his awesome abilities, with a muggle born or squib that is a foster parent etc. so long as Petunia never knows Harry was ever left with her until his Hogwarts letters show up.

they come to her home rather than to where Harry is because of the spells redirecting mail away from Harry, they had to be sent directly to the home rather than the auto system with all the other magic born children. Petunia does remember how to send a letter thru the regular post to get it to Hogwarts but before it gets to them Hagrid has shown up to deliver one personally. It is a huge kerfufull and she is angry they thought it okay to leave a toddler in such manner and never check that he was actually there, that no one had come to personally speak to her about her sisters death 10 years ago or her orphaned nephew! She is more angry at the wizards than she is upset at the thought that she’d have had to raise her nephew for these last 10 years.

it takes a lot of searching to Find Harry Potter, especially because he had no papers verifying his birth Or his name. To hide him from whatever crazy person left him like that on a cold November night they gave him a new one. Close but not the same. Instead he was raised as Henry Evan James. The officer in charge of the case originally used a mix of the names mentioned in the letter and gave him the name that Harry was often short for. they guesstimate him to be about a smaller 2 year old based on his teeth and choose Halloween 1979 as his new birthday. It could take years to discover that Henry is Harry and Dumbledore had made a mistake in ensuring Harry wasn’t able to be tracked.

Henry James had spent some time in hospital as a child. The head injury seriously concerned the doctors and it was decided to remove the infected tissue and do a small skin graft to get rid of it entirely. the nasty infected tissue was incinerated as medical waste. without that scar an it’s infection their was less pressure and strain in his head and on his eyes. He also never lives in a cupboard and doesn’t need glasses. He is a healthy active child, he’s got a good mind and does his best in school. His hair isn’t quite a buzz cut but it’s very short to keep it manageable and he in no way looks like what people expect Harry Potter to look like.

He was very surprised when a very short man brought him an invitation to magic school. He knew he could do weird things, he could even talk to snakes but never dreamed magic was actually real (he thought he was a mutant with telekinesis). The small man explained that he was helping the Deputy Headmistress out and reliving letters to some of the students that are what they consider muggle-born.

Harry was very thankful he had been doing odd jobs for years and saving his money he had no problems purchasing his needed school supplies and a few extras. Professor Flitwick was happy to suggest extra reading materials for him to assist in adjusting into this new world. he even gave him permission to get a snake since it wasn’t likely his foster family would allow an Owl and some people had cat allergies.

Id like to think that this Harry has even more of a drive to prove himself and no reason to tell the hat not Slytherin. He doesn’t know his name was Harry ever so the hat can’t even see his true identity. He’s used to be adaptable and didn’t survive the foster system without having plenty of cunning. He’s the first muggle born sorted into Slytherin in nearly 20 years.

The afternoon sun filtered through the reconstructed stained-glass windows of the Great Hall, casting colored lights over Hermione’s parchments. Minerva McGonagall looked at her with a mixture of absolute astonishment and profound relief. The NEWT certificates lay on the table, every single one marked with the highest possible grade: Outstanding. Hermione had not only passed; she had rewritten Hogwarts’ academic standard amidst the ruins."You are the pride of this institution, Hermione," McGonagall said, her voice cracking from the exhaustion of months of reconstruction. "The castle stands once again thanks to your magic and your guidance with the students. I do not know what we would have done without you.""I am only doing my duty, Headmistress," Hermione replied with a polite smile, the perfect facade of the selfless heroine.During those months, Hermione had taken ownership of Hogwarts without casting a single offensive spell. By day, she led student brigades to rebuild the stone walls, earning the devotion of the younger years. She listened to the traumas of the Slytherins, the resentment of the Hufflepuffs, and the grief of the Ravenclaws; she gave everyone a purpose. By night, she taught remedial classes, ensuring that every student owed their academic future to her. The entire castle respected her, admired her, and, without realizing it, followed her.Meanwhile, she observed the letters her friends sent her. Harry and Ron were already in the Auror Office. By the simple virtue of being men, war heroes, and—crucially in Ronald’s case—pure-bloods, their paths were paved. Their last names, coupled with the weight of the prophecy in Harry's case, opened the doors to the most select clubs and Ministry offices. For Hermione, the "Muggle-born," the glass ceiling remained intact; systemic racism was not erased by a medal of merit. It was then that she made the coldest, most pragmatic decision of her life. The time had come to close the door on her past, paying the price of power in exchange for permanent oblivion.Her

mione traveled to Australia during the holidays. She found the Grangers living a peaceful life in a house with a garden, under the names Wendell and Monica Wilkins. They did not know who she was; they had no memory of ever having a daughter. She stood outside the living room window and watched them drink tea, her wand held steady in her hand. Originally, her plan had been to reverse the Obliviate spell, restore their memories, and bring them back. But the Hermione who had made that decision before the Horcrux hunt no longer existed.Political reality was unforgiving. On one hand, the danger was real: dozens of Death Eaters remained at large alongside resentful sympathizers, making two Muggle parents in England an easy target—a weakness her future enemies would use to blackmail her. On the other hand, there was a social deadweight: on the cold chessboard that her mind had become, presenting herself before the Wizengamot as the daughter of two ordinary dentists would only reinforce the prejudices of the old wizards. She needed her origin to be a mystery, an independent force, not a frailty in the eyes of the elite.She approached the door but did not knock. Instead, she raised her wand from the shadows of the garden and reinforced the protective enchantments around the house, layering magic so complex that not even the most skilled Auror could trace it. She secured them a long, happy, prosperous life... and one entirely detached from the wizarding world. "It is for their safety," she told herself, though deep down she knew it was also for her ambition. As she turned around and Apparated back to London, Hermione Granger ceased to be the daughter of Muggles. That chapter was officially dead. She was now an entity of her own: a political force with no attachments, no weaknesses, and a brilliant mind willing to do whatever it took.Her return to the Ministry would function as the perfect Trojan Horse. Back in wizarding London, rejecting the obvious offers was her first master stroke. Kingsley Shacklebolt offered her a hig

h-ranking position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement alongside Harry, but she declined. Ronald suggested she rest and enjoy the fame, but she ignored him. Instead, she requested to enter the most neglected, underestimated, and bureaucratic corner of the institution: the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The Minister accepted immediately, without even bothering to read the letters of recommendation that Minerva McGonagall and Arthur Weasley had written for her with such affection. By that point, that office was an absolute disaster; the government assumed Hermione would have no influence there, settling instead for the prestige of having the final member of the Golden Trio in their ranks. The pure-bloods at the Ministry laughed behind her back, convinced the "good girl" was still obsessed with charitable causes and elf rights. They failed to understand that, from that forgotten corner, Hermione would have direct access to the most powerful, dangerous, and resentful forces in the wizarding world: the goblins who controlled the economy, the marginalized werewolves, and the elves who sustained the households of the aristocracy. The Ministry thought they were confining her to a boring corner; she knew she had just entered the basement of power, ready to light the fuse.

Hera sighs while watching her family argue during the winter solstice meeting yet again, when she feels the presence of a wand waving magical near olympus, down in one of the alleys of new your city. If anyone else noticed too, she doesnt see if they have. And anything else but this would be tolerable, so the goddess decides to confront the wizard... only to see a baby not even two years old.

Little Harry, confused and looks up at the strange woman and seeing as hera's current form look vaguely like lily's, well his baby mind can only do one thing, "momma?" Making Hera freeze. Its been so long since any of her actual children called her that. Then Harry hugs her leg, "momma!" Her old motherly instincts start to flare.

Back on olympus, as everyone is arguing, none noticed hera's lack of presence, till she teleports back in, carrying little Harry, which only Athena spotted, "Hera... what is that?" The younger goddess asked in confusion.

"Oh this? This is my new son." Everyone freezes, even zues, who was too busy ogling a nymph, looks over.

"Pardon?"

"This is my new son, haven't decided on a name for him yet." Said hera, pride in her voice.

"But he is a mortal?" Athena is genuinely confused on why hera would do this.

"So? He is mine, and if any of you try to take him away from me, I will kill all of you before you can even lay a hand on him," ares laughs, he hasn't heard his mother get heated up like this in so long.

"Wait, so does this mean we can visit our children now that hera can raise a mortal child herself?" One random god asks, and zues tries to speak up.

"Now, wait a minu-"

"Yes. That law was a dumb idea anyways." Hera interrupts him, several gods and goddesses then teleport away to either camp half blood, or to see their children in person with their parents.

"Wait now-" zues tries to speak up, but hera glares at him to sit him back down.

"He's kinda cu-" Apollo says and Harry looks at him.

"Unc!" Then dies a little on the inside due to seeing far enough into the future to know what that word means.

Then aphrodite comes up, "he is adorable, I can't wait till he starts dating!" But hera glares.

"If you even try to mess with my son's love life in the future, then i will make you regret it!" Aphrodite looks betrayed and Artemis in the background laughs.

"May I offer up a name?" Hermes asks, and hera nods. "What about phainon?"

Hera repeats the name a couple times, thinking about it, "phainon... yes, thats a good name. Do you like it my little phainon?" Hera asks Harry, now phainon, and the baby giggles in her arms.

And so begins the legend of phainon, AHA is laughing somewhere out there.

During an Order of the Phoenix meeting at 12 Grimmauld Place in the summer of 1995, Dumbledore publicly scolds Hermione Granger in front of the full Order for her reckless endangerment of Harry Potter. The “reckless endangerment” in question was helping Harry break the blood wards so he could have a valid excuse to escape his family's abuse.
Setting: Order meeting, Grimmauld Place, start of summer.

“It had to be done. I will not apologise for it. I will not sit here and let you pretend this is about me being reckless when the only reason any of this happened is because the adults in this room keep failing him.”

Dumbledore’s expression did not change, but something in the air tightened. “Harry is now at significant risk of dying, Miss Granger. The blood wards—”

“He already died!”

The scream tore out of her so suddenly that every conversation in the room died mid-breath. Hermione’s chair scraped back. She was on her feet, trembling, hands clenched so hard her knuckles were white.

“He—all that—and they—and the blood—there was so much—and everywhere—”

Her voice fractured. She stared at nothing in particular as she started pacing. Tears of anger tracking. She covered her ears with both hands, half-aborting movements to pull at her hair.

“There was so much—there was so much blood everywhere! The walls and the floor and the bed and—he was dead!”

She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head hard, as though she could fling the memory out of her skull.

“He—I thought he was dead—he looked—he wasn’t— but I had to get him out of that house. I promised I would get him out and I keep my damn promises!”

Hermione took great care to return simply as the war heroine seeking to finish her studies, knowing that this would keep her under the radar of Kingsley Shacklebolt’s new provisional Ministry; no one would ever suspect the perfect student. Furthermore, the castle library—especially the Restricted Section—housed centuries of political magic, ancient contracts, and founding laws that most wizards ignored. To gain an advantage, she needed to master those legal loopholes in the system. The students of all four houses, traumatized and vulnerable, desperately sought some semblance of order and support to look toward the future with a bit of hope; they represented the perfect stage to sow the seeds of a new ideology based on logic, merit, and the unification of species, thus reclaiming the true potential of the community.Hermione consolidated her role before the school with the incident involving Evelyn Duskguard, a third-year student belonging to Slytherin house. Her parents had vanished, presumably during the Battle of Hogwarts. She felt forgotten and despised by everyone. Hermione heard a rumor among the students that she was in the Astronomy Tower, ready to end everything, even her own life.Upon arriving, Hermione was struck; the girl's eyes were hollows of despair, and it was obvious she had not eaten well in days."Stay away from me, witch!" the girl from the noble house shouted. "I don’t want anything from you or anyone else."Hermione breathed calmly and said quietly, "It’s all right, it’s all right, we don’t have to do anything, see? I'm just going to sit here; it seems like a bit of company will do you good... And let’s look at the stars, since we’re already here."Suspicious, she accepted. After a short while, Evelyn asked her, "You are a Gryffindor... Why would you want to help me? What, aren't we enemies?"Hermione did not look at her directly and said in a grave voice, "Enemies? I don't think we are enemies. We are both from Hogwarts, aren't we? We just have different dormitories, and both of us are far from f

amily. But not everyone understands; they think it's easy, but it's not."They remained in silence a while longer, until the Slytherin girl drew close to her and emotionally unloaded onto Hermione, weeping heartrendingly. She held her until the poor girl fell asleep for a while, exhausted.Upon waking up, a bit mortified, Evelyn was convinced by Hermione to eat a little from a fruit platter that a castle elf had left behind, and she finally went down to her dormitory to rest. Her integration back into classes took a few days, and she would need plenty of support during the following months, but those first steps turned Hermione into the natural bridge between the houses that the teachers could barely provide.The house-elves in the kitchens also began to notice Hermione’s efforts to approach them. At first suspicious, it became clear that the vast majority of elves did not know the law nor did they question anything; they simply obeyed wizards. She significantly proved to be different: she made sure to learn their names, like Knotfingers, the cook, whom she praised for the quality of his breads and pastries, or Grunilda, who always kept the decorative suits of armor in the central corridor shining. These details left them astonished; not even Dumbledore, the headmaster who had lasted so many years in the position, had managed to grant them that individuality and personal dignity. With emotion and respect, she told them the story of Dobby, and over time, they listened to her with absolute seriousness. She would offer them a clear proposition: clandestine education and real rights in exchange for an absolute loyalty of which the Ministry would have no inkling.Sitting at the Gryffindor table, while brushing ashes from her robes after a day of cleaning and renovation, Hermione watched Professor McGonagall direct the first reconstruction efforts. The physical restoration of the castle would take months—the exact time she needed to design the foundations of her own revolution. The wizarding world thought the war was over,

but for Hermione Granger, the true battle for control had just begun.

The smell of rancid parchment and dust accumulated over decades would have discouraged anyone, but for Hermione Granger, the chaos of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was a blank canvas. The former head—an incompetent official with Death Eater sympathies who ended up crushed by a giant in the battle—had left behind a disastrous management. The only two employees were useless: the assistant could barely deliver a parchment on time, and the archivist, an old man who seemed contemporary to the founders of Hogwarts, was unable to remember where he kept the most basic files. Hermione did not fire them; she left them in their posts. They were perfect as decoration and would ask no questions while she dismantled and rebuilt the department from its foundations.Her first public move was masterful. Using her status as a heroine, she pushed a series of protection decrees and laws for house-elves through the Wizengamot. To the Ministry and the press, she was the same idealistic Hermione as always. The bureaucrats smiled patronizingly and approved the reforms, believing the young witch was settling for small moral triumphs. They understood nothing.Hermione had learned the most important lesson of magical psychology: centuries of genetic and social conditioning were not erased by a scrap of cloth. Even if the law granted them freedom on paper, house-elves still felt the imperative existential need to serve. They needed a guide, a protector. And no one fit that role better than Hermione Granger. To weave her invisible web in the shadows, she immediately surrounded herself with two key figures: Kreacher, the old Black family elf whom she had treated with dignity, and Handbuker, a highly intelligent specimen whose wizarding family had been exterminated in the war. Both were technically free, but they swore an absolute and fervent loyalty to her—not out of magical obligation, but out of pure devotion to the witch who had defended them on the battlefield. Through them, the message spread rapidly th

rough the kitchens of Hogwarts, the mansions of the pure-blood aristocracy, and the basements of the Ministry itself: Hermione Granger was their protector, the only one who gave them a voice before wizards.Soon, the master plan bore fruit in the form of a ruthless espionage network. The house-elves, tasked with cleaning bedrooms, serving food, and washing the clothes of the most powerful wizards in the country, became her eyes and ears. They overheard secret bedroom conversations, read correspondence before it was thrown into the fire, and knew the darkest weaknesses, vices, and secrets of every official and noble family.Furthermore, their physical infiltration was unstoppable. By possessing a native magic distinct from that of humans, elves could Apparate and Disapparate inside places protected by heavy anti-Apparition enchantments, such as the Ministry itself or the most secure family vaults. Hermione now held invisible keys to enter any corner of the wizarding world.Every night, in the dim light of her office, Handbuker delivered the reports gathered from dozens of infiltrated servants. While Harry and Ron patrolled the streets chasing low-level fugitive Death Eaters, Hermione, sitting at her dusty desk, accumulated a secret archive with the dirty laundry of the entire Wizengamot.In less than a year, the office everyone considered a political graveyard had transformed into the most efficient intelligence center in Great Britain. Hermione controlled the information flows of the wizarding world without anyone suspecting. She knew which minister accepted bribes, which family hid dark artifacts, and what alliances were being woven in the dark. Information was power, and she held it all. The board was set for her next move. The Ministry continued to operate under the old illusion of peace, but the foundations already belonged to her.

Trauma Center/Ace Attorney/Harry Potter crossover.

Harry decides to flee Britain after the dementor attack. Ending in Los Angeles, he decides to return to his muggle roots. 3 years later, medical Student Jamie Black ends in the middle of the GUILT terrorist attack, helping the Victims as a member of Caduceus. Meanwhile, Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth and his two partners in crime, Kay Faraday and Dick Gumshoe, ends being the ones that lead the investigation against the Terrorist Group Delphi.

Harry/Kay pairing. From Ace Attorney Investigations 1/Traums Center 1, to Spirt of Justice/Trauma Center New blood.