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"Shit..." I muttered, pacing the same small patch of carpet I had been burning a hole through for the last ten minutes. "Ooh fuck..." The swears spilling out between stilted breaths helped, a little.
A tiny bit.
They helped me imagine another world where my parents were cussing me out for using them, inevitably using more swears to do so.
Not great parents admittedly, but I'd take that world right now, especially considering... my eyes drew themselves to it almost subconsciously, taking in every inch of the dark wood; a fucking wand, a piece of me that I never knew was missing and living proof of exactly where I had found myself.
"Dicks." I concluded softly; crossing the distance to the bed, my hand hesitating over the wood. It was tempting, so very tempting to just reach out and luxuriate in the feeling, to throw my cares aside and just... revel in it, if only for a moment...
But that would mean accepting it, accepting the reality of my situation, accepting that I was in Rowling's stupid fucking world and I was a few short years from being hunted down like a dog by teleporters with the unlimited ability to make shit explode, driven by pure and raw hatred for my existence.
Did I mention I was 'muggleborn'? Of all the shitty fucking luck.
Okay, it's okay, I can do this.
Touching it again drew the same feeling it did the first time; a mellow, tranquil feeling that rose from deep within, stilling my world and bringing a clarity of thought I had never felt. It belonged to me, it belonged in my hand.
I took a deep breath, it felt right.
"Okay..." I whispered, clutching my wand like a lifeline, the dozen or so plans I'd concocted Mad Max style in my hour of panic flickering through my mind. I winced at just how many of them were some variation of 'get the fuck out of there'.
The 'there' in this case being the entirety of England, obviously.
I sighed, as a last resort it was a good step; I didn't have the clearest memories of the series, but I did remember the snatchers from the film. Unless I was very confident in my abilities by then... well let's just say that despite one of the main themes of the movies being 'don't be a bitch about death', I'm inclined to ignore Rowling's entire stance on the matter given that she has zero experience dying, and I'm currently studiously ignoring my own experience in the matter for very valid reasons.
Fuck you, I don't care about your old friend bullshit.
Suck my cock.
You don't know what you're talking about.
...Does that mean that I'm willing to pull a Voldemort out of fear of it? Obviously not, but I also wasn't exactly about to let an insane old man convince me to commit suicide via my parents' murderer either. Then again I'm not an orphan, so Dumbledore probably doesn't want to make me suffer.
Regardless running was a good, strong option and one that steadied my nerves just having at my disposal. I'd need to develop paths to it; the ability to apparate long distances, or make portkeys, or have the money and potentially the proper legal shit filed to let me immigrate out of what would become that pink toad lady's wet dream.
It would take time, but it was doable.
A solid backup plan in short. Something I could just quietly work towards without too much effort, something that would keep me safe in this new world that I in no way asked for, a safe way out... the coward's way out.
Which brought me to the rest of my plans, and... I winced, okay 'plan' might be a strong word here, these were more akin to tentative directions to explore and hopeful goals I might be able to reach, with a few being more than a little unrealistic. Though to be fair, I'd challenge you to find a teenage boy that hadn't imagined themselves with absurd power.
Some of those 'plans' focused on just studying above my age for combat spells and practising as often as I could, potentially looking for sparring partners that I could trust and the like. Others focused on trying to find new ways to apply magic; the idea that maybe my muggle understanding of the material universe or physics would give me a leg up in some way. I wasn't as sold on these ideas, if it were that easy then chances are some other muggleborn would have worked it out by now; but all the same it was worth a try.
Others... were even more fanciful, barely thought out things that revolved around trying out magical or power concepts from other media, things like seeing if there are any forms of strengthening magic in this world, or otherwise creating it, either through some internal mechanism or creating a spell myself somehow. Reflex boosters, mind enhancing magic... anything that could give me a fighting chance in a few years time I would happily take.
It probably wouldn't happen, again if something is easy then there is almost no chance it would not have been done before by the endless numbers that came before me. But I'd try anyway, it's magic right? Gotta throw all your cards at the wall and see if any stick. And hey even if they don't, then maybe that just means I'm not talented enough yet to get them to work.
Like all things, it's all about intelligently applying effort.
So, those are my plans, or rough guidelines I guess. What's my starting point then? Muggleborn, so I can't practice magic over the holidays, wealthy absentee parent and a good chunk of personal money so I have some leeway there... two years of Hogwarts training under my belt, though this... body? Kind of lived up to the Duffer reputation and did only kind of alright in his first two years. Mentally I had a couple years on my peers, and again muggleborn; maybe that would open some weird muggleborn club doors or something?
On top of that I was a Hufflepuff, and in the films, well they didn't really come up very much, but if I go by my? memories, then Duffers seem to be underestimated constantly and have pretty strong loyalty to one another. In other words, easily sourced support, and an advantage over anyone I'd end up fighting, at least the first few times.
Which feels like a Slytherin thought process, but I guess I wasn't the one who was sorted; this body was and he was kind of an idiot.
Let's see, what else... Well, I knew where the Room of Requirement was, so that's a nice training room and I might be able to get some good books from it. Shit, obviously also knowledge of the future and of less known aspects of magic like occlumency, which... damn I should really learn and maybe just not look at Dumbledore or Snape.
Probably a good idea.
Which is about the end of my advantages. Disadvantages? Again muggleborn, so I have and will be the target of bullying and later hunted to death, lovely. My body's Duffer heritage leaving me a bit on catch up on top of everything else. I can't cast during breaks because of that weird underage law; I could maybe make a pureblood or halfblood friend and practice at their place? Less grounding in magic than my wizard raised peers and a narrower understanding of how this society works, I guess.
In short? Not a great starting point, but it could be worse.
I had four weeks before my third year began, so outside of pacing, where could I start? Diagon Alley? I needed to get my school supplies anyway... Maybe ask if I could stay somewhere, rent something in the Alley to practice. Average London prices would blow through my cash reserves like no one's business, but maybe it'll be cheaper in the wizarding world?
Actually, can teenagers even do that? If we can't drink or drive then... maybe? Worth a shot at least.
That all said, how did I even get to- by cab, with this body's mother, not out of concern but rather her own self interest. Duffer really hated that about the trips.
I hummed, getting dear old mum to pay for the school supplies was only smart, so I'd go with her- on the weekend? Two days from now. I'd have to remember the address she gives the cabbie, Duffer never bothered to learn it. I'd also have to see about stretching her goodwill or just exploiting her naivety about the wizarding world to purchase more than the standard books and maybe some other bits and bobs.
Every little bit helps.
So, two days? I know all too well that if I let this manic energy burn off without doing anything, I'm going to get stuck in a rut and just end up distracted by shit I really can't let myself get distracted by. So I need to do something, anything productive.
Well, I do have my textbooks and two years to catch up on.
-
"Keep up Tom." My parents weren't exactly warm, but this woman spoke like she was calling a fucking dog as we stepped off Charing Cross Road. If I hadn't calmed down these past two days...
Well I certainly wouldn't be going along with this bizarre status quo.
"Yes mother." I replied with the same, overly formal tone as the Duffer before me; long had he worked out that it was the only response his 'mother' enjoyed.
For him it was a survival mechanism, a desperate attempt to please his whore of a mother, for me it was a way to keep her happy enough to keep making with the money.
And by golly do I need money.
So I'd play the role of the dutiful son, and make with all the formalities.
I calmly followed in the wake of the horsey faced woman as she practically burst through the muggle entrance into the Leaky Cauldron, and made a quick, sharp request that saw us guided through the enchanted brick entrance into Diagon Alley by toothless Tom the barkeep.
As the wall came apart in a flurry of magic, only the excessive amount of formality I wearing like a cloak kept me from reacting in some way. I wanted to at least gasp, or maybe gawk a little as Diagon unveiled itself before me, as the sights, the sounds and the magic were suddenly thrust upon me.
The Duffer's instincts kept my reaction at bay, instead leaning me up to look at the expression he-I knew would be on my mother's face: Raw and utter greed, her beady eyes shone with it.
It was a sight that used to fill the Duffer with fear; he actually believed that she could somehow do something with the naked ambition in her eyes. Personally I figured she was just going to eventually ask me to do something stupid -like break the statute of secrecy for fun and profit- and because I hated her insufferable guts, I'd inform the Aurors and she'd forget magic even existed.
...Or end up in Azkaban, or just dead, because wizards are metal like that.
Either which way that's a free education for me, and I'll no longer need to worry about that particular loose end.
Said loose end was one of my largest concerns after spontaneously waking up in this world; namely people realising how different I was. A dead father and an almost abusively absentee mother were practically godsends in that regard. The chances of her noticing my change in attitude were rather small, not because she's unintelligent, but simply because she doesn't give a flying fuck about her son.
Key words there are 'rather small' and thus not zero. It's an acceptable level of risk for now; too small to do anything about because it'd likely just cause more issues, but not so small that I wouldn't happily sign her off to Azkaban should the opportunity present.
Honestly it must've sucked to suck for the Duffer, but the harbinger of his trauma suits my needs just fine.
Following said harbinger into the book store Flourish and Blotts, I found myself staring blankly at a wrought iron cage filled with dozens of books tearing themselves apart in vicious combat. My mother seemed similarly perplexed as she glanced down at me.
How did I go from plotting my mother's murder to rabid cage fighting books?
Sighing, I spoke up. "I think they're for Care of Magical Creatures class, we won't be needing one."
She nodded tensely, and I suspect she would have held it against me if my reading material was actively dangerous, probably for years if I was being honest.
Uncaring past that point she went to explore the shelves, running her eyes down the spines hungrily, but never touching; not after she discovered in my first year that most of the books came with anti-muggle charms. The memory was almost funny to be honest, if it wasn't such a blatant reminder of the racism intrinsic to this world.
Meanwhile I quickly hunted down the Hogwarts section -a singular, thin bookshelf sorted by year by shelf- and quickly grabbed the standard books plus Spellman's Syllabary and Numerology and Grammatica, the textbooks for Ancient Runes and Arithmancy respectively. In reality the Duffer had picked Muggle Studies and Divination for easy grades, but I remember being told I could still switch classes if I spoke to my head of house early enough.
As for why those classes? In the breakdown we were given at the end of our second year, these two were repeatably mentioned to be useful classes that taught the foundation for spellcrafting and runework respectively. And from my knowledge of the movies, it's a safe bet that Divination was less than useless and Care of Magical Creatures often involved the rarest possible creatures that Hagrid could find or otherwise create himself; not exactly useful when preparing to fight a race war.
And just like that I was done, which meant it was time to explore, and see if I couldn't track down something useful. Pausing, I also swiped The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, 5, 6 & 7 off the upper year shelves watching gleefully as more books popped into their place. The charms books were the same year after year so I could sell it as a future investment that would let me study ahead even if mummy dearest did realise.
Charms was the source of a lot of Harry Potter's spells, and chances are I could find some offensive options in this collection.
But that was small potatoes compared to what I found in my wanderings; the fucking curses section, which... wow, imagine finding a discount guns for sale bin in your local book store.
Leafing through one that stood out in particular I found myself blinking in abject bafflement. Blasters, Piercers and Cutters, the Complete Guide to Force Magic wasn't so much a gun, as it was a rechargeable collection of cannons that was really starting to stretch my metaphor.
Well, it's mine now.
I grabbed others like Gavin's Glorious Guide to Standard Shielding, dumping them in my basket; I wasn't quite sure if they'd actually sell this shit to a kid, but I might as well try. If they do then holy shit, this loony bin would be like America on crack.
No wonder we have so many dark wizards.
After exploring a bit more I came across mother dearest, examining a shelf in greedy contemplation, glancing up her eyes lit up as they met mine.
"Tom, could you fetch this for me Sweetie?" She smiled. I blinked then acquiesced.
The book, Portabottom's Guide to Weight Alleviation Charms and Runework had me thinking she wanted magical weight loss surgery for a second there, until it was immediately followed up by Portabottom's Guide to Magical Transportation.
"You'll give these a good read through when we get back, won't you Tom?" Her smile twisted just slightly, betraying her oh so predictable intentions.
"Of course mother, I can think of all kinds of applications for them." I smiled back, placing the books in my basket.
For a second she looked almost surprised, before it was buried beneath something that could almost be called pride. "You really are the apple of my eye Tom."
She seemed to freeze in place, holding her smile on a forced count in some simulacrum of parental affection before the moment was over and she was guiding me to the counter.
Internally, all I could do was sigh out a gentle, "Whore..."
The cashier, or possibly the owner given how well he dressed, was an elderly gentlemen with one of the moustaches of all time, it was very... wizard. Truly, I wish I could develop his confidence at some point. The Duffer used to be genuinely enamoured with such things, which probably explains why he ended up in Hufflepuff.
The warm smile the man gave the us at our approach quickly waned as he found himself reading the titles our more dubious picks.
"Sorry, some of these books are a little..." The man trailed off, staring at my mother.
She, of course, adjusted to stare down at the man imperiously. "Is there a problem?" I had to fight to keep down my smirk; she genuinely thought her books were the issue.
The man blinked, glancing down at the weary smile I put up, as I tried my best to convey a 'what can you do' attitude.
"Uh, if you picked these-"
"I did indeed." She cut in frostily.
"A-Ah, that's not a problem then, let me just tally it all up." The man recovered admirably, turning his attention to an ancient cash register, tapping away at its typewriter like interface.
In the privacy of my own head I couldn't help but revel in my lucky break. Apparently selling children guides on how to turn their wands into rocket launchers wasn't standard practice at my age, but parental consent somehow made it okay?
Not sure how that worked, but I'd take it.
The man rather professionally provided a number that I was only half listening to.
"You still take pounds?" Somehow mummy dearest's response came out as less a question and more of a demand.
The man nodded and I blinked in surprise, searching my memories for- ah, in my first year she tried to pay with a credit card; card machines don't work in the magical world just like all electronics, but they do accept muggle cash for convenience's sake. Too many muggle parents to faff around with explanations about Gringotts and conversion rates.
"There's a 2% markup for the service." The man provided.
"Better than dealing with those creatures." My mother sniffed, dropping some very casual racism; the cashier nodded along.
"Then that'll be two hundred and twenty three pounds, seventy pence." He enunciated slowly, seemingly unused to the currency.
A small frown appeared on my mother's face, but she paid out readily enough and soon we were on our way in abject silence.
Around us other Hogwarts students milled about, most seemingly long done with their shopping due to the late hour we intentionally arrived at. I recognised a few from my year and gave the appropriate Duffer greetings. It was surprisingly easy to fall back on those reactions, they came to me almost subconsciously.
Maybe this whole 'second life' thing would be easier than I thought.
It was after a quick series of stops in the cauldron shop and apothecary to replace my potions ingredients and instruments that I heard my name being called. Looking over I found Susan Bones waving at me, a cute smile on her lips as she bade me to join her and a group of Puffs from my year.
Waving back, I turned to my mother who was already checking the time. "Can I...?"
"Ten minutes, I have an engagement tonight." She said curtly. Nodding agreeably, I made my way over and hopped the fence surrounding the ice cream parlour 'my' friends had taken over.
"Tom!" Ernie called out with a big smile on his face, his blond hair even paler after a summer in the sun. "Mate you gotta talk some sense into Justin, he was..." My roommate shuddered theatrically, to the laughs of the others. "He was trying to big up Snape as a teacher!"
"I wasn't!" Justin protested, a ruddy blush on his snobbish features. "Tom, all I said was that he isn't that bad! Ernie's just being a pillock."
I laughed with the rest, leaning into my Duffer impulses. "Ernie is a bit of a..." I trailed off with a chuckle, enjoying my roommate's squawk of indignation. "But that's a downright traitorous take right there Justin; we might need to cart you off to Slytherin."
Justin blanched as the others burst into fresh peels of giggles at his expense.
"Oh come on!" He whined. "Unless your last name is Potter or Longbottom he's fine."
"Maybe." Hannah threw the poor guy a bone, a frown shyly half-hidden behind her mop of blonde hair. "I heard Snape threatened to feed Neville's next potion to his toad last year, poor guy..."
Susan nudged her friend, a mischievous smile on her face that had Hannah reddening. A byplay that somewhat surprised me; I knew Neville wound up with her eventually but to have a crush on him at this point? Neville was... kinda pathetic right now. I guess they really did belong together, that's kinda wholesome.
"That's nothing, I heard Snape assigned Potter a detention in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid of all people!" Ah Zach, I didn't miss your need to one up every story.
"There's no way that's true." Susan cut in, frowning at Zach. "Child endangerment is a serious offence, that kind of thing just can't happen, no matter much you dislike either of them."
That was... actually kind of interesting; she's wrong of course, Harry got assigned that detention by McGonagall of all people back in his first year, but according to my Duffer memories Susan is the niece of the head of the DMLE, basically the entire law branch of the magical government.
So either she's completely mistaken, or McGonagall was pulling some shady shit and Draco Malfoy isn't as much of a daddy snitcher as he portrays himself to be. Both interesting conclusions.
"Well, I..." Zach trailed off, blushing as his crush Susan frowned at him.
"Oh come off it Zach, there's always weird rumours going around about Potter." My roommate cut in, happy to kick Zach while he was down and stick up for Susan. She was a popular girl, alright.
"Weren't you and Justin the ones spreading rumours about him being the Heir of Slytherin last year?" I cut in with a lazy smirk.
The pair swung around onto me in bafflement, their jaws loose.
"Hey come on, I-I apologised for that!" Justin insisted.
"Same here." Ernie said quickly. "Besides, it was a reasonable assumption! I mean Potter was acting... and he was a Parselmouth!" He whispered the last part, looking around furtively.
"I know, I know; I'm just yanking your chains." I smirked. "Even I suspected him when we found him on top of Justin."
"Don't say it like that..." Justin groaned. "And don't pretend like you're so damn clever, I know what your grades look like Tom."
"And yet my spellcasting is better than yours Eton-boy."
"What? No it isn't!" Justin blanched at the mild ribbing, turning to the others he asked desperately. "Guys? I'm better right?" They turned away with smirks and chuckles.
In reality Justin was actually a bit better than my Duffer body, but that kind of thing is hard to judge from the outside and the uptight boy was just too fun to make fun of.
"Sorry Justin m'boy, but it looks lik-"
"TOM!" A shrill, commanding shout surprised the group and not an inconsiderable amount of passersby. Well shit.
Justin saw the recognition on my face and saw his path to redemption, opening his mouth to rinse me for my charming mother.
"Well then!" I cut in before he could even start. "I'm being summoned back to the dreaded muggle world, see you all at Hogwarts?" I smirked at Justin as a chorus of agreements and quick farewells rang out.
"Later." I called out, jumping over the fence once more and cutting through the crowd towards where I think the yell came from.
"Tom there you are, finally." The banshee muttered, rolling her eyes. "Here, take your bags, we're leaving."
Grunting as the heavy load was carelessly dropped into my arms, I trailed after my mother like a lemming. Four weeks to prepare for Hogwarts huh? Judging by how much I'm struggling here, maybe I should work out a bit.
"I almost forgot but I got you a new trunk while you were busy socialising." I blinked, that was... almost nice of her. "They had some... interesting models, I picked one up for myself even."
Ah.
She was planning on smuggling drugs with it, wasn't she? Better to not comment. "Thank you mother, that was most kind of you."
Hello and salutations to you all, thank you for reading this far and thank you to any of you who leave comments, watches or likes, it all helps tremendously.
I shall hopefully see you all for the second chapter of our Slytherin boi skin walking as a Duffer.
A few things to note:
In regards to pairings I find harem shit cringe, so don't expect any of that.
In regards to the heartless abomination that is Tom's mother, yes, she truly is one of the mothers of all time. Thank god her old son no longer has to deal with her, and her new son is just as bad.
Finally yes I'm aware what giving our protagonist the name 'Tom' is going to do; give it a year and Dumbledore is going to be having Vietnam flashbacks every time he lays eyes on our 'totally a Duffer' Slytherin.