In Hogwarts, multiverse and more with gacha

As the train screeched to a stop, we got up and made our way out, passing the half-giant who was busy herding the first-years like a massive, hairy sheepdog.

Hagrid, right? He was supposed to be a professor this year, wasn't he? Care of Magical Creatures, if I remembered correctly.

The carriage rocked as it started moving, pulled by Thestrals I still couldn't see. Which, honestly? Felt like a ticking time bomb. Sooner or later, I'd probably earn my VIP pass to the "Congrats, You Can See Death Horses" club. Yay.

Crabbe and Goyle sat across from me, stuffing their faces like they hadn't eaten in weeks.

From a distance, Hogwarts loomed over the landscape, all dramatic towers and glowing windows.

I leaned back, watching the scenery pass by. My brain was still catching up with everything.

Transmigrated? Check.

Gacha system? Check.

Terrible home life? Double check.

Impending magical and/or technological apocalypse? Yep, that too.

"You think Black is gonna come for Potter?" Goyle asked, breaking the silence.

Oh, right. Sirius Black. The current big bad of the year.

If canon was still somewhat intact, he'd break into the castle a few times, scare some kids, slash up the Fat Lady's portrait, and then, boom plot twist, he's actually innocent.

"He should, considering what's written in the newspaper," I said with a shrug.

"Didn't your father tell you anything?" Crabbe asked, stuffing another chocolate frog into his mouth.

I snorted. "No. What about you two?"

Crabbe shook his head. "Nope."

Goyle grunted. "Neither."

Yeah, that tracked. The so-called future of the Malfoy bloodline didn't even get a briefing on a supposedly dangerous mass murderer running loose. Not that I was complaining less pure-blood propaganda for me to suffer through.

Honestly, I didn't doubt it. The Death Eater parents probably didn't want to drag their kids into this mess unless they were absolutely sure of victory. No point risking their little heirs if the war wasn't guaranteed to end in their favour.

And with Dumbledore still kicking? Yeah, certain victory wasn't exactly on the menu.

For all the old man's flaws and there were many he was still the biggest roadblock to any grand pure-blood domination plans.

Dumbledore was like Charles Xavier, preaching coexistence, while Grindelwald had been Magneto, ready to do what was necessary.

And honestly? Maybe Grindelwald had the right idea.

The Muggles weren't just advancing; they were accelerating. The atomic bomb wasn't a fluke it was a warning. A line crossed. And what did the wizarding world do?

Nothing.

They sat in their crumbling castles, safe in their delusions, while the Muggles built weapons that could wipe out entire cities with a button press.

How long before someone in power found out about magic? How long before paranoia set in?

The masquerade wouldn't last forever.

And when it broke, the response wouldn't be diplomacy. It would be extermination.

First, the fear. Then the laws. Then the purges.

They'd come with guns, drones, satellites things magic had no answer for. And when the fighting was over, when the wizarding world was reduced to smoking ruins, the survivors wouldn't be left alone.

They'd be taken. Studied.

Because that's what Muggles did to things they didn't understand. They dissected them.

And if even a fraction of the horror stories about the Department of Mysteries were true, wizards weren't any better.

The carriage jolted again, snapping me back to reality.

Hogwarts loomed ahead, all warm lights and ancient stone, looking every bit like the magical wonderland people made it out to be.

But I knew better.

This wasn't just a school. It was a battlefield waiting to happen. A ticking bomb, sitting right on the fault line between the past and the future. Wizards were too blind to see it, too stuck in their old ways to realise that the world outside was changing faster than they could keep up.

And me?

I wasn't planning to go down with them.

I needed power. Not just the flashy, spell-slinging kind, but real control the kind that made sure you weren't just another name on the casualty list when everything went to hell.

Because it would go to hell.

History didn't lie. Every empire that thought it was untouchable eventually fell. Every ruling class that ignored progress got wiped out. And wizards? They were making all the same mistakes.

The difference was, I wasn't planning to be collateral damage.

I needed strength enough to take down whatever threat came at me, be it Death Eaters, Dementors, or a bloody Muggle army.

I needed to be smart enough to see the threats before they saw me.

I needed influence enough to pull the right strings, shape the right narratives, and make sure that when the war started, I wasn't just another pawn on the board, but the one manipulating the pieces before the game even began.

Because when the war came and it would come I wouldn't be caught in the crossfire.

And most of all, I needed to move fast.

Because right now, I was still just Draco Malfoy.

And that wasn't nearly enough.