In Middle-earth with Harry Potter Sign-In System!

Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The Spark of Magic



As Bilbo bustled back into the kitchen, Kael let out a quiet sigh of relief. He turned his full attention to the glowing blue text box that hovered silently before him.

Hogwarts Sign-in System? he thought, his mind racing. What does Hogwarts have to do with Middle-earth? If the system is from that world, shouldn't I be there? Did something go wrong with my transmigration?

The questions swirled in his mind, a vortex of confusion and bewilderment. He tried to mentally probe the system, asking it for answers, for any clue as to its purpose or his predicament.

But the system remained silent, its only response the shimmering invitation that floated patiently in the air, awaiting his command. With no other options, Kael took a leap of faith.

"Sign in," he whispered.

The text box flickered. The words vanished, replaced by a new, triumphant message:

[Sign-in Successful!]

[Magic Talent Unlocked! Congratulations on Becoming a Wizard!]

The moment the words appeared, Kael felt a profound shift within him. It was as if a locked chamber deep in his soul had been thrown open, releasing a torrential surge of power. The potent energy, raw and untamed, flooded every fiber of his being, coursing through his veins and settling into his very bones.

He heard a faint pop from somewhere deep inside, the sound of an invisible barrier shattering. In the next instant, the magic within him erupted outwards.

The world seemed to lose its weight. Kael felt his body grow light, almost buoyant. He watched in astonishment as the tables, chairs, sofas, and even the teapots on the shelf began to lift gracefully into the air, floating as if suspended in water.

"Oh, my goodness!"

A shocked gasp came from the kitchen doorway. Bilbo Baggins stood there, his eyes wide with disbelief, staring at the impossible scene before him. A plate laden with biscuits slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor.

The sound shattered the spell. Startled by the commotion, the levitating objects paused their ethereal dance. A moment later, as if their invisible strings had been cut, they all came crashing down. The cozy smial was instantly plunged into chaos.

Kael snapped back to reality, his face flushing with embarrassment as he surveyed the mess he had created.

"I'm so sorry, Mister Baggins!" he stammered, rushing to help. "I-I didn't mean for that to happen. It's all my fault!"

But Bilbo barely heard him. The Hobbit, recovering from his initial shock, stared at Kael with a look of pure, unadulterated awe. His eyes shone with a fervent, almost worshipful light.

"Mister Kael," he breathed, his voice filled with wonder. "You're... you're a Wizard!" He beamed. "That's absolutely amazing!"

I didn't even know it myself until a minute ago, Kael thought wryly.

The next hour was spent cleaning up the disaster. Kael desperately wished he could use his newfound magic to restore everything with a flick of his wrist, but he was, for all intents and purposes, a magical infant. He had the power but no knowledge of how to control it. So, they cleaned up the old-fashioned way, piece by piece.

Once the smial was tidy again, Bilbo insisted on preparing another round of food.

Sitting at the dining table, the Hobbit looked a bit sheepish. "My apologies, Mister Kael. I wasn't properly prepared for a guest today, so this is all I could manage on short notice. First thing tomorrow, I'll go into Hobbiton and buy the finest groceries. I'll prepare a proper Hobbit dinner for you, the most lavish we have!"

Kael noticed the slightly timid, overly formal tone that had crept into Bilbo's voice. He smiled gently, shaking his head.

"Bilbo, I can call you that, right?" he asked softly. "You don't have to be so formal. Please, just call me Kael. I should be the one thanking you for taking me in. Can't we just be friends?"

Feeling the sincerity in Kael's words, Bilbo visibly relaxed, a wide, genuine smile spreading across his face. The kind-hearted Hobbit had few reservations, and he happily accepted the offer of friendship.

He extended his hand across the table. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Kael, my friend!"

Kael's own smile was radiant as he shook the Hobbit's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Bilbo, my friend."

With the awkwardness gone, a warm and friendly atmosphere settled over Bag End. Kael began asking questions about the Shire and the world beyond its borders. Bilbo, an avid reader of adventure stories despite never having left his homeland, answered everything he could. He provided Kael with a wealth of useful information.

He learned that the Great East Road ran from the Shire, across the Brandywine Bridge, through the ominous Old Forest and the Barrow-downs, eventually reaching the human town of Bree. From there, an endless wilderness stretched all the way to the Misty Mountains. There was also a North-South Road, the Greenway, that supposedly led from the north, past Bree, and all the way to the great southern kingdom of Gondor.

Most importantly, Bilbo told him the current year: 1340 by Shire Reckoning, or the year 2940 of the Third Age of Middle-earth.

The date sent a jolt through Kael. This was the year directly preceding Bilbo's fateful journey with the Dwarves to the Lonely Mountain. Before he'd discovered his magic, Kael's only plan was to survive. Now, with the Sign-in System, a new, daring idea began to form. Joining the quest would take him across vast swathes of Middle-earth, through ancient ruins and Elven cities—perfect opportunities to sign in at new locations and grow stronger.

Late that night, after bidding Bilbo goodnight, Kael lay on a guest bed that was comically small for him, the quilt barely covering his legs. But it was a warm summer night, and the moonlight streamed through the round window, mingling with the soft yellow glow of the candlelight on the nightstand. Listening to the gentle chirping of crickets and the distant croaking of frogs, Kael's racing heart finally began to calm.

When in Rome, he thought with a sense of weary acceptance. He had been thrown into this strange, beautiful, and terrifying world against his will. He had no choice but to adapt, to grow stronger, and to live. As his mind cleared, he slowly drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep.

The next morning, Kael awoke with the dawn. Hearing the faint sound of Bilbo's snores from the next room, he carefully tiptoed through the cylindrical living room, opened the round green door, and stepped out into the garden. He took a deep, refreshing breath of the crisp morning air, fragrant with the scent of dew-kissed flowers. The low ceilings of the Hobbit-hole were beginning to make his back ache; it felt good to stand up straight.

Bag End was situated on the Hill, offering a panoramic view of Hobbiton below. It was a breathtaking sight, a fairy-tale town of rolling green hills, lush gardens, and cheerful, low-lying trees that seemed perfectly suited to their small inhabitants. For a moment, Kael felt an overwhelming urge to stay here forever, to lose himself in the peaceful beauty of it all.

But he knew he couldn't. After soaking in the view, Kael's thoughts turned to the tasks ahead. He was a Wizard now, but a wizard without a wand, without a single spell to his name. He was hardly any stronger than an ordinary man.

As a former Harry Potter fan, he could recite a dozen spells from memory—Wingardium Leviosa, Expelliarmus, Petrificus Totalus—even the Unforgivable Curses. But he knew magic was more than just words. It required an understanding of theory, precise wand movements, and mastery of intent. Unsurprisingly, muttering the incantations until his lips were dry yielded no results.

Still, Kael didn't give up. He was convinced that with enough willpower, he could produce magical effects, just as young, untrained wizards in his old world had. Harry Potter had vanished the glass at a zoo, and Neville Longbottom had bounced like a rubber ball to save himself from a fall. It wasn't conscious spellcasting, but it was magic.

He focused his gaze on a small stone in the garden, concentrating all his will, trying to make it rise. He strained for what felt like an eternity, his face turning red with effort, but the stone remained stubbornly motionless.

Giving up on the heavy stone, he shifted his focus to a single leaf on a nearby bush. At first, nothing happened. But as the minutes ticked by and his concentration deepened, the leaf trembled. Moved by an invisible force, untouched by the wind, it slowly, unsteadily, began to float upwards.

***

(End of Chapter)

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