The Gamer: Multiverse Travel

Saturday, 9 November 1991

Daniel woke up early, stretching with a yawn before going through his usual morning routine. The air in the dormitory was crisp, a reminder that winter was creeping closer. By the time he made his way downstairs, the common room was quiet except for the occasional crackle of the fireplace. He settled into his usual seat, lost in thought.

'Last week was normal, no rumors, no awkward questions from the teachers...' He leaned back against the couch, staring into the flames. 'I guess Ron didn't tell anyone about me. Surprising, considering he could be bragging about defeating the troll'

Not that Daniel would have minded. He had prepared himself for the possibility, but in a way, it was better this way, less attention, fewer complications.

His thoughts were interrupted as his friends trudged over, plopping into the seats around him.

"So, what are we doing today?" Michael mumbled, still half-asleep, rubbing his eyes.

Terry, already more awake, perked up. "There's a Quidditch match at eleven. We could go watch it."

Daniel glanced at him, mildly curious. "Who's playing?"

"Slytherin vs. Gryffindor," Terry replied before turning back to Michael, who looked like he might doze off again.

'Oh, it's this match,' Daniel thought. He had read about it in the books. He supposed it would be interesting to see how it actually played out. "Sure, why not?"

The others shrugged, not having anything better to do. With their plans settled, they made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. The chatter of students filled the massive space, the clinking of plates and silverware adding to the lively atmosphere. After eating, they spent some time in the library before heading toward the Quidditch Pitch.

The stands were already packed by the time they arrived, students buzzing with excitement. Most were from Gryffindor and Slytherin, but Daniel spotted students from the other houses scattered around as well. They managed to find a decent spot in the middle, just as the players were taking to the air.

"So, who do you think will win?" Anthony asked, watching as the teams lined up.

"Slytherin," Terry said with a sigh. "They've had the most practice this year."

"Yeah, because they booked up everyone else's practice time," Anthony muttered.

Before they could continue complaining about Slytherin's questionable tactics, the game began. The players shot into the air, the Quaffle passing rapidly between teammates.

Daniel watched in mild interest. 'Maybe it's more fun to play than to watch. The adrenaline might make it exciting, but from here... it's just a bunch of people flying around. Still, it's better than normal sports, even if the rules make no sense.'

Then, something strange happened. Harry started moving erratically, his broom jerking as if it had a mind of its own.

Terry frowned. "Is he throwing the game?"

Michael squinted at the scene. "Maybe his broom's defective or something?"

Before they could come up with more theories, a commotion broke out among the teachers. Moments later, Harry's broom steadied, and he resumed flying normally. The game continued without further incident, until the Seekers spotted the Golden Snitch.

The crowd held its breath as Harry and the Slytherin Seeker raced after it. Then, in a reckless move, Harry dove straight toward the ground. Gasps rippled through the stands as he crashed onto the field, only for him to stand up moments later, the Snitch caught in his mouth.

The stadium erupted. Gryffindor students roared with victory, shaking the stands with their cheers.

"Well... that was one way to do it," Anthony said, raising an eyebrow.

Terry exhaled. "I'm not sure if that was skill or a near-death experience."

With the excitement over, they made their way back to the common room, chatting about the match. After some time spent reading and discussing various topics, the day slipped back into routine.

Another normal day at Hogwarts, well, as normal as it could get.

Wednesday, 10 December 1991

The morning chill lingered in the castle corridors as Daniel and his friends made their way down to breakfast. The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall reflected a crisp winter sky, and the tables were piled high with warm porridge, toast, and steaming pumpkin juice.

After eating, they headed toward Greenhouse One for Herbology, their first lesson of the day. The air inside was damp and earthy, a stark contrast to the cold outside. They took their usual seats, the glass panes of the greenhouse fogging slightly as more students filed in.

Professor Sprout entered, her warm but firm voice cutting through the morning sluggishness.

"Good morning, everyone! Today, we will learn the Severing Charm."

Excited whispers rippled through the class at the mention of a new spell.

"The Severing Charm is used to precisely and accurately cut something," she continued, her expression turning serious. "However, if used carelessly, it can cause serious injury, or worse."

That got their attention, and the students quickly fell silent, suddenly far more interested in listening than chatting.

Professor Sprout demonstrated the spell, pointing her wand at a withered branch.

"Diffindo!" she cast, and with a clean slice, the branch was severed, the two pieces falling neatly to the table.

"Now, everyone, I will give you a withered plant to practice on. But be very careful, no pointing your wands at anyone, and keep your hands well away from the target," she instructed, handing out the plants.

The rest of the lesson was spent refining their casting before they packed up and headed to History of Magic, which, as expected, was as dull as ever. Professor Binns droned on in his ghostly monotone about ancient wizarding laws, and Daniel had to fight to keep his eyes open.

By the time lunch rolled around, the Great Hall was a welcome sight. The warmth from the enchanted torches, the scent of roasted meat and fresh bread, it was the perfect break from the monotony of the previous lesson.

After lunch, they made their way to the Transfiguration classroom. As always, the room was impeccably neat and orderly, every desk perfectly aligned. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting warm golden streaks across the polished wooden desks.

Professor McGonagall entered precisely on time, her sharp gaze sweeping over the students.

"Good afternoon, everyone," she greeted. "Today, we will practice the Mice to Snuffboxes transfiguration."

Daniel watched as some students exchanged uneasy glances. Turning a living creature into an object was a bit different from turning a matchstick into a needle.

"Mice to Snuffboxes is a transformation spell that requires precision," McGonagall explained. "If performed incorrectly, the snuffbox might retain whiskers, or worse, remain half-mouse, half-box, which is, I assure you, quite distressing for the mouse."

A few students chuckled nervously, though no one doubted she was serious.

McGonagall demonstrated, lifting her wand in a fluid motion.

The mouse on her desk shimmered for a moment before transforming into a perfect, ornate snuffbox. No whiskers, no fur, just polished wood with silver inlays.

"Now, begin," she instructed.

Daniel concentrated, carefully following the precise wand movement. He felt a bit nervous, this was his first time transfiguring a living creature. Still, his skill was high enough that, after one attempt, his mouse transformed perfectly into a snuffbox.

Professor McGonagall gave a small nod of approval before moving on to inspect the others.

Michael groaned as his mouse turned into a rather fuzzy-looking box. "I think mine still wants to run away."

"At least it's not biting you," Terry muttered, glancing at a student who had somehow managed to turn their mouse into something resembling a pincushion.

After plenty of practice, the lesson finally came to an end.

Before dismissing them, McGonagall pulled out a parchment and addressed the class.

"This is the list of students staying at Hogwarts for Christmas," she announced. "If you wish to remain at the castle over the holidays, please add your name."

Daniel barely paid attention. He already knew he wouldn't be staying, he'd be returning to the orphanage for Christmas.

Once the professor finished taking names, they packed up and left the classroom, heading into the corridors as the rest of the day carried on as usual.