Harry Potter: The Gamer's Dimension Chapter 1

Hi all,

Here’s the first chapter of HP: TGD. I know I promised the full five chapters, but I’m struggling with getting them out. I keep changing things around, as I am never satisfied with the current state of the chapters. I have finally decided to push through with them and stop trying to reach an unattainable ideal. I will use the next few days to get the chapters out, then things will return to the normal schedule sometime next week. Thanks for your patience.

This is a setup chapter. The real action starts in the next one.

Chapter 1

Nothing could dampen his mood more than visiting the graves of all his fallen comrades.

Thick purple clouds blanketed the sky, mirroring his inner turmoil. The skeletal remains of a castle could be seen in the background, a haunting reminder of a once-great school that existed there.

Harry pushed open the weathered iron gate, which creaked loudly. Every day, he would go to his comrades' graves, as if it would compensate for his failures.

He couldn’t accept full responsibility for failing to prevent the collapse. Some people hampered his personal development and prevented him from fully unleashing his power. Their fear stemmed from the belief that he might pose a danger to others by succumbing to darkness.

Harry limped to the first grave and sank to his knees. He removed a flower from his basket and pressed it against the weathered gravestone. It was a massive structure and the most prominent gravestone in the cemetery, but he was the least welcome, in Harry's opinion. Still, he lowered his head for a brief moment to show respect for the man.

Dumbledore was the primary culprit, manipulating Harry's childhood to prevent him from reaching his full potential. It wasn’t done maliciously, but this didn’t change how it affected the future. Dumbledore, in his arrogance and paranoia, decided to determine the best way for Harry to live. If he had confided in someone and realised the mistakes he was making, things might have turned out differently.

“I sure hope you are enjoying your next great adventure,” Harry muttered. “You don’t have to see how the world burns to ashes.”

The outbreak of the second wizarding war served as the catalyst for the collapse. Voldemort led his forces in an assault on the Ministry of Magic. With the Ministry in their hands, a terrifying nightmare unfolded as a slew of discriminatory legislation was enacted, primarily targeting Muggle-borns and Half-Breeds. Many of those targeted were able to flee the country, but the rest were apprehended and imprisoned in concentration camps.

After years of conflict, the light side was finally on the cusp of victory. By that time, Dumbledore had already passed away, leaving Harry to assume leadership of the resistance group. Despite his diminished magical abilities, he remained the country's most formidable wizard, capable of challenging Voldemort.

Even though they were gradually winning the war, there were numerous casualties. Recognising the urgent need to end the war, Harry sought assistance from the other magical communities. Unfortunately, his request was denied, a disastrous decision that set off a chain of events that would eventually lead to the world's demise.

As Voldemort faced the impending defeat of the war, he chose a devastating strategy that would plunge the entire United Kingdom into an apocalyptic state. Over the years, he conducted numerous experiments and created abominable creations, one of which was a magical disease capable of transforming humans into Inferi. The consequences of this affliction went far beyond the borders of the United Kingdom, causing chaos and unrest in its wake.

Voldemort underestimated the disease's effectiveness. It was transmitted via an Iferi bite, and due to its fierce and bloodthirsty nature, it spread quickly. Within a few days, it had reached every corner of Europe and then quickly spread across the entire world. The unexpected outbreak jolted the magical communities into action, but it was already too late. The world was now facing an apocalyptic threat with the potential to bring about its demise.

Harry decided enough was enough and launched a final attack on Voldemort, killing both him and his Death Eaters. It was a difficult fight, but Harry was able to unlock some of his magic during a crisis moment when he looked like he would lose. That day, he used magic the evil wizard had never seen before, giving him an advantage and allowing Harry to defeat him. The magic he produced that day would serve as the foundation for the magical system that Harry created later on

Following Voldemort's defeat, his resistance group turned their attention to the Inferi threat. While Hermione and her research team worked to find a cure for the disease, Harry and his offensive team took on the task of clearing the streets of Inferi. However, dealing with these creatures proved to be far more difficult than anyone had anticipated, as they grew stronger from their consumption of human flesh. In the years that followed, as humanity attempted to eradicate the Inferi, countless people died, including many of Harry's closest friends.

Hermione managed to produce a cure, but it had some limitations. It was only effective in the first few hours after receiving the infection. But it was enough to tip the scales in their favour, and humanity turned a corner in its battle against the apocalypse.

Just as things were getting back to normal, a new threat emerged, which would prove to be the world's ultimate downfall.

Harry moved on to the next grave, carefully placing another flower on it. This was the grave of Pansy Parkinson, a powerful witch who had grown into her own after leaving Hogwarts. Pansy was one of Harry's last friends to die, and by that point, he had become indifferent to death. His emotions were deadened by the sheer number of losses he had suffered.

“If only things had been different,” Harry murmured.

He hoisted his tired body to his feet and proceeded to the next grave. Harry repeated the task several times before feeling a breeze on the back of his neck. She had arrived late, as she usually greeted him when he entered the cemetery.

"You may want to hurry it along," Hermione suggested. “It’s going to rain soon.”

Harry looked up and saw her ethereal form floating above the ground. Her concerned eyes were fixed on him, who still bore many of the characteristic features of her previous life. He would occasionally mistake her for a living person. However, the gruesome wound in her chest was a stark reminder that she had died.

He made a concerted effort to suppress the dark thoughts that threatened to consume him. If he allowed it, he would fall into a deep depression that would leave him incapacitated for days.

Harry was curious as to what was going on with her. For once, she didn’t begin by criticising him for his inability to leave this place alone. Even in death, she was nagging him.

She continued as if she could read his mind. "What is the point of convincing you that coming here is bad? You’re too stubborn to listen to me. When you are fixated on something, I have never been able to persuade you otherwise."

"That’s not true," Harry said, his voice shaking. "If only you were still alive, I might have been able to deal with everything else that happened."

“You have to come to terms with my death, Harry.”

Harry grimaced. "Have you accepted your death? I really enjoy having you around, but why haven't you moved on? You deserve to rest."

Hermione kept silent. She floated over to the gravestone and examined the name on it.

"I have always liked Parvati. She may have appeared flighty and dimwitted, but she was nearly as intelligent as her sister, and the only reason she didn’t show it more frequently was that her interests didn’t lie in academics. She was always trying to persuade me to get a makeover when we were at Hogwarts."

"I never would have guessed," Harry admitted. "To be honest, I have often wondered why she joined our resistance group. I never imagined she was so brave."

"She was placed in Gryffindor," Hermione pointed out.

"So was Peter Pettigrew. Sorting an eleven-year-old into different houses based on inner qualities is absurd, especially given that people change over time.”

Hermione smiled. "But Parvati demonstrated her Gryffindor qualities when she defeated the horde of Inferi. Her sacrifice saved many people's lives.”

Harry continued to lay flowers on his comrades' graves, with Hermione following behind him like a silent guardian.

After completing his task, he turned to Hermione. "Are you going to answer my question? Why do you still linger here as a ghost?”

Hermione scowled at him. "Okay, do you want the truth? I haven’t moved on because I have been looking into ways to fix what happened."

"You have been spending a lot of time in the library lately," Harry noted. "But that isn’t surprising in itself. Even as a ghost, you cannot stop learning new things.

“I’m not that bad,” Hermione huffed.

"You are correct. Death has mellowed you out. Maybe because you can’t hit me with one of your books when I tease you about your addiction."

"You’re hilarious," Hermione sighed. "It’s because of your magic that I can still interact with books and continue to learn."

“Well, at least my magic was good for something. Did you find anything useful?”

Hermione hesitated and bit her lip. "I have already read through the library's entire collection. Do you think I could discover anything new?"

Harry rose to his feet and patted his clothes to remove the dirt. "You have discovered something.”

"Come take a look for yourself."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“What am I looking at?” Harry asked, standing in front of a table.

The two of them were in the Hogwarts library. It had received the least amount of damage of any location in the castle, making the restoration process simple. Harry had chosen to live in the library, having no desire to repair the rest of the castle. After all, there was no point in doing so since he was the only remaining occupant. For years, this had been his home, and he only left for essential tasks like finding food to sustain himself.

“This is the book I want you to see,” Hermione said, picking up the black book and flipping through the pages.

Harry had cast an enchantment on Hermione, allowing her to interact with physical objects to a limited extent. Unfortunately, he had not been able to replicate the feat with living things. She could touch his clothes, but he only felt fleeting sensations, nothing to fill the emptiness within him.

"The Four Brothers," Harry stated, reading the book's title. “I have never seen that book before.”

"Neither had I until a few days ago," Hermione said, averting her eyes. "It appeared on this table, and I have been researching it ever since.

Harry furrowed his brow as he watched Hermione's expression, sensing something was wrong but unable to pinpoint the exact reason. "Are you certain you can trust a book that appeared out of nowhere? Maybe someone broke through the wards and left it here for you to find. They might have bad intentions."

"What possible motivation could they have?" Hermione asked. "They can't do much to me because I am already dead. Besides, you are the one bound to the wards, so you would have felt the intrusion."

Harry sat down at the table and rested his hand on his chin. "All right, let us pretend for a moment that the book will not hurt us. What’s it about?”

Hermione smiled, glad he was paying attention. "The book is about the Peverell brothers."

"Just fucking fantastic. I don’t need to be involved with that family again."

Hermione kept going, paying no attention to his comment. "The first chapter tells the story of the Deathly Hallows, but it varies slightly from the Tales of Beedle the Bard version."

Despite himself, Harry was intrigued. "What is the difference?"

"In this version, there was a fourth brother named Cyneric. He was also present when the brothers met Death, so there were actually four Deathly Hallows.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Are you for real? And here I thought I was the Master of Death after reuniting the three Hallows."

"You survived the war, but it wasn’t because of some obscure legend. There is no evidence to suggest that it exists, and it’s not mentioned in the book.

"So, how did I survive?"

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps because you are the most powerful wizard to ever exist? Because you have mastered a completely new magic system that only you can use.”

"Maybe," Harry grunted. "So, what was the fourth Hallow?"

Hermione flipped through the pages until she found what she needed. "The story makes no mention of it, but the rest of the book details a ritual that the user must perform to receive the fourth Hallow. I don’t believe it is a physical object, but rather something more intangible."

"Doesn’t that make the book itself the Hallow if it includes the method?"

Hermione thought about his question. "That is a valid point. But it is more likely that someone came across the information at some point and recorded it in this book, rather than being a part of the Hallow itself.”

"Why didn’t they use it themselves?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged.

"There are still many unanswered questions about the entire situation. How did the book arrive in the first place? Why would anyone go through the trouble, given the state of the world outside?"

“I don’t know, Harry. But even if it sounds suspicious, this is a great opportunity.”

Harry drummed his fingers on the table as he considered her words. "Do you have any idea what it does?"

"I need to look into it more, but it involves time travel."

Hermione's words triggered an explosion in Harry's mind. “How far back can you go? Is it similar to a time-turner?”

"No, you can go back in time several years," Hermione explained. “It’s only limited by the user’s magical power. Given how large yours are, you could go back

“So I can go back and change the past?” Harry asked, feeling a twinge of excitement in his chest.

Was it possible for him to travel back in time and save Hermione? That alone was worth it, in his opinion. He didn’t care if the rest of the world burned, as long as she remained beside him.

"There are many risks," Hermione cautioned. "The ritual heavily relies on Arithmancy as there are specific dates that will allow for a smoother passage through time."

"What’s the ideal date?"

"If you want to prevent the collapse, the most optimal date is 1996—"

"No, it is too late to save you. I need to go back further.”

“Harry—”

"What is the next best option?" Harry interrupted.

"It’s 1993," Hermione answered. "But it happens to be the night before you go down to the Chamber of Secrets to rescue Ginny."

"That is fine," Harry said, standing up. "Even if I have to kill the Basilisk again, it will be simple given my current abilities."

"Harry, I need to investigate this further," Hermione argued. "There are still many variables. I’m not sure what effect time travel will have on you. What happens if you lose your current magical strength?”

"Then look into it further," Harry replied. "We have plenty of time to learn and prepare for the ritual. But, regardless of the risks, I intend to do it.

After years of feeling trapped in a never-ending cycle of emptiness, he felt an unexpected surge of optimism and happiness. Throughout those monotonous years, Hermione's presence kept him from going insane. Now, faced with a glimmer of hope for reversing time, he determined to seize it without hesitation. The prospect of risking everything was more appealing than remaining in his current situation.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The following year, Hermione and Harry focused on studying the book and gathering the necessary resources for the ritual. This proved to be quite difficult given the Earth's desolate state, with only a handful of living beings remaining.

They learned that Harry wouldn’t be the one to benefit from the ritual. When he returned to the past, he would be living on borrowed time. According to the laws of magic, he would be physically pulled back to his own time, but without a safe method to return, his body would be torn apart in the process. Time couldn’t be meddled with beyond a certain point, which is why time-turners were so limited.

He needed to shield himself long enough to reach younger Harry and make some adjustments to give the boy a fighting chance. Although it meant that he would die, Harry had no regrets. If he could change the past, he would gladly die. Even though his world was ruined, he was still able to save it from the past.

Hermione explained that travelling back in time would result in the formation of a separate timeline. This could lead to some unpredictable outcomes. However, this wasn’t an issue because he intended to change the course of events through his actions regardless. As a result, it is impossible to predict the future with absolute certainty. The goal was to free younger Harry from his magical shackles and give him a thorough understanding of the magical system he created. With this understanding, he was confident that the boy would be able to face any challenge.

Harry sat in the ritual circle, legs crossed and eyes closed, bracing for what was to come. If it worked, he would go back to the end of his second year at Hogwarts.

Hermione floated around the ritual circle, wringing her hands. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Harry opened his eyes. "We have had this argument several times, and my response has always been the same. This is going to happen, Hermione."

“You cannot survive the trip, Harry.”

"Then I should get to the younger Harry and make sure I remove the bindings Dumbledore put on him. How do you think he will react when he sees me? It will be the ultimate prank."

“You will die, Harry!”

“Baby, I haven’t been living for years,” Harry sighed. "It is worthwhile if I can give my younger self a fighting chance to change things. More importantly, it will ensure that you survive. I should give him a stern lecture about the importance of protecting you."

Hermione's lips pursed. She didn’t believe that she needed protection. "Are you going to tell him how we will get together later on?”

Harry grimaced. "Heck, no. It would be great if our younger selves could get together as well, but I'm not going to interfere. He will be free to make his own choices.”

Hermione stayed silent for a long time. Harry noticed her changing expressions and wondered what she was thinking. Even after spending so much time together, he struggled to comprehend her thoughts. She was clever in that she showed him one thing, but she could be thinking about something else.

"I wish I had never told you about the book," Hermione confessed. "You're going to leave me alone here.”

"No, I won't," Harry replied, smiling softly. "You will be able to move on and find joy in whatever comes next."

There was nothing else to be said. Harry placed his hand in the centre of the ritual circle and concentrated on channelling his magic into it. He had previously cast the tempus charm and now watched with great care as the seconds ticked away. Hermione had calculated the exact amount of magic needed to get him to the desired point in time, leaving no room for error. He stopped when he realised he had used up the appropriate amount of magic.

As the ritual circle illuminated around him, a sharp jolt shot through his chest. The world around him started to blur and he glanced up, desperate to capture one final glimpse of Hermione before he disappeared. Hermione waved at him, and he held onto that image as the world fell into darkness.

Hermione looked at the location where he had vanished with a sad expression. "Maybe I should have told him about the second benefit of the ritual. At least give the younger Harry a warning of what he is going to inherit."

"That wasn’t part of the deal," someone said quietly from behind her. "I am already breaking the rules by allowing him to use the Hallow. But I am afraid I wasn’t being entirely honest about the world he will return to."

Hermione spun around. “What do you mean?"

In front of her stood a tall figure wearing a black cloak, its identity obscured. This mysterious figure was the one who gave her the book and introduced itself as Death. Hermione initially struggled to accept that this being was the entity in charge of guiding souls to the afterlife. But then it demonstrated its abilities to her, which were very convincing.

She had no idea what this entity's motivations were, but she had quickly accepted the deal that Death had presented to her. Even if it turned out to have ulterior motives, it made no difference. They had reached a dead end, and their situation could not get any worse. It was a gamble, and she even doubted herself at times, attempting to persuade Harry to abandon the plan. But she ought to have known better. As soon as she presented the option to Harry, he was adamant about carrying it out, and she couldn’t persuade him otherwise.

“It’s not possible to return along the same timeline,” Death explained. "As a result, he will return to an alternate dimension that is many years behind this one. He will return to the time you predicted, but the world will have some differences."

“What is your objective?"

“Don’t worry,” the figure assured her. "The younger Harry will be able to accomplish everything he desires and more, but it will come at a cost. Nothing is free after all.”

Hermione glared at the entity. If she had a physical form, she would have smacked it right now. She hoped she had not made a huge mistake by sending Harry back in time.

"Now, I believe it is time for you to depart from this world. You have done your part, and you deserve to rest."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Everything was quiet at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was late evening, and everyone had gone to bed, though some may have had a restless night due to the attacks on the students. Furthermore, the Board of Governors had removed Headmaster Dumbledore, making the occupants even more concerned.

Harry Potter was one of those people who remained awake. He had been having sleepless nights ever since Hermione had been petrified. He didn’t know he was so upset. It wasn’t like Hermione's life was in danger. Once the mandrakes had matured, the draught would be prepared, and all of the petrified students would be cured. Even so, it didn’t make him feel any better. Someone had dared to attack Hermione, and they were still lurking in the castle, waiting for their next victim.

He rose from his bed, having given up on getting any sleep, and grabbed his glasses from the bedside table. Getting to his feet, he padded silently to the window and looked out at the grounds below. He could see Hagrid's hut, but there were no signs of life. Hagrid had been taken to Azkaban simply because the Minister of Magic wanted to be seen doing something.

“Bloody moron,” Harry grumbled.

This year marked a significant shift in Harry's attitude. When he first arrived at Hogwarts, he felt shy and overwhelmed by his new surroundings. Adjusting to this unfamiliar environment was difficult for him, and he would have struggled even more without Ron and Hermione's support.

At the start of his second year, he was more confident. Knowing that he had Hogwarts to call home, which was far away from his relatives, helped him a lot. With that confidence, he set a goal of not slacking off and improving his grades, which delighted Hermione. Despite significant progress in theoretical classes, he continued to struggle with neglected subjects. The frustrating thing was that he felt he could do better, but something was preventing him from reaching his full potential. Maybe he was kidding himself and just wasted a good wizard.

That is what he believed until the incident with Justin Finch-Fletchly. By that point, the incident with the snake had occurred, and he was already receiving looks and snide remarks from the other students. Because he was a parselmouth, he must be dark. Harry didn’t take the negative attention well and began to withdraw back into his shell. Then Justin said some nonsense, and Harry reacted angrily.

Without using a wand, he levitated the boy with his magic and threw him across the Great Hall, in front of all the professors and students. It resulted in his detention and a visit to Dumbledore's office. After Justin was petrified, everyone seemed to make up their minds about him and believe he was responsible for the attacks. What followed was a depressing year in which he was isolated from the rest of the school after the students turned against him. Only Hermione and Ron remained loyal to him, despite facing some backlash. Some people quietly supported him, but they didn’t want to be subjected to abuse by stating it openly.

He was kicked off the Quidditch team, but Oliver had no choice in the matter. The other teams refused to play Gryffindor if he wasn’t removed. Harry blamed the professors more than the captain because they should have put a stop to all the nonsense. There was no evidence that he attacked the students, though he could see how bad it looked when he was caught at the scene of the crime.

If there was one good thing to come out of the ordeal, it was that he learned not to take anyone's crap. He was much more assertive and willing to express his opinions. He no longer held Dumbledore in awe, having seen the mistakes the headmaster had made this year, let alone last year.

An explosion erupted from the depths of the Forbidden Forest, jolting Harry out of his thoughts. It appeared for a few seconds and then vanished just as quickly.

“What the hell was that?”

The explosion occurred deep in the forest, far from the school. Given how many strange things had happened in the magical world, there was no immediate cause for concern. The school would be unaffected as long as it stayed in the forest.

Harry gave up after several minutes of watching and returned to bed. Whatever it was, he was sure it had nothing to do with him.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The clearing in the forest looked like the aftermath of an explosion, with the ground charred black and small fires still burning, casting an eerie glow over the surroundings. Amidst the devastation, a figure sat, looking around with a curious expression. He knew where he was right away because he had performed the ritual in his previous timeline, in what used to be the Forbidden Forest. There should have been no deviations, and he should have arrived at the same location.

Harry grimaced and leaned forward, coughing up a mouthful of blood and feeling as if his insides had been sliced with a hundred knives. The pain was so intense that he spent the next few minutes curled up in a ball, hoping it would subside.

He gritted his teeth and stood up, realising he was on borrowed time and the pain wasn’t going to get any better. Only to see that a figure had appeared in front of him, dressed in a black cloak, its features obscured.

“Who the hell are you?” Harry asked.

“Death.”

“Really?” Harry asked. "I didn’t expect to be greeted by such a prestigious entity."

“I wish to speak to you.”

"Are you here to take me on your chariot to the underworld? Sorry, but you will have to wait until I complete my task first.”

Death ignored his words. When he raised his hand, everything around Harry fell silent.  He looked around and noticed that the flames on the ground had frozen.

"That's a handy trick,” Harry said. “Even with all my power, I can’t freeze time.”

"I don’t want to be interrupted by the forest's denizens, so it was necessary. You will notice that your injuries have been postponed so that we can have plenty of time for our discussion."

It was only then that Harry noticed that he wasn’t suffering from any pain anymore. He stood up and expected his body, but didn’t notice any visible injuries. The damage was on the inside. Already, his body was sustaining damage as magic itself was trying to pull him back to his time.

“My body needs some inner protection," Harry muttered.

Harry raised his hand, summoning a magical shield to envelop himself. A green light bathed his body before it vanished beneath his skin. He created the spell that would protect him from internal injuries caused by physical trauma.

“That won’t protect you for long,” Death said.

“No kidding,” Harry said. “Now, what do you have to tell me?"

“Do you know the nature of the fourth Hallow?”

Harry cocked his head. “Isn’t it just to allow me to travel back in time?”

Death shook his head. “Travelling that far back in time is impossible. The true power of the Hallow is that it allows you to travel to an alternate dimension. The world you came back to differs slightly from your old one.”

Harry tensed up. "Do Harry and Hermione exist in this dimension? Are they still alive?”

Death let out a chuckle, a dry rasping sound that sent shivers down Harry's spine. “Is that all you are worried about? Aren’t you upset that the Hallow didn’t work as intended?”

Harry waved a hand dismissively. “As long as those two are alright, everything else is an afterthought. Why did Hermione tell me that it was time travel?”

“Because I led her to believe that was the case,” Death said. “Don’t blame her for how I manipulated things, as I was desperate for you to activate the Hallow. It’s the last option that I …”

Harry waited for Death to finish after he trailed off, but the entity remained silent. “What exactly do you want?”

“In truth, the Hallow carries another power,” Death said. “Currently, you are the carrier, but it won’t initialise because your body is already too badly damaged.”

“What does that even mean? You want me to pass it on to the younger Harry?”

“Yes. This power will allow the boy to change things to ensure this world doesn’t meet the same fate as your own.”

"So the apocalypse occurs here as well?" Harry groaned. “What do you get out of this?”

“Survival,” Death answered. "Before you continue, you must understand that you cannot simply unlock Harry's magic and hand him the key to the magical system you created. It will most likely kill him in his current state."

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Then what do you propose?”

“A game. I would like the boy to play a game. Do you want to take part in it?”

So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Harry is introduced to the system and enters his first dungeon.

Thanks for reading.