A young boy, barely eight years old, stared at the glowing white panel in front of him.
Although he had read countless fan fictions in his previous life, he had never imagined he would find himself in a situation like this. He remembered dying in a plane crash—just a brief, terrifying moment of chaos—and then, inexplicably, he was here. Floating.
An old man had appeared before him, introducing himself as the God of Luck. The deity explained that due to a cosmic error, the boy's life, which was meant to be filled with happiness and success, had instead been plagued by misfortune. It all made sense now—why he had been so unlucky throughout his life. From falling sick before science exhibitions to losing his admit card right before school exams, misfortune had followed him like a shadow.
To make amends, the God offered to bless his parents in his absence. The boy smiled at that. "At least they'll have a better life," he thought with a bittersweet sense of relief.
But that was not all. The God had one final offer. "You may ask for five wishes," the old man said, "and I will reincarnate you into another world."
The boy had fallen silent for a moment, his mind racing. After careful thought, he had made his wishes.
"My first wish," he had said, "is to have a system to assist me."
"Second, I want infinite charm. I don't want to be lonely like before."
"Third, I wish for the talent of prophecy."
"Fourth, I want knowledge of the occult."
And lastly, with a smile tugging at his lips, he added, "I want druidic talent so I can surround myself with animals and indulge in a life of fluffies."
The God had granted his requests without hesitation, and before he could ask anything more, everything went dark.
.................
Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.
The familiar address echoed in his mind as he opened his eyes in this new world. "So, I'm in the Harry Potter universe," he murmured, letting out a deep sigh. He had been given a second chance, but the transparent panel in front of him confirmed that it came with a catch.
"System," he spoke softly, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions within him. "Tell me your functions."
[Ding! The system is the Diary System. The host must write stories to make Diary Holders believe in the host. The more they believe, the greater the rewards. Gifts include bloodlines, talents, skills, templates, and summons. The host is advised to provide regular updates to become... a better fraudster—I mean, a better wizard. Additionally, anything or anyone written in the Diary will manifest in the real world. The host is strongly advised to write with caution.]
"What?" The boy blinked, his heart skipping a beat. "A fraudster? No way! I'm a good boy… definitely not a fraudster."
But deep down, he had a feeling that this system was going to make things very, very complicated.
"System," he asked after a moment of hesitation, "do you have any beginner packages?"
[Ding! Beginner package being generated...]
[Ding! Package being distributed: Memory Maze, Acting Genius, and the Character Template of John Constantine.]
As soon as the gifts were bestowed, a sudden, searing pain coursed through his body, forcing him to collapse onto the bed. His mind felt like it was being torn apart, but after what felt like an eternity, the pain subsided, leaving behind knowledge and abilities that had been imprinted onto his soul.
Memory Maze allowed him to hide memories and visions, preventing any form of mind-reading or magical intrusion into his thoughts. Not only that, but it gave him the ability to construct false memories—a perfect defense mechanism for a con artist... or a wizard.
Acting Genius granted him complete control over his body language and expressions, making him immune to lie detectors and psychological scrutiny.
And the most exciting of all, the Character Template of John Constantine bestowed upon him the magic abilities and occult knowledge he had wished for.
"Looks like I'm set," he muttered, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes.
After a while, he finally stood up and walked toward the window. The view outside was breathtaking.
The sun, a molten orange just moments ago, had dipped below the jagged rooftops across the lane, leaving behind streaks of bruised purple and fiery pink across the vast canvas of the sky. A few brave stars had begun to prick through the fading blue—tiny diamonds scattered across velvet.
Down below, the streetlights flickered to life, casting a warm, yellow glow that stretched and pooled in the gathering dusk. The familiar sounds of the day softened. The boisterous calls of the vegetable vendor had faded, replaced by the distant clatter of utensils from a nearby kitchen and the low hum of a television from next door.
A small group of children were still playing cricket in the fading light, their laughter echoing softly. One of them tripped, and a brief cry pierced the quiet before being swallowed by the approaching darkness. A lone dog ambled down the street, sniffing at discarded scraps.
The air, once thick with the heat of the day, now carried a gentle coolness, hinting at the night to come. It smelled faintly of dust and the blooming jasmine from the neighbor's garden. The evening felt like a pause, a quiet breath before the world settled into sleep.
"This is real," the boy whispered, his fingers grazing the windowpane. "I'm really here."
.........
Coming to my senses, I remembered that I had to check the new storyline crafted by God. Closing my eyes, I let my mind drift back, replaying the memories of my childhood in this world.
To my surprise, I realized that I was the adopted grandson of Queenie Goldstein and Jacob Kowalski. It was unexpected but comforting. The couple had never had children of their own, having been busy running their bakery for most of their lives. However, everything changed when a vicious wizarding terror group in America, known as the Purifiers, began their attacks. Their brutality forced Queenie and Jacob to flee to France.
Unfortunately, the French Wizarding Ministry had banned Newt Scamander and his accomplices from entering the country, which made settling there impossible. Left with few options, Queenie and Jacob eventually moved to Britain after Voldemort's downfall. They started a new life, opening a small but flourishing bakery.
It was during this time that they met me.
I had been an orphan for as long as I could remember. Even as a young child, I had possessed the talent of prophecy, which I had used to earn a little money to help keep the orphanage running. I vividly remembered the day I met them—I was buying bread from their bakery when Queenie sensed something familiar in me, something pure and untainted. For the first time in years, she felt the warmth of a sincere soul, something she had only ever felt from her beloved husband, Jacob.
Both of them decided to adopt me.
I had been hesitant at first. I knew I was different—I had more magical power than I could comprehend, and I feared that my abilities might scare them. But Queenie, with her gentle warmth and Legilimency, saw through my worries. She revealed her own magic to me, showing me that I wasn't alone. Her kindness and understanding washed away my fears, and I readily agreed to be adopted by them.
For the past three years, I had lived with them, finding a sense of belonging I had never known before. Despite being part of a loving family now, I still used my gift of divination to earn money, which I donated to the orphanage that had once been my home. Most of my days were spent playing in the garden, tending to the plants and befriending the small animals that seemed drawn to me. At other times, I helped Jacob in the bakery. According to him, the bakery always did better when I was around, and I couldn't help but smile at his belief that my presence brought them luck.
As the memories faded, I opened my eyes, feeling a warmth in my heart. I glanced at the wall clock—it was almost time for Queenie and Jacob to come home.
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips.