Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This was the last thing harry had expected when awoke from the black hole that was blissful sleep. It felt surreal. There, before him, was his own body, laying curled in the fetal position, in the cupboard under the stairs. The scene had all colour bled from it, and seemed to be either completely still, or moving in slow motion. There was a black and green screen in front of his, with a ridiculous and bone-chilling message written on it.

-|Game Over|-

Player [Mammon]’s Avatar has died. 

Player [Mammon] has the following options:

>Delete save file and restart game<

>Pick up from last save<

>Resume from place of death with a penalty<

Harry was at a loss for what to do. He absently noted the similarities that, whatever had happened, was similar to the video games that Dudley played. It said he had died. No, that his body had died. So that meant that… this thing, viewed his body as the avatar, and himself, his soul or conscience, as the player. So, deleting his save file and restarting, meant that he would… restart his life? But then, since he couldn’t remember anything like this happening before, this could’ve happened before. So he wouldn’t remember any of his life, would he? And picking up from his last save would’ve been ideal, but then, he didn’t know when his last save was. So that option was also out. His final option was restarting from when he died, but with an unknown penalty… this was undoubtedly the best option, right? It had to be, he wanted to remember who he was, after all. With his mind made up, he reached out and selected the third option. His world once again went black.

When he woke up the next time, he was no longer having an out of body experience. Instead, he was back inside the cupboard under the stairs. He resolved himself to finding out what the hell was going on. As far as he could tell, it was night. There were no footsteps, nor creaking floorboards, and there was hardly any light filtering through the grate on the cupboard door. He couldn’t get back to sleep, he knew it, his mind was in a flurry over the events that had taken place; or rather, event, as hardly anything happened. It was just one thing that was singularly confusing.

He tried to calm down, to center his mind and focus. He regulated his breathing, like the monks in the movies he listened to from his cupboard. He could soon hear the skittering of the spiders from the corners of his cupboard, and the crickets’ choir chirping from the open kitchen window, the leaves of the trees fluttering in the wind. He could hear the birds chirping, bees buzzing, dogs yipping, the early morning chatter of the neighbors-

His aunt’s sharp voice as she harshly wrapped on the door to the cupboard. “Boy! Get up! Breakfast isn’t going to make itself.”

Where he once might have wanted to lash back at her for disturbing his sleep, he was calm for once, and knew that talking back only ever got him less food. “Coming, aunt Petunia.” he said in a neutral voice.

It was strange, he realized, as he was going through the motions of making bacon and eggs, that he wasn’t the slightest bit tired, despite having stayed awake for a good part of the night. He weirdly, didn’t feel hungry either, even though before that strange dream-death-thing, he had been starving. He heard a beep, and looked at the timer on the oven, then to the bacon that was still cooking inside the frying pan. Weird. He went back to his thoughts; so, he didn’t feel sleepy, or the effects of not sleeping, nor did he feel hunger. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t have cramps from sitting in one place for too long, or the regular aches and pains that he usually had; his legs hadn’t fallen asleep either.

He divided the bacon into two Dursley-sized portions, and one Petunia-sized portions. Dudley got three eggs, uncle Vernon got five, and aunt Petunia got two. The toaster popped, and he set to buttering four pieces of bread, setting the next four pieces afterwards, and three more after that.

The… box type thing had looked like something out of a game. He should call it the Game System then, right? So then, the box was a menu. If the Game System viewed his life as a game, then he would be playing something along the lines of “the Game of Life”. Would that mean that he has some type of status menu-?

The pop up of another black-green status box scared Harry, making him drop the toast he held in his hand onto the floor, buttery side down of course. He stopped clutching the knife like it was his last hope, and put it on the counter, picking up the toast, he put it aside, knowing that it was going to be his piece, if only because it fell on the floor. He was only lucky that it had butter on it, in addition to the dirt that his cousin tracked into the house. He willed the screen away, noting that he could now see three bars in his vision. One was green with the label “Hp”, the one under that was labeled “Mp” and was a purple-y-pinkish colour that Dudley would scream about if he ever found it on his clothes. The last one was light blue, had the label “Sp”, and was already slightly depleted, reading 24/28.

He set the toast on the plates, and the plates at the table, before heading outside to get ahead on his chores, with his floor-toast in his mouth. As he ate, he noticed the Sp bar filling back up. So did that mean it represented hunger? But he didn’t feel hungry. It started slowly going back down when he finished eating and started weeding the garden, pulling thorns and prickles out of his fingers along the way. Hp was likely health or hit points, and Mp was probably mana or magic points- Wait-

He jerked back in surprise, pulling out a particularly tough plant from the rose thicket, but also landing himself on his back, and spraying dirt every which way. He spit the soil out of his mouth and continued.

-Did that mean that magic was real? Or was it only him who could perform magic? He didn’t know whether the Game of Life was a single-player or multiplayer game. He didn’t know a lot of things… back on track though, what is Sp? Skill points? Soul points? Sardine points?

He smiled to himself at that last one. He took the hose out of the shed, and hooked it up to the water main, holding it with his thumb in front of the nozzle, making sure the water sprayed evenly, before watering the roses and other flowers.

Harry sighed, or should it be Mammon now? He just really couldn’t do anything without new information regarding either the Game of Life, or just video games in general. He heard a bell sound, and looked towards the other side of the street, where the paperboy was throwing another paper, before speeding up on his bicycle. He turned the water off and put the hose back in the shed, but getting out the push mower in its place. He mowed the lawn until it was even, before checking that his hand-me downs were dry and free of dirt and then heading inside to do whatever his relatives wanted him to do.

Chapter Text

Harry/Mammon sat in his cupboard that night, and started on his benign plan on getting more information. Status menu, he thought, and just like before, another black-green box popped up.

Now that he could actually focus on it, he could see that it was divided into four sections. The first one, in the top left had his full name as a subheading. Harry J. Potter-Black . So now he knew his last name was either Potter or Black, he just didn’t know which. But, if he ever needed it, Harry/Mammon decided to use Black, because that sounded infinitely cooler than Potter. Underneath it was three things that read “race, job, and class”. Race was both self-explanatory, and yet not. It said, “Race: magus”. He had never heard of magus before. Class said “none” next to it. And “job” was both insulting and true. “Slave”.

The one next to that read “stats”, and had several short form words, including, “Mp, Sp, and Hp” as well as, “Con, Spd, Wis, and Str”. Each had a number next to it, or a fraction. Beside Mp, Sp, and Hp, there was some sort of equation that made his head spin. Underneath that one, was a box that was labeled “skills”. His “active skills” were [Cleaning], [Cooking], [Gardening], and [Sprint], each with what he assumed was a level next to it. His highest level skill was [Cleaning Lv.7]. His “passive skills” were [English Lv.4] and [Parallel Thought Lv.2], which was apparently new.

The final box read “afflictions”, and he somewhat expected “freakishness” to be recorded there. Instead, there were three other things. Something called a “blood curse” that had a wacky title; a “soul binding”, whatever that was, with two names underneath: a normal one, “Tom Riddle”, and a weird one, “Voldemort”. The final thing was something he should have expected. [Penalty]. It had said, “resume with a penalty,” even if he hadn’t really known what it meant at the time. What scared him though, was the name of the penalty.

{No Life King: Nosferatu}

Shocked, he reached forward and touched the title with his hand, only to have another box pop up.

No Life King: Nosferatu

The Undead King who was given the name of {Nosferatu} by the God of death, Hallows. Undead creatures are both friendly and subservient, while dark creatures are only friendly. Living creatures are likely to be wary of the Undead King.

He read over the text, his face growing pale. He reached out again, thinking that if he touched the this he was curious about, it would give him more context. He was right. He tapped on “Undead”.

Creatures: Undead

The Undead are a subclass of creatures, often associated with Dark creatures, even though any creature can become an Undead. Undead do not need to eat, sleep, breathe, drink, or otherwise. Magic oriented Undead are skilled with all types of magic but are most skillful with Death attribute magics. Some types of undead are: 

Ajin, Banshee, Boggart, Dementors, Draugr, Ghosts, Ghouls, Lich, Revenant, Skeleton, Vampires, Wraiths, Zombies

Harry sat, face startlingly blank, and tried to absorb the information that he was given. He dragged the two popups out of the way of the first screen, and each other. The… status screen, he would call it, was telling him that he was some type of king, whose subjects were the undead. Why was a human, magus, whatever, leading the undead? He was an unwanted orphaned freak, why in the world would he be a king? Or was is metaphorical, meaning something else, like that he held a lot of power? But that didn’t make any sense either, he didn’t hold any power. And even if he did, what would that power pertain to? 

His eyes widened, and his mouth went dry, when he caught the meaning of his title. He, Harry, Mammon, whoever, was an undead. He quickly looked back at his status screen, to see that, now, next to “Race,” it said [Magus (Lich)]. Lich? What exactly was a lich? Was it bad? Did it-? Harry/Mammon took a deep breath, before letting it out. Focus . What is a lich?

Harry/Mammon dismissed the other two screens detailing the undead with a mere thought, and tapped [Lich] on his status screen.

Undead: Liches

???

Well that could’ve been more helpful… Oh well.

Harry/Mammon scrunched up his face in concentration. One of the previous popups said that the undead had no need to eat or sleep, so he was going to take advantage of that. No more starving because of his relatives. He looked back at his skills, and put together that actions he took could turn into skills that he could perform and advance in. His job might’ve been slave because he considered himself that, or because his relative thought of him like that. He had 8 Skill Coins, whatever those did.

He clicked [Skills], and a large menu with a long list of skills, with a number next to them. Oh, that’s what Skill Coins are for. He read through some of the descriptions. [Hide Presence] seemed useful in his situation, and it cost 4sc, which left him with four. He bought it, and saved the rest of his points for later.

{Skill, [Hide Presence Lv.1] learned!}

Harry/Mammon leaned back with a sigh. Now what?

Without much to do, Harry/Mammon started to practice the math that he’d been taught in class.

2*5 = 10

1*3 = 3

3*5 = 15

10*5 = 50

4*2 = 8

0*10 = 0

5*5 = 25

2*7 = 14

4*4 = 16

3*3 = 30

3*6 = 18

5*1 = 5

2*2 = 4

3*3 = 12

4*5 = 20

{Skill, [Arithmetic Lv.1] learned!}

The rest of the night went much the same.

Chapter Text

By the time morning had come, and the sun had risen above the skyline, Harry/Mammon had raised his [Arithmetic] skill to Lv.6. When Petunia came down the stairs, she for once, did not knock on the door to the cupboard, and instead, Harry/Mammon heard her start making breakfast herself.

Is that the effect of [Hide Presence]?

Harry/Mammon realized he had never looked at it outside the simple base description. He opened up his menu, and saw that [Hide Presence] was listed as a passive skill, making it constantly active. There was also [Parallel Thought] and [Arithmetic]. He decided to read through the descriptions, while Petunia was preparing breakfast for the whales.

[Hide Presence]: People are less likely to notice you, remember you, remember details about your person, or think about things concerning you. This effect can be counteracted by deliberately drawing attention to yourself. This effect is ineffective against people with training in the Mind Arts.

[Parallel Thought]: You are able to perform an action fluidly, while thinking about something else.

[Arithmetic]: Basic math skills.

Harry/Mammon could hear Dudley and Vernon come down the stairs. He listened in while they were discussing how they planned their day.

“-day, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. I was planning on taking little Duddykins to the park this morning, and then to the fairgrounds later this afternoon, so we’ll be eating out.” Petunia tittered, “Hopefully it won’t rain. Do you have any idea when you’ll get home tonight? I was planning on making beef roast and mashed potatoes, but I can’t decide between steaming carrots or broccoli.”

Dudley objected loudly, “I don’t want veggies! They’re yucky!”

“You don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to, sweetums.”

“I’ll be coming back earlier than usual. I’m only going because it’s Pete’s promotion party,” Vernon huffed, “He lords his abnormal work ethic over us normal folk, but he’s favoured by Manager Harington.”

{Skill, [Eavesdropping] learned!}

Petunia started on clean up, as sounded by the clinking of silverware, glass, and fine china, and Dudley ran past the cupboard door, into the living room, where he heard him turn on the telly. Vernon, went back upstairs and returned later, supposedly ready for work. He called out a goodbye, and the sound of the door opening was quickly followed by it slamming back shut.

Harry/Mammon still wasn’t let out of the cupboard, and he was starting to get antsy. He was usually in the garden, doing his chores by now. He wanted out, so he could see what other skills he could get. He heard the water turn off, as Petunia continued to wash the dishes. He wanted out, but he also didn’t want to interact with any of the residents of this house.

For the first time, he considered running away. It would be easy, he didn’t need to eat or sleep, so he didn’t need money. He could just do what he wanted. But this was home, wasn’t it?

No. No, it really wasn’t. A home was supposed to feel safe, right? It was supposed to be safe. If his was home, then he wouldn’t be ridiculed hated here. He would be welcomed and loved. But he didn’t have that. Instead, number 4 was more like a prison than anything. He got limited food, was given chores constantly, was most always under supervision that sneered at him, and was locked away when he wasn’t. His clothes were rag-like hand-me-downs, and were washed only once a month at most, and usually less often. He didn’t feel safe here, he felt threatened.

I should not need to consider running away in the first place.

And that was more than reason enough to run, for him.

Chapter Text

Harry/Mammon sat in his cupboard that night, and started on his benign plan on getting more information. Status menu, he thought, and just like before, another black-green box popped up.

Now that he could actually focus on it, he could see that it was divided into four sections. The first one, in the top left had his full name as a subheading. Harry J. Potter-Black . So now he knew his last name was either Potter or Black, he just didn’t know which. But, if he ever needed it, Harry/Mammon decided to use Black, because that sounded infinitely cooler than Potter. Underneath it was three things that read “race, job, and class”. Race was both self-explanatory, and yet not. It said, “Race: magus”. He had never heard of magus before. Class said “none” next to it. And “job” was both insulting and true. “Slave”.

The one next to that read “stats”, and had several short form words, including, “Mp, Sp, and Hp” as well as, “Con, Spd, Wis, and Str”. Each had a number next to it, or a fraction. Beside Mp, Sp, and Hp, there was some sort of equation that made his head spin. Underneath that one, was a box that was labeled “skills”. His “active skills” were [Cleaning], [Cooking], [Gardening], and [Sprint], each with what he assumed was a level next to it. His highest level skill was [Cleaning Lv.7]. His “passive skills” were [English Lv.4] and [Parallel Thought Lv.2], which was apparently new.

The final box read “afflictions”, and he somewhat expected “freakishness” to be recorded there. Instead, there were three other things. Something called a “blood curse” that had a wacky title; a “soul binding”, whatever that was, with two names underneath: a normal one, “Tom Riddle”, and a weird one, “Voldemort”. The final thing was something he should have expected. [Penalty]. It had said, “resume with a penalty,” even if he hadn’t really known what it meant at the time. What scared him though, was the name of the penalty.

{No Life King: Nosferatu}

Shocked, he reached forward and touched the title with his hand, only to have another box pop up.

He read over the text, his face growing pale. He reached out again, thinking that if he touched the this he was curious about, it would give him more context. He was right. He tapped on “Undead”.

Harry sat, face startlingly blank, and tried to absorb the information that he was given. He dragged the two popups out of the way of the first screen, and each other. The… status screen, he would call it, was telling him that he was some type of king, whose subjects were the undead. Why was a human, magus, whatever, leading the undead? He was an unwanted orphaned freak, why in the world would he be a king? Or was is metaphorical, meaning something else, like that he held a lot of power? But that didn’t make any sense either, he didn’t hold any power. And even if he did, what would that power pertain to? 

His eyes widened, and his mouth went dry, when he caught the meaning of his title. He, Harry, Mammon, whoever, was an undead. He quickly looked back at his status screen, to see that, now, next to “Race,” it said [Magus (Lich)]. Lich? What exactly was a lich? Was it bad? Did it-? Harry/Mammon took a deep breath, before letting it out. Focus . What is a lich?

Harry/Mammon dismissed the other two screens detailing the undead with a mere thought, and tapped [Lich] on his status screen.

Well that could’ve been more helpful… Oh well.

Harry/Mammon scrunched up his face in concentration. One of the previous popups said that the undead had no need to eat or sleep, so he was going to take advantage of that. No more starving because of his relatives. He looked back at his skills, and put together that actions he took could turn into skills that he could perform and advance in. His job might’ve been slave because he considered himself that, or because his relative thought of him like that. He had 8 Skill Coins, whatever those did.

He clicked [Skills], and a large menu with a long list of skills, with a number next to them. Oh, that’s what Skill Coins are for. He read through some of the descriptions. [Hide Presence] seemed useful in his situation, and it cost 6sc, which left him with four. He bought it, and saved the rest of his points for later.

{Skill, [Hide Presence Lv.1] learned!}

Harry/Mammon leaned back with a sigh. Now what?

Without much to do, Harry/Mammon started to practice the math that he’d been taught in class.

2*5 = 10

1*3 = 3

3*5 = 15

10*5 = 50

4*2 = 8

0*10 = 0

5*5 = 25

2*7 = 14

4*4 = 16

3*3 = 30

3*6 = 18

5*1 = 5

2*2 = 4

3*3 = 12

4*5 = 20

{Skill, [Arithmetic Lv.1] learned!}

The rest of the night went much the same.