Chapter 1: The Secret is Out, No More Pretending, I Am a Wizard, Son

July 15, 1991, early evening, the lawn at No. 6 Privet Drive.

“Waaahhh!”

An approximately eight-year-old blond boy was crying loudly, his small hand still clenched as if holding a lollipop—even though his palm was empty.

The culprit behind all this—Cohen Norton—was already walking home with his back turned to the child.

Cohen was a slender eleven-year-old boy, with meticulously groomed black hair, dressed in a white T-shirt and blue jeans, living at No. 5 Privet Drive.

In his hand was the fifty-pence rainbow lollipop he had just “generously” given to the neighbor’s kid.

“Desserts really do brighten the mood—if only they didn’t cause cavities.”

Cohen contentedly licked the lollipop in his hand.

The pain of cavities was a distant concern for a child who lost baby teeth more often than changing cups.

Having been given a second chance at life, he intended to fully enjoy the carefree joy of childhood—and in the process, complete his mission.

[Ding! Kindness +1, Evil +1]

[Note: Giving candy then snatching it back is unethical; your conscience will be troubled.]

An electronic synthesized voice sounded in Cohen’s ear. Of course, Cohen “selectively” only heard the first part—the system’s complaint...

Poor little system, it was internally breaking down in frustration, crying and fussing because Cohen exploited loopholes to earn double currency in the shop. So pitiful.

The system did not appear out of thin air, and neither did Cohen of Privet Drive.

More precisely, it was a car accident over a month ago that brought Cohen to this familiar yet strange world—an otherworldly truck driver just happened to drop by.

Privet Drive, the villa next door at No. 4 inhabited by the Dursley family, and a “Harry Potter” who rarely appeared outside—the setting was complete.

Cohen instantly realized he was in the famous world of Harry Potter.

As someone who had read the original series several times, Cohen knew well that his childhood and youth might not be so pleasant.

After all, Harry Potter was exactly his age, and Cohen truly possessed “magic” such as levitating objects, vanishing into thin air, and teleporting—he was inevitably linked to everything in the wizarding world.

He also had foster parents who adored him, both Muggles without any magical ability—at least, according to Cohen’s original memories, no trace of magic was found.

But the Harry Potter world was hardly friendly to Muggles, especially after the resurrection of the ultimate villain Voldemort.

To protect his parents, he had two choices: either quickly flee Europe or eliminate Voldemort in advance—

Me? Fight Voldemort? Seriously?

Then came an underperforming system called the “Redemption System.”

“Open panel,” Cohen silently commanded.

A broken, half-black, half-white virtual circular interface appeared before his eyes.

At the center was Cohen’s simple and straightforward attribute panel.

[Cohen Norton]
[Race: Dementor/Human/?/?/?]
[Soul Integrity: 11%]
[Special Abilities Unlocked: None]
[Soul Strength: 11]
[Current Kindness Points: 1250]

[Current Evil Points: 250]

When Cohen first took over this eleven-year-old body and saw the word “Dementor,” he was completely skeptical.

Apart from a similar mouth organ, as a normal-looking human, he had no connection to Dementors whatsoever!

But as he gradually explored his body, a terrifying truth emerged.

He really was a Dementor disguised in human skin. He could see the “souls” of people and had an uncontrollable hunger for them. Especially when close to others, Cohen would involuntarily want to suck a bit from afar.

This behavior was dangerous—his attempt to feed on the soul of his sleeping foster father, Edward Norton, nearly drained the man’s soul.

Though Cohen stopped in time, some essence was drawn out—perhaps a soul fragment, perhaps “joy.” It was sweet, yet never cloying.

This explained why Cohen was always carrying candy; eating sweets was almost like feeding on souls.

After taking a minute to accept his terrifying Dementor nature, Cohen began studying the “Redemption System.”

First, the system granted him a seemingly useless but actually vital ability to determine whether to flee or feed on a target’s soul upon encountering an enemy.

He could see the soul strength of anyone, like a virtual numerical tag floating above every creature’s head, always instantly visible when he wished.

Soul strength was the standard for Cohen to judge if he could consume a target’s soul. His foster father Edward’s soul strength was 10, so Cohen could feed on him briefly. His foster mother Rose, however, had a soul strength of 20, making her untouchable.

Cohen’s own soul strength was linked to his soul integrity, which was alarmingly low.

But at least soul integrity could be improved, and the method was in the system’s shop—or perhaps by feeding on souls.

When he fed on Edward’s soul, Cohen noticed fluctuations in soul integrity. Had he not stopped, Edward’s soul might have become data on Cohen’s panel.

Still, Cohen considered himself a humane being, not capable of evil acts like sucking out the soul of the hardworking old man cooking every day for the family.

The system had two shops: a “Kindness Shop” and an “Evil Shop.” Whenever Cohen did good or evil deeds, the system awarded him “Kindness Points” or “Evil Points” based on the event’s magnitude, which could be spent in the respective shops.

What the system hadn’t anticipated was Cohen’s habit of undoing his good deeds immediately, forcing the system to keep awarding him Evil Points, enabling him to earn double currency effortlessly.

The system had no solution, only subtle hints and reproaches during each report.

The items in the two shops differed greatly. The Kindness Shop sold bright, wholesome goods like manuals of positive magic, fantastic beasts, magical plants, and non-dark magical artifacts.

The Evil Shop’s items were much darker—numerous dark magic books, clearly forbidden magical materials, even “souls.”

This included not only “Soul Fragments” worth a thousand Evil Points that could enhance Cohen’s soul integrity but also living human souls.

[Tormented Human Soul]
[Artifact from another world, usable in various evil magic item productions, including but not limited to ‘Horcruxes’ and evil spirit puppets—
You can always hear the soul’s screams; perhaps the next one will be yours.]
[Price: 7000 Evil Points]

That price could buy seven thousand children’s lollipops—truly wicked.

Thus, Cohen bought nothing from the Evil Shop except “Soul Fragments” to raise his soul integrity—not because he lacked the currency.

However, the increase from soul fragments was discouraging.

When Cohen first arrived in this world, his soul integrity was 10, soul strength 10. After so much mischief, with a thousand Evil Points saved, integrity rose only 1%, and strength increased just to 11.

As for the special ability slot filled with question marks...

No clues, and the system offered no response, making Cohen doubt its completeness.

Fortunately, soul integrity seemed to have no impact on his normal life, so Cohen had no urgent need to commit evil deeds to improve it.

This meant he could leisurely enjoy his last carefree days before the Hogwarts acceptance letter arrived.

But now, as Cohen stepped into his living room, unwelcome news began to surface.

A grey little owl was frantically fluttering around the ceiling—only one possibility for such a thing appearing at home: a letter from Hogwarts.

Today was Cohen’s eleventh birthday, indeed the time he should receive his acceptance letter. However, he had waited all morning with no sign of it; otherwise, his “good deed” plan wouldn’t have started in the afternoon.

A middle-aged man with messy light blond hair rushed toward Cohen with a face full of joy, waving a parchment-like document with curled edges.

“Oh, Cohen! My precious son, you’re going to Hogwarts!”

Edward, Cohen’s foster father in his forties with no achievements, had been perceived by Cohen over these months as a homebody househusband. Though his cooking wasn’t terrible, there was no sign of magic in his life.

It made no sense—why would he be so excited about Cohen attending Hogwarts, a “niche school” unknown in the Muggle world?

Not long ago, Edward and Rose were preparing Cohen’s new uniform for Smelting Middle School.

According to Edward, that school was the best private school in Southeast England, especially praising its food—which would never disappoint Cohen—though Cohen repeatedly stressed he preferred sweets to hearty meals, and food was trivial compared to the educational environment.

There was only one possibility: Edward was a wizard who had long concealed his identity from the family.

Blimey, are wizards really such creatures that Dementors can so easily suck their souls while they sleep with no reaction?!

Wait, no...

Is the soul strength of an adult male wizard really this low?

Only 10 points?

Muggle soul strength ranges from 5 to 10 points! (Previously, Cohen thought Rose’s 20 points made her a superhuman among Muggles.)

This is just like Cohen’s own soul strength as a damaged half-Dementor! He’s already at 11!

Or perhaps normal wizards are like his foster mother Rose? 20 points?

Cohen had never seen other wizards; with only his parents showing such a stark difference in soul strength, he had no way to determine what normal wizard strength was.

“All right, Edward, your voice is about to carry into the Dursleys’ living room next door. Don’t forget Dumbledore’s warning.”

A woman in a violet one-piece dress descended the stairs, sternly reprimanding Edward.

This brown-haired woman was Cohen’s foster mother, Rose.

Though the same age as Edward, she looked remarkably young, with pale blue eyes as beautiful as lake spirits—though when scolding Edward, she resembled a hungry tiger.

Yet with Cohen, she was a different person.

“Cohen, Mom is very happy you’re going to Hogwarts. Your dad will explain everything later. I have to attend a journalism seminar and might not be there to sing at your birthday party.”

Rose bent down, smiled, and kissed Cohen’s forehead, her expression changing faster than a TV channel flipping from BBC to ITV.

“But I will bring you a birthday present. Love you.”

Before leaving, Rose gave Edward a final stern warning: “Don’t scare Cohen.”

After the tigress left, an excited Edward lifted Cohen onto the sofa.

“Now that the letter has arrived, it’s time to tell you some truths.”

“Mm-hmm, if there’s anything about the wizarding world you don’t understand, you can ask me.”

Cohen wanted to reply that way, but when he thought about how to explain that an eleven-year-old boy with no magical background already knew about the magical world... he decided to stay silent.

“Mm-hmm.” Cohen obediently sat on the sofa and listened.

“Dad’s coming clean: I’m a wizard, the magical kind.”

I’m coming clean too: I’m a Dementor, the soul-sucking kind.