Harry Potter: Eternity Wizard

In Roger's slightly faded memories due to the passage of time, when the "Savior of the British Wizarding World," the one who "defeated" the Dark Lord—Harry Potter—entered the Leaky Cauldron, he received the same kind of attention.

However, the difference between himself and Harry Potter was quite significant.

For Harry Potter, after a brief moment of silence, the place erupted into chaos. People crowded around him, eager to meet the hero, desperate for a handshake or a photo to remember the moment forever.

The atmosphere had been one of excitement, full of life and energy.

For Roger, after a brief silence, there was only deathly stillness.

The less-informed wizards, upon seeing Professor McGonagall, the Head of Gryffindor House, reacted like mice spotting a cat.

The British wizarding world was small—almost all wizards had graduated from Hogwarts. And these troublemakers, who spent their school days slacking off and their adult lives drinking in pubs during work hours, instinctively lowered their heads in front of Professor McGonagall.

On the other hand, those well-connected wizards, who had ties with the upper circles of the wizarding society, stiffened at the sight of Roger as if they were looking at another Dark Lord.

Their bodies froze.

They stood rooted in place, barely daring to move.

With the trial over, more details about Roger were no longer classified and became widely known.

Roger had personally killed over ninety people, and the number of those who died indirectly because of him was orders of magnitude higher.

If an outsider who understood this history were to observe Roger's actions, they would realize that the entire course of the war had shifted due to his presence—just as the Gulf War had deviated from its original trajectory in another world.

The battlefield footage that had been released made many young wizards—who had never witnessed the horrors of modern Muggle warfare—lose their appetites for meat for quite some time.

Neither Professor McGonagall nor Roger paid any attention to the awkward atmosphere.

They walked straight through the silent crowd and headed to the back of the Leaky Cauldron.

With a light tap of the wand against the brick wall in the alley, the gateway to the wizarding world opened before Roger.

Bustling, lively, filled with people in all kinds of eccentric outfits—shouts of bargaining filled the air, and flashes of magical light flickered before Roger's eyes.

This was the commercial hub of the British wizarding world, but rather than an upscale shopping district, it resembled an open-air market.

Roger's first impression of this place was…

"Cognitive distortion—what a terrifying kind of magic."

Diagon Alley was located in London, yet none of the millions of residents ever noticed the massive blank spot on their city maps.

Thinking about it too deeply sent chills down his spine.

If he had known this spell during the war, he wouldn't have needed to constantly move around for guerrilla tactics—he could have just hidden in one place and been fine.

The difficulty of survival would have instantly dropped from nightmare mode to easy mode.

Roger was beginning to understand why, in his past life's memories, wizards looked down on Muggles so much.

Anyone, when faced with a group of people whose minds they could manipulate at will, would inevitably lose any sense of reverence for them.

Even if that group had the power to harm—or even kill—them.

Of course, Roger did not think this way. Having truly experienced the horrors of death and war, he would never underestimate any being.

Stepping into Diagon Alley, the two continued forward.

Their first stop was the wizarding bank—Gringotts.

Hogwarts was a seven-year boarding school, and a magic school at that.

Everything—from tuition fees to required books and equipment, even down to the school uniforms—were magical items that could only be purchased with wizarding currency.

No U.S. dollars, euros, or British pounds were accepted here—only Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts.

However, there were Muggle-born wizards like Roger, who had no prior connection to the wizarding world and no money.

For them, Hogwarts provided some assistance—they could exchange a limited amount of Muggle money for wizarding currency at Gringotts with their admission letter.

For those who were so poor that they didn't even have Muggle money, special no-interest student loans were available.

This funding came from the Ministry of Magic's education budget.

Roger didn't have much money, but he wasn't broke enough to need a student loan.

At Gringotts, guided by a short goblin, Roger exchanged some British pounds for Galleons.

It was just enough to cover all his school supplies and living expenses.

. . .

"What are you looking for?"

In Flourish and Blotts, after purchasing all his first-year textbooks, Roger continued browsing through the shelves. Professor McGonagall, puzzled, asked him.

Their shopping trip had gone smoothly—cauldrons, uniforms, broomsticks, magical pets, and a wand were all taken care of. This was the final stop.

For his magical pet, Roger hadn't chosen a cat, dog, toad, or raven. Instead, he went with the more popular choice—an owl.

First, because owls could help him stay in contact with the outside world while at Hogwarts, where communication wasn't always convenient.

Second, because other pets required personal care, whereas owls could live in the school's owlery in the West Tower, taken care of by the staff.

Over the years, this would save him a lot of time.

As for his wand, Roger—just like Harry Potter—visited Ollivanders, the famous wand shop that had been crafting wands since 382 B.C., around the time of the Zhou Dynasty in China.

Mr. Ollivander had Roger test many wands.

Applewood for kind idealists, yew for battle-hardened wizards, maple for adventurers, blackthorn for the intuitive and honest, hazel for those who master emotions, and the legendary elder wand, associated with power and misfortune, which had remained unsold for years.

Roger was compatible with all six, but none felt quite right.

The bond between a wizard and their wand greatly affected spellcasting—wands weren't just tools you could pick up and use.

Then, Ollivander brought out a seventh wand.

The moment Roger held it, an entirely different sensation spread through his body—pure comfort.

Ten inches, fir wood, with a unicorn tail hair core for stable spellcasting.

Fir wood wands weren't particularly rare, but their owners tended to be highly accomplished masters in their fields.

They suited those who were exceptionally lucky, immensely patient, strong-willed, and had absolute clarity in their thoughts and goals.

Ollivander rarely saw a first-year student match a fir wand so perfectly.

But he didn't dwell on it too much. As one of Europe's three great wand makers, with a lineage dating back over two thousand years to ancient Greece, he had seen far too many strange things.

Nothing surprised him anymore.

With his wand secured, Roger arrived at Flourish and Blotts to get his textbooks. But as he skimmed through them, he frowned slightly before shifting his gaze to the shelves.

"I want to buy some other books," Roger said, his eyes filled with curiosity.

Professor McGonagall stopped him. "Roger, I know you love magic, but recklessly studying spells beyond your ability is dangerous."

"Your first-year textbooks, such as The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 and A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, were carefully chosen. They're easy to grasp and won't cause serious consequences if you fail a spell. They're perfect for you—you don't need anything else."

Roger glanced at the stern Professor McGonagall and realized she had misunderstood.

It wasn't surprising—after all, as a Hogwarts professor, she was used to dealing with reckless, destructive students.

"No, I'm not looking for more powerful spells."

"I'm looking for something more fundamental."

Roger spoke seriously. "Books that provide a comprehensive and detailed explanation of what magic truly is and how ancient spells evolved into the modern magical system."

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