HP: The Wizard Slayer

"It's been 11 fucking years..." Toji sighed to himself recalling the hectic events that has followed ever since his reincarnation.

Before he reincarnated, he wasn't anything special just a normal ordinary kid who fell to his death earlier than expected. But waking up again in the body of a child was something he had never expected to happen to someone ordinary like himself.

The name Toji Fushigoro rang like a warning bell in his head, making him uneasy about the life he had stepped into. But that unease turned into disbelief when he pieced it all together—the wand-waving, the flickering lights, and those oh-so-familiar spells. This wasn't just any reincarnation; he'd landed smack in the world of Harry Potter.

After all, it wasn't like he wasn't born in the "Zenin clan"

And honestly? At first, it felt like he'd hit the jackpot.

"Magic, man!" he'd muttered to himself with excitement back then. "I can actually do magic!" The thought of living in a world where he could cast spells and wave a wand had been exhilarating. All those years spent reading fantasy novels and watching movies felt like preparation for this.

Then came the next surprise: he wasn't some random nobody. No, he was born as Toji Fushigoro, heir to the Fushigoro clan—basically the most influential magical family in all of Asia.

Forget rags-to-riches; this was like waking up at the top of the food chain. He'd figured it was his shot at living a cushy, drama-free life. No Voldemort, no Hogwarts, no Harry Potter shenanigans, just a quiet and prosperous existence in Japan.

And with his previous life's knowledge, it was like playing a game in easy mode. He'd breezed through his early years, absorbing magic like a sponge. By the age of seven, he had memorized spells and even dabbled in some advanced magical theories, leaving everyone in the clan in awe.

But then… things started to slip away.

His mother had died shortly after giving birth to him, leaving him in the care of his father—a distant, cold man whose presence could barely be called parenting.

His interactions with his father were so sparse that Toji could count the number of meaningful conversations they had on one hand. Then, just when he thought his father couldn't be more of a non-entity in his life, he was murdered.

The prime suspect? His older brother.

He had been previously suspected of mixing with some dark wizards and rumors of him using black magic were something everyone knew but Toji had never expected him to push things that far.

Toji's relationship with his brother had always been rocky. As a child, his brother blamed Toji for their mother's death, and that resentment festered into something darker as they grew. While Toji's magical talent had earned him the clan's praise, it only deepened the rift between them.

Toji spent most of his time buried in books, and his brother was often absent attending his school at Mahoutokoro, running with a crowd of dark wizards so it wasn't like they had interacted often but the sense of betrayal still made him sick to his stomach.

Toji still remembered the last time he saw his brother—his cold smile as he left for Mahoutokoro, his parting words laced with venom. 'Try not to disappoint the family too much,' he'd said, but Toji had seen the jealousy simmering beneath the surface.

And now, with his father's death, all eyes were on Toji. The clan looked to him as their heir, a symbol of stability amidst the chaos.

But things started to take a turn.

When other children his age began to exhibit signs of magic—accidental outbursts, spells gone haywire—Toji's development took a strange detour.

While he showed no outward magical surges, his physical capabilities were evolving at an alarming rate. He wasn't just strong for his age; he was strong, period.

The clan elders tried their best to awaken his latent magic, using techniques that had been passed down for centuries. But no matter what they did, his magical potential remained dormant.

Instead, his body became... something else. His reflexes were sharper than a hawk's, his endurance unmatched, and his strength seemed almost unnatural.

At first, it was easy to dismiss. A child with an active lifestyle might show signs of athleticism. But soon he himself couldn't come up with any excuse whatsoever.

Toji had hoped, desperately even, that his fears were unfounded. But as the years passed, those hopes dwindled. His physical abilities weren't just impressive—they were unnatural. Still, he wasn't ready to face the truth just yet. Instead, he threw himself into training, determined to make the most of what he had.

Swordsmanship with a katana was a cherished tradition within the Fushigoro clan. Every heir was expected to train in the art, not just as a skill but as a rite of passage. Toji had eagerly taken up the blade, partly out of obligation, partly to test himself. What started as mere curiosity quickly evolved into something else. He wasn't just good—he was exceptional.

By the end of his first year of training, he had surpassed most of the children his age. Within three years, even seasoned adults in the clan struggled to match him. His movements were precise, his strikes relentless, and his endurance unmatched.

Whether it was katana, spear, or bow, Toji mastered them with an ease that unsettled even the most skilled instructors. His body, honed and efficient, responded to every challenge like it had been built for this.

But as much as his accomplishments brought pride, they also fueled his unease. Each victory in training, each new skill mastered, was another piece of evidence supporting the fear that had been gnawing at him. Something wasn't right.

The day of his Awakening Ceremony arrived, a grand event meant to showcase the raw magical potential of the Fushigoro heir. The clan elders, dignitaries, and esteemed guests gathered in the ceremonial hall, their expectations soaring.

Toji stood at the center, clad in traditional robes, his expression betraying none of the turmoil within. This was it—the moment that would define his place in the magical world.

He followed the rituals meticulously, his hands steady as he moved through the prescribed incantations. The room buzzed with anticipation. And then… nothing.

Not a spark. Not a flicker of magic.

The murmurs began almost immediately. Whispers of "squib" floated through the air, growing louder with each passing second. Toji stood frozen, his fists clenched at his sides. He had known this was coming, but it didn't make the sting any less sharp.

The elders tried to save face, murmuring about latent potential and delayed awakenings. But Toji knew better. He could feel it deep within himself, an immutable truth that he'd tried to ignore for years. This wasn't a case of underdeveloped magic. This was something entirely different.

Heavenly Restriction.

The term echoed in his mind like a cruel joke. He'd read about it in some fan article and described it as a rare phenomenon where the absence of jujutsu was compensated with extraordinary physical capabilities but this was magic.

Who the fuck could see that coming??

Instead of being the brilliant magical heir the clan had hoped for, he had turned out to be nothing but a squib.

But only he knew that he was something entirely outside their expectation. He wasn't a wizard, but he wasn't a mere squib either. He was something else entirely. A being that didn't fit into the neat categories of the magical world.

As he looked out at the crowd, he saw the disappointment in their eyes, the whispers of judgment and ridicule. But buried beneath the shame and frustration was a spark of determination.

After the reveal of his lack of magic, all hell broke loose. The elders who had once regarded him with such pride turned on him, casting out an 11-year-old boy from the very family that was supposed to nurture him although some seemed hesitant against the majority they couldn't stand a chance. He was lucky enough to even get a hut outside the clan headquarter, if it was anyone else they'd be thrown out to the muggle world or worse killed for being a disappointment to the family.

And now he was here, kicked out of the very house he grew up in, forced to live inside that tattered hut, and now things had even got messier.

The internal politics within the clan although mostly harmonious, heavily relied on blood and traditions. He had suspected the old geezers to do something drastic but to bring back his brother wasn't something he could ever expect.

"I don't know what shit my brother fed the elders or if the elders have really gone bat shit crazy trying to crown that dark wizard asshole as the heir" 

Toji lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind spinning with the realization that if he stayed in the clan, he was as good as dead.

His brother's return meant one thing: trouble. His older brother was known for his dark dealings and ruthless ways, and from the rumors he had heard after he was banished from the clan, he was definitely a dark wizard now even if he was innocent back then.

"It's not like they will listen to me that my brother might try to kill me, hell they might already be on his side..." Toji rolled his eyes, "To think I'll be forced out of my own house and my plan of being a lazy millionaire prick would crumble before me like that."

Toji had no intention of being a pawn in whatever game he had planned. He knew the fact that it wasn't going to be easy leaving just because he wanted to but he could always sneak out.

"Fuck me..." With a sigh, he rolled out of bed and grabbed his bag. Inside was his only means of survival—some galleons, magical artifacts, and a few treasures he'd collected over the years. It wasn't much, but it would be enough to get him out of here.

Staying wasn't an option. Not with his brother's reputation hanging over his head.

"If only I was a bit older..."Toji clicked his tongue wondering where he might go, it wasn't like he could run away and get a job, or rent a flat somewhere but staying wasn't a valid choice either. 

"Whatever happens... happens." Toji sighed in resignation, 

"Selling these things would give me enough to live comfortably for a year or two. Maybe more if I stop blowing money on those overpriced butterbeers. Or should I just rob Potter? He wouldn't miss a few galleons—not with that vault of his. Dammit, stop thinking like a lunatic, Toji!" Toji squatted down with his hands covering his face, "Ah! Dammit!! Whatever I'll fucking leave tomorrow morning!"

Toji threw his pouch back into the bag and slid onto his mattress.