The Wheelchair Battle God Is Speedrunning Hogwarts
Author: Ming Xi
Tags: Harry Potter Campus Magic Harem
Introduction:
Tangerines
Transmigrating as the posthumous daughter of the Black family, she is blessed with a debuff right at the start.
Looking at her exclusive wheelchair, bitter medicine sliding down her throat to make her heart ache, Vera angrily slams the potion bottle down.
So much for the belief that heart is your magic! How come it can't even cure lower-limb paralysis!
Good news: she knows Ancient Magic.
Bad news: the Savior is a girl, and a very cute one at that.
Wait, this is actually fantastic news.
Planning at first to just lay low and develop, Vera looks at Miss Potter's pitiful green eyes and directly draws her wand to start battle-fun!
Dark Lord invasion? Just driving her own school straight into him should do the trick, right.
Ancient ruins underground going berserk? Good thing she lacks experience points, her demand is high enough, no matter how many come it'll be fine.
Hold on... that is not the kind of demand she means!
Looking at Miss Savior and Miss Know-It-All cornering her against the wall, Vera cannot help but emit a plaintive cry: "This is definitely not the battle-fun I wanted!"
Volume I First Year
Chapter 1 The Posthumous Daughter of the Black Family
Just as the sunlight sank into the night, Vela Black snapped awake from a dull ache.
Cold sweat soaked the silk pillowcase, and only when she struggled to open her eyes and took in the old, ornate decorations overhead did she realize where she currently was.
Though she had transmigrated to this world for three days already, she would still occasionally forget her new identity—Vela Black, reportedly... the posthumous daughter of Regulus Black.
Barely propping herself up from the bed, she gave a few low coughs, a sickly flush blooming across her delicate features.
Vela tried hard to brace herself against the edge of the bed; the familiar dull ache in her spine felt like countless fine needles wandering along her marrow, and the sensation of her seemingly non-existent lower limbs only gave her a feeling of illusory, stinging pain.
This was the sequela of the car crash, a torture that had never stopped since she transmigrated into this body.
She bit her lower lip, diligently groping around until she reached the wheelchair by the bed, her slender fingers trembling on the leather armrests of the wheelchair.
Vela took a deep breath, using all her strength to shift herself into the wheelchair, and only then managed to catch a momentary breath.
She adjusted her breathing, pushed the wheelchair to the window, and reached out to pull open a corner of the curtain. Deep night poured in instantly, illuminating her pale face.
Outside the window was the desolate garden of the Black family. Beside a weed-choked fountain, a nightingale was pecking at berries.
"Miss, did you have another nightmare?" The voice of Kreacher the house-elf sounded outside the door, his hoarse, low voice tinged with cautious reverence. "At this hour, it happens to be time for your medicine."
Without Kreacher's reminder, the bitter scent of the potion had already drifted in through the gap in the door, making her stomach contract like a conditioned reflex.
Vela's fingers paused, the deep green velvet fabric slipping from between her fingers to cover most of the outside world again, leaving only a sliver of the moonlight's cold silver rim to outline the contours of her frail side profile.
"Come in, Kreacher." The sticky voice from just waking made her voice sound hoarser than usual.
The wooden door gave a slight creak, and the aged house-elf walked in with a hunched back, holding a silver tray. In the crystal bottle upon it, a emerald-green medicinal liquid was bubbling strangely.
"There was a letter this afternoon, but I haven't had the chance to give it to Miss yet."
Kreacher placed the potion bottle on the bedside table, his voice sounding slightly higher-pitched than usual. He lit the candle on the table, pulled out a letter sealed with wax, and respectfully handed it over.
It was a yellowish letter, the text on the envelope written in emerald-green ink: 12 Grimmauld Place, Second Floor Room on the Left, Addressed to Miss Vela Black.
Vela narrowed her eyes, her gaze shifting from the envelope to Kreacher's turbid eyes, which flickered with tearful light.
Silently exhaling a breath, she leaned forward slightly and took the envelope. As her sleeve slipped down, however, it revealed the dense potion-burn marks crisscrossing her wrist—a memento left by her previous failed treatments.
Her fingertips gently stroked the texture of the Hogwarts crest. Vela tore it open and scanned it ten lines at a time; sure enough, it was identical to the Hogwarts acceptance letter she had seen in her past life.
She put the letter down, noticing Kreacher's ears twitching, a complex emotion she could not read flashing in those tennis-ball-sized eyes.
"Such a summer, too," Kreacher's low, hoarse voice choked up slightly, his knobby fingers twisting the old tea towel on his body. "When Master Regulus received his letter back then, it was this season as well..."
He rambled on, then suddenly realizing something, muttered, "Kreacher speaks out of turn..."
"It's fine." Vela softly interrupted him, placing the unfolded letter on the table, then picked up the potion bottle, looked at the strange green liquid inside, and tilted her head back to drink it down.
The moment the potion slid into her throat, Vela's spine stiffened abruptly, as if thousands of fire ants were crawling along her esophagus toward her whole body, nesting in the gaps between her bones.
Her fingernails dug deeply into the armrests, causing the wheelchair's leather to emit a faint, unbearable creak.
"Miss!" Kreacher let out a cry of alarm, watching her pretty, pale face gradually twist, and subconsciously wanted to step forward.
"Get out!" Vela squeezed the command out from between her teeth, cold sweat sliding down her temples and soaking the stray hairs beside her cheeks.
No one could help her; she could only grip the wheelchair armrests for dear life, relying sheerly on willpower to fight off that burning pain.
The house-elf hesitated for a second, then vanished with a pop.
The burning sensation brought by the potion gradually transformed into a strange numbness, and Vela felt her consciousness begin to float, as if being pulled away from her body.
She saw her distorted, unrecognizable face reflected in the mirror.
She saw that rainy night that always lingered in her dreams, the blinding headlights, her Muggle adoptive mother screaming as she pushed her out of the car, and then... and then a bloody blur...
That was the memory left to her by the original Vera, and it was also the nightmare she experienced every night since crossing over into this world.
Vera bit down hard on her lower lip, refusing to let go even after tasting the tang of iron.
She had to take complete control of this body and survive properly in this world... she could not pass out, absolutely not.
Just as her consciousness was about to be swallowed by the excruciating pain, the burning sensation of the potion suddenly vanished.
Vera snapped her eyes open and found herself suspended in a pitch-black void.
The wheelchair, the room, and even the pain had all disappeared; beneath her feet was a massive magic circle woven from silver light.
At the core of the magic circle, a diamond-shaped crystal slowly rose, upon which a line of text emerged:
[In the name of Ancient Magic, oh heir of the bloodline, you have passed the trial and obtained the qualification for inheritance.]
Ancient Magic?
Vera frowned, and before she could react, those words immediately turned into streams of light and drilled into her body.
In an instant, she seemed to see ancient wizards casting spells beneath the starlit sky, saw boulders symbolizing contracts buried into the foundations of Hogwarts, and saw countless amounts of magic dispersing like stardust and landing everywhere beneath her feet...
Then, the excruciating pain struck once more, but this time it was a different kind of pain—
It was as if someone were pouring molten metal into her veins, only to flush her bone marrow with ice water the next second.
In a trance, Vera seemed to see spiderweb-like golden patterns emerging beneath her skin, spreading from the scar on her wrist until they gradually covered her entire body.
Before she could see it clearly, her consciousness took a downward plunge, as if she were being forcibly dragged back to reality by an invisible force.
She slumped against the armrest of her wheelchair, panting heavily from the depths of her chest as the crystal potion vial rolled onto the carpet with a dull thud.
Lifting her hand with a tremor, Vera narrowed her eyes slightly and, by the candlelight, saw that the potion burn on her wrist was healing at a visible rate.
The originally gruesome burn mark vanished without a trace, replaced by a layer of pale golden patterns—they slowly flowed beneath her veins like living creatures before gradually fading away.
"...Ancient Magic?"
She muttered in a daze, unable to help falling into deep thought.
Author's note: New author, new book, thanks for following me, meow.
Chapter 2 Ancient Magic
Ancient Magic, a term that was never mentioned in the original worldbuilding of Harry Potter yet appeared in the game, was something Vera already had a rough understanding of before her transmigrations.
Unlike conventional magic, Ancient Magic was an extremely rare power, even more chaotic and formidable than the magic mastered by modern wizards.
Take the protagonist of Hogwarts Legacy, for instance: in the later stages, they simply killed people as casually as eating and drinking; as long as their mana bar was sufficient, they could easily take out dozens of people on their way to class.
It was to the extent that Grindelwald would weep if he came, and Voldemort would suffer a nervous breakdown upon seeing it.
Yet the visions she had just witnessed and this abrupt term that had forced its way into her mind...
No, those were definitely not illusions.
Vera stared blankly at her completely restored wrist, her fingertips gently touching that patch of skin once covered in scars; the texture was smooth and cool, as if it had never been burned by a potion at all.
The previously pale golden patterns had completely faded, but that strange sense of power still flowed deep within her veins.
She slowly clenched her fists, clearly feeling an unprecedented power surging within her body.
Slowly raising her head, her gaze fell upon the dressing mirror in the corner of the room—the young girl in the mirror was pale and thin, with silver-gray slightly wavy hair plastered messily against her sweat-dampened temples.
And those black eyes, which originally belonged to the Black family, were currently shimmering with an extremely faint layer of golden halo, like some sort of ancient magic burning deep within her pupils.
Vera gazed at her mutated pupils in the mirror, her fingertips unconsciously brushing against the corner of her eye as that trace of golden halo vanished in a flash like an illusion, yet leaving a burning afterimage branded upon her retina.
The room was dead silent, and at that very moment, a sharp pain suddenly radiated from her wrist.
Vera sharply knitted her brows as she saw the golden patterns that had just faded on her wrist emerge once again; this time, they were no longer simple pathways, but gradually condensed into a line of text—
[Magic Circuit has been activated]
The text flickered for a fraction of a second, then dissolved into fine points of light and dissipated into the air.
Vera's breathing stalled slightly, and she suddenly realized—the flow of magic within her body had become clearer than ever before.
She could "see" them.
Those stores of magic within her body, which had previously been as elusive and hazy as mist, were currently flowing slowly along her veins, bones, and nerves like lit-up rivers of stars, eventually converging near her heart to form a miniature Magic Circuit.
And at the center of this circuit, right at her heart, a tiny crystal was already suspended—the very same one she had seen amidst that magic circle just moments ago.
A string of text she could not understand poured out like water; she quietly pressed her lips together, and after a moment, spoke in a low, hoarse voice: "Isn't this an inheritance? Then explain all of this in a format I can understand."
The crystal seemed to understand her words, its surface rippling with wave-like patterns as those obscure texts gradually reorganized themselves into English she could comprehend:
[Inheritor, welcome to the world of Ancient Magic.]
[You have passed the trial and obtained the qualification for inheritance.]
[Current Magic Circuit Level: Awakening · Initial Stage]
[Magic Reserve: 17/30]
[Mana Regeneration Rate: 6.5/hour]
The crystal emitted a faint resonance inside her, and a line of new text surfaced on her retina.
Vela's fingers tightened unconsciously, and the wheelchair's armrest gave a slight squeak.
This was practically like... some kind of game interface, she narrowed her eyes, trying to summon in her mind: "Display full status."
The crystal trembled slightly, and more text emerged:
[Name: Vela Black]
[Age: 11]
[Attributes: Strength (3), Agility (1), Magic (3), Intelligence (7), Charisma (8), Luck (2)]
[Physical Condition: Lower Limb Paralysis (Repairable)]
[Ancient Magic Study Status: Unstudied]
[Talents: Shadow Affinity (Black Bloodline Talent), Ancient Magic Affinity]
[Magic Circuit Bonuses: Basic Spell Power Bonus 20%, Mana Regeneration Rate Bonus 30%, Spell Study Speed Bonus 50%]
[Magic Circuit Skill 1: Circuit Vision (Can see through magic residue on the surface of magical objects, such as Apparition traces, and identify enchanted items)]
[Magic Circuit Skill 2: Basic Healing (Passive)]
Vela's fingertips trembled slightly, her gaze locked firmly onto the line concerning her physical condition.
Her throat tightened, and she squeezed the words out almost from between her teeth: "My legs... can still be repaired? What needs to be done to repair them?"
Ripples spread across the crystal's surface: [Ancient Magic: Life Reshaping (Requires Magic Circuit level to reach 'Mastery Advanced', mana reserve above 500)]
A burst of footsteps came from outside the door, and Vela snapped back to her senses, only then discovering that her fingernails had already embedded deeply into her palms.
She slowly relaxed her hand, staring at the crescent-shaped blood marks on her palm—the wound was healing at a speed visible to the naked eye, a very faint golden light flashing beneath her skin.
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