"Ah—ah—ah!"Harry Potter tried to speak, but the pain overwhelmed him. His face twisted in agony as he howled, unable to form words.
Roger, watching calmly, could more or less guess what he was trying to say:"It's like this at first… it'll get better soon... Suffering refines the soul—something about heaven assigning great tasks only to those who endure hardship…"
While murmuring some half-hearted comfort, Roger flicked his wand. A soft binding spell immobilized Harry to prevent any flailing, then Roger began the magical transformation process.
His pursuit of immortality through Transfiguration faced two core challenges.First, scale—his spellcasting was limited by his perception. The most precise manipulation he could achieve was at the cellular level, constrained by the resolution of his microscope.Second, interface—even if he could change the body, he needed a medium within it that could be directly linked to his will.
The solution, at least theoretically, was elegant.
He didn't yet know how to alter the entire body's substance for transformation—but there was one part of the body already controlled by the will: neurons.Neurons formed the bridge between thought and movement. And although humans lacked conscious control over many internal systems—organ rhythms, hormone secretion, metabolic states—those systems were governed by the nervous system.
What if he could change the nervous system itself?What if he could upgrade it?
Would expanding the permissions of human consciousness unlock control over those hidden systems?And if control became precise enough… could it finally overcome the perception barrier?
Roger didn't know.But the idea was promising. And in research, forward motion was better than standing still. Even accidental discoveries had value—sometimes while chasing a cure for heart disease, you invented a pacemaker.
After a period of relentless trial and error, Roger had developed a prototype: Magical Neuron Reconstruction Technology.Or in full:"A transformation-based magical method to proliferate, optimize, and restructure the operational logic of the human nervous system."
It was still a semi-finished product.Complex. Painful. Risky.But viable enough for early human testing.
And Harry… was his very first subject.
After several long minutes of agonized screaming, Harry's pain began to subside. His throat was raw, his body still flushed with heat and tingling—but compared to earlier, it felt like bliss.
Roger waited until Harry's eyes regained focus before he spoke again.
"Relax. This was just a low-level trial version," Roger said. "I didn't touch your glands or organs—only did minor optimization to the neurons in your limbs and muscle control."
He demonstrated by raising his hands. "Now, copy me."
Harry followed instinctively.
"One, two, three, four, five." Roger raised fingers one at a time.
"Five, three, one, four, two." A more complex pattern.
Harry mirrored it perfectly.
"Good. Now, let's speed things up."
In a blur, Roger's fingers flicked through increasingly random combinations—faster than a concert pianist, faster than Uchiha Itachi weaving hand signs.
Harry matched him movement for movement.
"No errors," Roger nodded, satisfied. "Now for the limbs."
What followed was nothing short of miraculous.
Backflips. Aerial triple kicks. Single-arm handstands. Two-finger balance stands.They sprinted along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, climbing, vaulting, flipping, twisting—Harry keeping pace with ease, as if his body had always known how.
By the time they returned to solid ground, sweat on his brow and breath catching in his throat, Harry looked down at his hands.
Wide-eyed. Stunned.
"…That was me?" he whispered.
Anyone who's ever done delicate work with their hands or trained in physical coordination knows how impossibly rare that level of control is.The precision, the fluidity—it was beyond natural. Beyond normal.
If Harry were to take up craftsmanship now, he'd be on par with an eighth-grade industrial technician from day one.
A living, breathing human machine tool.
And this was just the beginning.
If Harry ever took up a small-ball sport, he'd master it in a glance. Reflexes, timing, coordination—every movement would be executed with surgical precision.As long as his stamina held, no opponent would stand a chance.
In a martial arts world, Roger's spell wouldn't just make him stronger.It would have turned Harry into a prodigy.
"How do you feel?" Roger asked, his smile as kind and composed as ever."Not bad, right? You should find magic much easier from now on."
Harry blinked, still processing what had just happened. "Use magic?"
"Yes. Go ahead, give it a try," Roger said casually.
Strangely, each word came in a different voice—the first soft and feminine, the second deep and gravelly like an old man's, and the third warm and robust like an uncle telling a story by the fire.
Harry stared, baffled.
Most wizards need to concentrate when casting spells. Wand movement must be exact, incantations crystal clear. One slip of the tongue or twitch of the wrist, and at best, the spell fails. At worst? It explodes in your face—or worse.
But Harry now had a nervous system designed not just for physical mastery but for precision.Every flick of the wand, every syllable of a spell—his muscles, including those controlling his vocal cords, could now perform with flawless accuracy. If he entered a voice mimicry contest, he'd sweep the competition. His control was that exact.
Galleons? Butterbeer? A round of wizard chess as thanks?Roger scoffed at the thought. That kind of reward was too shallow, too impersonal. This was a gift worthy of a seer's gratitude—an upgrade to Harry's very essence.
As they left the Forbidden Forest and emerged back into the main grounds of Hogwarts, the sun dipping toward the horizon, Roger spoke again, patting Harry's shoulder—still a bit scrawny, but now carrying more power than it ever had before.
"Harry, I'll be heading back to the lab. More experiments to run. But if you ever need help—don't hesitate to come find me."
He meant it. Roger wasn't the kind of person to use someone and walk away.A bond had been formed, and in his eyes, relationships—like magic—required upkeep, refinement, and long-term vision.
They chatted for a few minutes more before Roger turned and walked away, coat swaying, already lost in thought.
"Neurons… self-awareness… thought speed… mental power…"New sparks had ignited in his mind during the experiment with Harry.He didn't know yet if the ideas would work—but they were worth chasing.
And for someone like Roger, chasing the unknown was the only path that mattered.
... patreon Seasay