Book 1: Harry Potter and the Saiyan's Secret

The next morning dawned bright and crisp, but Harry's mind was clouded with thoughts of the previous day. The strange flickers of energy he'd felt in class, the growing tension with Snape, and the lingering sense of being watched—it was all becoming too much.

He resolved to shake it off and focus on his lessons, but deep down, Harry knew that something bigger was stirring. He just didn't know what.

---

Whispers in the Library

By mid-morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves in the library. Hermione, as always, was engrossed in her books, flipping through pages on magical theory with an intensity that made Ron groan.

"Do you ever stop?" Ron muttered, slouching in his chair. "It's Saturday, Hermione. Aren't we supposed to relax?"

"We could relax if you'd finished your essay on magical herbs," she shot back without looking up.

Harry smirked but said nothing. He had started to enjoy the dynamic between the two of them—Hermione's relentless discipline versus Ron's carefree nature. It was grounding in a way, normal amidst the strange world of magic.

But as Harry skimmed through a book on the basics of potion-making, something odd caught his attention. A faint sound—a whisper, almost too quiet to hear.

"Harry…"

He froze, his fingers tightening on the edge of the book. The voice was back, faint but unmistakable. He glanced at Ron and Hermione, but they seemed oblivious.

"Did you hear that?" Harry asked, his voice low.

"Hear what?" Ron said, frowning.

Hermione looked up, her brows furrowing. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry lied, shutting the book. "Just… thought I heard something."

Hermione didn't look convinced, but she let it drop. Harry tried to focus on his studies, but the whisper lingered in the back of his mind, a shadow that refused to fade.

---

Hagrid's Insight

Later that afternoon, Harry suggested they visit Hagrid. He wasn't sure why—maybe it was the comforting presence of the half-giant, or maybe it was the hope that Hagrid might offer some clue about what he was experiencing.

Hagrid's hut was warm and inviting, filled with the smell of freshly baked rock cakes (which Harry wisely avoided). Fang, Hagrid's enormous boarhound, thumped his tail happily as the trio entered.

"'Lo, Harry, Ron, Hermione," Hagrid greeted them, his face lighting up. "What brings yeh down here?"

"We just wanted to visit," Harry said, settling into one of the oversized chairs. "It's been a lot to take in, starting here."

"Aye, it can be," Hagrid said, nodding. "But yeh've done well so far. Sorted into Gryffindor, makin' friends. Yer parents'd be proud."

Harry smiled faintly, but something in Hagrid's tone caught his attention. "Hagrid… did my parents ever talk about magic that wasn't… normal?"

Hagrid's bushy eyebrows knitted together. "What d'yeh mean by 'not normal'?"

Harry hesitated, unsure how to phrase it. "I mean… something different. Stronger, maybe. Like it doesn't follow the rules."

Hagrid scratched his beard, looking thoughtful. "Can't say as I know much about that. Yer mum and dad were powerful, sure, but their magic wasn't… unusual. Why d'yeh ask?"

"No reason," Harry said quickly, glancing at Ron and Hermione. "Just curious."

Hagrid's sharp eyes lingered on Harry for a moment, but he didn't press the matter. "Well, if yeh ever need help, yeh know where to find me."

---

A Duel in the Dark

That evening, as Harry and Ron made their way back to the common room, they found themselves cornered by Draco Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Well, well," Malfoy drawled, his pale face alight with smugness. "Out for a little stroll, Potter? Or are you just lost?"

"Shove off, Malfoy," Ron snapped.

Malfoy ignored him, his cold grey eyes fixed on Harry. "Heard you had a bit of trouble in Potions yesterday. Not living up to your fame, are you?"

Harry felt a spark of anger flare inside him. "At least I don't need my goons to back me up."

Crabbe and Goyle growled, but Malfoy held up a hand. "Let's settle this, then," he said, his voice low and challenging. "A duel. Tonight. Trophy room."

"Fine," Harry said before he could think better of it.

"Harry!" Ron hissed, but Harry ignored him.

Malfoy smirked. "Midnight. Don't be late."

---

The Trophy Room Showdown

That night, Harry and Ron slipped out of the dormitory, tiptoeing past Neville's snores. Hermione caught them at the common room exit, arms crossed and looking furious.

"You're going to get us all expelled!" she hissed.

"Go back to bed, Hermione," Ron whispered.

"No! I'm coming with you. Someone has to keep you from doing something stupid."

Harry didn't argue. The three of them crept through the dark hallways, the silence broken only by the occasional creak of the floorboards.

When they reached the trophy room, Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. Harry felt his anger simmering again—had Malfoy tricked them?

"Coward," Ron muttered.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from the corridor. Harry turned, wand raised, but it wasn't Malfoy.

It was Filch.

"Run!" Hermione whispered.

The three of them bolted, their footsteps pounding against the stone floors. They raced through the castle, darting down unfamiliar corridors until they finally ducked into an empty classroom, hearts racing.

"That was close," Ron panted.

Harry, however, wasn't listening. He was staring at the far corner of the room, where a faint, glowing light pulsed in the darkness. It wasn't natural—it felt alive, and it seemed to be calling to him.

"Harry, what are you—" Hermione started, but Harry took a step forward.

The light flared brighter, casting long shadows across the walls. Harry felt the strange energy inside him stir again, stronger this time, and he reached out without thinking.

The light vanished, leaving them in darkness once more.

"What was that?" Ron whispered, his voice trembling.

"I don't know," Harry said, his hand still tingling. "But I think it's trying to tell me something."

For the rest of the night, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he had just taken a step toward something far bigger than he could comprehend.