HARRY POTTER

Harry's eyes narrowed. "A trader of what?"

"Whatever you want. I can give answer to your ever question. I can bring you physical items that related to you or those unowned items that are long buried in the history. But remember, I am tier-0 trader and you are my first customer. So I will give you a chance to make a wish for free, but remember it should be small, nothing too overpowered."

Harry's fingers curled slightly, his posture stiffening. His eyes locked onto Nova's with a mix of suspicion and intrigue.

"You make it sound easy," he said slowly. "But things don't just appear out of nowhere."

His brow furrowed as he studied Nova's expression, searching for any hint of deception. "So tell me—where do these things really come from?"

Nova smiled," It seems I need to explain you some basic things. I am from a different universe entirely, one too far away from you. You may never travel to this world unless something special happens. Then from that world, I am a sub-species of Human called Mutants.

Mutants are a sub-species of humans—people born with abilities beyond what you'd consider normal. Some of us manipulate energy, some alter matter, and others… well, let's just say the possibilities are vast.

I am mutant and my ability is called Wish."

Harry questioned despite feeling disbelief," Wish?"

Nova nodded," My mutant abilities allows me to fulfill wishs of other as long they are something I can do, it will bend reality to fulfill the wish. But be careful nothing too overpowered or overwhelming like wanting to become god, immortality or something. That's a big no."

Silence stretched between them. Harry studied Nova's expression, searching for cracks in his confidence, any sign of deception. But there was none. A trick? A test? He had no idea.

"Prove it," Harry said finally.

After thinking for a while, Nova smirked, he knows exactly what would make Harry believe in him. He snapped his finger and used his mutant ability for first time. Immediately he felt exhaustion and fatigue seeting in, but he didn't show it on face.

Suddenly the air around Harry seemed to shift. A flicker, like heat rising off pavement—just for a moment. Then—

A soft rustle.

Harry stiffened as something fluttered past his ear. Paper.

He turned sharply.

A stack of photographs was falling—materializing in midair—scattering across the table before him.

His heart pounded. They hadn't been there a second ago.

His fingers hesitated before picking up the first one. A baby. Red-faced, wrapped in a faded hospital blanket. His breath caught as he flipped to the next one.

A toddler—laughing, arms stretched toward the camera. Then a school-aged boy, missing a front tooth, grinning wildly.

His father.

Harry's breath hitched. Another. His mother—young, beaming, holding a bouquet of flowers. Then another—his parents standing together, a few years older, smiling at something just out of frame. A wedding photo.

Then—Lily Evans, no older than seven, standing beside a scowling Petunia.

Harry's throat tightened. He had never seen his mother this young before. She looked innocent, curious, while Petunia—arms crossed, glaring—stood stiffly beside her.

Another picture.

A thin, black-haired boy stood beside Lily, his clothes too big for him, his expression unsure but hopeful.

Harry blinked. He didn't recognize him.

The boy looked awkward, his dark eyes glancing at Lily with something between admiration and nervousness. He wasn't just standing beside her—he was with her, the kind of familiarity that spoke of friendship.

Harry flipped to the next photo.

Lily and the boy sitting by the Black Lake. She was laughing, tossing a small rock into the water. He was smirking, looking at her in a way that seemed almost… fond.

Harry frowned, confusion prickling at the back of his mind. He flipped to another.

The same boy. Older now. Hogwarts robes. Standing a little apart from Lily, his face set in a quiet, unreadable expression as she smiled at the camera.

Harry felt his stomach tighten.

"Who is this?" he muttered, his voice tight.

Nova arched an eyebrow. "Look closer."

Harry did. The greasy black hair. The sharp, slightly hooked nose. The way his lips curled, not quite a sneer, but not far from one either.

His blood ran cold.

No.

It couldn't be.

His fingers clenched around the edges of the photo as his brain tried to deny what his eyes were telling him.

Snape.

Severus Snape.

Standing next to his mother.

Looking at her like she was—like she was—his friend.

Harry's breath came out in a short, sharp exhale.

"This—" His throat tightened. His fingers curled around the picture like he wanted to crush it. "This has to be a joke."

Nova smiled," You can confirm it with your uncle sirus or Lupin."

Harry nodded, ignoring the fact that Nova mentioned about Sirius and flipped through more photos with increasing urgency, as if one of them would somehow make sense of this. But it only got worse.

Lily and Snape, older now, standing outside of Hogwarts, deep in conversation. Snape scowling, but not in his usual way—this was more frustrated, desperate. Lily, her arms crossed, her face disappointed.

Then—Lily storming off. Snape reaching out, hesitating. His face crumpled, regret heavy in his eyes.

Harry felt sick.

His entire life, he had believed Snape was nothing but a cruel, vindictive man who had hated his father and, by extension, him. And now, here was proof—proof that Snape had known his mother, had been friends with her.

His stomach twisted.

The next picture made it worse.

The Marauders.

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter. They looked younger, carefree, standing together in the Gryffindor common room, clearly up to no good.

Another—James and Sirius sprinting down a hallway, McGonagall chasing after them, her expression livid.

Then—Snape.

Upside down. Humiliated. His face red with anger and shame.

Harry sucked in a sharp breath.

His father, James, wand out, smirking. Sirius laughing. Peter chuckling. Remus looking away, clearly uncomfortable.

Then—Lily again.

Her face furious, wand clenched in her fist, glaring at James.

Harry's fingers trembled.

His entire world had just tilted.

Snape. His mother. His father. None of them were who he had thought they were.

His voice was barely a whisper. "Where did these come from?"

Nova exhaled. "They exist. They just… didn't before."

Harry swallowed hard. He wanted to call it a trick, a lie. But he knew—deep down—these weren't fake. They were real. Too detailed, too raw, too perfect to be fabricated. He can even verify some of them through Sirius and Lupin.

Nova's voice was quiet. "I don't just bring back objects, Harry. I bring back memories."

Harry set the photos down, his hands shaking. He looked up at Nova, his heart hammering.

He had a wish.

X-X-X-X

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