Chapter Seven – Illusions, Internet, and Ice Cream Plans
Six months had passed since Jonathan Grace first walked into that rainbow-bright classroom.
And honestly? Things were getting weird.
As he walked beside his mum toward school—his small hand tucked inside hers, bag bouncing lightly against his hip—Jonathan let his thoughts drift.
'Six months. Half a year. And things are changing faster than a Windows 98 boot screen in safe mode.'
The progress was undeniable.
He'd started managing minor illusions—mostly visual tricks. His proudest (and most disappointing) attempt? An apple. Red, glossy, and utterly… intangible. It flickered like a badly rendered 3D object, and if anyone looked too closely, it warped sideways like someone had sat on a hologram.
Still, it was magic. His magic.
But it came with a cost.
His accidental magic was becoming more frequent—and harder to control. When he got angry, doors slammed without touching them. When he got too excited, lights flickered, or the radio switched channels by itself.
One time, while laughing at a joke during dinner, his spoon started spinning in the soup like a merry-go-round.
And it wasn't just him.
Harry, too, was a magnet for strangeness. A trash can had once flipped over on its own and landed squarely on Gordon's head while the boy was shouting at Harry. Another time, a gust of wind had knocked Piers into a hedge just as Dudley tried to trip Harry.
Coincidence?
Yeah, right.
'It's magic, alright. Accidental and messy, but magic nonetheless. I haven't said anything, of course. Still pretending I don't know. But it's obvious. Harry Potter is just as magical as me.'
---
At school, things were slightly more tolerable than Jonathan had first feared. Primary education turned out to be broader than just ABCs and numbers.
To his genuine delight, they were also learning history, geography, basic science, and—much to everyone's surprise—Latin.
The moment the option came up, Jonathan had leapt at it.
His parents had been puzzled.
"Latin?" Annabeth had asked, raising a brow. "That's a bit old-fashioned, isn't it?"
"Classical. And useful," Jonathan had replied innocently.
Michael just chuckled. "Well, if you wanna be a professor or a wizard—"
Jonathan had blinked, almost snorting his juice.
'You have no idea how accurate that is, Dad.'
To his amusement, Harry had signed up as well.
"I don't really get it," Harry admitted. "But it sounded cool."
Jonathan grinned. "It is. And trust me, one day you'll be glad you learned it."
---
Dudley Dursley: Jonathan's Favorite Entertainment Channel
In the meantime, boredom remained Jonathan's greatest enemy.
And so, like any innovative young mind, he found a solution.
Pranking Dudley.
It wasn't malicious—just enough to relieve the soul-crushing tedium of basic arithmetic and paper-cut scissors.
There was that time when Dudley sat down on the loo and the water exploded upward like a geyser. Or the time he tripped into a full trash bin and couldn't get out for five minutes. Or the time he wet himself after seeing a ghostly figure drift across the hallway—a ghost Jonathan had carefully conjured with another warped illusion.
Harry always laughed. Quietly. But genuinely.
And no matter how many times Dudley got tricked, soaked, or scared out of his wits, he never stopped trying to bully them.
It always ended the same way: pants down, face-first into a puddle, or mysteriously tangled shoelaces.
Jonathan never admitted to any of it, of course.
He was far too innocent-looking.
---
Today, However… Was Special
As they reached the school gates, Jonathan practically vibrated with excitement.
Today was Dudley's birthday—a celebration Jonathan would normally avoid like the plague.
But this year… things had taken an unexpected turn.
Mrs. Figg, their usual babysitter, had broken her leg after tripping over a dog.
'She has cats. What was the dog even doing there?'
And with the Dursleys going to an amusement park, they had no one to watch Harry.
No one… except the Graces.
Jonathan's mother had been more than happy to have him over.
"Oh, that poor boy. Always looks so lonely," Annabeth had said.
Harry was coming home with them after school. To Jonathan's house. For the first time.
And that wasn't even the best part.
---
Operation: Cyber Sorcery
"Guess what?" Michael Grace had said that morning, beaming with fatherly pride. "The company gave me a computer! Proper desktop and all! And I even got us that internet cable thing, too."
Jonathan nearly short-circuited.
A working computer. And internet access. In the early 90s.
'I'm going to cheese this system so hard they'll think I'm writing code in Parseltongue.'
He'd already begun designing a program—something that could piggyback off existing CCTV systems and tap into local camera feeds.
Primary observation targets:
The Dursley household.
Charing Cross Road.
Any place with too many "coincidences."
And of course, the computer would also be great for playing games with Harry.
---
After School – Pizza, Pixels, and Private Talk
Harry looked overwhelmed the moment he stepped into Jonathan's home. The Graces had a small, cozy house—bookshelves, soft furniture, and a faint smell of cinnamon from Annabeth's baking.
"Whoa," Harry said in awe. "This is… nice."
"You say that like you live in a cupboard," Jonathan joked.
Harry smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
They played a few rounds of Minesweeper (Harry hated it) and then tried a racing game (Harry loved it). Jonathan showed off his typing speed and opened a console window to show a bit of code.
"What's that for?" Harry asked.
"Just something I'm building," Jonathan said. "Kinda like a radar."
When they were alone—Annabeth had gone to the kitchen to make tea—Jonathan turned serious.
"Hey. Can I ask something?"
Harry blinked. "Sure."
"…Are things okay? With your relatives?"
Harry's smile disappeared.
"I'm fine."
"Harry—"
"I said I'm fine," Harry said quickly. "Please don't tell anyone. I'll get in trouble."
Jonathan's chest tightened.
"…Okay," he said softly. "I won't tell."
But his mind was already working on a new plan.
If the adults wouldn't protect Harry, he'd find a way.
Through code.
Through magic.
Through anything.
Because Harry Potter wasn't just his friend.
He was the reason Jonathan was in this world to begin with.
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Comment on how should I make the bext chapter like? Do you want John to go to diagon alley or a time skip to when he is 10 years old where the plot actually begins.