I walk, I walk, I walk. How long have I been walking? It's been a long time. And walking for what feels like eternity has brought me to this small, two-floor house. For some reason, there are colorful lights swirling inside it.

  That's what I see from where I stand. Now, I'm lying on the fence surrounding the house's area.

  Let me get involved in this situation, just because I don't have anything better to do, and because I can.

  I wish to be right in the action. And suddenly, I find myself in a hall.

  Where am I? Oh, I'm on the second floor of the house.

  A scary noise echoes from the first floor below, accompanied by colorful lights.

  Since I can know everything, I want to know what just happened. It turns out that someone has just died, and their murderer is walking up the stairs. Oh, she's coming here. Let me try to look calm, or friendly, in case she wants to meet me.

  I'll use the "she" pronoun until I know the gender of the person. There are other languages with a single pronoun for both genders, but this one isn't one of them. This pronoun difference for genders will mix up my mind in the future. Maybe I better just stick to "She" for everyone. It depends on my mood, and my laziness. Anyway, let me not interrupt the flow.

  What does the murderer think now? I don't know. But I don't care about it either, because I'm just a passenger.

  The murderer appears, stepping into the hall from the stairs. She holds a wand in her hand and wears a robe that covers almost all of her body. Her face is hidden underneath the hood.

  I'm not in the habit of ruining people's lives, so let me step aside. But before I do, I'd like to read this murderer's mind.

  The murderer thinks to herself: "Where is she? I better finish this quickly. Who is she? Is she going to cause any trouble? May I use any spell on her. Maybe the forgetting spell will work fine."

  She will erase my mind. Let me show her some respect and play along with her game. Otherwise, we can't get along.

  I say, "Just erase my mind."

  The murderer stops for a while, doing nothing.

  If she uses her spell on me, I will act as if it has worked. In fact, nothing happens unless I want it to. And now, I don't want to lose my mind.

  I can also know every decision she will ever make, or see the near future with ease. However, fun is my first priority here, and mystery is the secret sauce. So, I will just hold myself back for a while because I wonder where this leads. But before I let the fate of this scene continue without my intervention, I would like to see the potential future ahead and the consequences of my decision to be passive here.

  As I wish, the future reveals itself to me faster than time, and I have come to comprehend.

  There is a woman and a baby in the room at the end of this hall. And this murderer is intent on killing both of them, just as she killed the previous person. The previous person who was just killed was the husband of the woman in that room.

  What a drama! But I don't care, so let me step aside and only watch.

  I step aside and near the wall, the murderer slowly lowers her wand, watching me carefully.

  I can still feel her intense anger within herself. I better stop investigating people's privacy, including their emotions. But maybe I should read her intentions.

  The murderer thinks I am a threat, but her intention to kill the rest of the family urges her on. So, she decides to proceed with her mission. With that in mind, she walks past me, heading to the very room I mentioned. As she walks away, I try to study her physique.

  Wow, I wonder what her body looks like underneath the black robe. I wish I could slide my hand underneath...

  Before I start to form some naughty thoughts, I slap myself hard in the face. The slap makes a noise, and hearing it, the murderer suddenly turns around and raises her wand at me. In response, I wave my hands in a friendly gesture.

  I hope she understands my signals of intimacy. Or, do gestures of friendliness differ from life to life? I haven't acquired anything from this life yet.

  The murderer slowly moves her index finger to her lips and presses on them, making a sound of 'shh'. I understand that this gesture indicates that she wants me to be silent.

  I nod at her.

  By this movement, I try to imply that I have understood her order, or that I am not stupid enough to miss that message.

  The murderer is at the door of the room. She moves her hands to the handle of the door and pulls it down.

  She is literally slow in those movements, as if she is ill or something. But, that's just an impression.

  As the handle pulls down, the door opens ajar, and she peers inside.

  I hear a scream coming from inside the room. Then, those screams turn to some kind of begging for help or mercy.

  Damn, that murderer acts too frightening. I am glad that I am not in that room instead of them when she peered through the door.

  The murderer pushes the door and opens it wide, and walks in.

  Let me walk out of this place, it's getting really boring.

  As I walk off to the stairs to walk down, a green radiant light travels across the hall at the speed of light. It just came in and went out.

  What just happened? I want to know!

  Suddenly, as I wish for the knowledge, I start to know everything about the last few seconds.

  The murderer has killed the female, I mean, the woman - sorry for being sexist here.

  And now, she attempts to kill the baby, but for some reason, she can't do it. The same spell that killed the mother instantly is not effective on the baby for some reason.

  That woman was the mother of the baby, and in fact, a witch, or something like that. That means she could use spells and magic. And as the murderer threw her spell upon the baby, the mother sacrificed herself and died instead. Before she died, she managed to activate a spell of protection.

  The spell is a love bond between them, and it works based on love. Because the mother sacrificed herself for her child, The spell will protect the baby until her mind becomes an adult. That's why the murderer can't cause any harm to her.

  Damn, have I learned too much? I should limit this omnipotent view. I don't want to spoil the mystery here. In short, this baby is under protection that no evil spell can break through.

  To amuse myself with this fact, let me annoy this murderer for her incapacity.

  I tiptoe to the room and enter. I'm amazed by the view in front of me.

  What a mess! What did she use here, a grenade or something? The walls are literally on fire, and the dust that came out after the mother's death is spread across the floor. The little flames light up the room. Okay, the scene is a mess.

  Meanwhile, the murderer is clenching her hand that holds the wand. She's angry because she hasn't fulfilled her mission. The baby is still alive, and it seems time is running out for her.

  Am I misinterpreting her thoughts and emotions? I am not using any of my power to read her intentions, to be honest. Actually, I can help her out if she asks me, but it seems this is not the case. I can just do that for sure, if she...

  Hey, I just realized that the baby is not crying. She's just sleeping on her side in her bed. This strange calmness must be due to the love spell that protects her against this malicious murderer.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Let me tap the murderer on the back to make her pay attention, because it seems she's lost in her thoughts.

  I forgot something important. Before I tap her on the shoulder, I would like to mention my appearance. I know I should have done this prior to the beginning.

  I am of middle height, currently a male, with long straight black hair and a navy blue skin complexion. My eyes are navy blue as well. My sclera, let me call it that, is pure black, like my hair. And my teeth and the inside of my mouth, including my tongue and gums, are black as well. My clothing is a simple pair of black clothes that covers my nakedness enough. And my feet are bare.

  What a weird look. But it's materialistically cute to me. I'll use this appearance for now.

  But that wouldn't be fair. My appearance has been described, but those people around me haven't had a chance.

  Fine. I'll try my best.

  The murderer is taller than me, she has a white, pale skin... Wait, I can't see her face or any body parts because they are hidden underneath her robe. And I won't want to know this by a simple wish, because I prefer discovering them by hand.

  Imagine what is appealing to you for anyone whom I forget to describe, because everything and everyone is just like that.

  Where was I? Yes, I was about to tap the murderer on the back.

  I tap her on the back, and suddenly she swings her wand at me. A green light blasts from the tip of the wand, flying through the air. Before the light hits me in the face, I wish for it to stop. And it stops, floating and hanging gently in the air.

  Seeing this, the murderer suddenly feels intense fear and uncertainty. Because of this, she runs out of the room, and I no longer see her.

  I should have read her thoughts as she felt the fear. I can do it now too, but let me look at this little cutie here.

  I look down at the baby in the bed, who is still asleep, and then sit on the edge of the bed.

  There is a lightning-shaped mark on her forehead.

  What is this? Let me know, or leave it undiscovered. I think it's not an important part of...

  What was that? Has the ground shaken from bottom to top?

  The house suddenly shakes from the ground again, and I start to hear cracking sounds coming from the skeleton of the house.

  This house will definitely collapse, I know it.

  The ceiling of the room starts to fall down, cracking apart.

  I want to save this baby.

  I climb onto the bed, keeping her under my body. With my hands and knees on the bed, the baby under me, and me over her, this scene must not be seen by someone else, because it would put me in trouble.

  "My intention is clean here, I am not trying to harm her," I would say, if I were in front of a judge.

  Again, I hear a loud sound of collapse, and a waterfall of materials falls on us, and we fall down to the ground with the flat. The house collapses completely.

  Time passes.

  Now, after the house has collapsed to its ruin, I realize the baby is safe. We are among and under the bricks and wood, and the baby is still asleep, under my body.

  This murderer went too far and caused the house to fall on our heads. Anyway, I better wish for us to get out of here.

  Before I grant my wish to leave this mess, I start to hear some shouts, and they are coming from outside the pile of house materials. Someone is shouting in fear and anger.

  She must be some relative of this family; she must feel bad. Let me push these ruins off my back and take this baby out of this havoc.

  I pull the baby to my chest with one arm and hug her. After holding her tight, I start to change my position from this bending-over type to kneeling. I switch to kneeling, and then I stand up. As I stand up, I push the piles off, and the full, solid, one-piece material of wood drops to the sides.

  Long story short, I bring us outside, and I start to see the dark sky.

  I could have just wished to be outside, and it would have happened, though. But this way looks more sacrificial.

  I am standing up, looking around, while holding the baby in my arms. She is about one meter tall, but she hasn't learned to walk yet. So, I better hold her tight. If I leave her, she'll fall down, and I don't want that to happen. Her mind is not mature enough to even stand still.

  Where is that person who has been shouting?

  I look around and see a tall person standing next to a motorcycle. She seems to be weeping, with her hands covering her face.

  She must be crying over the death of this family. Thankfully, this baby hasn't died. Let me cheer this tall person up a little. Then, I can hand this baby over and leave this place. I literally don't understand this emotional stuff.

  This person is the tallest in height. She looks wild, with her bushy black hair. She wears leather boots and clothing. She interests me with her primitive look, to be honest. Let me call out to get her attention.

  I shout: "You! Over here! We're safe!"

  The tall person lowers her hands from their face, raises their head, and looks straight at me. After seeing the baby, she starts to laugh with joy, then runs towards us.

  I know she must be happy to see her relative alive. I can read her mind, though, but I know she will speak anyway.

  The tall person says: "Oh, I was thinking of even killing myself! Thank you! Thank you!"

  Thankfully, this won't happen. Let me give them the baby. I want to leave now.

  I walk down the pile of bricks and hand them the baby. The tall person lifts the baby to carry her. We walk together towards the motorcycle.

  The tall person says: "Thank you!"

  Her eyes seem to be searching for someone, or some people.

  I say: "It's nothing serious, you don't have to thank me, actually. Her mother did all the... Oh, I'm sorry."

  Here it comes.

  The tall person suddenly starts to cry aloud, hiding her tears in their arm, wiping her wet eyes. After crying for a short time, her hug the baby even more tightly with both arms.

  That means she was looking for the dead people in the ruined house. And now I've saddened her, I guess.

  The tall person asks: "Have you seen them?"

  No, don't look at me with those sad eyes. I couldn't bear to tell one about the death of her relatives. That's a rough weight to carry. I won't tell them; instead, I'll just lower my head with a sad face expression, because that's what suits this moment.

  I do so.

  The tall person says: "I see. Lily and James couldn't make it! But at least, Harry made it alive. Thank you for saving her again!"

  As her talk, her lays the baby in a box-like part of the motorcycle and cover her with a blanket. Then, wiping her eyes again, she looks down into my eyes and puts her hand on my shoulder.

  she says: "Did you see her?"

  "Who?" I ask. "I just saw the person who... sent the family to heaven."

  I hope I chose the right words.

  The tall person says: "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was here. It's really dangerous to be around. Still, his minions may attack us. We better leave."

  "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" I rub my head. I think she mentioned that murderer. "That means he is a male. Oh, I would like to see her naked pale--"

  The tall person throws a suspicious gaze at me, and before I finish my words, I close my mouth tight.

  Oh, I was about to ruin my first impression. I sometimes think aloud. Actually, it has just come to me that this tall person looks really good. Actually, I'm into everyone's body, and I better stop thinking about this subject. But before I do, I better take a reward for my help.

  As the tall person bends over to check the baby, I check their body aspects. Then she turns around and looks at me, and I look to the side, at a tree or something.

  Chilling. Nothing serious.

  Let me learn her name; I still don't know her gender. But instead of wishing to know it by my nature, I will just ask them.

  "What is your name?"

  "Hagrid," she says. "And I am a male. Why you ask my gender I don't know. What about you, my god-sent friend? I hope you are not a spy or something. Otherwise, I would be really mad at you; you better know this."

  That means Hagrid is a male. Now, will I use "he" pronoun for her... This pronoun difference for genders is confusing for me. Maybe I better just stick to "She" for everyone. That still a possibility. I can change it anytime I want, since I can do whatever I want forever, that includes the grammar as well. But now, I am neutral for this. But slowly, steadily and surely, I am getting irritated.

  Why does this confusion happen because I sense everyone in feminine bodies, so it's hard to guess their gender. And I don't want to strip them every time for this.

  I love everyone regardless of whether they are male or female. That's why I have a bad habit of asking people about their genders. Sometimes people mind it, though. It depends from person to person. Anyway, instead of praising beauty, let me introduce myself.

  I say, "My nickname is Starch."

  Do I still use this nickname? And I don't have any other name. I live forever.

  I continue: "I am a male now."

  As I said "now", I notice the timid squint that Hagrid makes. That was priceless.

  I say: "And oh, I just managed to protect the baby by chance. I'm just a passenger for fun... that's it."

  Hagrid says, "You look strange to me; you have blue skin. You're not a Muggle, are you?"

  I ask, "What's that?"

  Hagrid starts to explain, "A human, in the world of wizards, we don't call them--"

  I point at the baby. "Hagrid, nice to meet you, but I don't want to be fed up with information about the world I'm about to leave. So, you'd better occupy yourself with her safety."

  he says, "You're a wise person."

  After saying this, he looks at the baby, pats her on the head, and sits on the seat of the motorcycle, ready to drive away. I turn around to walk away, and as I do so, I hear Hagrid's loud voice.

  he says, "If you want, I can drop you off where you're heading?"

  I turn to him. "You mean, are you driving?"

  Hagrid replies, "No, we're going to fly now."

  She switches on the motor, and the vehicle floats upwards off the ground a little, with its lamps flickering. I run to the motor, get on my knees, and look under the motorcycle, then stand up.

  This is magic, I guess. It is floating in the air. Cool.

  Hagrid says, "Dumbledore's waiting. But I shouldn't tell you about the secret mission, because he only trusts me with this. Oh, did I just say that? Please, forget about it."

  "What mission?" I ask.

  I smile to indicate that I have already forgotten his secret mission. He has understood my indication.

  Hagrid: "Good."

  Then I start to walk away.

  Hagrid: "Wait, wait, wait! It just came to me. Have you seen her for real? Of course, you have seen her. Look at the mess there is. I mean... Eh, you must be pretty strong because... I am not supposed to say this..."

  Oh, he is holding back something she watns from me. I will his mind.

  "She has seen He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and survived," Hagrid thinks to himself. "Maybe she can help us. If she were a malicious person, she would have harmed the baby. Am I making a mistake now?"

  "I accept," I say.

  After hearing my answer, Hagrid seems confused because she can't understand how I have managed to answer her question in her mind, despite that she hasn't spoken. But she desperately wants my help, so she doesn't allow this to bother her.

  I would have run away if I were him.

  Hagrid smiles. "Oh, please don't make me regret this decision... Was it Starch, right? Good. Come on, sit next to the baby so we can arrive at our meeting point! We have lost much time, we'd better hurry."

  I crawl up to the box-like part attached to the motorcycle and sit next to the baby.

  Wait, a second? She mentioned a name before.

  I ask, "Hagrid, who is Harry?"

  Hagrid still seems a little sad. He wipes his eyes again, then smiles, looking at me.

  "Harry Potter is the baby next to you. He is the only child of Lily and James Potter. At least, he lives."

  "Again, I am sorry."

  "Don't be. There is still hope."

  He puts his hand on the throttle, and then the motorcycle flies off.