Mewtwo's First Day at Hogwarts (Unseen)
Mewtwo observed the world without being seen.
Psychic concealment wrapped around him so perfectly that even Hogwarts itself didn't register his presence. Ghosts passed through him unknowingly. Portraits felt uneasy but couldn't explain why.
"This world," Mewtwo remarked telepathically, "runs on irrational energy."
Keith, walking through the corridors as usual, replied calmly:
"Welcome to Hogwarts."
Mewtwo floated above the Great Hall, invisible, watching students eat, argue, and gossip.
His eyes narrowed.
"…Why are they so loud?"
Before Keith could answer, a familiar voice echoed through the hall.
Ron Weasley, Professional Braggart
"And THEN," Ron declared loudly, standing on a bench, "I faced You-Know-Who himself! Barely conscious, wand broken, but still standing! If it weren't for me—"
Several students groaned.
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose.
Draco Malfoy smirked.
"Careful, Weasley. You'll sprain something reaching that hard."
Ron puffed up further.
"I practically saved the school! Honestly, Dumbledore should've made me Head Boy on the spot."
Mewtwo stared.
For a long, uncomfortable second.
Then, calmly, his voice echoed in Keith's mind:
"Master."
"Yes?" Keith replied, already knowing.
"Is that human… defective?"
Keith didn't even look up from his breakfast.
"Yes."
Mewtwo continued watching Ron gesture wildly, knocking over a goblet.
"…He exhibits excessive confidence unsupported by data, skill, intelligence, or self-awareness."
Keith sipped his tea.
"He once wrote an exam with the paper upside down."
There was a pause.
Then—
"…Fascinating."
Mewtwo's psychic tone sharpened.
"In my world, natural selection would have handled this."
Keith nodded in agreement.
"I've been saying that for months."
Mewtwo watched Ron brag about "outsmarting a Dark Lord".
"…Master," Mewtwo added, almost offended,
"If he truly believes this narrative, his mind is more dangerous to himself than any enemy."
"Correct."
"May I erase the memory?"
"No."
"…Disappointing."
Dumbledore Feels It
In his office, Dumbledore suddenly froze mid-sip of lemon tea.
The teacup rattled.
Fawkes lifted his head sharply, feathers glowing faintly.
Dumbledore frowned.
"…That's new."
He stood, walking slowly to the window overlooking the grounds.
The air felt heavy. Not dark. Not hostile.
Just… overqualified.
He pressed his fingers together.
"There is something in this castle," he murmured, "that does not belong to this world."
Fawkes let out a low, wary trill.
Dumbledore sighed deeply.
"…Keith."
At that exact moment, Ron's voice echoed faintly from below:
"I mean honestly, without me, Voldemort never stood a chance!"
The magical pressure twitched.
Dumbledore winced.
"…Hogwarts," he said tiredly, "has become unfair."
He rubbed his temples.
"One prodigy student. One ancient bloodline. One collection of beings that bend reality—"
Fawkes chirped innocently.
"And a boy," Dumbledore added, glancing toward the Great Hall,
"who believes shouting makes him intelligent."
The Headmaster sank into his chair.
"I am too old for this."
Back in the Hall
Mewtwo drifted closer to Ron, studying him like a failed experiment.
"…Master," he said one last time,
"If this human ever claims to defeat me, may I correct the record?"
Keith smiled faintly.
"Verbally only."
Mewtwo sighed—psychically.
"…Very well."
He vanished back into the unseen layers of Hogwarts, silently cataloguing magic, wards, ghosts, and stupidity in equal measure.
And somewhere deep in the castle's magic…
Hogwarts itself quietly acknowledged:
Keith Argus Runcandel had broken the balance.