Young Celestial Wizard [Celestial Grimoire, Harry Potter]

Harry sat at his desk by the window, morning light streaming through the apple tree outside. The past week had kept him busy - learning about magical herbs with Perenelle, reading Nicolas's recommended beginner potion books, and helping in the garden. But now he finally had time for something he'd been eager to explore.

He pulled out the red silk-bound book Grandpa had given him about Hun and Po souls. The moment he opened it, the strange symbols shifted and reformed into readable text. He recalled the exact moment he'd received this soul transformation - how it had felt like being split in two, yet becoming more whole at the same time.

The first passage caught his attention immediately: "Master Wei speaks: The soul is like water and steam. The Po remains below as dense water, anchoring the vessel. The Hun rises as ethereal steam, free to touch the heavens. Yet they are one and the same, merely in different states of being."

Harry traced the words with his finger. The book continued: "Young scholar, know this truth - as the moon pulls the tide, so does the Hun pull the spirit skyward. As the earth grounds the root, so does the Po anchor flesh. In harmony they flow, in discord they falter."

Harry slowly flipped through the pages. The next section expanded on Master Wei's teachings:

"The Hun soul, being Yang in nature, reaches ever upward like flames seeking heaven. It carries with it consciousness, dreams, and higher thought - untethered by earthly concerns. When one's Hun is strong, the mind remains clear even as the body falters. Master Li demonstrated this truth when he continued teaching despite severe illness, his thoughts unmarred by fever."

Harry thought back to when he'd first received the offer about the Three Hun and Seven Po. The offer had mentioned how the Hun would protect his mind from bodily weakness. According to this book - his consciousness was like a flame floating above a candle, aware of the wax below but not bound by its condition.

The book continued with Master Chang's observations: "The Po soul grounds us in flesh, being Yin in nature. As water seeks the lowest point, so does the Po maintain our earthly vessel. It tends to muscle and bone, to breath and blood. A cultivated Po soul keeps the body strong without conscious effort, like a garden that tends itself."

More passages followed, describing how the Hun and Po worked together: "Venerable Master Sun notes that Yang cannot exist without Yin, just as day requires night. The Hun provides the spark of will, while the Po executes that will through the body. When practicing martial arts, the Hun decides the strike while the Po guides the hand. In meditation, the Hun soars while the Po remains steady."

The text grew more complex as it discussed the traditional belief in Three Hun and Seven Po: "The Three Hun govern spirit, consciousness, and wisdom. The Seven Po manage the physical senses and drives. Yet contemporary philosophers understand these as aspects of the greater Hun and Po duality..."

Harry slowly put the book aside and stared out the window at the apple tree. His perfect memory let him recall every word he'd just read, but understanding it all was different. The book said his Hun soul was like steam rising up, while his Po soul was like water flowing down. That made sense - he'd seen both happen plenty of times during firebending practice next to the Great Lake.

But there was more to it. His Hun soul protected his mind, keeping it clear even when his body was tired or hurt.

And his Po soul... Harry flexed his hand, watching the muscles move. The book said it maintained his body without him having to think about it. Like how he didn't need to exercise anymore to stay fit, or how his chi paths had become smoother for firebending. His Po soul was taking care of all that automatically.

Together, they worked as a team. His Hun soul decided what to do, and his Po soul made it happen. Just like when he painted - his Hun soul imagined the picture, while his Po soul guided the brush. Or when he flew as an eagle - his Hun soul chose where to go, while his Po soul handled all the complicated wing movements. This all made sense, and the words from the special offer were clear as well.

But some parts were still confusing. The book talked about Yin and Yang a lot, saying his Hun soul was Yang and his Po soul was Yin. But what did that really mean?

Why did Yang things always try to go up, like flames reaching for the sky? And why did Yin things always try to go down, like water flowing downhill? There had to be a reason, but the book didn't explain it clearly enough for him to understand.

Harry sighed and looked at the other book he'd avoided reading first. Its ancient leather binding creaked as he opened it on his desk. The title simply read "The Theory of Yin and Yang" in gold letters that shifted into English as he watched.

"Yang is movement, Yin is stillness," the first page stated. Harry frowned - that didn't help much. He flipped forward a few pages, thankful that he didn't need to slowly read because of his memory.

"Think of a campfire," the book suggested. "The flames dance upward, always moving, always changing - that is Yang. The wood stays below, dark and still - that is Yin. Yet the wood feeds the flame, and the flame turns wood to ash. They need each other."

The next part talked about day and night. The sun was Yang because it brought light and movement and heat. The moon was Yin because it brought darkness and quiet and cold. But you couldn't have day without night, just like you couldn't have up without down.

"Yang spreads out, Yin pulls in," the book continued. "Like how heat makes things expand and cold makes things shrink. Or how light spreads across a room while shadows gather in corners."

Harry finished flipping through the book, letting out a small breath. He looked up at the bright sunlight streaming through his window, then at the shadows in the corners of his room. Light spread out everywhere it could reach, while shadows bunched up in little spaces.

He held up both hands, palms facing the ceiling. Normally when he made fire, he just... did it. Like how he knew to flap his wings when he was an eagle. His body just knew what to do, guided by both trained muscle memory and instinct.

A small blue flame popped up above his left palm, barely bigger than the flame of a candle. This was how he always did it - letting his body guide the fire naturally.

Then Harry tried something different. With his right hand, he focused his full attention on the way the chi flowed, making it move in a rougher manner through his chi paths. A small orange flame appeared, like the ones he used to make before his soul transformed.

Harry stared at both flames. The blue one was definitely hotter - he could feel it. But wasn't Yang supposed to be hot? His Hun soul was Yang, so shouldn't it make hotter flames?

Unless...

His eyes widened as something clicked in his mind. The Po soul had made his chi paths better. The Po soul was Yin. And Yin pulled things together, made them smaller and tighter.

So when his chi flowed through the paths that his Yin soul had made better, it got squeezed together more. Like how water flowing through a smaller pipe moved faster and hit harder.

But his fire was still Yang - it still wanted to spread out and move and dance. It was just... more focused now. More controlled.

Both flames flickered as Harry thought harder. Maybe that's why blue fire was stronger - because it had both Yin and Yang working together. The Yang of the fire itself, and the Yin-influence of his Po-soul refined chi paths.

"Like the campfire in the book," Harry whispered to himself. "The wood is Yin, the flame is Yang. They need each other."

He closed his hands, extinguishing both flames. Everything was starting to make more sense now.

Except there was one thing…

Harry opened and closed his hands a few times again, thinking about the orange flame he'd made. Why had it come out that way when he focused on controlling the chi flow and made it move differently?

He scrunched up his nose, trying to work it out. When he'd paid attention to how the chi moved, that was his mind doing the work - his Hun soul. And his Hun soul was Yang, which explained why the flame turned orange instead of blue. His Yang attention had overwhelmed the Yin influence from his refined chi paths.

"But Yang needs Yin," Harry muttered, remembering what the book said. Even his orange flame must have had some Yin in it, just not enough to keep things balanced like with the blue fire.

He held up his hand again, staring at his palm. What would fire be like with no Yin at all? Or no Yang? Could he even make fire without Yang, since fire itself was Yang?

Maybe if he tried to separate them entirely somehow... but what would that even make? Harry shook his head, he didn't have any clue how to do that. He could make the Yin weaker by manually controlling the fire instead of letting it flow naturally. But making it even weaker than that? Or reducing Yang when fire was already Yang? It made his head hurt just thinking about it.

A gentle knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. "Harry?" Perenelle called.

"Come in," Harry called out, turning around to face her.

Perenelle opened the door and stepped inside, her white hair neatly braided today. "How are you settling in, dear?" Her eyes drifted to the painting on his desk - a view of Hogwarts castle at sunset, the windows dark and unwelcoming. "Oh my, what a beautiful painting! Though it looks rather lonely..."

Harry looked at his work, at how he'd painted the castle's towers reaching up into grey clouds, no lights in any window. Small tears gathered in his eyes before he could stop them. He'd tried to show how far away Hogwarts felt now, how much he missed his home.

"Oh, sweetheart." Perenelle crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him. Her robes smelled like garden herbs and fresh bread. "You won't be away from the castle forever, you know? And haven't you had at least a little fun here? Those Whistling Daisies certainly seemed to think so."

Harry leaned into her hug, sniffling slightly. "The garden is nice," he admitted quietly. "And the magical paints you showed me yesterday were really cool. But..."

"But it's not home," Perenelle finished gently, running a soothing hand through his messy hair. "I understand. When I first left my family's house to study at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, I cried every night for a week. But do you know what helped?"

Harry shook his head against her shoulder.

"Keeping busy with exciting new things to learn. And speaking of learning..." She pulled back slightly to look at him with a warm smile. "Nicolas is quite eager to start your first proper potions lesson. He wants to see if you've understood those beginner books he gave you."

Harry wiped his face with his sleeves. The potions books Nicolas had given him were pretty simple compared to what he just read about Hun, Po and Yin and Yang. Most of it was stuff he'd already seen in the Hogwarts library anyway - basic ingredient preparation, safety rules, and simple brewing techniques.

"I think I understood everything," Harry said, separating fully from the hug. "There were lots of warnings about not mixing certain ingredients, and how to cut things properly so they don't mess up the final results."

Perenelle nodded with a smile. "Good. Nicolas can get quite... enthusiastic when teaching potions. Best to know the safety rules before he starts showing you the fun parts."

Harry paused in the midst of walking to the door when his green eyes darkened.

[Language Comprehension - Mushoku Tensei] – Costs 25CP, 175CP available to spend.

The Six-Faced World has many languages and going from one continent to another without learning the language there would make you unable to communicate with other people. This grants you an ability to understand, speak and read any language that you heard people speak and seen its words in hours. When speaking to someone with a different language that you didn't learn, you can instinctively guess the general meaning of their words and slowly piece them together to form words allowing you to speak the said language down to their accent with enough time. Seeing written words of an unknown language with constant exposure or trying would allow you to slowly piece it together allowing you to read the written words with enough time. This also allows you to invent your language or decryption to prevent others from knowing your secrets that you wrote in books that you don't want others to find out about.

Harry didn't hesitate long before accepting. Twenty-five CP seemed like a small price to pay for such a useful ability. After all, he'd seen lots of books in the Hogwarts library written in different languages - Latin, Ancient Greek, and others he couldn't even identify. Being able to read those would be incredibly helpful.