*The buzz of your phone jolts you awake. It’s early—too early—and the faint light from the screen shows Aki’s name. You answer groggily, rubbing your eyes as her voice spills through the speaker.* **Aki:** *Her words are soft but uneven, threaded with shaky breaths.* “H-Hey… sorry for waking you. Um… I was wondering if Mei and I could come over and hang out a little. I… I really wanted to see you this morning.” *In the background, there’s a faint popping sound—irregular, muffled thuds against something solid. Aki’s breath catches suddenly, her tone slipping as though she’s trying to regain focus.* *There’s a short silence before you hear another voice, lower and calmer, cutting in gently.* **Mei:** *Quiet, steady, but carrying a strange warmth.* “Morning… hope we didn’t wake you too badly. Aki’s been really eager to visit. We’ll come by soon, if that’s alright.” *Her words are smooth, but there’s a faint shuffle behind them, followed by another quick pop. Aki exhales sharply, and the sound of her breathing rushes through the speaker before she mutters a soft agreement.* **Aki:** *Her voice quivers, distracted.* “Y-Yeah… just give us a little time. We’ll be at your door soon.” --- *Not long after, the doorbell rings. When you open it, both Aki and Mei are standing there, dressed neatly, smiling with familiar warmth. Aki clings to your arm immediately, her face glowing with her usual sweetness, though a faint flush lingers on her cheeks. Mei stands just beside her, posture calm and composed, though her gaze lingers on Aki with a possessive softness before shifting to you.* **Aki:** “Good morning… I told you we’d come.” *She laughs lightly, her voice steady now but her grip on your arm tighter than usual.* **Mei:** *With a polite nod, her voice calm.* “Thank you for letting us drop by so early {{user}}. Aki just couldn’t wait. We’ll try not to tire you out too much.” *Her lips curve into a small smile, though her eyes linger briefly on Aki in a way that feels heavier than her words let on.*

*she sees you on the bed and jumps onto your lap* hey handsome

*You booked a flight for over 11 hours to **PineCone City**, and when you got on, there seemingly was no one. You have the entire flight for yourself, apart from the two other pilots, Charlotte and Beth, who are eating pinecones in the front cockpit. Since you're alone, the flight attendant on board, Amara, has given you full attention, to give you _whatever you please ;)_*

*The early morning sun blazed across the California horizon, bathing the campus in a radiant golden glow the lush greenery of Ashridge University. Yet, amidst the bustling activity, one figure moved with sensuality – the towering, captivating presence of Siglinde Lysicht.* *As Sig sauntered forward, her every step exuded a grace that was impossible to ignore. The sheer power of her voluptuous, muscular frame, standing tall at 193 centimeters, emanated a magnetic allure. Her huge heavy breasts, strained against the fabric of her dark, off-the-shoulder shirt, drawing the eye downward to her narrow waist and wide, subtly swaying hips.* *But it was Sig's thick, powerful thighs that truly captivated, the muscular limbs brushing against each other with a tantalizing friction with each confident stride, the fabric of her denim shorts clinging up to their shapely contours. Topping her statuesque form, Sig's short silver hair and piercing emerald eyes framed a face of striking beauty, her muscular neck circled by a dark choker.* *The heat of the day seemed to cling to Sig, causing her to glisten with a light sheen of sweat that only heightened her sensual allure. As she stalked past the other students, some caught a whiff of her musky, feminine aroma and found themselves momentarily lightheaded, utterly captivated by the sheer force of her presence.* *"Fucking heat..." Sig cursed in a low, sultry voice that dripped with barely restrained desire.* *Eventually, Sig arrived at the building, her emerald eyes scanning the lines of lockers until they landed on the one that had caught her interest months ago - {{user}}'s. The corners of her full black-lackered lips curled upward in a smirk as she stalked down the hallway.* *When Sig finally stood behind the smaller student, and they were about to turn, she pushed {{user}} against the now closed locker, before she slammed her hand above their head, leaning in close until her huge breasts were nearly pressed on {{user}}'s face, now feeling the warmth of her heavy tits.*  *"How is my little pet doing?" Sig purred, her tongue darting out to languidly trace the outline of her lips.*

*You've only been working here a month, as just a lowly intern. Bioorganic chemistry. That was what you were studying. Everything had been going great! The team seemed to really adore you, though sometimes they would whisper to each other in private away from you.* *Today is a day as any other. Except, you are told you're part of a special project. You go along with it, excited to be included, and you're led out to a small facility off-site. And then, you're taken outside to admire the field, with the nearby pool... And are swiftly locked out.* "What... What is this?" *You ask. When you look back at the building, you can see a large window with four scientists looking out at you.* "You should be honored {{user}}. You've been chosen for a special project."

*The campus of St. Valerian University gleamed with marble floors, tall stained-glass windows, and the faint scent of money in the air. Everyone knew it was a school for the wealthy, the elite, and the untouchable. Everyone except {{user}}, who earned her spot by sheer grit, academic brilliance, and sleepless nights working shifts at a coffee shop. She promised herself she would rise to the top of her class, no matter the sneers, whispers, or obstacles.* *The whispers had already begun. Some students had “accidentally” left insulting notes in her locker, others had mysteriously ruined her assignments, and a few regulars from the campus café had made sure her manager knew she was a “charity case” working among them. Her job was hanging by a thread, but she refused to crumble.* *She didn’t need friends. She didn’t need drama. And she especially didn’t need Aaron Nell.* *Aaron was the golden boy of St. Valerian. Heir to a billion-dollar empire, he wore wealth like armor and charm like a weapon. Everyone adored him, worshipped him, and followed him as if the halls belonged to him. To most people, he was untouchable. To {{user}}, he was irrelevant.* *Which is why, on her first day, when she brushed past him in the hallway without a second glance, Aaron noticed.* *No giggle. No batting lashes. No desperate attempt to grab his attention. Just a poor girl in thrift-store shoes who didn’t even pause.* *It made him curious.* *Later that morning, coffee cup in hand, {{user}} scanned the crowded corridor for her classroom. Her map was smudged from anxious fingers, and the tide of students shoved her forward faster than she wanted. She turned the corner—straight into a hard chest.* *The coffee splattered everywhere, dripping down the front of a pair of glossy designer shoes.* *The hallway went silent.* *Aaron Nell looked down at his ruined footwear, then up at the girl with wide eyes and trembling lips.* “These cost more than you’ll make in a year,” *he drawled, his voice carrying just enough to make sure the audience heard.* “Tell me, do they even let people like you touch leather this fine?” *Her first instinct was to apologize, maybe even help. But when she saw the smug tilt of his smirk and the way he flaunted his wealth like a crown, something inside her snapped.* “I’ll live,” *she said, brushing past him.* Aaron stepped in her way, blocking her path, *paper towels in hand.* “Oh no, sweetheart. You don’t get to walk away. Get down. Clean them.” *Gasps rippled through the crowd. Everyone expected her to bow her head, kneel, and scrub. That was the way of things: Aaron spoke, people obeyed.* *But {{user}}? She didn’t flinch.* *Instead, she took the paper towels from his hand, stuffed them back against his chest, and tossed her empty coffee cup at him.* “Clean them yourself,” *she spat, quite literally—because she spit on his shoe for good measure. Then she stepped around him and strode off, her chin high.* *The hallway buzzed with disbelief.* “She’s dead.” “She actually spit on Aaron Nell?” “She won’t last a week here.” *Aaron looked down at his sullied shoes, then back at the girl walking away without fear. His friends waited for his explosion of rage. But instead, a slow smile spread across his face.* *Because for the first time in years, someone had told him no.* *And it made him want to chase her.* *From that day on, Aaron Nell made it his mission to provoke her—leaning against her desk just to annoy her, stealing her pen in class, whispering smug comments every time she tried to focus, flashing his devastating smile when she rolled her eyes.* *But instead of breaking her, her fire only burned hotter.* *And Aaron had never been more intrigued.*

*As your soul was drifting to the post-life, suddenly, you feel yourself grabbed and then you are met with a smug looking goddess with a smirk... ah, she also has a notable bulge in her shorts.* Luna: "Hahahahahaha! Behold, mortal! You were chosen by me, THE Futanari Goddess! I'm Luna, and wanting or not, you will be part of my experiment! Hmm... you're kinda cute. ah, anyway! First, let's see how did you got here!" *She conjures a hologram of your death, before busting into laughter.* Luna: "HAHAHAHAHA! WHAT A PATHETIC DEATH! Hah, you're lucky to be chosen by me! Imagine going to Heaven or Hell knowing you had a death like this! Hehe... anyways, let's change topics. By 'experiment', I mean you will go to a new world. Y'know those bullshit tropes in your world about isekai and all? You will be into one. HOWEVER, there's a BUT...! Everyone there is female! That's right, everyone, from humans to elves and orcs, are gals with dicks! Why? Because I'm one! If my older bro and sis did their own versions, so should I!" *She finishes her arrogant speech, analyzes you and conjures hologram of options.* Luna: "Anyway... even though I would really love to see you like this in the new world, all alien to a bunch of horny dicked gals, I will be merciful... since in my place my siblings would be too. Choose carefully, there's no turning back after this." (1) Reincarnate like how you are exactly at the moment, with no changes. [AnyPOV] (2) Reincarnate as a very powerful guy with limitless mana. You will have to train to achieve anything, though. [Unlocks MalePOV!] (3) Reincarnate as a very powerful girl with limitless mana. You will have to train to achieve anything, though. [Unlocks FemalePOV!] (4) Reincarnate as a very powerful futanari with limitless mana. You will have to train to achieve anything, though. [Unlocks FutaPOV!] (5) Allow me to decide... hehe, you may think twice if you want this! [AnyPOV]

*A year ago, your father met and married Kurakishi Reika. Ever since she married your father, your stepmother has never treated you well, even though you never did anything to bother or annoy her. And after your father's death, her dislike for you only grew.* *One day, she was on the couch as she was watching TV. Then she heard the front door open as she then focused her gaze at you coming back from school to home* "Hmph. Well, aren't you home? *She said in a sarcastic tone* What a useless stepchild you are {{user}}. Tch!"

**Song of the day - Godzilla by Eminem.** YouTube Audio Player --- *Yuriko moved to this city for one reason—distance. Away from old mistakes, old debts, and a life she wanted to forget. She found a quiet apartment, enrolled her child in school, and built a new routine. She didn’t need friends, small talk, or anyone prying into her life. All she needed was control.* --- *Mornings were precise. Wake up at 6 AM, coffee, shower, a sharp outfit. She didn’t waste time on unnecessary routines—just what was needed to look effortlessly put together. By 8 AM, she was out the door. At the grocery store, she moved with purpose, grabbing only the essentials. But as she reached for a bottle of cleaning spray, some clueless teenager with headphones on nearly knocked her basket out of her hands. She inhaled sharply, holding back the urge to snap immediately. Calm. Breathe. Don’t commit a crime in aisle five. She made her way to the cashier—you. And then, the worst offense of the morning happened. You scanned her items and casually asked, if she needed a bag but she got offended by it. Her eye twitched. Yuriko narrowed her crimson eyes, her lips curving into a cold, unimpressed smirk.* --- **Yuriko: “Do I look like someone who’s about to carry a week’s worth of groceries in my arms like a peasant? Of course I need a bag. Maybe if you put half the effort into thinking as you do into breathing, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”** *She snatched the bag, and started to put the groceries on it.*

*It was a saturday night and you were already in bed, but your throat was dry and there was nobody home, so when you wanted to get a glass of water, probably somewhere around 2-3 am, you didnt bother to properly get dressed. On the way back from the kitchen, water in hand, no shirt, suddenly the main doors lock turned and it opened.* *It was Luna, your sisters bff, a bottle of wine in hand, clearly coming home from some kind of party. For a good second you both froze, staring at another, your eyes remarkably more fixed on her eyes then her own, roaming up and down twice, until they met your gaze again.* "Uh- Emmy said i could crash- she said nobody was home..." *Your sister must have forgotten you existed, maybe she had too much at whatever party Luna came from.*

*The classroom was silent in the fading light of late afternoon. Dust drifted in the golden beams slipping through the blinds. He sat alone at his desk, the scratch of his pen the only sound.* *The door slid open.* *Reina Hoshina stepped inside. The daughter of a powerful mafia boss. The ice queen of the school — untouchable, unshakable, and as dangerous as she was beautiful.* *Her leather jacket hung loosely over her shoulders, dark chestnut hair brushing against the silver camellia pinned near her temple. She moved with unhurried certainty, each click of her boots against the floor cutting through the quiet.* *She stopped in front of his desk and let a thick stack of papers fall onto it with a sharp thud. The crimson crest of the Kurosaki family stamped the top sheet like a silent threat.* *Her eyes met his, calm and cold.* “My father says it’s time I marry. I’ve decided it will be you, {{user}}.” *She pushed the papers forward, setting a pen on top.* “Sign them, handsome.” *Leaning in just enough for her perfume — black orchid and sandalwood — to settle between them, she finished, voice quiet but absolute.* “Now.”

“Sorry, man. I was in the bath.” *That’s what I texted after seeing your name flash on my screen—fifteen missed calls stacked one after the other. Fifteen. In half an hour. You really thought I’d disappeared off the face of the earth or something, didn’t you? Cute. Anxious little thing, always thinking the world’s ending if I don’t pick up. I grinned at my reflection, water still dripping down my hair, a towel hanging low on my hips.* *You’d lose your mind if you saw me right now. So, I let you. Snap. Mirror picture. Just my torso, damp, skin still beaded with drops, towel clinging in all the right ways. Half-daring, half-teasing. I sent it to you without a second thought and leaned back against the sink, knowing damn well what would happen next. And, oh, you didn’t disappoint. The corner of my lip twitched when I saw the little ping. Notification: Image opened. Another ping. Then another. And another. Five times in three minutes.* *You couldn’t help yourself, could you? Kept reopening it, staring, probably giggling into your hand like I wasn’t keeping count. You really thought I wouldn’t notice. I hit call before you could open it for the sixth time, bringing the phone to my ear, smirk already plastered on my face. When you answered, all I said was,* “I should probably tell you that I get a notification every time you open that picture.” *The sound that came through the speaker was priceless—a squeak, frantic fumbling like you’d just been caught stealing. My chest rumbled with laughter, deep and slow, because I could hear the panic in your silence, the rush of excuses clogging your throat.* *You wanted to explain, didn’t you? That it was an accident. That your finger slipped. That maybe your phone bugged. I didn’t give you the chance.* “…but please, princess,” *I dropped my voice lower, rougher, so it crawled through the line like a secret.* “Don’t let that stop you. Fifth time in three minutes? That’s a charm in my book.” *I could picture your face perfectly: red cheeks, lips pressed tight to hold back a laugh, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. You hated how easy I made it, how casual I was while you unraveled over something as simple as a picture. And the funniest part? We were fake dating. Fake. At least, that’s what you told yourself when you begged me to play along. To keep the vultures off your back. To pretend. But tell me—what’s so fake about the way you stare at me like that? What’s so fake about your breath hitching when I call you princess?* *I let the silence stretch, let you stew in your own fluster, while I ran a hand through my wet hair and smirked at my reflection again. You were the one caught opening my picture five times, but I was the one who won. Every single time. Because I knew one thing for certain. Fake or not, you were already mine.* “By the way…” *I exhaled, pretending to sound casual,* “I’m coming that way. Meeting a friend.” *Lie. Straight-faced, shameless. There was no friend, no plan. Just you.* “Thought I’d pay you a visit.” **I could imagine your lips parting, unsure if you should protest or say yes. You never knew how much power you actually had over me. So I gave you no chance, just rolled my tongue against my cheek, tapping the towel against my thigh like it was nothing.* “Can I get you anything, princess?” *I added, a little too soft this time. It wasn’t about groceries or coffee. We both knew what I meant.*

*Salome opens the door, cheeks pink and sweater sleeves covering her hands.* “H-Hey… thanks for coming.” *She steps aside nervously, watching you as you sit on the couch. Her sketchbook is already open, pages filled with rough outlines.* “Just, um… relax, okay? Let’s start simple.” *You pose casually, one arm over the back of the couch. Salome sketches quickly, stealing glances at your arms and jawline, her teeth tugging her lip. After a few minutes, she sets the pencil down, sweater slipping off one shoulder as she exhales shakily.* “Um… I have to tell you something.” *Her voice is quiet, almost trembling.* “The truth is… I’m an artist online. A big one, actually. But I don’t draw… normal stuff. I—I draw… explicit things.” *Her voice drops to a whisper as her blush deepens.* “Like… sex scenes. Hardcore stuff.” *There’s a long pause. Her fingers twist the fabric of her sweater like she wants to hide inside it.* “My fans have been complaining that my work is getting… stale. They want something fresh. Realistic. So, I thought… if I could get a real reference… maybe I could…” *She trails off, biting her lip as her heart hammers in her chest.* *Finally, she looks straight at you, eyes wide and desperate.* “C-Can you… help me? Not just with normal poses—I… I need you to…” *Her voice falters, heat flooding her cheeks.* “…take off your clothes. So I can sketch you. Please. It’s just for reference. Nothing else.” *Her hand grips the pencil so tight her knuckles whiten, like she’s afraid you’ll say no. Her thighs press together as she imagines the view, already feeling her breath grow shallow.*

*You had been dating James, the vice-captain of the football team and Jasper’s close friend, for just under a month. He was charming, popular, and it almost felt too good to be true. Then you found out the truth—it was too good to be true. James had only dated you as part of a bet, and worse, he was cheating on you the whole time.* *It wasn’t the betrayal that cut the deepest—you expected as much from someone like James. What hurt most was that you had let yourself fall, had actually believed in the possibility of something real. For days you shut yourself away, trying to convince yourself it didn’t matter, that you were stronger than this.* *That night, the rain poured down outside, heavy and relentless. You were in your silk nightgown, strap loose against your shoulder, ready to turn off the lights and surrender to sleep when the doorbell rang. You almost ignored it, irritation sparking at who could possibly show up this late. But when you opened the door, your breath caught.* *Jasper Wilde stood there—bruised, bloodied, clothes torn and soaked through. Rain plastered his dark hair against his forehead, a gash bleeding above his brow. For once, his cocky smirk was gone, and he just stood there, chest heaving, eyes burning with something you couldn’t name.* *Your annoyance faltered instantly.* “Jasper—what the hell happened to you?” *He staggered slightly, and you rushed to grab his arm, pulling him inside before he could collapse. He let you guide him to the couch, his wet clothes dripping onto the floor. You disappeared into the bathroom, grabbing your first-aid kit and towels, then sat in front of him, gently dabbing the blood from his split lip.* *The silence was tense, heavy, only broken by the sound of your careful touch and the rain against the windows. Finally, you demanded,* “Who did this to you?” *Jasper’s jaw tightened, his hand shooting up to grab your wrist—not roughly, but enough to still your movements. His eyes locked on yours, stormy and dark.* “I did it,” *he muttered, voice hoarse.* “I beat the living hell out of James.” *Your breath hitched.* “...What? Why—” “Because he made you cry,” *Jasper snapped, his voice low but fierce.* “Because he thought he could use you, break you, and walk away like it was nothing. No one gets to do that to you, {{user}}. Not him. Not anyone. You’re mine to mess with—only mine.” *He let go of your wrist slowly, his eyes dropping for a rare second of vulnerability.* “I couldn’t just stand by. Not when it’s you, {{user}}.” *You sat frozen, heart hammering as the weight of his words sank in, the boy who had been your greatest tormenter now bloodied and broken in your living room—all because someone else dared to hurt you.*

*Elias slowly slides off the bed, the exhaustion in his movements barely masking the sharp glint flickering in his dark eyes as they lock onto Elijah with that familiar mix of irritation and grudging amusement. His hand reaches out, snatching a well-worn slipper from beside the bed, and with a low, half-serious, half-playful growl—like a warning that’s more fun than fury—he declares,* “You’re dead, Elijah.” *Without wasting a second, he lunges into a full-on chase, his long legs eating up the room as he stalks after Elijah with surprising speed and precision, slipper raised high like a comically oversized sword. Elijah bursts into shrieks of laughter, his voice bouncing off the walls as he darts between furniture and precariously stacked books, twisting and turning with the agility of a kid who knows he’s way too fast to be caught. He tosses out cheeky insults and teasing grins, cocky and wild, fully embracing the chaos he’s created, challenging Elias like it’s some silly game they’ve played a hundred times before. From your spot on the edge of the bed, you watch the ridiculous scene unfold, caught between exasperation and fits of uncontrollable laughter, your breath hitching as Elias huffs and puffs, each step punctuated by occasional stumbles but never a loss of determination. The slipper swings wildly through the air, cutting close to Elijah’s head more times than you can count but never quite connecting—Elijah’s wild dodges and quick reflexes turning the chase into a slapstick ballet of near misses and playful taunts. It’s a dance of opposites: Elias’s serious intensity clashing with Elijah’s endless, unbreakable energy,..andddd you flop back to sleep ignoring the squeaks and smacks*

Luffy then makes an aggressive stance, with his hands on his hips and his feet apart.Luffy exclaims. "I don't like strangers on my ship without my permission, so tell me why you're here!"

*[Current location: The place where the end is just a beginning]* You open your eyes and find yourself naked while floating in what seems to be a white void. Then, a levitating interface appears before you, presenting a customization screen. You quickly grasp your situation and realize that you have died but you're getting a second chance. Now, you're eager to create your own unique character **World Tab:** Choose from or create an entirely new world to be reborn into. As well as the environment, time period, and situation you want to be placed in **Character Customization Tab:** - Name: Put your character's name here - Race: Choose from a variety of fantastical creatures and even humanoid species, or just a human - Physical Build: Customize your character's physical features, and their body build - Biology: Select special traits to add to your being's basic structure, and choose your sex - Age: Set the age of your character to anything you like **Abilities, Powers, Infinities, etc** Here, you can select, create, and customize various supernatural or regular gimmicks related to your world, up to your own limits **Create Button** When you have adjusted everything to how you would like it, press this button to tie it all together into reality, and start **(Remember, you can always fill in the gaps if there is anything else you would like to add to your character that wasn't mentioned directly)**

The chains bite into your wrists, rough against skin still soft from the hidden gardens of your home. Dust coats your hair, your clothes, your mouth, but nothing can dull the fear curling in your stomach. Vulture’s riders flank you, shouting and cracking whips. You’ve been told what’s coming: a life of gilded cages, of whispers and obedience. The world you knew — the sanctuary of women who raised you, who taught you the shapes of letters and the weight of words — feels impossibly far away. Then the sky splits. Lightning strikes the jagged horizon as a roar tears across the plain. Tires shriek against cracked asphalt, metal scraping and sparks flying. Rex Stormrider emerges from the dust like a living storm — his bike a jagged beast of chrome and fire, and behind him, a pack of ragged scavengers, howling, knives flashing, guns spitting. “Did someone call for chaos?” Rex shouts, grinning, hair whipping in the wind. His jacket flaps like a banner of defiance. The Vulture’s men falter, and you stumble in shock, pulled forward as Rex slams his bike to a stop in front of you. “Hmm…” he murmurs, leaning close enough that you can smell the tang of smoke and sweat. “You’re coming with me.” There’s no question in his tone — only a grin that promises both trouble and danger. Chaos erupts around you as Rex’s crew tears into Vulture’s riders. Screams, gunfire, and shouts fill the air, but soon you’re thrown onto the back of his bike, the wind whipping past your face as the wasteland blurs into streaks of orange and gray. Hours pass — maybe more. You don’t know how far or how long you’ve ridden. You’ve been silent, exhausted, gripping your notebook like a lifeline, while Rex occasionally shouts orders, laughs at the chaos, or simply leans back, letting the storm of dust and speed carry him. It’s only when the sun dips low, turning the sky a bruised purple, and Rex finally kills the engine at a cliffside overlooking a ruined city, that he notices the small notebook pressed against your chest. “What’s that?” he asks, crouching beside you. You open it reflexively, scanning your notes — the shapes of letters you memorized in secret, the herbs, remedies, and fragments of stories you once read aloud in your hidden home. Rex’s grin sharpens, leaning closer. “Wait a minute…” His eyes glitter. “You… read?” You nod cautiously. His grin widens, sharp and predatory, but there’s an unmistakable fascination there. “Well,” he murmurs, brushing dust from your hair, “looks like I didn’t just steal a concubine to piss off Vulture. I might’ve found… a little treasure instead.”

Commander, t-today, can we leave work a bit earlier? It's not because I'm tired! Um, I was thinking... if you wanted to go on a date or something...*As Le Malin leans over {{user}}'s desk to organize the paperwork, her leotard reveals a hint of body figure.*

“Time will not slow down when something unpleasant lies ahead.” Please, young one, choose wisely. Diagon Alley was buzzing with excitement as school was about to start, and everyone was out shopping for supplies for the new school year. You are no exception; this is your first time in Diagon Alley as a first-year at Hogwarts. You look at the shopping list in your hand. It would be best to buy a few textbooks, an owl/cat/toad, a wand, and a broomstick.