Extra 1
I didn't notice at first. Didn't notice the way it slides under my skin, how it made the air around me a little lighter, made my steps a little quieter.
I was seven, I think, when the thought first crawled into my head.
I'd just finished gardening, along with a few other children. The orphanage was filled with shouts and cries, as scores of kids, from mere babies to young teens in a hurry to wash their face, brush their teeth, or change into that one shirt save just for this opportunity.
My hair was a mess, clothes torn and dirty, and I was pretty sure there was mud on my face. Sitting miserably on my bed, I knew that by the time the potential adopters came around, I'd still be in the bathroom, picking at the dirt stuck on to my pants.
Only, running my hands through my hair, I noticed that there was no dirt, my short black hair smooth and combed.
(Unfortunately, my powers didn't extend to my clothes, but even when the couple left with the paperwork for younger, blond boy, I wasn't upset, to busy processing that I just did magic)
-break-
A year has passed, and staring at the ceiling, I had finally grasped the concept that I, Alexandra, an adult formed through an amalgamation of experiences, was now a defenseless eight year old, who could open the lock on the cookie jar, clean her clothes with a swipe of her hand, and heat up her bedroom (that she shares with five other girls but there's not much she can do about that) when the winter chill becomes a little to harsh.
I was reincarnated as some physics breaking magic creature.
Of course, I didn't immediately realize I was in Harry Potter specifically. Yes, magic invoked thoughts of wands, robes, and pointy hats, but it wasn't until I saw a plump, garishly dressed man- wizard, shake the hand of a confused, malnourished boy, his uncle turning a bright shade of red alongside, that I realized that this life, of course, had a catch.