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It had been roughly four years since Alaric had begun practicing his wandless magic, and his studies were going fast with his grandmother instructing him on magic.
By his estimation, he was already on third-year material when it came to magical theory but his studies in wandless magic were going a bit slower. Not due to a lack of talent in the branch of magic but due to its inherent nature and the way wizards manifested it.
Wandless magic may not be on par with the miracles adults around him could casually conjure but it was something truly extraordinary, a wonder that amazed him every time it was used. In his mind, magic remained every bit as miraculous as his reincarnation. He could not believe how much potential he had now— every dream, every future, every obstacle, all of them were only bound by the extent his magic would grow in the future.
He had already figured out his major problem over the course of these four years.
He had no innate control over his magic, no muscle memory as adults around him did. Most of the subjects he studied for were mental even though he had not been slacking these four years, not practical. He had watched fully grown wizards use magic every day for the majority of his new life until he reached the point where he could understand each of their actions and movements.
He had already begun to grasp how magic fundamentally felt, a sense that even the most experienced wizards seldom developed according to the records inside his Family Library.
To him, calling on his magic was akin to drawing water from a deep but full well. It was not enough to simply open up my reserves, he had to coax it out just as well. The hard part was making sure to only draw out the precise amount needed and nothing more— too minute and nothing would happen, too much and he would end up wasting magic.
Most people did not really care if they wasted a bit of magic but the very thought was sacrilegious to him. It may have been because of his experiences in using wandless magic but he could not imagine allowing a single manifested drop to go to waste.
He had first managed to access his magic when he was just seven, and he could not begin to describe how much work it had taken back then. He had been forced to learn to ration his magic back then and the practice had become a habit at some point. Over time, he had learned that a person's magical powers could be measured through two primary methods.
The first was magical capacity, which was the amount of chakra one could manifest at any given moment which determined the level of spells one could use. One needed to have a high magical capacity to use advanced magics, because if a wizard could not pour enough magic into a spell fast enough then it was simply beyond them.
Then there was magical density which determined the size and intensity of magic performed. The denser a wizard's magic was, the more potent its effects would be.
With very few exceptions, magical capacity did not vary much from person to person, it was almost universally the same no matter who the wizard was which was completely fine since the amount of magic one could naturally manifest could be improved through practice or slowly accumulated by gathering and folding magic onto itself as it manifested before releasing it.
Magic was a phenomenon that could be moulded into anything the user wanted to, and most adults could manifest magic as naturally as they moved because magical capacity only increased through continuous usage. If magic was an event, then what he had to master was recreation of the cause which resulted in its manifestation and that was akin to a muscle that could be developed through practice.
The density of one's magic was natural and determined by birth but the ease with which wizards could manifest it could be improved. Of course, this was true only for wizards who had reached magical maturity at the age of eleven.
His grandmother had designed his courses in the same way professors did for students at Hogwarts and Alaric could proudly say that he could give any third-year at Hogwarts a run for their money when it came to magical theory and arithmancy. He was even planning to try some other subjects that were not taught conventionally at Hogwarts such as enchantment and spell creating.
He had grown as a person as he had been exposed to magic. Alaric had once been an ordinary man, who longed for greatness and purpose just as any other. It was the reason why his position as just a computer engineer had not been enough. He had always wanted to become more.
But all that changed, a single disease was all it took to end his story.
It had not mattered how many friends or family he had once made, he now knew everyone he had ever loved had eventually embraced death and were reborn as someone else completely unrelated to who they once were. Everything he had ever done— his memories, his hopes, and even his dreams were gone as if they were mere tears in the rain.
He could not explain the feeling that overcame his mind the moment he thought about it, a blend of deep-seated longing and nostalgia.
His new chance would not be the same. Magic had allowed him to be great in a way that was beyond the grasp of ordinary humans, it gave him a power beyond money or influence. It was a power that existed something beyond the normal grasp of mankind, a power unmatched by any another that held power over fortune and death, that presided over time and dimensions.
Magic gave him the strength to rebel against nature itself and Alaric welcomed it as gladly as he could.
That was also part of the reason he was so eager to get into Hogwarts. Even if staying with his parents was a nice experience, Alaric was fairly restricted in the branches of magic he could look into at his age.
He was only allowed a wand when he had turned eleven and he wanted to start practicing the branches of magic that required one. Alaric had even made extensive tables of topics he wanted to explore and magics he wanted to learn.
Wrapped up in the blankets of his bed, he faced away from the window and stared at the dancing shadows of his bedroom wall. He was alone in his room as he usually was when he slept, but he knew he would not be for long. Every few minutes he glanced around, looking to see if it had arrived yet and in between he would count the beats of his heart to pass the time as he strained his ears trying to listen to any signs of the night's expected, visitor.
Tomorrow, he would finally turn eleven years old.
His birthdays were usually formal events that he was beginning to learn to loathe. As the heir to a noble and ancient house, he did not have the privilege of having a quiet birthday party. No, every year he was forced to dress up in the most uncomfortable clothing imaginable and then paraded around like a doll in front of esteemed guests.
In any other circumstance, he would not have given any mind to his upcoming birthday other than mild annoyance at the indignity he would no doubt be forced to experience. This year would not have been any different had it not been for the fact that his Hogwarts letter would arrive today.
Truth be told, the fragmented memories had made this a highly anticipated event even if he knew its coursework was designed to accommodate ordinary children and Alaric was well aware that he was the farthest thing possible from being either ordinary or untrained. The few things that he would be taught there could have just as easily been learned at home, from either the library or his grandmother.
He could see it happening if he asked for it despite his grandfather's conservative views. Maybe it was because he was a prodigy but he had learned that so long as he upheld his duties as the heir to the House and continued to maintain his progress in training, his grandparents would more or less give in to any of his demands. Well, reasonable ones at least.
Yet for some reason, childish passion occupied his thoughts when he thought about going to Hogwarts. The mixture of anticipation and excitement in him was so great it was all he could do to remain awake, waiting for that famed letter to arrive.
Through the ordeal of his death and his subsequent awakening, Alaric had gained an unshakable determination to lead a great life this time, experiencing everything this magical world had. How could he not look forward to studying at the most magical academy among them all?
So when an owl arrived carrying a brown envelope emblazed with the famous Hogwarts crest on the morning of his birthday, he was beyond excited.
His magical journey had just begun.
Thanks for reading.