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It had taken him a long time to accept his awakening as reality and move on but it was not as if he could do anything else anyway. Perhaps the reason why he found it so easy to accept what had happened was that he remembered his slow death all too clearly.
It was rather hard to forget the constant agony of cancer slowly destroying his body over the course of several months. The searing pain alongside the numbing acceptance remained fresh in his mind. Even thinking about it felt akin to placing his hand on a hot iron, his mind instinctively snapping away and scrambling to find something else to focus on anything else rather than dwelling on the memories.
The painful memories lingered inside his mind, remaining at the forefront of his thoughts and refusing to let go. What was reincarnation after going through something like that what was reincarnation? Nothing.
It was a second chance he was grateful for.
He once wanted to be a hero. He wanted to go on grand adventures, to save the world, to explore lost ruins, and to save beautiful damsels in distress. But those dreams had slowly been abandoned as he grew older. However, those lost dreams had suddenly turned possible in this magical world. His awakening had doused the darkness that had gradually his thoughts as he grew older. His dreams extinguished by his painful experiences were quickly reignited once again by the strongest emotion known to man since his creation— hope.
It had only been seven days since Alaric had been reincarnated into this world, but he had managed to make some sense out of the fragmented memories he had received upon his awakening.
Besides, even though his broken memories were that of an adult male his body certainly was not. He had awakened inside a child's body and along with it came all the instincts and emotions of one, even simple things such as hunger and boredom could frustrate him to the point of tears. It seemed that along with learning the basics of this world which he had long forgotten, he was also going to have to learn how to control his mind from scratch. Going through puberty all over again would certainly be troublesome, but at least he knew what to expect this time.
Having to hold his tongue as his grandfather spoke about magic and work had proven to be just as frustrating, but he knew that he could not give any indication that he was anything beyond an extraordinarily curious seven-year-old.
The existence of soul magic which could anchor the soul to the world and the fact that two souls could exist in a single body together told him that the idea of reincarnation was not entirely unthinkable if the soul was anchored to the world, nor was it unimaginable to push one soul into another body altogether.
If one could manipulate souls but not avert death, then would it not be much more advantageous to embrace death in a way that allowed one to preserve their original personality and memories and be reborn again?
It had not taken him more than a few days to understand that whatever method was used to bring him here was in serious violation of wizarding laws which barely tolerated dark magic, time magic, dimensional magic, and soul magic— much less something that seemed to be a combination of all four at a glance. Besides, he was sure that his circumstances would definitely interest the Unspeakables.
Alaric was certain they were not pleasant wizards to deal with, going by the way his grandfather spoke of the Department of Mysteries. He had thought about researching the mysterious phenomena that had caused his awakening but the potential dangers had made him place those plans on the backseat for the foreseeable future.
He shook his head— he was Alaric Vincent Peverell now, that was his name and would remain so for a very long time. Maybe someday he might be able to travel to his other home again but that day would not come for a long time. It was something that he had eventually come to accept.
Moreover, he had to be very heartless to remain unchanged by the love showered upon him for the last seven years by people who thought of him as family, people who loved him unconditionally and thought the world of him.
Few though they might be, all his family members were all amazing people.
Both his parents had passed away during the last wizarding war which was why he had been raised by his grandparents instead. They rarely talked about them but he had seen his grandparents being overwhelmed by emotions he could not clearly explain on rare occasions, a blend of deep-seated longing and nostalgia.
His grandfather, Octavius Peverell was a cold man who revealed his gentle heart only to those he loved. A pureblood from an ancient lineage, he was infamous in higher circles for his cold demeanour and enchantments. The man was also a master of transfiguration and sometimes entertained Alaric by staging fights between conjured dragons and warlocks.
His grandmother, Elenor Peverell kind to everyone but had a vindictive side that rarely emerged. Born to a muggleborn mother, she was an amazingly thoughtful woman who had never foregone her mundane roots despite being a part of the wizarding world. She was the one responsible for his studies and taught him several subjects such as mathematics, language, culture, and dancing.
Some of his lessons were quite invigorating, focusing on subjects he'd not learned before but most of them were rudimentary and he had quickly decided that he was not going to torture himself by learning subjects he already knew— pretending that he could not understand basic concepts such as counting, addition, and multiplication was almost a nightmare that was quickly bringing his already unstable emotions to a frustrating extreme.
He knew that he would have to prove that he was dedicated to studying and assuring his grandmother that he could learn on his own and asking for a test every month along with materials that he needed to learn or read. He was prepared to discard his pride as an adult and throw a nasty tantrum over this if necessary.
However, he did not think he could escape his writing lessons anytime soon. He had been trying to get accustomed to the usage of feathers and parchments for writing, one of the few subjects that he had been seriously studying since his handwriting had always been abominable. The agenda he planned to work on as soon he had enough free time was magic, more specifically— wandless magic.
Alaric had trouble deciding where to start so he had asked his grandfather to get him a book on wandless magic and the man moved his head to the side in confusion before saying, "I would get some for you, my boy."
Yes, it had been as easy as asking for a book.
Alaric knew why his grandfather had not disproved his request because of his frequent trips to the family library— wandless magic was apparently a great way to hone the usage of magic in general and also helped enhance a wizard's willpower, a helpful tool to control magic itself. He had also discovered that wandless magic was something that was also almost useless beyond honing magical control if one did not have a Warlock's level of power.
Even then, it could only be used at most for grandstanding at most though there were indeed some spells that even normal wizards could learn to cast wandlessly through practice. Apparition was one such magic, but it was said to be dangerous if not done properly and he had experienced that personally.
Alaric had decided that he would start working on his plans whenever the healers declared him to be completely healed. He had already visited St Mungo's with his grandfather the previous day for a general checkup and had been declared perfectly fine after a long and thorough inspection. Deciding that he wanted to start early, Alaric got out of his bed to begin his morning run so that he could begin experimenting with magic early
"Perhaps I was looking at this wrong," Alaric mused out loud, closing the book on wandless magic that his grandfather had given him. "But the idea does have some merit so it might just work,"
He had been looking for anything out of place when asked to call upon his magic as if his body structure had been changed upon his reincarnation, hoping that something might have changed inside of him because of magic. He thought about it for a moment before extending his arm towards the feather he had been trying to move for the last few days once again but instead of trying to manipulate the object physically through an unseen force, he decided on another approach this time. Taking a deep breath, he centred himself and grasped for the rhythm of his own body
He focused intently on the feather, studying it using unwavering focus as he had been for the last few hours, and imagined the object moving towards his palm—wantingit to happen with all the focus and intent he could muster.
It happened instantly— a tender heat enveloped his body, as gentle as a mother's touch. It coursed through every part of his being, dusting his cheeks and driving away any cold doubts he had.
It took some moments for the gentle warmth to completely fade away and it was like being plunged into the dark after standing under the noon sun. Where once he felt that he could turn imagination into reality and do everything he could think of, now all he now felt was what lay before him and even that was limited to the meagre spectrum of human senses.
He slowly opened his eyes and laughed out loud, joy dancing in his gleaming bright eyes as he glanced down at the feather that had moved halfway toward his outstretched palm in response to his unspoken thoughts. The sounds of the manor began to register in his mind now that he was no longer so focused on his sight.
"Yer a wizard, Alaric!" he declared, playfully invoking the iconic phrase he once yearned to hear, awaiting the Hogwarts envelope with dreams of embarking on a magical adventure.
It took some time for the vertigo of wonder and nostalgia to recede as Alaric resisted the urge to jump around the room and brought his racing mind to order after an embarrassingly long period of amazement. He was finally able to settle down with some help from the meditation exercises his grandmother had given him upon learning that he was interested in exercise, slowly breathing in fresh air upon clearing his mind was an unexpectedly comforting experience and it helped settle his raging emotions down rather quickly.
Magic was not a quantifiable force that could be measured or understood, rather it was closer to an event.
A phenomenon that manifested as an unseen force for no apparent cause other than the intent of the caster— Alaric could not find any other words to describe what he had just felt, now understanding why all those wizarding books had been so vague. It instantly became apparent how important a wand could be if it shouldered the burdens of all that he had experienced just for a botched experiment, required an external tool to bypass imagine and gather all that focus.
He could finally understand why his grandparents had started frequently using magic after his first bout of accidental magic when they had always been so cautious around him before, his grandfather even going as far as to use various kinds of magic right on him during his playtime when he would refuse to even show him his wand before. They had been trying to teach him the feel of magic, advertently encouraging him to use magic more frequently by making him subconsciously mimic them.
To say he had been confused when frequent bouts of emotion had started making the very world around him bend and change randomly was saying it moderately. At the time he had no idea what he was supposed to do, only that every time he used accidental magic it felt as if he was being dipped in running water.
Now he finally realized that what he had been feeling was pure magic as it poured out of his body in soothing streams of power, a sensation unique to his magical being. Perhaps the reason why he had been unable to use magic properly was because he had thought of it as something already inside of him that could be manipulated. The thought of magic once again brought an amazed gleam to his eyes and he grinned, unable to help himself and not wanting to.
The kids of his generation were nowhere near his current mental age, making him ahead of the group by a large margin but that alone could not ensure he had perfect control over his emotions which had a vastly fluctuating spectrum because of the natural age of his body.
Alaric might be a reincarnate who had awakened fragmented memories of his previous birth, but he remained a small boy when all was said and done. He had considered toning down his natural emotions and trying to act more mature but had discarded the thought just as quickly.
It may have been better in the long run but he wanted to experience this second change to its fullest, and growing up was just a part of the experience. He would not abandon his youth just because it might prove to be more convenient for his dabbles in magic. He wanted to enjoy a life full of excitement and adventure this time, he wanted to change the world and leave behind a legacy that would be remembered for eons. Alaric wanted to be great...
In this magical world, such a dream certainly appeared imaginable, even more so now that he had proven that he could consciously use magic without a wand.
Sure, this single use of wandless magic had made him understand the importance of wands all too well. It had made him understand he would be able to do much other than practice wandless magic and observe adults perform miracles that would take him years to recreate but at least he had the opportunity to watch something useful, something that he could learn from.
He had asked his grandparents to allow him to study most of the rudimentary subjects on his own and they had been reluctant at the beginning, but he had thrown a tantrum and declared that he would go back to tutoring if he could not score well on his own. He pleaded that he would learn everything required of him but he wanted to do it on his own and his grandmother had asked him to learn elementary mathematics by the evening of the same day.
Alaric could see how biased the test would have been against a normal kid but he had aced it regardless. He now only had to take weekly tests and complete his homework regularly and that had freed him from most of his annoying lessons and given him more time to explore magic on his own.
Alaric wanted to know everything about magic as soon as he could and was upset when he learned that he could not get a wand before he went to Hogwarts, something about focused magic being dangerous to wizards whose powers had not yet matured. But he had other means of learning and though it was not anywhere near as good as actually practising, he now understood that he had to make sure to observe his grandparents whenever they used magic. He might not be able to understand everything they did, but he would make sure to watch and take everything in.
He could at least memorize how they spoke their incantations and waved their wands.
His knowledge regarding practical magic was almost non-existent at this point, but what he did know was that basics were essential and even the smallest of flaws could make all the difference. He could practice wandless magic but his body was far too underdeveloped for anything advanced, and would probably break under the strain if he tried. As far as he understood, magic more or less emerged fully at birth, but it took time for it to mature.
So he decided to watch how adults moulded their magic and learn, even though he knew he would not be able to do the same things they did for a long time. But he could learn basic magical theory and master wandless magic in the meantime, it was the one thing that the memories of his former life could not help him with so he was understandably desperate for any information he could get his hands on.
He had four years before Hogwarts, and he would make full use of the time. If he could not train his spellcasting, then he would train his mind. His knowledge could become power equal to any other if used properly.
Thanks for reading.