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I woke up before dawn that morning and decided to have a crack at my books. It wasn't as easy as I'd expected—turns out that having the mories of a grown-up doesn't an my brain is grown-up too.

My underdeveloped eleven-year-old brain wasn't as sharp as I'd hoped. It had a short attention span, but sheer willpower had to make up for it.

After four hours of shuffling through pages, I had a better picture of the first-year curriculum.

At least I don't have to work extra hard to rember all this. My mory's still as sharp as ever.

"Ben, co on down for breakfast."

"Coming."

After breakfast, I decided to try a few charms from the book. I reckoned a levitation charm wouldn't do any harm. I waved my hand, finger pointed at a piece of paper, and said the incantation very slowly: Wingardium Leviosa. Nothing happened.

The second ti, I tried saying it a little faster, but still, no result.

It's the intent I'm missing.

With that thought, I tried again, this ti imagining the paper lifting off the ground.

WOOSHTHUMPCRASHCRASHCRASH

All the books on my desk went flying, landing all over the room and breaking a few things in the process.

"Benedict, what are you doing up there?"

"Umm… nothing, I just dropped my books."

"You better not break the window again."

"I won't, I promise."

Well, I better not touch spells without a wand. I thought as I started picking up the books from the floor.

After that, I sat cross-legged on my bed, closed my eyes, and tried to rember the feeling of casting the spell. Yes, I tried ditating.

For a brief mont, I could feel the flow of magic through my hand. It was a comfortable sensation.

It was like dipping my hand into warm water.

Like every other transmigrator, my biggest fear in this world was Legilincy. I had far too many secrets to hide, and the thought of soone peering into my mind was terrifying.

It only made things worse knowing that Hogwarts was full of expert Legilins. Even the Sorting Hat used Legilincy.

I should practice controlling my emotions. I don't want to be read like a book by Snape on my first day.

Even though there was nothing outwardly suspicious about , I still worried.

"Dumbledore might not have been a dark wizard, but he was a bloody manipulator. His willingness to sacrifice anyone for the 'greater good' made him the biggest threat to my safety—or so every fanfiction I'd ever read had led to believe. Maybe he was actually a chill guy in reality, but I wasn't about to bet on it."

Voldemort, on the other hand, could be dealt with—especially by soone like who knew all his secrets. At the mont, he was nothing more than a parasite. Even after his resurrection, he would only have, at best, a seventh of his soul left—or at worst, a sixty-fourth. Such a fragnted soul couldn't possibly sustain a sound mind.

At the sa ti, my knowledge of this world was a double-edged sword. If Voldemort ever got a glimpse into my thoughts, he'd know everything. If that happened, this world was dood—with in it.

Which ant learning to guard my mind was not just a precaution. It was a necessity.

So, I started my attempt at Occluncy. I tried emptying my mind, just like Snape had told Harry to do. I didn't have much success.

Thoughts kept popping up. The more I tried not to think of sothing, the more my mind latched onto it.

After failing who-knows-how-many tis, I rembered sothing from my past life.

Back when I was a kid, my school had weekly ditation sessions in the mornings. I hadn't followed it much in later years, but I still rembered the teachings.

"Your mind is like a monkey, jumping from branch to branch."

I heard that in every session. It was funny back then, but now I realised how spot-on it was.

So, I closed my eyes and tried again. But this ti, instead of forcing my thoughts away, I focused on my breathing.

Ti passed—how much, I didn't know—but eventually, I managed it. The idle chatter in my mind dulled, all because I focused on a single, steady rhythm: inhale, exhale.

This will help protect my mind only when I know an attack is coming. I won't be able to do this in a fight or under stress. I have to be careful not to be caught off guard.

For a week, I spent every waking mont either reading or ditating. Focusing on my breath was getting easier and easier, and now I could even do it with my eyes open. I had also finished reading Hogwarts: A History, read ahead on potions theory, and learned the incantations to all the first-year charms—though I hadn't practised them.

It's already 31st August.

I was excited—because today, I was getting my wand back.

I went to find my mum.

"Have you packed all your stuff for Hogwarts?"

"Yes, Mum. I already did that this morning. Can I get my wand back now, please? I promise I won't break anything," I said, putting on a face no mother could resist.

Believe it or not, I was my mother's favourite. Then again, I was also her only child, so that wasn't saying much.

"Aww, my baby, I'm going to miss you so much. Promise you'll owl every day."

"Bit excessive, isn't it? I'll write every week."

"My baby boy is already trying to get away from his mother! Co here—give a hug if you want your wand back." She pulled in for a tight hug, practically suffocating .

"Can't breathe—too tight, Ma!"

She finally let go and handed the box with my wand.

"Make sure to co down for dinner on ti. There's sothing special on the nu tonight."

I nodded and ran back to my room.

It was finally ti to shake this stick.

I finally get to release my pent-up magic… wait, that didn't sound PG-13 at all.

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