Alan had noticed that the re weight of the objects he manipulated didn't leave him feeling particularly drained. As soone who spent a great deal of ti training his body, he knew this was a plateau. It was like building muscle; if you don't feel the burn or the fatigue, you aren't training hard enough.
Consequently, Alan adjusted his regin. He shifted his focus from raw weight to endurance—delayed training. He used his superpower to keep an object suspended in the air for as long as possible.
This approach yielded results. Initially, persisting for more than five minutes made him feel lightheaded and dizzy. He didn't dare push into overload training without fully understanding the nature of this ability, so he always stopped just short of his limit.
However, after discovering that a day of rest cleared any ntal strain, he felt confident enough to set aside ti for training every evening. Through years of consistency, the duration Alan could maintain his focus grew steadily. After more than a year of this specific practice, he could now keep objects suspended for nearly forty minutes.
Alan manipulated a dumbbell, making it spin and orbit him like a planet around a sun. He practiced constant changes to its flight path—sotis tracing a figure-eight, other tis darting up and down with sudden bursts of speed.
Eventually, a familiar ntal fatigue set in. Knowing his limit was approaching, he maneuvered the dumbbell back to its rack. He stretched his limbs and thought, "It's getting easier and easier to control. I wonder when I'll be able to fly on a sword like those cultivators in the novels."
Little did Alan know that while he was lost in thought, a magic school in northern England was dispatching owls with admission notices. One of those owls was currently heading toward the Elms Church Orphanage in London.
At 6:00 AM the next morning, while most of the orphanage was still asleep, Alan opened his window and took a deep breath of the crisp air. He changed into his gear and made his way to the yard. After a brief warm-up, he began a set of Tongbei Quan, his movents fluid and precise.
"Phew..." Alan exhaled a long, steady breath. Lightly sweating, he stretched his muscles before walking toward the dining hall.
"Good morning, Sister Therese. I could sll the pumpkin porridge from across the yard," Alan said with a smile, greeting the nun who was busy preparing breakfast.
"Good morning, Alan. Back from your exercises, I see. You wake up so early every day," Sister Therese replied warmly, ladling a generous portion into a bowl for him. "If the other children were half as disciplined as you, I would have far less to worry about."
Alan took the bowl with a grin but didn't offer a reply. He wouldn't dare. If the soul inhabiting this body wasn't that of an adult, he might have been even more of a handful than the others.
He finished his breakfast quickly, thanked the Sister, and returned to his room.
As soon as he stepped inside, Alan sensed sothing was different. A brown owl was currently busy on his desk. It wasn't making a ss; rather, it was skillfully detaching a letter from its leg. Once the envelope was placed on the desk, the owl hopped to the windowsill and watched him with an expectant, unblinking gaze.
Alan watched the bird, feeling the atmosphere shift. He closed the door, walked to the desk, and picked up the envelope. There was no stamp. Instead, a line was written in erald-green ink:
Mr. Alan Wilson, Elms Church Orphanage, Shaftesbury Avenue.
Flipping it over, he saw a wax seal bearing a shield crest. A capital "H" sat in the center, surrounded by a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake.
"Why would soone send such a strange letter?" Alan wondered as he broke the seal.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Supre Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, First Class Sorcerer of the Order of rlin)
Dear Mr. Wilson,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipnt. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress.
Alan scanned the second page, which listed the requirents: plain work robes, pointed hats, dragonhide gloves...
"Wait... is this the world of Harry Potter?" Alan stared at the parchnt in disbelief. He had never imagined he was in a magical world; even after his powers awakened, he had simply assud it was so kind of psychic ability.
He frowned as the realization sank in. The problem was, he had never actually read the Harry Potter books in his previous life. His mories of that life were sowhat hazy—the typical side effect of reincarnation—and he had only seen bits and pieces of the movies. His knowledge of the series was minimal. He seed to recall a friend ntioned the story took place in the nineties.
But the current year was 1980.
Alan racked his brain, managing to recall nas like Dumbledore, Harry Potter, and Voldemort. He knew it was a world where people used sticks to cast spells, but he knew next to nothing about the actual plot. Regardless, it seed he was in a different era than the one Harry Potter belonged to.
"Well, I thought I had a unique superpower. It turns out I'm just another wizard," Alan thought, a bit speechless. Being an adult soul, however, he took a few deep breaths and forced himself to stay calm.
He finished reading the letter, rubbed his chin, and looked at the owl. "You're waiting for a reply, aren't you? Unfortunately, I don't have anything to give you for your trouble."
The owl continued to stare at him with its flat, unblinking eyes.
"Alright, I'll write it now." Alan shrugged, picked up a pen, and began to draft a response. He expressed his eagerness to attend Hogwarts but added quite truthfully that he had never had contact with the magical world. He ntioned his status as an orphan and asked if the school could provide any assistance or guidance for a student in his position.
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