The first thing I truly learned during my training was that mana is a very strange thing.
It doesn't just feel like energy. It feels alive. Not alive in the sense of having thoughts or intentions, but alive in the way something reacts, adapts, follows. Mana seems to want something from witches and wizards, or maybe it wants to help us exist. I'm still not sure which one is true.
In the world of Harry Potter, emotions play a major role in magic. I noticed that quickly. Spells respond better when emotions are involved. The problem is that I don't naturally feel emotions the way magic expects me to.
So I experimented.
Instead of trying to feel, I tried to simulate.
With enough training, I managed to do something simple but very telling. I created a small point of light at the tip of my finger, barely visible, fragile, unstable. When I focused on anger, the light shifted slightly, taking on a faint red tone. When I simulated sadness, it turned blue, a quiet, melancholic shade. When my thoughts became darker, heavier, the color deepened into something almost black, though not truly black, more like a dark silver-blue.
It was fascinating.
Mana responded to intention even when the emotion itself was artificial. It followed me willingly, as if it didn't care whether the feeling was real, only that it existed in some form. I trained like that constantly, usually lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, circulating mana through my body in careful sequences. Strengthening muscles, reinforcing bones, never too much, just enough to matter.
What surprised me was how well my body adapted.
Every time mana passed through me, my body adjusted. Learned. Accepted it. Day after day, control became easier. Movements smoother. Loss smaller. Watching that progress was deeply satisfying.
The second thing I learned was that my sister was strange.
Very strange.
About six months had passed since I arrived in this world, and she didn't behave like a normal child at all. She talked too much. She knew things she shouldn't know. She said things that didn't match her age. After observing her carefully, I reached a conclusion that made more sense than anything else.
She was reincarnated. Like me.
That realization didn't make me angry. It made me curious. Why were there multiple reincarnations here? Why was she my sister? Were there others like us in the world? And if so, how different were they?
I tested what I could.
Her mana wasn't especially strong. In fact, I had already surpassed her. My mana had grown rapidly, now well beyond fifteen hundred, while hers was somewhere between two hundred and three hundred, which seemed normal for her age. She tried to control mana too, but she lacked focus. She was easily distracted, always talking, always moving.
Mostly, she talked to me.
— Little brother, you're so cute.
She pinched my cheeks, talked about random things, jumped from one subject to another without finishing any of them. It was chaotic, unfocused, but genuine.
At some point, a thought settled quietly in my mind.
I need to protect my family.
This world wasn't exactly the Harry Potter I remembered, but I could adapt. My sister was cute in her own way. Energetic. Clearly took after our mother. If I had to guess, she would grow into a beautiful woman. Her behavior reminded me of a term from my previous life, something about being obsessed with cute things. I couldn't remember the exact word, but the idea fit.
Through training, I also learned that mana became easier to control the more familiar you were with it. Mine followed me readily now, almost obedient.
I also learned more about my family.
The security system here worked almost exactly like a political system. Inheritance followed a medieval European structure. As the legitimate male heir, I stood at the center of it, regardless of my age. My mother, despite her overwhelming strength, would eventually be expected to enter a political marriage.
Elizabeth Darkwatch was deeply respected.
Visitors came often. Men from different social circles. Gifts were delivered. Conversations happened behind closed doors. Many of them were strong, but none felt stronger than her.
That intrigued me.
How could she be this powerful? Did she have something special that I didn't know about yet?
I hadn't explored the estate properly, but even while being carried around, I sensed places of interest. The mausoleum, for example, had an enormous concentration of mana, greater even than my mother's. The basement too felt wrong, hidden, unnatural. I doubted most people knew about it. My mother almost certainly did, though she never showed it.
My sister's name was Alice Darkwatch.
Alice was cheerful, energetic, and clearly enjoying her second life. From what I gathered, she had died young before, around sixteen. This time, she had what she always wanted. A large family. A gentle but firm mother. A maid who felt more like an older sister. And a little brother she adored.
She had received a gift as well.
A legendary talent.
Natural Occlumency.
That explained her mental barrier. Her strange calm. The way she talked to herself without fear. She didn't know everything, but she knew enough. Enough to believe that Harry Potter would defeat Voldemort again. Enough to feel safe.
That afternoon, I found myself outside.
A small tea party had been set up in the garden. Alice sat proudly on a tiny chair, pouring imaginary tea into cups for her dolls, completely absorbed in her role. Her happiness was impossible to ignore.
— Do you want some milk tea, Jesse?
She held a tiny cup toward me, smiling brightly.
I hesitated.
I had never been invited to a tea party before. Was this a British thing? I wasn't sure. In the end, I simply smiled.
That was enough.
She let out a delighted squeal.
— He smiled!
Melissa laughed softly.
— The young master is very cute, miss.
Elizabeth joined us soon after, amused by the scene.
— A tea party? How elegant.
She played along effortlessly.
— And what are we drinking today?
— Milk tea, Mama! Alice said proudly.
— How delicious.
Alice laughed, clearly pleased.
Watching them, I realized something quietly important.
Moments like this mattered too.
After Mama spent some time with us at the tea party, Alice felt genuinely happy.
She was excited in a quiet, warm way, sitting there with her dolls and tiny cups, pretending everything was normal, pretending this was something she had always known. This place felt strange, but good. Too good, sometimes.
"I really like it here," she thought."It's so… different."
Before, everything had been silent. Quiet in the worst possible way. The kind of silence that presses against your ears until it hurts.
Some memories slipped into her mind, the ones she never wanted to remember but never truly forgot.
The orphanage.
The long halls. The empty rooms. The woman who ran the place, who smiled in front of visitors and hit children when no one was looking. The sound of other kids crying at night. The way pain became routine.
School wasn't any better. The bullying. The whispers. The laughter behind her back. No matter what she tried, no matter how hard she worked, it never changed. Even the girl she liked, the one who said she liked her back, had only been lying. It was a joke. A cruel one. A setup meant to humiliate her.
She remembered everything.
That was why moments like this mattered so much.
She remembered the first time she had ever read about this world. She had been hiding in a library after running away from the bullies again, wandering between shelves without really looking, until she accidentally knocked several books down. One of them landed right in front of her.
Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.
She didn't know why, but something pulled at her. A strange feeling, like the book was calling her. She picked it up and started reading.
And just like that, the world opened.
Magic. Friendshipe. Hogwarts. A place where being strange wasn't a flaw. A place where power didn't come from cruelty, but from talent and effort. She devoured everything after that. Books, anime, series, anything that made the world feel bigger than the one she lived in.
Her way of speaking changed. She talked too much. Thought too much. Tried to build her own mindset, her own identity. She thought she was smart. Maybe she wasn't that smart. But she was kind. She wanted people to be happy.
That world embraced her.
Until the day it ended.
She remembered walking home from school when she saw a little girl run into the street after a ball. A truck was coming, horn blaring. The child froze.
Alice didn't think.
She ran.
She pushed the girl away just in time.
The impact came next.
It was fast. Loud. Empty.
She remembered the girl crying, calling for her mother. She remembered the woman running, screaming, calling for help, dialing an ambulance that would never matter. Alice already knew. Even before the pain faded, she knew there was no chance.
She died there.
It was a stupid, simple death. The kind people later call heroic because it makes them feel better about it.
She was sad. Terrified. But also… relieved. She had saved someone.
And then, she was given another chance.
A god spoke to her. Explained things. Told her this world was different. Bigger. Expanded. A version of Harry Potter that went further than the books ever had.
She was reborn.
Not alone.
This time, she had a family.
A mother who was gentle but firm. A maid who felt like an older sister. And now, a little brother who stared at the world far too seriously for a baby.
Alice looked at Jesse, sitting quietly beside her.
"He's really cute," she thought, smiling. "And kind of scary."
She didn't understand why he felt so strange sometimes, why being near him made the air feel different, heavier, but she didn't mind. For the first time in her life, she wasn't afraid of losing everything overnight.
She had something to protect now.
And she would do everything she could to keep it that way.
Even as time passed, one month, two, three, I kept training. Mana continued to fascinate me. It was power. It was alive. It was rooted deeply in this world.
By the time three years had passed, I was certain of one thing.
This life would not be boring.
And I intended to survive it.