Magic!!

"Wakey wakey!"

A melodious and happy voice called out as the matron banged two cooking lids together.

Altair groaned.

"Do you really need to do this every single time Mari?" He said with annoyance.

She only smiled at the question.

"Of course, how else would i wake you from your so called 'eternal slumber?'" She said jokingly.

"Now, get up the other children have already woken up and are downstairs eating your the only one left. Chop chop!"

She said cheerfully as she walked out the door, closing it as she left.

Altair yawned, got up from his bed and washed himself before putting on his clothes.

He wore a simple black sleeve shirt, with a pair of shorts and sandals.

An odd combination of clothes in a country thats usually cold.

But he was as odd as it got.

Altair chuckled a bit, before walking up to the rubber ball.

He grinned as he looked at the once pristine flawless ball, now looking like someone dipped it in molten lava.

…

Yesterday.

It was freezing, and even the indoor heaters did nothing to ward off the chill.

Altair sat down, glaring at the ball that had been tormenting him for years. The yellow rubber ball had no blemishes or damage. It was a ball he had decided to use for his magical training.

Yeah, magic.

The first thing he suspected when he realized he'd transmigrated back in time—way, waaay before he was born—was that he was in one of his favorite franchises of all time: Harry Potter.

He had watched all the movies and read some of the books, but what had truly made him obsessed with the world was the fanfics!

Not the stupid pairing ones—those were trash. No, he liked the ones that delved into the supernatural aspect of the books.

Magic!

Altair had spent days silently observing the other kids in the orphanage. At first glance, they seemed normal. No one flew on brooms or brandished wands. No one whispered about "You-Know-Who" or the Ministry of Magic. But subtle things kept nagging at him.

"London," he had overheard one of the older kids saying one day. It sent a jolt through him.

"London?" Altair had asked casually, as if he were just making conversation.

"Yeah, where else would we be?" the kid had responded, looking at him like he was an idiot.

London. That was a start, The Leaky cauldron was in London.

Over the following days, Altair had snuck into the matron's office whenever she wasn't around. 

Although he felt it was stupid, where else would he look?

He searched through old records, hoping to find some mention of magical letters or something magical.

But so far, he'd found nothing. It frustrated him to no end. The lack of evidence made him feel like he was chasing shadows.

Then, while helping the matron with groceries one day, something happened.

They had gone to a nearby market, and while the matron haggled over prices, Altair wandered off to explore a side street. It was a quiet, narrow lane lined with old shops and a few pedestrians. That's when he saw something strange.

A man in an odd-looking cloak stood by a corner, glancing around nervously. At first, Altair thought he was just an eccentric loony or maybe homeless. But then the man reached into his cloak and pulled out what looked like a small stick—a fucking wand.

Altair froze, his breath catching in his throat.

The man looked around, making sure no one was watching. But he hadn't noticed Altair, who was hiding behind a nearby lamppost, his eyes wide as saucers.

The man raised his wand, and with a quick flick and muttering something quietly, made a heavy crate hover into the air. The crate floated effortlessly and moved to the side of the street, revealing a passage as it gently landed in front of a shop door.

Altair's jaw dropped.

His breathing quickened.

Magic.

It wasn't a trick. It wasn't sleight of hand or some street performer shit. The man had used real magic. Real MOTHER FUCKING magic.

Just like in the movies. No—just like in the books! SHIT!

His heart pounded in his chest as he ducked further behind the lamppost, trying not to be seen.

The man quickly tucked his wand away, took one step forward, and then—

He vanished.

Apparition! Altair's mind screamed. He had just seen the man apparate!

He stood there, stunned, feeling like a dead fish out of water. All those ridiculous experiments he had done—none of them had worked. But now... magic was real.

He had hoped, he had wanted it to be real. But how could he, someone from a world without magic, truly believe in it?

Maybe that was why his wandless magic training had always failed. Was he a Muggle? Was he just not talented enough?

No he just didn't believe in his superstitious thoughts.

But now, NOW, For the first time, he felt his understanding of the world shift. Magic was real, and these bubbling emotions inside him proved it. He wasn't crazy.

It was real. It was fucking real.

When he and the matron, Ms. Maria—or Mari, as he liked to call her—returned to the orphanage, Altair practically ran up to his bedroom.

All his pent-up frustration, hope, belief, and fear swirled inside him as he looked at the pristine yellow rubber ball.

And with a shout, he unleashed his fury.

"FUCK YOU!!"

—BOOM!!!

The yellow ball disintegrated on the spot, the floor beneath it charred, and the windows shattered outward with a deafening crack. Shards of glass rained down like a miniature storm, the noise echoing through the orphanage as some children screamed from the noise.

Altair blinked, his breath caught in his throat as he surveyed the destruction around him. His hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Did he... Did he just do that?

Holy shit.

A mix of excitement surged through him. 

He looked down at his hands, half-expecting to see them glowing or something, but they were just his hands—completely normal, slightly sweaty, hands. Yet he had felt it. That raw burst of energy. The surge of power that had radiated from deep within him and obliterated the rubber ball.

He took a shaky breath, his mind racing.

"hahahahah.. AHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHA FUCK YESSS HAHAHHAHAHA"

He laughed like a loon!

He laughed so hard he fell down to the floor.

He laughed so hard everyone could hear him.

But he didn't care.

That was magic. His magic.

Real FUCKING magic!

He confirmed it, he felt it AND FUCKING TRIED IT

The tears streaming down his eyes that lacked color.

Once again…

Took on a vibrant hue.

Chapter end