1 Well, that's a surprise.

1925: London.

Rebirth. Such an amazing concept.

It has been mentioned in almost every religion, and language alive. Punarjanm in Hindi, Marathi, Sanskrit, and a few other Indian Languages, Reincarnation in English, and Isekai in weeb.

But until recently, it was just that. A concept. With no proof, only speculations, and a lot of fantasies. Humans are.. weird.

What happened recently, you ask? Recently, I went to sleep as a 24 year old Indian man, and woke up as a 5 year old British kid. In 1924, London.

Well, I screamed a lot when I first woke up, and went to scratch my balls to find my dick an inch long, with the balls up my groin. It was.. a weird feeling.

But then, I got the memories of the body's previous owner. Mason Aves.

An Orphan living in the Stockwell Orphanage, for boys and girls, Mason was a quiet kid. He used to stay alone, and either read books, or play with his toy soldiers. His father was unknown, while his mother's name was Marigold Aves.

Marigold Aves, was a woman who came from nothing, raised in the same orphanage as him. She was brought there as a babe, by her father, who claimed he did not want to raise her.

The older caretakers would tell him stories of her, to keep him at least a little bit social, and it worked. Mason began to listen to his mother's stories, and he began to love her image.

Marigold went on to go to a finishing school, and became a nurse, to help out during the Great War. And then, after the war ended, she came back to the Orphanage, to take care of the young, like her caretakers took care of her.

Unfortunately, the good things ended there.

Marigold came home one day, crying, and then 9 months later, she died, giving birth to Mason. 28th of August, 1919, was the day Marigold Aves died, while giving birth to Mason Lucas Aves.

Mason did not realize what exactly happened, but I did. Marigold was either raped, or manipulated into having sex with someone she did not like, and I don't know which was worse.

And here begins the story of Mason Lucas Aves. He listened to his mother's stories, and decided to become like her. While he couldn't become a nurse like his mother was, he decided he needed to care for people. So he did it, in his own way.

He read stories for the babes, he played with those younger than him, saved them from the older bullies, or at least tried to, and got beat up by them. He was still a lonely boy, though.

The kids, while playing with him readily, were also quick to push him aside while talking amongst each other. They just.. didn't connect, while talking. So he kept on reading the same story books, again and again. Hoping for friends, but getting only acquaintances.

But he never gave up on trying to become like his mother. It was after one such beating, when Sister Agnes patched him up, he decided he wanted to become a doctor.

Unfortunately, he almost failed to live to see that day.

It was about a year ago when it happened. Mason was reading, sitting under the tree, while the older kids were playing football in the playing ground. Unfortunately, it was not his lucky day.

The football, kicked by a 13 year old boy, managed to swing through the air, and smack Mason right in the forehead. That wasn't it, though. Thanks to the fact that Mason was only barely 5, and that he was sitting leaning on the tree, the back of his head smacked to the knot of the tree, right behind him.

He was unconscious for 2 days, after which, he woke up with a headache. The headache persisted for a few days, until now.

When I woke up, with his memories added. If I'm actually the British Mason, or the Indian Rahul, I don't know. I just know that I have memories of having lived through both of those lives, with the same intensity in both of them.

It's not like I know for a fact that I, THE ME, am Rahul with Mason's memories, or that I'm definitely Mason with Rahul's memories. But it is one of those two.

Fuck it, I'd rather be both, than just one of them.

Rahul's story is boring, not even a bit exciting. He was 24, had completed his Master's in Physics, but was waiting on the results, which were delayed because of a virus called Covid-19. So, yup, he was jobless. (A/N: THAT'S ME!!!)

He had a satisfactory relationship with his family, while his friends would only occasionally talk. Frankly, he was a loner too. But that was by choice. He did not like people, least of all those that spoke at him.

So, yeah. Rahul died. Mason died. And now I'm here. Both, yet none.

This year that I've been here, I've been living my life as I usually would. I played with the children, and even joined those my age in playing catch a bit. I helped out the Sisters, with cleaning dishes, making beds, and just generally helped around. And I also read stories, and talked with the babies.

Sure, living in 1924 London was not my ideal place to be reborn in, but I could manage. I had a Master's degree in Physics! Granted I failed 9 out of 16 subjects the first time, but still! I was going to pass this time, I know that!

So, yes. My reading level drastically improved. From nursery rhymes, I switched to small poem books, just so my jump is not too high, and unnatural. Then, I read Agatha Christie, the Man in the Brown suit, which had just come out, and I did like Detective Novels.

Thank God, for Orphanage Library. It was always being refilled, and new books added to it, once they get in the market.

Although, their single quotes did piss me off at first, I got used to it. While Indians, like normal people, use double quotes for dialogue, and single quotes for thoughts, and quote within quotes, the British are opposite. They use single for dialogue, and double for thoughts! Preposterous!

And I'm sounding like a Posh British person. Ahem, moving on. I got used to that shit soon enough.

From that, I moved on to other Agatha Christie books, which prompted me to "He's smart." From "He's cute." Then, I began reading Sherlock Holmes books, which were decidedly more entertaining than Agatha Christie, but don't tell her that.

Anyway, I spent my year reading many such fictional books, all the while assuming I was in my own world, in Rahul's own past, preparing to take over the world with my Scientific innovations.

Boy was I wrong.

~~Food! That rat looks very tasty. I think it'll keep me full for days! That's it, stay there!~~

I hear a raspy voice, on the morning of my sixth birthday, and I turn to it, listening wide eyed, to the one sided dialogue, happening a couple feet left of me.

The dialogue carried by a snake, which was about to eat a small rat. To be fair, the snake was barely a foot long, so it might just fill it up for a few days. BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT!

I CAN HEAR THE SNAKE TALKING! AND I CAN UNDERSTAND IT?!

~~Oh, shit.~~ I whispered, still looking at the snake, who was now constricting the rat, after biting in it's neck.

The snake snaps it's head towards me, and drops the still alive rat. It slithers towards me, making me crawl back towards the tree, and says, ~~A SPEAKER! I so, so wished to meet one of your kind, when that weird snake told me about speakers! Nice to meet you, Speaker!~~

"Oh, shit." I whisper, again, looking at the honest to God, excited snake, which was talking to me, from the ground a foot away from me.

This cannot be happening. THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING! How the fuck? I thought it was just past! But no, it had to be the Harry Potter past! FUCK! Okay, calm yourself, and reply to the still talking snake.

~~...er! SPEAKER! Can you understand me? Maybe he's not a speaker after all. Well, better get out of here before he kills me~~ the snake says, and turns it's back to me, moving to go towards the suffering rat.

~~WAIT!~~ I whisper-shout, pointing my hand towards the snake, who immediately stops.

~~AH-HAH! So you are a speaker?~~The snake says, straightening up, and slithering back towards me. It raises it's head, and continues, ~~Did you not want to talk with me, Speaker? Is it because I'm young? No wait. It's because I'm black, isn't it? I knew it. That weird snake did say lighter humans don't like darker skins. I should have expected it applies to snakes too.~~

~~By God, do you ever shut up?~~ I finally say, stopping it's racism rant. Buddy, I'm from 2020, India. I'm already woke.

Shaking my head, I point towards the still barely alive poisoned rat, and say, ~~Finish your food, and then come here. We'll talk then.~~

The snake nods, and goes towards the rat, thankfully, silently.

Talking snake. Speaker. Parseltongue. Harry Potter. 1924! Holy shit, I was related to Voldemort! He could talk to snakes too!

Damnit, my memories! They're not as good as they used to be! What was that thing, they used to do with their minds? Occlude-mency? Occlumency! That's it! I need to learn that! ASAP!

Maybe that'll help me write some of the books I'd read as Rahul, and even "discover" some new knowledge.

The snake finished it's eating, more like swallowing, within the minute I was overthinking, and trying not to be overwhelmed, and came and flicked it's tongue, licking the back of my hand.

I snap out of it, and pull my hand away. ~~Can you not, do that?~~ I ask, snapping at the snake.

The snake tilts it's head, and says, ~~You were dreaming. The others wake me up when I'm dreaming. I did too! Now, are we talking, or what?~~

I look at it in suspicion, and ask, ~~You're a weird snake, aren't you?~~

~~I'm a smart snake!~~ it corrects me. It says, ~~No other snake, other than the weird one that visits us sometimes, can talk as much as I can! I'm Magical, he said!~~

Again with that weird snake. I shake my head, and look around. No one was there in the ground, and it was still too early for the kids to come out to play.

I lay my hand down, and say, ~~Climb up, and hide near my stomach. We'll talk once we're inside.~~

It looks at me hand weirdly, and says, ~~You're one of those Perverts, aren't you?~~

~~FOR FUCK'S SAKE! JUST GET IN! I'M 6 YEARS OLD YOU DUMB SNAKE, AND PERVERTS ARE USUALLY OLDER~~ I shout, slapping my hand down, hard enough to make it hurt.

~~Usually! You just said, Usually! And that's not the kind of language I expect from a baby human.~~ the snake says, but still goes up my arm, and inside my shirt.

I stay silent, ignoring the talkative snake, and get up, walking towards my room.

Thank God for orphanage hand me down clothes. Or hiding the snake wouldn't have been possible.

Let's interrogate the snake now, and see what he knows. Maybe I'm just going crazy, and there's no wizards here. Hope so that they are, though.

~~~

A/N: Okay, hey guys! This is an idea I just had, and I just had to write it down! I have way too much time on my hands.

Anyway, the MC, which is me, is reborn as Mason Lucas Aves. Mason's birthday is 28th August, 1919, which is about 7 years before Tom Riddle. He'll join Hogwarts on 1st September, 1930, which is 8 years before Tom Riddle, so there'll be no contact between them.

Literally each and every character in the story, at least in the beginning, will be OCs, except for the teachers, and a few well known families. Pairing is almost decided, but I'd still like to wait until the story gets there to announce.

MC won't prevent Voldemort, but he'll take advantage of it. Which side he'll be on? I think you already know.

Anyway, you might have already guessed who his Father is, given there's only two options, and one of them is old. His mother is simply a Nun, orphaned at birth by her father abandoning her.

No secret back story at all, no sir. Nope. I'm not telling and you can't make me!

This story is second priority to me, and the first priority will be my other story, "The Legend of Baldur."

Anyway, Caio!