Focus; Such an easy thing to do...

September 1977.

New Hope Orphanage, London.

Frustration.

That single word fit Alex's current mood to a T.

He'd just returned to the library after having breakfast with everyone and was currently browsing through the titles of all the books shelved in the library. Every once in a while, he would take out a book, skim through its pages, as if searching for something, and put it back even as his frustration grew with each book he put back.

What was the cause of his frustration?

His supposedly simple plan.

'I've been saying that a lot lately. It better not turn into a catchphrase…'

He observed, his hand skimming through the pages of another book, while his eyes had lost focus and his mind had shifted to the unimportant, untimely observation.

The thought of him acting in a low-budget web series with a simplistic plot, similar to the ones in his last life, and playing the role of the only rational person in the series crossed his mind. He could envision the screen zooming in on him every time he said, 'I have a plan', and depict him giving a confident smirk towards the viewers. Furthermore, if an animated adaptation was made somehow, he could even imagine his character's glinting teeth every time he smirked.

'Ugh… I didn't need that image in my mind…'

He shuddered, returning to his senses.

'Focus dammit… What was I thinking again?'

Ah! Yes. He had decided on playing to his advantages and train in both, the physical and mental aspects of the body. For the physical aspect of his training, his goal was to increase his stamina, mobility, and flexibility, hence, he'd decided on jogging, acrobats, and Yoga respectively.

For the mental aspect of his training, he'd decided on occlumency. Even though he knew nothing concrete about the learning process of the obscure magical mind art, he had just one clue. Severus Snape, in the fifth book, had told Harry to 'clear his mind' while teaching him occlumency. What better way to clear one's mind than meditation? Anything further, he'd to do what humans do: observe, question, experiment, conclude, and incorporate.

He even hoped that occlumency would help him with magic. After all, magic was a mental faculty. Right?

He knew enough basics to start training on both fronts from his last life. In fact, a majority of the population, living in the information age, knew at least something about acrobats, Yoga, and meditation. He would've even started training by now, but couldn't due to a single fact.

He didn't have an alibi for his knowledge.

If his body had matched with his mental age of twenty-five, having that knowledge would've been fine, but he had a body of a five-year-old child, and having that knowledge at his visible age, without any explainable source, would raise many questions. Questions he couldn't answer.

Thus, his requirement for an alibi.

He'd begun his search in the library for that reason, skimming through every book that could possibly become an alibi of his. Apparently, obesity and stress not being recognized as a major issue in the 1970s, and there being no internet, the information that was available about various physical exercises and meditation was rather scarce, especially in a library intended for children. As a result, he was failing to find more than a mention of them in any of the books, which in turn was feeding his frustration.

He bemoaned the complexity of the world. What with people being people, except Sarah of course, poking their nose where it didn't belong. Why couldn't they just let a five-year-old do his thing without asking the bloody questions? Wouldn't such an uncomplicated world, where everybody minded their own business, be a better place?

The fact that he wasn't reincarnated in some cultivation oriented world bothered him for the first time. If that had been the case, his age becoming inconsequential, he could've at least credited all of his unexplained knowledge to some wise old sage teaching him in secret and the supposed sage's desire to remain incognito. If everything he'd read about those cultivation worlds was true, then the people there would've even believed that hogwash, dismissing it as the eccentric behavior of a powerhouse.

But no, he'd to born in a world where almost everybody had at least a little bit of common sense.

He couldn't even try to use that pretext here. Not without getting Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore declared as a persona non grata on the muggle side of the British Isles as one of the consequences.

Even though the thought of getting Dumbledore labeled as a criminal in the muggle world seemed humorously appealing, the other consequence of using that pretext was less so. Sarah was already quite worried about him and knew that he was hiding something from her. If she learned about some old man, sage looking or not, spending 'secret alone time' with her baby boy, her perspective, of course, she would raise hell all over and wouldn't allow him to leave her sight for a single moment after that.

He couldn't allow that to happen.

Having ranted out his frustrations, mentally at least, Alex focused on finding the required information with renewed gusto. After a while, he'd browsed through all the books in the library and didn't find something satisfyingly informative.

'Man, people in those novels sure made it look so easy…'

He sighed, disappointed in his lack of luck. He knew that he wasn't a protagonist, but couldn't the god, or whoever's in charge of this universe, at least bless him with a little bit of luck?

"I guess it's the hard way again…"

He murmured to himself.

'I wonder if that's the reason why those few unlucky protagonists he'd read about seemed to transform into a masochist, placing themselves under supposed soul-wrenching pain again and again, just for a power-up that gets nerfed after a few chapters…'

The thought of him turning into a masochist sent a shiver down his spine. Once again getting his wandering mind to focus, he returned to his previous, more important train of thought.

His 'hard way' didn't cause him any pain for sure, just inconvenience. If he couldn't use his knowledge in front of people, then he'd to do that behind their back. Not behind their back in a physical sense, just where, or rather when they couldn't notice.

For all the other times, like now, for example, he could train using just a pebble.

"Alex, it's time for lunch."

Not now, it seemed.

------------------------------------------------------------x-------------------------------------------------

Alex once again returned to the…

… Could he still call it 'the library'? After all, it'd almost turned into his base of operation by then. All it needed was a fancy office desk, paired along with a comfortable rotating chair, and a secret passageway from behind a shelf to complete the transformation. Should he name it something else?

Nah! Too much of a hassle.

So, he returned to the library, bringing along with him a small pebble that could quite easily fit into his small hands, and could be easily hidden if needed. That little pebble would become his equipment to practice magic.

At least, after he had become able to cast magic, that is.

Alex then made his way to the other side of the door to the library, taking a book along with him, and sat on a bench there with his back towards a wall and his face towards the only entrance. The library was just a large room with book-filled shelves, placed along the walls of the room, and with a single, large, cloth-covered wooden table, similar to the conference tables he'd seen in his last life, placed in the middle of the room, leaving enough space for people to browse through the shelves.

So, the position which Alex had occupied, allowed him the complete, unimpeded view of the library.

As soon as he sat down, he put the book on the table just in front of him, opened a random page, placed one of his hands on a random line on the page, and pretended to read.

His other hand, supported by his elbow placed on his thigh, was placed underneath the table covered with cloth, with his open palm facing towards the tabletop, hidden from the sight of others. On the top of the said palm was the pebble he'd brought with him.

He began focusing on the pebble in his palm. Silently beseeching magic to heed his call, he began to will for it to slowly rise, to levitate in the air, to hover stably above his hand.

'Rise little one, rise, for me, because I will it so. Magic, heed my call and make this little pebble afloat. I command thee… Doesn't that sound a little too chuunibiyo' ish? I surely didn't want it to be this childish. Ah! Speaking of chuunibiyo, I wonder if that anime got another season after my death. It was a pretty good rom-com too. I wonder if it will have its counterpart made in this world…'

Realizing that he was supposed to do something else, he stopped that train of thought and returned to try to make the pebble afloat, preferably staying as serious as possible.

'Rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, rise…Did I just say 'serious' again? I have to make sure that I don't start playing word games. That would be an annoying quirk to have, both for me and others…'

"Damn. Not again…"

He angrily whispered to himself. He did not have time for these stray thoughts. He stopped for a while, took deep breaths, and returned to trying to achieve his agenda.

'Focus, focus, stay calm, and focus… Imagine the pebble lifting little by little, slowly…Will a pebble that small, make a noise loud enough for others to hear if it rose abruptly somehow, and hit the table? I hope it won't be too loud; otherwise, it would be a pain to answer the resulting question…'

Ok. This time it was a valid concern. But still, he didn't have the damn time.

'Focus, you can do it Alex. You have to do it…'

He motivated himself.

-----------------------------------------------------x--------------------------------------------------------

After quite some time…

'I found a love for me~

Darling just dive right in~

And follow my lead~

Well I found a girl beautiful and sweet~

I never knew you were the someone waiting for me~

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love~

Not knowing what it was~

I will not give you up this time~

But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own~

And in your eyes you're holding mine~

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms~

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song~

When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath~

But you heard it, darling, you look perf… wait, wait, just wait a damn moment.

When in god's name did I start singing? And why in the hell did I sing a romantic song? Didn't the situation demanded something like 'Whatever it Takes' by Imagine Dragons? '

He was starting to get frustrated. For f*ck's sake, he didn't even realize when he started singing a song. And a romantic song at that. It wasn't time for romance, it was time for action. So, why the hell did he subconsciously start singing a romantic song? What was he supposed to do being all romantic?

Love Voldemort to death?

He gagged at the thought. That sounded so wrong at so many levels. He would sooner agree to release Grindlewald from his prison in Nurmengard than continue that train of thought. Disgusting as it might be, that thought bought him enough time to calm down.

Instead of trying to do magic again, he rested his head on the book kept in front of him, closed his eyes, and took solace in the silence the empty library offered. When he had rested for some time, he decided to once again start his efforts in casting magic. This time he tried to humor himself, hoping that it would help.

'Let's start again, me. Focus on casting magic. Focus with the same intensity you used to have when you read adult magazines or while watching AVs. Focus…'

It seemed to have worked. He felt something stirring in the air, something that seemed like it was always present around him, and he just didn't know it existed. Something omniscient, something powerful, something…

…magical.

'Speaking of AVs, are they still as easily available now? Not that I need them now, after all, it's still years before I hit puberty… Damn, that is not something I would even want Voldemort to go through again. He is insane enough as of now…'

Finally, he snapped. He banged his head loudly on the table in his anger at himself. He was so close. So close that he could practically feel the thrum of magic in the air. That feeling had been so intoxicating, so welcoming, and oh so powerful that he wanted to drown himself in it. But no, his subconscious had to destroy his chance. After all, when did anything ever go his way?

First, he died of a disease with a fatality rate of a mere 4%. Then, he had reincarnated in the past. When he'd finally began to enjoy his new life, he'd come to know that he'd reincarnate in a fantasy world, right in the middle of a f*cking war. And now, even his own subconscious mind is opposing him.

Why couldn't anything go his way?

Why did it have to be him?

Why?

His face twisted into an angry scowl. He wanted to scream in anger, to destroy something, to set fire to something, anything to release his anger.

During his emotional outburst, he once again experienced that intoxicating feeling he had felt a few minutes ago. Only this time, it seemed a lot closer, almost as if it flowed through him, but it went away as quickly as it came. Alex, even being as intoxicated as he was, still heard the sound of the pebble hitting the table and then falling to the floor.

'Finally…'

He whooped in joy. He almost wanted to start dancing, to express his elation to the world. He had, within 24 hours, performed magic for the second time. And this time, he remembered the feeling too. He just had to figure out doing that without wanting to gut someone. He could do that. And so he tried again.

'Now that I think about it, I was worried for nothing. The sound of the pebble hitting the table wasn't that loud. Perhaps it was because of a small pebble not generating enough momentum to make a wooden table release anything for than a dull sound, or perhaps, the cloth hanging from the sides of the table absorbed the sound, lowering its intensity. After all, the same principle is used in theatres…'

He sighed wearily. He was now getting tired of this shit. He wanted to quit but couldn't out of the necessity of his learning magic. Thus, he decided to try again.

"Alex~. Where are you~? Come out to play with us~"

Maybe not. He just couldn't ignore children. He didn't have it in him to refuse their demands. At least the reasonable ones. He stood up from his place, he put the book back in its place and made his way towards the source of the voice. On his way there he thought,

'Magic is fun, my ass... Also, are highly fluctuating emotions a sign of bipolarity?'