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    I woke up before dawn that morning and decided to have a crack at my books. It wasn''t as easy as I''d expected—turns out that having the memories of a grown-up doesn''t mean my brain is grown-up too.

    My underdeveloped eleven-year-old brain wasn''t as sharp as I''d hoped. It had a short attention span, but sheer willpower had to make up for it.

    After four hours of shuffling through pages, I had a better picture of the first-year curriculum.

    "Ben, come on down for breakfast."

    "Coming."

    After breakfast, I decided to try a few charms from the book. I reckoned a levitation charm wouldn''t do any harm. I waved my hand, finger pointed at a piece of paper, and said the incantation very slowly: Nothing happened.

    The second time, I tried saying it a little faster, but still, no result.

    With that thought, I tried again, this time imagining the paper lifting off the ground.

    All the books on my desk went flying, landing all over the room and breaking a few things in the process.

    "Benedict, what are you doing up there?"

    "Umm… nothing, I just dropped my books."

    "You better not break the window again."

    "I won''t, I promise."

    I thought as I started picking up the books from the floor.

    After that, I sat cross-legged on my bed, closed my eyes, and tried to remember the feeling of casting the spell. Yes, I tried meditating.

    For a brief moment, I could feel the flow of magic through my hand. It was a comfortable sensation.

    Like every other transmigrator, my biggest fear in this world was Legilimency. I had far too many secrets to hide, and the thought of someone peering into my mind was terrifying.

    It only made things worse knowing that Hogwarts was full of expert Legilimens. Even the Sorting Hat used Legilimency.

    Even though there was nothing outwardly suspicious about me, I still worried.

    "Dumbledore might not have been a dark wizard, but he was a bloody manipulator. His willingness to sacrifice anyone for the ''greater good'' made him the biggest threat to my safety—or so every fanfiction I''d ever read had led me to believe. Maybe he was actually a chill guy in reality, but I wasn''t about to bet on it."

    Voldemort, on the other hand, could be dealt with—especially by someone like me who knew all his secrets. At the moment, he was nothing more than a parasite. Even after his resurrection, he would only have, at best, a seventh of his soul left—or at worst, a sixty-fourth. Such a fragmented soul couldn''t possibly sustain a sound mind.

    At the same time, my knowledge of this world was a double-edged sword. If Voldemort ever got a glimpse into my thoughts, he''d know everything. If that happened, this world was doomed—with me in it.

    Which meant learning to guard my mind was not just a precaution. It was a necessity.

    So, I started my attempt at Occlumency. I tried emptying my mind, just like Snape had told Harry to do. I didn''t have much success.

    Thoughts kept popping up. The more I tried to think of something, the more my mind latched onto it.

    After failing who-knows-how-many times, I remembered something from my past life.

    Back when I was a kid, my school had weekly meditation sessions in the mornings. I hadn''t followed it much in later years, but I still remembered the teachings.

    I heard that in every session. It was funny back then, but now I realised how spot-on it was.

    So, I closed my eyes and tried again. But this time, instead of forcing my thoughts away, I focused on my breathing.

    Time passed—how much, I didn''t know—but eventually, I managed it. The idle chatter in my mind dulled, all because I focused on a single, steady rhythm: inhale, exhale.

    For a week, I spent every waking moment either reading or meditating. Focusing on my breath was getting easier and easier, and now I could even do it with my eyes open. I had also finished reading , read ahead on potions theory, and learned the incantations to all the first-year charms—though I hadn''t practised them.

    I was excited—because today, I was getting my wand back.

    I went to find my mum.

    "Have you packed all your stuff for Hogwarts?"

    "Yes, Mum. I already did that this morning. Can I get my wand back now, please? I promise I won''t break anything," I said, putting on a face no mother could resist.

    Believe it or not, I was my mother''s favourite. Then again, I was also her only child, so that wasn''t saying much.

    "Aww, my baby, I''m going to miss you so much. Promise me you''ll owl me every day."

    "Bit excessive, isn''t it? I''ll write every week."

    "My baby boy is already trying to get away from his mother! Come here—give me a hug if you want your wand back." She pulled me in for a tight hug, practically suffocating me.

    "Can''t breathe—too tight, Ma!" sea??h thё N?vel(F)ire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She finally let go and handed me the box with my wand.

    "Make sure to come down for dinner on time. There''s something special on the menu tonight."

    I nodded and ran back to my room.

    It was finally time to shake this stick.