I felt a nudge in my head, like someone calling out to me to wake up.
I groggily opened my eyes, only to realize something was wrong. This wasn't my body. It felt smaller, lighter. I pushed myself up and sat on the bed, staring at my hands, trying to make sense of it.
Then the pain hit.
A sharp headache surged through my head as foreign memories flooded in all at once. I clutched my head, gritting my teeth as everything forced itself into place.
After a while, the pain dulled enough for me to move. I shakily got up and reached for the glass of water beside my bed, lifting the lid with unsteady hands before taking a sip.
"Damn…"
That had to be the worst headache I've ever had.
Leaning back slightly, I started going through the memories.
William Cross. That was my new name. A nine-year-old orphan living in Hartwell Children's Home.
From what I could tell, the previous owner of this body was quiet and withdrawn, the kind of kid who kept to himself and got picked on when no one was watching. The staff didn't care enough to notice, and even if they did, they wouldn't have done much.
Things changed after his magical awakening.
At first, he used it to defend himself, small and subtle tricks to avoid getting hurt. But he was talented. Scarily so. It didn't take long before he started using it more confidently—making people trip, causing objects to fall, even taking things from those who used to bully him.
He didn't become a bully himself, but he made sure no one dared to mess with him again.
Now he had a reputation. The kind that kept everyone at a distance. No one wanted to share a room with him, which explained why I was alone.
Not that I minded.
The orphanage staff did the bare minimum. As long as no one got seriously injured, they ignored everything else.
And honestly… at least this place wasn't run by freaks.
I let out a quiet sigh before another thought crossed my mind.
Why 1967?
That being really couldn't have picked a worse time.
Although technically it was 1976 now, which meant I had two years before Hogwarts. That didn't make things much better. The Dark Lord was still active, and things were only going to get worse before they got better.
The attack on the Potters would happen in 1981, during my third year.
If I was supposed to change the future, then I needed influence, power and a name. Hogwarts would be my starting point. It would give me access to people, institutions, opportunities, and everything I needed.
A yawn escaped me as the lingering headache reminded me I wasn't exactly in top condition.
I should sleep first.
Just as I was about to lie down, I remembered something.
The AI.
Right.
I focused inward. Hey… you there?
A faint blue screen materialized in my vision, much more stable than I expected.
[System Initializing. Integration in progress.]
[Status: Linking with host cognition… stabilizing interface…]
[Complete. Neural integration successful. Cognitive link established.]
[Update: AI integrated with host mental barriers. Passive occlumency support active.]
[Result: Host classified as natural occlumens.]
I let out a slow breath, staring at the screen.
That was… useful. More than useful, actually.
No one getting into my head was already a huge advantage.
I focused again. So I'm the only one who can see this, right?
[Affirmative. Interface exists within host cognition. No external visibility.]
Good.
That made things much easier.
Another yawn escaped me as exhaustion finally caught up.
We'll continue this tomorrow. Wake me up early, following the same routine as before.
[Task registered. Wake schedule aligned with host's prior routine.]
"Good…"
I muttered before lying down.
Sleep came almost instantly.
( Scene Break )
The AI woke me up at 7:00 AM as I had asked, and I followed the daily routine of my previous self—going to school, returning to the orphanage, and helping with cleaning, which was mandatory for all residents except the staff. Their job was simply to supervise us and make sure we did things properly.
After we were done cleaning, the older orphans helped with dinner, while the rest of us, including me, were free to either play in the lawn or stay in our rooms. I told Mrs. Stacy that I'd be in my room before heading upstairs.
Once inside, I locked the door, sat on a chair, and summoned the AI.
"Do you have a name?"
[Negative.]
"Any preference?"
[None.]
"Alright, then your name will be Cortana from now on."
[Name Registered.]
"Good. Now tell me about your functions."
[Cortana can assist the host in storing knowledge, analyzing it, and deriving conclusions based on the host's instructions. It has merged with the host's cognition and is now part of the host's mental barriers.]
[Additional Function: Data transfer to host cognition, allowing direct recall and enhanced visualization of knowledge, spells, and scenarios.]
That sounded useful enough.
"Alright, I'm going to run a test. Record everything."
[Recording initialized.]
I stretched out my hand and focused on the empty glass on the bedside table. It lifted into the air and hovered for a few seconds before flying toward me, and I caught it easily.
Next, I tried the pillow. It wasn't difficult either—it came to me with surprising ease. Encouraged, I decided to push further and attempted to levitate multiple objects at once.
Two pillows, the glass, and a worn-out doll.
This time, things weren't as smooth. Simply keeping them afloat was already difficult. My control wavered as I felt a strain building in my head, growing worse the longer I maintained it.
Eventually, I lost focus and let everything drop.
"Huff… Huff…"
That definitely had a limit.
"Did you record everything, Cortana?"
[Affirmative.]
"Good. Now tell me, what exactly is magic here? Am I using some kind of internal energy, or is it something else?"
[No detectable evidence of a defined energy source.]
[Observation: Host cognition experiences strain during sustained or complex spell usage.]
[Conclusion: Insufficient data. Further testing required.]
So no clear "mana" system.
"Alright, I'll try again. Keep recording."
[Recording ongoing.]
This time, I limited myself to two objects. Lifting them was easy, but after holding them in place for about a minute, the same pressure returned, slowly building until it became uncomfortable.
I dropped them again.
[Analysis update.]
[No evidence of a measurable energy reservoir.]
[Confirmed variables: Willpower, intent, and cognitive load.]
[Observation: Increased object count or duration results in instability.]
[Cause: Host cognition unable to sustain control beyond threshold.]
[Result: Spell failure and mental strain.]
That lined up perfectly with what I felt.
[Advisory: Host should cease activity.]
[Reason: Continued strain may result in cognitive damage.]
[Recommendation: Rest and resume training later.]
"Yeah… that makes sense."
Before stopping completely, I decided to check something else.
"Can you measure my stats? My physique and… soul, I guess?"
[Function available.]
[Limitation: Unable to divide attributes into sub-categories.]
[Capability: Overall state may be quantified as a single value.]
[Progress tracking supported.]
[Proceed?]
"Go ahead."
[Scanning…]
I stood up as it began.
No point sitting around.
Unlocking the door, I headed downstairs to help with cleaning like usual.