I continued with my daily practice while keeping myself at the top of the class. It helped keep the teachers off my back. They were surprised by my sudden improvement in academics, but instead of questioning it too much, they were just glad I was finally taking things seriously.
That worked in my favor.
Life at the orphanage, on the other hand, remained as dull and miserable as ever. Couples came by occasionally to adopt children, but I never considered it.
I didn't want to replace my father from my previous life, and more importantly, I didn't want to take away the chance of a child here finding a proper home.
Besides, I'd be leaving for Hogwarts in a year.
Getting adopted now would just complicate things.
That said, a new problem had come up.
Summer holidays.
A whole month of free time.
Normally, that would've been great. Now, it was just inconvenient.
I had already pushed my control over levitation far enough that continuing to practice inside my room risked damaging something. At this point, I could maintain levitation on almost every object in the room for over three minutes—excluding the bed and cupboard, of course.
With Cortana's assistance, that went past five minutes.
I had hit a plateau.
There was only so much I could do without things going wrong.
Letting out a quiet sigh, I called for my status panel to check my progress.
[Host: William Cross (Wizard) | Age: 10
Status: Malnourished | Physique: 1.1 | Spirit: 2]
My gaze lingered on the "Spirit" value.
Magic really did feel similar to something like the The Force. The more I used it, the more that aspect of me seemed to grow.
Thinking back to the movies, wandless magic was barely explored. The only thing made clear was that it required exceptional skill. Yet even before entering the wizarding world, Tom Riddle had already been capable of it.
Which said a lot.
Based on everything I'd experienced so far, magic didn't feel like a resource.
It felt like control.
The ability to impose one's will onto reality.
Anyone could improve with practice, but talent still mattered. Some people were simply born ahead of others. Voldemort and Dumbledore were obvious examples, standing far above most witches and wizards.
Even Harry Potter had moments where his spells carried far more force than his peers, especially in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Hermione might have been more knowledgeable, but raw output wasn't always about knowledge.
That, too, seemed like talent.
Something innate.
Something I needed to understand better.
Shaking the thought off, I decided to practice something different and walked over to the open window. Resting my arms on the frame, I looked out at the orphanage lawn. Two trees stood there, their leaves scattered across the ground along with a few dry branches.
Perfect.
I focused on the leaves, trying to lift them.
One… two… three… four.
They rose without much difficulty.
Not enough.
I tightened my focus and arranged them into a square, holding the shape steady for a moment before pushing further, trying to move each leaf in a different direction.
That's where it started to fall apart.
My control slipped, and the leaves dropped back onto the ground.
I exhaled quietly.
Still not enough control.
But at least now, I knew what to work on.
[ 4th July 1978 ]
[Host: William Cross (Wizard) | Age: 11
Status: Malnourished | Physique: 1.3 | Spirit: 3.4]
I looked at my status panel for a moment before pulling a chair toward the window and sitting down, my eyes fixed outside as I waited.
My Hogwarts letter.
Finally.
A small grin formed on my face.
The past year had gone by faster than I expected, and somehow, I hadn't died of boredom. I had even managed to develop my own variation of the Lumos charm—one that doubled as a source of warmth during winter.
Not bad for a year's work.
I had been sitting here since 6 AM, skipping breakfast entirely, and now it was almost 11.
Still no sign.
Knock. Knock.
"William, you have a visitor. Come downstairs with me."
I let out a quiet sigh as I heard Ms. Stewart's voice through the door.
Hopefully not another couple.
That had become far too common lately. Most families preferred adopting older children, and now that I was eleven, the orphanage staff seemed more eager than ever to place me somewhere before it was "too late."
Not that I blamed them.
They were doing their job.
I just wasn't interested.
I got up and followed her downstairs. The moment I saw the person waiting, my eyes widened slightly.
So it begins.
[Scene Change]
Minerva McGonagall had been teaching at Hogwarts for over two decades and had visited countless Muggle homes during her tenure.
Wealthy families. Modest households. Even the occasional aristocratic estate.
But never an orphanage.
She paused briefly at the entrance, adjusting her robes before ringing the doorbell. A moment later, a woman in her forties opened the door, her eyes immediately scanning McGonagall's attire.
"Yes?"
"Good afternoon. I am Minerva McGonagall, Professor and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
The woman blinked.
"I am here regarding one of your residents, William Cross. He has been admitted to Hogwarts. Should he choose to attend, all expenses will be covered. As it is a boarding school, he will only return during holidays."
"Hogwarts…?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry, but we don't—"
"I understand this may seem unusual," McGonagall said calmly, producing the letter. "However, this is a legitimate institution. This document confirms his admission."
The woman hesitated, then stepped aside.
"…Please come in. I'll send William down."
A few moments later, the boy entered and he was quite tall for his age.
His eyes widened for just a fraction of a second upon seeing her.
Interesting.
The staff member gave a small nod before leaving them alone.
As he took a seat across from her, McGonagall handed him the letter.
---
[William POV]
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Cross,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We shall send a member of staff to explain the situation to you and your guardians, and escort you to purchase your course materials and uniform.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
---
McGonagall studied me carefully before speaking.
"Have you ever experienced anything… unusual? Events you couldn't explain?"
I nodded slightly, keeping my tone controlled. "Yes. Though I've been able to manage it."
To demonstrate, I focused briefly and summoned the book Ms. Stewart had left on the table.
It slid toward me.
Her eyes widened, though she quickly composed herself.
"You are quite talented," she said. "That was wandless magic, something many adult wizards struggle with."
"Wandless?" I tilted my head slightly, feigning curiosity. "Do all wizards use wands? Or… staffs, like in stories?"
A small smile appeared on her face.
"Staffs are largely a thing of the past, Mr. Cross. Modern wizards use wands."
I nodded, as if taking it in for the first time.
"If magic exists, then why does everyone think it's just fantasy?"
"Because we live in secrecy," she replied. "Under the International Statute of Secrecy. Wizards are forbidden from revealing magic to Muggles, those without magical ability."
I let that sit for a moment before asking, "Could you show me some real magic, Professor?"
She gave a small nod and drew her wand.
With a simple flick, the teacup on the table transformed into a cat. It leapt lightly onto my lap before hopping back onto the table, reverting to its original form.
I stared at it, letting a bit of awe show.
Right on cue.
"Are you willing to attend Hogwarts?" she asked.
I nodded immediately.
"Very well," she said, standing up. "Hold onto me, Mr. Cross. We will be traveling by Apparition. It may be… unpleasant for a first-timer."
I followed her instructions without hesitation.
A moment later, everything twisted.
And when it stopped, I already knew where we were.
Diagon Alley.