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Prologue- My Reincarnation can't possibly be this British!?
I swear I'm working on my other fics. The mind just decided Harry Potter stuff for the last few weeks so after running my quest here a few times my brain was like 'Make a fic, do it.' so here we are. Anyway, here's the prologue, I should state the Marauders are actually younger than MC by four years. MC has also been here since he was a baby in the classic rebirth style SI which I haven't actually done before. I'll go over past interactions in the fic mostly in interludes.
Warning, as the author has ADHD and a sleeping condition, fully expect infrequent updates.
A letter. Not one from the alphabet, we're talking the mail kind here, and not just any letter, a rather special letter. One I'd given up on seeing four years ago, deciding to just move along with my second crack at life.
Apparently, I wasn't allowed to by whatever divine or unholy force put me here. The letter I expected four years ago instead drops into my hands now, straight from the sky.
As an owl dropped it.
"Oi, what you got there then, boss?"
"Shut up. Stay quiet. I'm having an existential crisis right now."
"Didja see that? Bloody buzzard or something just dropped that thing right into the boss's hands."
"Wicked that was."
"You're daft, that was a falcon."
"I said shut up, you prats. Let me think. And it was a fucking owl." I need silence, I need to understand why I'm getting this now.
"Did the owl also piss in your breakfast?" I feel my hand clutch the paper in it rather intensely. Deep breaths, they don't know any better. They don't know what this means.
"Piss off. Go bug Manny, you lot."
"You heard em, lads. Boss wants alone time to conto-conta-contemplate that's the one, contemplate owls and whatnot." Sometimes I question my choices in friends. Not a fair thought to have, for all their faults, these guys are loyal. That loyalty I'd normally take as a form of comfort. But for this? No amount of loyalty will be a comfort when actual fucking magic is involved. I wait for the group to fully be out of my sight, their voices fading as they get further away, before I even think about opening the letter.
"Time to bite the bullet." The mutter slips out.
Dear Mr. Royce Morgan,
I would like to personally apologize for such a late acceptance to our school. You should have by all rights received this letter the year you turned 11 years old, and I am chagrined to admit I haven't a clue as to why you did not. I hope you will be able to forgive us for this grave error and oversight.
I know you may take this as an elaborate hoax, so I have decided to personally come and introduce myself to you, and your family on the morrow. I am also happy to inform you that the Minister of Magic Eugenia Jenkins has allowed me to give you a few lessons as a quick catch-up before the start of the term.
Along with that, I have included a copy of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery within this letter. As it will be imperative you follow the law of Magical Britain going forward.
I look forward to meeting you, and very much look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the following years. I know it can be a daunting task catching up to your fellow students, but I have hope you will excel in doing so. I will surely do my utmost to help that happen.
Warm regards,
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster
… Fuck. Just… fuck. My back hits the brick wall behind me and I slide down it to a seat on the concrete. I thought this was just a second chance at my admittedly rather short life. I had even been preparing money to invest in Google and Apple when they rolled around. This? I gave up on this four years ago. Now I know why I didn't get the letter. Whatever force put me here gave me a cheat skill I had no clue about. One that doesn't wake up until the person with it turns fifteen. It has to be, there are no other cases of something specifically like this in all of the Harry Potter series save for that.
Ancient Magic.
A video game thing made canon. I was not prepared for this revelation today. Nor the fact that bloody Dumbledore himself is showing up. That's not even mentioning the other stuff I'd much rather have nothing to do with. A war is on the horizon, and as a Muggleborn I'm fucked on all sides.
Here I was thinking the worst thing to happen to me was becoming a Brit. Gotta think of the silver linings here, magic exists.
Yay… I guess.
"Royce, I'm fine waiting up for your friend here but please just eat something, son." I pause my pacing for a moment, disregard his words, and continue to pace.
"I don't understand what you got yourself into if all this talk about magic and whatnot has you so worried. Is this a late form of childishness?"
"Darling, please don't mention that," Pa says with a wince.
"Look, I don't expect you guys to believe a word of it until he shows up. Sounds rubbish even to me, I look barking mad, that I'm well aware of." I stop my pacing to turn towards my parents in this world. I've never really had much attachment to the pair, and early incidents stopped one from forming, but they're still family.
My mother I have in this world is one of the stereotypical housewives you'd be hard-pressed to find back in my original when I left it. Which, it's understandable here considering I was reborn in 1956. The current year is 1971, so housewives were a lot more common. She took care of me and made sure I went to school and ate. All I could ask for really. It's not her fault I mentally overlap her with the person I'll always appreciate most. By all rights, she makes for a fine mother. Even if she's not very smart, I mostly blame that on the lack of education given to women, something that only really changed some years after I was born.
My father in this world on the other hand… He was kinda a shit father until I took it into my own hands as a nine-year-old. People change, some just need a good kick in the head to start that change… It was more than a kick in the head notwithstanding. He's an engineer, didn't really fight in the war more so helped build the planes back at base. After the war, he opened up a shop originally in Cornwall where he met my Ma, they had the reincarnated me, then moved to Plymouth to open up a bigger shop. Said shop started hitting the red when I was around six, and Pa started drinking. Some people should not drink. Bit funny in a twisted form of fate, considering I used to be a bit of an alcoholic myself. Also a bit ironic both lives I lived started with shit fathers. At least this one's actually doing much better at that now.
At the end of the day, I'd rather they both live through whatever bullshit Tom decides to pull, and I'll personally make sure they do. For now though? Now I pace in agitation as we wait for Dumbledore to arrive.
It's not a long wait from when I start pacing again to when the heavy knock on the door sounds out. I'm the first to react as I'm already standing, immediately moving to let the man in.
Spoiler: dumble
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His eyes don't twinkle. I feel scammed.
"You must be young Mr. Morgan, may I call you Royce?" He asks with a benign smile. At least that stayed from what I know of the man.
"Go ahead, a pleasure to meet you Headmaster Dumbledore." I hold out a hand for the man and he chuckles while taking it.
"The pleasure is mine young man, the pleasure is mine. I must say you are taking this in stride."
"I knew your letter wasn't a joke from the start. I have some questions, but let me introduce you to Ma and Pa first, sir." Yesterday the letter had me flat-footed. Today I came prepared to absolutely abuse every opportunity given to me. I've a surefire way of making myself important even without the whole Ancient Magic thing.
"A wonderful idea." Dumbledore nods and follows me towards the kitchen.
"You must be Dumbledore then, I don't know how you convinced my boy of all this magic business-"
"Just cast a jinx on him or something, Pa won't believe it unless it happens to him." I interrupt my father.
"Dare I say I'm even more surprised if you already know that much," Dumbledore says, not really looking surprised at all. I think he is, he just has this air of being unflappable, like nothing phases him unless it's the most dire of situations.
"Tarantallegra?"
"No, that's much too cruel to start with." Dumbledore chuckles and gently shakes his head. Then he pulls out the wand. A wand only three people in the world currently knew he had, Grindelwald being the last of those three. A bold choice in wands today Dumbles, bold choice indeed.
"Excuse me, Royce I don't take kindly to being interrupted like that."
"Aguamenti?" I ignore him.
"This weather? A cold shower would see him sick." He shakes his head again, the old man is clearly having fun with this.
"Cantis?" I try again as my father's expression turns more downcast and my mother looks on in worry. Dumbledore gives me a look, then his smile gets wider.
"Yes, yes I believe that will do. I'm terribly sorry for this Mister Morgan, but I believe your son when he says this is the best way for you to understand magic exists."
"Now look here- " Dumbledore waves his wand and I make sure to remember the exact motion he did it with. "Well the rain's softly falling and the oggy man's no more." My father grips his throat, wide-eyed at what just came out not being the words he clearly wanted to say.
"Bloody marvellous." I may be cackling just a little.
"I can't hear him calling like he used to before, As I pass through the gateway, I heard the sergeant say." Pa finishes the line looking like he just simultaneously swallowed a lemon and saw a ghost.
"Give me just a second Mr Morgan, I can cast the counter," Dumbledore reassures him.
"The big boys are coming now, see their stand across- what in God's name did you do to me?! Oh heavens, I have my voice."
"Dear, what happened?!" Mum asks, still terribly confused. Pa just looks back up at Dumbledore and takes a step back. Now I'm sure he believes me, he's a cautious and sceptical man by nature, if you don't hit him upside the head with something he'll never give it a chance.
"I do apologize again, Mr Morgan, I mean no ill intent. My wish is only you can understand the power your son is soon to wield." Dumbledore says rather subdued, Pa straightens his back up, shoulders squared.
"Right, I didn't like that but my boy knows me. Knows I wouldn't believe a word of it otherwise." He gives me a look and I meet his eyes. "Smart lad, always has been. Hope you don't blame me for being weary about all this."
"It's just common sense, innit Pa?" I walk over and nudge his shoulder. He relaxes some at that.
"Suppose it is. Well Mister Dumbledore, forgive my rudeness from earlier. Please never do that again." Dumbledore chuckles at Dad's earnestness.
"Perish the thought, and you've done no wrong to me Mr Morgan, you've done the world a great service even by giving it such a knowledgeable son." Pa puffs his chest up and I find myself rolling my eyes.
"You're still shite at singing."
"Royce, language," Ma says as Pa scowls at me.
"I personally believe it was a wonderful performance." Dumbledore claps. Pa just looks bemused at this point, in a much better mood now that I've lightened it some. "I won't take too much more of your time tonight, but I would like to drop by the following weeks before term to help young Royce catch up some. We can go shopping for his supplies tomorrow morning as well if you would like."
"It's fine Headmaster, I'll not bug Ma and Pa here, I'll stay in a room at the Cauldron after me and you grab my school stuff tomorrow." No way in hell am I letting my parents get anywhere near the magical side of this world when fucking Voldemort is active.
"You know a startling amount, my boy, I feel this will be addressed with the questions you have for me?" Dumbledore asks, putting a hand to his bearded chin. I nod in response. "Well, I am perfectly fine with such an arrangement, but that is not for me or you to decide." He looks at my parents, both of whom give me a rather conflicted look.
"Royce… Has always been a bit independent." Pa looks off to the side for a moment, before turning to me and looking me in the eyes. "Whatever he thinks is best, let him do it."
"He's very mature for his age." Ma chimes in.
"Splendid." Dumbledore claps his hands gently. "I will be off shortly then, I must say it has been a pleasure meeting you all. Royce, you said you would like a word?"
"Yeah, follow me, sir." I give my parents a nod and start heading to my room. It's not a long trip. "Should start with I already know a lot about the wizard side of things, but not really enough."
"I've noticed, and I am oh so curious about how that came to be," Dumbledore asks with his initial smile back in place and a twink- woah the twinkles here. I no longer feel scammed.
"Well, since I was a little kid I've had visions, yeah?"
"Visions?" He tilts his head and I find myself nodding.
"Thought they were hallucinations, honestly, after I didn't get the letter at eleven I just thought I was off in the head." Here we go, it's bullshit time! "It's the future, since I was little I've been seeing the future." Dumbledore is silent at that, and it feels like the room gets quieter even. What I'm saying is only partially bullshit, I do actually know the future as it is. Best way to abuse that information? Have Dumbledore think I'm a seer. So pretend I'm one like Grindelwald, hazy visions of what's to come. I'm probably setting some of his PTSD off with this but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. I almost didn't notice him closing the door behind him after a moment.
"You say you've seen the future? Truly?" He asks with greater intensity than anything else tonight, finally a crack in his calm demeanour.
"That I have sir, I've seen a great many things, hazy as they are I've had these visions for years so I'm fairly confident I know what they are," I explain with a nod. "I also know just like my Pa, you'll need proof of it." He must notice the look in my eyes at that because he closes his eyes for a moment then runs a hand down his blue robes.
"Give me a moment to prepare, I'm not sure I'm ready for whatever you are going to say." I stay silent as he takes some time. "Very well, I've prepared my mind. Proceed young Mister Morgan."
"I know Grindelwald is alive, and where he is." He doesn't flinch, that moment he took seemingly actually helped. Occlumency? Most likely. I need to learn it from him if I can. Just… not the Snape way.
"You saw him? He escapes in the future?" I shake my head with a rather grim expression. I mean, it's hard not to be grim knowing Voldemort's real and I can't just meme him away.
"The new Dark Lord kills him while looking for your wand." Whoops, that wand part slipped in. Should fix that. "I should say I've no interest in the Elder Wand sir, or any of the Hallows save for borrowing the cloak. Anyone who uses the other two has a rather dire fate in store." Except for Harry… Well, Cursed Child exists… My new mission in life is to prevent that from ever being canon.
"I feel I would have believed you with far less than that, Mister Morgan." Dumbledore gives me a look that has me squirming a little.
"Probably, but like, dramatic impact… yaknow?" I will forever hold on to the fact I'm probably one of the only people to make Albus Dumbledore give a deep, and exasperated, sigh.
"I feel we will have a lot to talk about when we catch up with your studies." He says neutrally after a moment.
"Yeah, gotta plot out how to beat the piss outta this new Dark Lord. Wanker hexed his name otherwise I'd be making fun of him more."
Make that the only person to make Albus Dumbledore sigh twice in one conversation.
Break Dumbledore speedrun lets gooo. And I apologize for everyone being British. I know it's cursed.