So, the life energy will go first, it's decided. Plus, it will help prepare the body for other energies and magic in general. But the rest - here the question is open. The thing is that the presence of energy does not make me super-capable or super-strong. The presence of energy can only strengthen witchcraft. The trouble here is that the developments from the fragments are not enough for much - there are only general, superficial theoretical speculations for the most part. And I'm not sure that these layers of knowledge can be restored at all. This means that you need to first get used to the local world, and only then make some plans. Moreover, after the life binding, you will need to wait six months to a year.
And of course, physical training. It is due to them that the physical condition will improve, considerably reinforced by the energy of life. Unfortunately, there is no magic that would turn a wizard into a healthy individual with an ideally correct body - any result will only be a temporary panacea. In this matter, there is only one correct course of action - hard work and training, and magic will support, speed up and protect from injuries and mistakes.
The only physical training available to me is the Elven one. The thing is that in the memories of the fragments, only the Elven complexes for physical self-improvement were the most complete, while the Dwarven or Human ones were just a simple idea: "You need to lift iron! More iron! Lift more often! And then grab something heavier and beat the enemy!"
I spent almost the entire day thinking about magic and trying to dig into the depths of my memory. I had only one goal - to restore as much specific knowledge and spells as possible, but I could only pull out a dozen. The saddest thing is that this was the limit - I knew for sure that I would not be able to get anything else. Everything else is too blurry, with huge gaps in both theory and practice, and something tells me that I will not be able to supplement them in this life.
It was time for dinner, so I sat down at the table with my parents.
"Hector," said his father, having finished his meal. "Professor McGonagall is coming tomorrow, the twenty-eighth of July. You remember her, don't you?"
- Yes. I remember.
- She will accompany you shopping to school.
- Fine.
- We agreed with Headmaster Dumbledore that you will be enrolled immediately into the third year of Hogwarts, but with one condition. You will need to make up for lost time in six months.
Father didn't look very happy with this arrangement.
"No problem, father," I nodded, and my parents immediately looked at me in surprise. "I have a perfect memory. If I don't understand, I'll just remember."
"It's amazing," Mom smiled. "Hermione, your sister, also has a perfect memory. True, only for books…"
"But, however," the father again showed slight displeasure.
"Is something wrong?" I asked, trying to figure out what they didn't like.
- Well, how can I tell you... You see, son, you've just recovered, so to speak. You've seen so little, you know so little. You haven't really interacted with your peers...
"Robert," Mom looked at Dad with a slight reproach.
"What?" He looked back at his mother. "I know what a boarding school is like."
"No need to worry," I interrupted this pale indignation, smiling slightly. "I'll learn the nuances of social interaction very quickly."
The parents blinked their eyes in surprise. Apparently, my statement brought them to this state. But I declare with full responsibility that although I myself know the meaning of these words very well, as well as many others in the language, but in this life I honestly heard them, honestly read a lot, understood them and with a clear conscience can use complex formulations for communication. In the end, even all those years being in a vegetative state, I somehow saw or heard a lot, and my brain processed it.
"I can handle it," I nodded.
Dinner was over and I went to my room - there was still a lot to read. The only thing that really saddens me is the antediluvian computer without the Internet. If it were different, I would be able to find a lot of literature and refresh my knowledge, at least for the sake of checking what was left in my head from what was relevant for the end of the twentieth century.
Closer to night, I wanted to work on the life energy without prying eyes, but I changed my mind. The process could drag on, and according to my parents, tomorrow I had to go shopping with McGonagall. Haste could only do harm, and I needed to better understand the memory of the fragments. Yes, it exists, it is organized, but memory is a strange thing. Even with elven mental techniques, you can't just take it and look through it. You need to launch chains of associations in your mind and get somewhere along them. If there is somewhere to get to at all. Or sleep. Yes, sleep can help sort out all this rubble.
***
In the living room of Granger's house, Robert and Emma were sitting on the sofa. The TV was on, but the volume was at a minimum. It was almost midnight, that's what the hands on the wall clock showed.
"I doubt," Robert said, putting his arm around Emma, "that this idea with the school is a good one."
- Don't worry so much.
- Aren't you worried?
"I am very worried," Emma laid her head on her husband's shoulder. "But I also see how absurdly fast he learns everything new. It hasn't even been a month, and Hector has gone from a boy who spoke poorly, who couldn't hold a fork well, and who didn't understand anything around him, to a boy who knows everything calmly."
- It's true.
- He mastered your computer in a day. From awkwardly learning the keyboard and these, what are they called...
- I understand. I understand.
They were silent for a minute, watching some late-night show on TV.
"A doctor from Hogwarts, Madam Pomfrey," Emma said. "She sent a note with Hector. She also notes our son's very high learning ability. And very high brain activity."
— By how many percent?
Emma turned her head slightly, looking into her husband's eyes with reproach.
- What percentage? You're a doctor.
- Yes, yes, - Robert waved his hand. - I know that the brain is 100% active, and you need to take into account areas of simultaneous activity. It's just that all these stereotypes... Just like with language.
— Are you talking about how different areas of the tongue sense different tastes?
- Exactly. Stupidity from an incorrectly formulated, but correct thought in an old study. But we digress. What did their doctor write there?
— That now, while the brain activity is high, the best solution would be to load Hector with various activities. Right now, the best thing for him would be to immerse himself in a social environment.
- But…
"No buts," Emma looked sternly at her husband, reinforcing her point by lightly slapping her palm against his chest. "After so many years… I myself would very much like to watch my son, who has finally begun to develop, every day. But for his own good, we should restrain our selfish impulses. Moreover, the professor said that according to the laws of the magical world, a Muggle-born wizard is obliged to undergo training. And he will."
- Yes, yes, otherwise, judging by the hints, a completely legal spell will be used, and we ourselves will happily run to send our son to Hogwarts. I don't like this kind of coercion and hopelessness. And where is the government looking?
— As if there's something wrong with us. And, dear, do you really think the government doesn't know about wizards?
"I just wouldn't want to force Hector to do anything."
- So let's ask him tomorrow?