The ceiling above him was ancient, wooden beams stretching across a dimly lit dormitory. He could hear the muffled breathing of other boys sleeping in their beds nearby. The moment his eyes adjusted, a single, horrifying realization struck him.
This isn't Earth.
Memories that were not his own surged through his mind—his name, his house, his life at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was no longer the person he had been before. He was Charlie Alden, a fourth-year student at Hufflepuff House.
And he was in deep trouble.
The Weight of a New Life
It took hours for him to calm down. He lay in bed, pretending to sleep while piecing together the details. His body felt different—not just younger, but weaker, like he had never worked out a day in his life. Even more worrying, he was completely and utterly unremarkable. No special bloodline, no hidden talent. Just another Hufflepuff student.
The knowledge from his past life mixed uneasily with the memories of this world. He knew what was coming—Voldemort's return, the Triwizard Tournament, Cedric's death. Everything that had once been fiction was now terrifyingly real.
His hands clenched the blanket tightly. I'm not ready for this.
Then, just as panic was threatening to consume him, a voice echoed in his mind.
[System Activated: The Path to Power has begun.]
His breath hitched. A System? That was… unexpected.
[Objective: Survive.]
A simple statement, yet filled with implication. He was weak now, but if the system was anything like the ones from games or novels, he had a chance. A chance to grow.
He swallowed, his heart pounding. Fine. If I'm here, I won't just survive. I'll become strong enough to change everything.
A Hufflepuff's Daily Life
The next morning, Charlie blended in with the other students at breakfast. He kept his head down, observing, adjusting to his new role. No sudden moves, no unnecessary risks.
He recognized Cedric Diggory, the golden boy of Hufflepuff, laughing with his friends at the far end of the table. Beside him sat his dormmates—David, Lucas, and Ben, all vaguely familiar from the remnants of his inherited memories. None of them suspected a thing.
As he picked at his food, his System updated.
[Daily Quest: Basic Magical Practice]
Objective: Successfully perform three minor spells today.Reward: +1 to Magical Control
It wasn't much, but it was a start. He would take anything that could help him.
The first challenge, however, was proving he could use magic at all.
The Struggles of Magic
He spent the first class of the day in Charms, sitting in the back as Professor Flitwick instructed them on refining their Levitation Charm. He mimicked the others, lifting his wand, focusing on the incantation.
Wingardium Leviosa.
Nothing.
His heart sank. A flicker of embarrassment crawled up his neck as the others effortlessly lifted their feathers. Cedric was already moving his with ease.
He tried again. And again.
After five attempts, his feather wobbled, barely lifting an inch before collapsing.
[Skill Acquired: Basic Spellcasting - Levitation Charm]
Progress: 1/100
He clenched his fists beneath the desk. This was going to take time.
By the time class ended, he had managed to get the feather to hover, but it was sloppy at best. He ignored the glances from other students, his frustration simmering. He wasn't a prodigy. Not yet.
But if there was one thing he had learned from games, it was that progress was everything.
A Conversation with Flitwick
As Charlie was gathering his books after class, Professor Flitwick approached him with a thoughtful expression. The diminutive Charms Master tilted his head slightly, watching Charlie with keen eyes.
"Mr. Alden, may I have a word?"
Charlie swallowed hard but nodded. The other students filtered out, leaving them alone in the classroom.
"I noticed you were struggling today," Flitwick said kindly, his voice gentle but perceptive. "Your wand movements were correct, but your magic seems… hesitant."
Charlie shifted uncomfortably. "I just need more practice, Professor."
Flitwick's eyes twinkled. "Indeed. But tell me, do you feel the magic as you cast? Magic isn't just about incantations and wand movements, you know. It's about will, focus, and belief."
Charlie hesitated. How could he explain that he was new to this world, that this body felt foreign to him? Instead, he nodded. "I think I'm just overthinking it."
"A common problem," Flitwick said with a knowing smile. "But don't be discouraged. Some of the greatest wizards started off struggling with the basics. Talent is helpful, but perseverance is far more important."
Charlie let those words settle. Perseverance. That, he could do.
"I'll keep practicing, Professor," he said, determination creeping into his voice.
Flitwick beamed. "That's the spirit! If you'd like, feel free to visit my office after classes—I can give you a few extra exercises to help you along."
Charlie blinked. An opportunity? He wouldn't waste it.
"Thank you, Professor. I'd really appreciate that."
Flitwick chuckled. "Hufflepuffs are known for their dedication, Mr. Alden. I have no doubt you'll surprise yourself soon enough."
As Charlie left the classroom, he felt something new stirring within him—hope.
Trouble in Potions and Transfiguration
Potions class was next, and Charlie quickly discovered that precision mattered more than talent.
They were tasked with brewing a simple Boil-Cure Potion, something that should have been straightforward. He followed the instructions meticulously, measuring ingredients with careful concentration. However, his coordination was sloppy—his crushed snake fangs clumped together, and he stirred the wrong way twice.
A soft hiss came from his cauldron. The liquid within turned an alarming shade of murky green instead of the desired pink. The fumes stung his eyes.
[Potion Brewing: +0.5% Progress]
Half a percent? That's all? Charlie groaned internally.
Professor Snape glided past, pausing at Charlie's cauldron. He sneered. "A disaster waiting to happen, as expected from a Hufflepuff."
Charlie clenched his jaw, keeping his expression neutral. Don't draw attention.
By the end of the lesson, his potion was declared "barely serviceable", and Snape wasted no time humiliating him in front of the class. He wasn't alone—half the students had their potions vanish under Snape's wand, but the sting of failure still lingered.
Transfiguration wasn't much better. Professor McGonagall had them transforming matches into needles. It looked simple when she demonstrated it, her matchstick flashing silver instantly.
Charlie, however, struggled.
His first attempt? The match glowed, then crumbled into black ash.
The second attempt? It turned rubbery, bending under his touch instead of sharpening into a needle.
[Skill Acquired: Basic Transfiguration - Progress: 1/100]
McGonagall gave him a critical but not unkind look. "Transfiguration requires precision, patience, and visualization, Mr. Alden. If you rush it, you will only frustrate yourself."
Charlie nodded, but frustration still gnawed at him.
At the end of class, as the students packed up, McGonagall pulled him aside.
"I've seen students struggle before," she said in a softer voice. "But even the slowest learners can become exceptional with discipline. Keep practicing."
Charlie exhaled. It wasn't much, but at least she hadn't written him off completely.
A New Path
That night, he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He had struggled, but he had improved. It was small, insignificant to others, but to him, it was the first step in what would be a long journey.
He wouldn't become a master overnight. He wouldn't wake up as Dumbledore's equal. But he would work for it.
As he closed his eyes, he made a promise to himself.
I will be strong. I will be ready. When the Triwizard Tournament comes, I will not be a bystander.
For now, he was weak.
But not for long.