Chapter Text
Klein stood in the clothing store called Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, arms stretched out, in a feeling of utter disbelief.
Around him, a matronly lady in elegant robes tsk’d and poked him with a needle.
“Just stand still dearie,” Madam Malkin said warmly, as a tape measurer whizzed about the air and took his measurements, “you'll be all done and out with your robes in a jiffy.”
In the mirror, Klein could see the busy store bustling with children and attendants, as well as himself. His reflection had a somewhat scholarly air, his frame somewhat thin and gangly. His average features were familiar, but the deep outline was now softened—as befitting the youthfulness of a fifteen-year-old.
Klein’s brown eyes observed all of this blankly. A moment ago, he had been about to enter the mysterious gray fog, ready to participate in the third tarot gathering. He had been about to confirm the stable effect of chanting the ritual repeatedly in this new and mysterious world.
But now Klein was in a world where witches and wizards and strange magical feats existed.
Finally, his thoughts exploded.
Holy f*’ing power of magic!?
Why did I come here? What happened? Is this a dream, or was I transmigrated again? This time I didn't even go to sleep!? Is this allowed? No, take me back!
Why am I fifteen? Do I remember the memories of this body? No… why is this body’s name also “Klein Moretti”! Ah, he also has two siblings, Melissa and Benson, and his father died in a war against ‘He-who-must-not-be-named’...
This is bullshit!
Klein’s thoughts burst and fumed.
It was enough to cause Klein to suspect he was in a hallucinogenic dream. Either the previous world was the hallucination—or this one was, as a warped, twisted version of prior events.
“Dear, are you alright?” Madam Malkin suddenly paused, concerned, and Klein realized his face had quite uncontrollably distorted. He reined in his thoughts and expression until he finally appeared more normal. He breathed out slowly, and forced a smile.
“Yes, Madam Malkin. I'm alright.”
His voice and accent was recognizably British.
This was similar to the original Klein Moretti, but also subtly different.
The rest of the fitting passed by in a daze. He exited with two new black robes in his hands, returning to wearing a dusty old one with tears at the bottom. He was told to have another great year at Hogwarts. Each piece of chatter made it into his mind, was carefully and attentively filed away, but the experiential elements of life faded away in a dreamy twist.
He woke up when he saw Benson and Melissa’s faces outside the shop. They each carried a few small bags, the edges subtly book-shaped.
Benson smiled at him and joked, “Not going to put the new robes on right away?”
Klein instinctively held the packet Madam Malkin had given him closer, and said, “I don't want them to get dirty.”
Benson clucked his tongue, and said, looking down the street, “Klein, you should wear clothes befitting of a gentleman wizard. Don't worry too much—we should also look respectable, now that you're in your fifth year, and I've earned a promotion.” A distracted pause. “Say, is that Minister Kuslav? We better not let him see us.”
They all stepped back, hiding in the recluses and business of Diagon Alley. The Wizarding World was a small place, where it was easy to bump into acquaintances, so it was instinctive for the siblings to avoid encountering Benson’s bosses, who he constantly complained had no brains.
Melissa, meanwhile, peered about the street with curious eyes. She seemed to be taken in by all the odd sites—eyes eventually landing between the trunk store and the clockworks store. Melissa was roughly six years younger than him, so she was now only nine years old. Still, her sightlines never touched Floresque’s Icecream Shop, only lingering on the magical gadgets.
Klein sighed, a familiar smile coming to him.
Finally, as they all watched subtly, Minister Kuslav had long walked past.
“Do you want to check out the clock shop?” he asked Melissa, somewhat dotingly, taking the young black-haired girl's small hand. She was a bit thin, but not unduly so—Benson had worked hard to keep them all fed and clothed. In the Wizarding World, this was not too difficult, with duplication spells to produce more food and spellwork to automate tasks—but Benson, as a student, still had to once learn all these tasks. He often bitterly complained about the Ministry’s poor orphans fund and the lacking response after the war…
Klein paused, an odd look coming to his face.
“It's okay,” Melissa's small voice spoke, as she then shook her head. She tugged her bags, as if to indicate the small books they had bought together were enough.
The three finally walked out from Diagon Alley, stopping at Leaky Cauldron’s pub entrance to use the floo to get back to their tiny apartment, out in muggle London.
As Klein followed along, his hand instinctively grabbing the green powder and throwing it into the fireplace, he wondered in bewilderment,
Aren't I adapting to this too quickly!?
Each movement felt rote, familiar, and automatic, completely contrasting with his first transmigration experience which had been confusing and full of fear.
Even as he smiled and chatted with his siblings, the day feeling strangely very real, sunlight shining overhead, he felt a deep sense of unease.
.
The Moretti siblings ate a traditional meal of cabbage, mushrooms, and ground beef with potatoes and warmed milk. This wasn't dissimilar to Loen fare, but was beyond the simple ingredients available to the Moretti family that had once lived on Iron Cross Street.
A sense of dissonance grew in Klein, who was already the transmigrator Zhou Mingrui who had taken over the original Klein Moretti.
Finally, after they each returned to their own small rooms and Klein laid in a dusty bed, he finally realized the source of his unease.
This Klein… he didn't die, did he?
Am I inhabiting a body with an existing soul?
Hello? Are you out there?
There was no response. Klein, somewhat relieved, returned to his thoughts.
What happened to the Melissa and Benson Moretti I left back at home? No, at that place, in 2 Daffodil Street? Will they return home, and find their brother missing?
Klein carefully considered both of these worlds he had transmigrated into. Both had felt incredibly real. Both also seemed connected to the luck enhancement ritual, whose effect was not stable after all.
Every third time I chant the ritual, a new result will appear? he guessed. Will I return to the other world again, or am I stuck here? Or will I end up in an entirely new world, again, as a new Klein Moretti with a similar history, but subtly different people around him? A soul, just drifting and endlessly transmigrating along the cosmos, never returning to its origin…
Klein felt a chill.
Should I try the luck enhancement ritual again to see what happens … Maybe I will return home after all .. No, it's too risky, what if I end up somewhere worse… but what about Melissa and Benson? No, they are originally not my siblings in the first place…
Uneasy, unable to resolve his doubts and make a plan, Klein fell asleep.
.
In the morning, everything seemed bright and warm again.
Klein smoothly adjusted to the younger body, holding the fork and spoon properly as the Moretti siblings ate breakfast.
“Sigh, summer ended so quickly,” said Benson. “You won't be able to look after Melissa anymore. Should I help you to the Hogwarts Express, or will you manage this time?”
Klein blinked, taken by surprise. He had been so absorbed in wondering what had happened to him last night, that he hadn't thought about the matter of Hogwarts at all. His body had been excited to return to it, and had many friends there in Ravenclaw… Today was the first day when students returned back to Hogwarts on a train…
Why do wizards go to school on a steam engine train? Klein was a bit confused. More importantly, should I go to this school? Learning more about magic could be useful. But on the other hand, in the other world, I learned more about Beyonders with the Nighthawks, and it wasn't useful at all, because I came here too quickly… A unified approach?
Last night, he had attempted divining his situation using the techniques taught by Old Neil, but had little luck.
Is divination not effective in this world? Or does it appear in a different form?
Klein frowned, and then replied,
“I should be able to go on my own.”
For now, I should proceed with this original Klein’s life, and make sure they don't suspect me. In the meantime, I will research the differences between worlds.
“Good, good.” Benson, who was only nineteen and was starting to have a receding hairline, smiled in relief as he grabbed a newspaper and stood up. “Then, I'll see you in the winter holidays. Klein… study well, but remember to also speak with your friends and enjoy life. This is very important while you're young. Don't read too many history books… Ehm, well, it's good if you're also improving yourself.”
He said this in the way of an elder brother before a long parting, and cautioned Klein on as many things as felt reasonable.
They all then shared a brief hug.
“Melissa, be good,” Benson briefly patted her head, before he left through the fireplace floo to head to work in the Ministry of Magic.
Klein and Melissa were left staring at each other.
Klein finally crouched, smiled, and tapped her shoulders.
“You'll be alright, won't you? Benson will come home soon. And I'll write letters often.”
His mouth moved according to this familiar impulse, and memories of seeing the little Melissa grow up rose in his heart.
Melissa nodded, ever quiet.
Klein nodded to himself, then took the keys, put on a coat—no, robe—and then, grabbed a prepacked trunk from his room. After a moment, he thoughtfully picked up his wand on the bedside table and pocketed it—the Moretti’s could not afford proper wand holsters.
Finally, he returned to the kitchen and exited out the fireplace floo after giving Melissa one last farewell, just like Benson had. After speaking his destination aloud confidently and stepping into the flames, there was a nasty but familiar sense of squeezing, and twisting, and then he was out.
Outside, at King’s Cross Station, the September cold air bit his throat. He coughed, took a deep breath, and stepped forwards, looking for Platform 9 and ¾.
On the way, his path was blocked by a large gaggle of red-heads bustling around the muggle-filled train station, each pushing carriages with trunks. They talked openly of needing to find the same platform and even mentioned Hogwarts.
The Weasleys… Klein recognized, surprised. There, he also saw a laughing Fred and George, who last year had made their infamous entrance into Hogwarts, pulling pranks to the point that even 4th year Ravenclaw Klein Moretti had known about the first years. Now they'll be second years…
Klein shook his head, and was ready to ignore them (but with caution), to proceed to platform 9 and ¾, but he noticed the Weasley matron abruptly calling to a lost-looking eleven-year-old boy.
She directed him to the platform wall, and gave him instructions on how to get to platform 9 and ¾.
The boy then ran into the platform with her family.
Klein relaxed as he observed this encounter, realizing this boy must be muggle-born.
They're quite nice…
Yes, in this world, there seems to be some discrimination against ‘muggle-borns’ and ideas of blood purity… How absurd…
Anyway, the Weasleys are gone now. I finally have room to enter as well. Hmm, how will it feel? This Klein’s memories make it feel like the parting of water, or traversing through an invisible veil.
Klein confidently strode forward into the train station pillar, emerging out on the other side. The feeling was similar to what he expected. His head turned around. Rather than normal clothes, now suddenly everyone wore wizard hats and robes.
He sighed emotively, stepping forward and away from the platform entrance in order to observe the crowd discreetly.
He also located a suitable train carriage entrance with his eyes, which wasn't too populated.
Havoc and cacophony, as well as hugs and goodbyes, filled the train station platform. Klein stood aloof, and somewhat alone, feeling strange. So far, he hadn't yet spotted any familiar figures from this Klein’s memories.
This is the Wizarding World… Separate from Muggle London, living in secret from the rest of the world… Priding themselves on ignorance, yet living in such simple happiness after the dark shadow of war only a decade ago...
As Klein watched, a chattering wizarding parent accidentally dropped their newspaper, moving pictures describing a Gringotts break in dramatically enscrawled on the first page. The newspaper flew towards, taken by the wind.
The newspaper blew right by Klein’s nose, right before the wizard called ‘Accio’ and spun their wand to slowly bring it back.
At the top right, the newspaper was marked, September 1991.
1991!
Klein froze.
It was one thing to know something in theory, and another to realize it fully. Somehow, it suddenly clicked for him: he was back on Earth. He was back on Earth, but in the past, where there was real magic!
I'm back on an Earth with no internet! he lampooned fiercely.
Then he thought with an intense curiosity and longing,
Does my family exist here?
No, I wasn't even yet born!
What is this? Time travel?
How does this mean I should return home? At a 1 second per 1 second rate, then an airplane trip? No, I'm in someone's else's body, and I can't wait twenty years to greet my parents like this. And what if this is an alternate universe, another dimension, and they don't exist at all?
Did I get incarnated into a fantasy novel, or a scifi?
He expressionlessly looked at the wizards tossing their hats in the air, casting spells with their wands, and hurrying their children aboard the old-fashioned locomotive steam train.
Finally, Klein sighed, then helplessly looked down at his own fifteen-year-old hands, which were similarly robed but with an embroidered blue.
… It's fantasy. Definitely fantasy.