Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Prologue
The thing that George Mason hated most about his life was that it was uneventful, normal, AVERAGE. It couldn't be different, after all, George himself was a average guy, he was so normal, in fact, that he could easily blend into the crowd and never stand out.
The only thing that could be said to be remarkable about him, even if in a negative way, was the ability to be able to let his mind wander and sleep with open eyes. It was to such severe degree though that you could find him in a seemingly perennial state of daze even in the most improbable of situations, always dreaming of fantastic worlds the he would never be able to see. He wasn't born this way, however, but it was a characteristic that was developed after years of reading fantasy novels.
While he hoped for a turning point to happen in his otherwise monotonous life, never could have he imagined that he himself would someday be part of an unbelievable adventure.
The day started like usual and George believe it to be another boring routine, and it was, at least until the evening, that was because the moment he went to bed was the last time he would have ever be called George again.
----Hogwarts, 1 September 1991----
It was 3 in the morning, the moon still up in the sky, casting its bright reflection on the still surface of the lake. Even in the darkness of the first hours of the morning, the imposing castle was an incredible sight to behold.
In Albus Dumbledore office, only the flickering flame of an almost exhausted candle was lightening the otherwise dark room.
An old man was resting his head on the beautifully wood carved desk, he was so old that was it not for the rhythmical rising and lowering of his back, he could have been mistaken for a dead body. Long white hair were neatly parted midways and an even longer and whiter beard was covering almost half of the desk's length.
The random chirping of a red bird sleeping on a perch and the sound of a magical quill writing on a parchment were the only things breaking the complete silence in the office.
The old man was none other than Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, first class, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Also probably one of the strongest wizard alive.
The night before, in preparation of the beginning of the new school year, he decided to stay up late to make sure everything was set in order to accommodate the new students. However, even the most powerful Dumbledore couldn't win against the call of Morpheus, and thus succumbed to slumber on his desk.
What he could have never imagined was that the moment he closed his eyes, something happened, an old curse he suffered to his soul in the past, that for years troubled the old wizard, seemed to flare up due to overwork, and, combined with the fact that the old wizard didn't tempestivily take his most needed potion, almost instantly e painlessly killed the man.
And why was it then that the headmaster was still alive and breathing? It would be unfair to sum the whole situation up to a mere feat of magic, but that was the easiest way to put it. What was certain though, was that the Albus Dumbledore that everybody knew was no more. The soul of the grandfatherly figure already gone, and its rightful place in his body was being occupied at this very moment by another soul. Nobody will ever know how this seemingly impossible occurrence came to be: millions of different coincidences were needed and as many irregularities.
Eventually the swapping of souls ended and the new one finally merged completely with the still warm body.
It was only a few hours later that, along with the first few rays of light, the wooden globe that stood imposingly mid air behind the desk started to act up. The sounds of turning gears could be heard and slowly but surely, the 2 hemispheres opened parting in the middle, revealing inside a big clock of incredible craftsmanship. Not even a second later, when the hands stopped at 7 am, the face also opened and a lifelike cuckoo bird blasted out on a spring screaming.
The globe was in fact a magical artifact that, between others, could be set magically to be an alarm clock of sorts, and one very useful to Albus at that, seeing how he always ended up staying late in the office. He was used to set it whenever he felt he could end up sleeping while working, and the previous night was no different.
Hearing the annoying sound, even the most lazy wizard would be forced out of sleep.
Albus eyelids first fluttered, then twitched and finally outright opened with a startle. The man once known as George Mason was not even able to overcome the morning haziness that he was subjected by the most unbearable headache he ever felt.
It was so sudden that he didn't even have the time to wander why the alarm sound was so strange, or why the first thing he saw was a burning bird.
Eyes closed, hands clutching his head Albus immediately stood up, only to fall down shortly after and forced to assume a fetal position as a futile attempt to mitigate the horrifying feeling.
The pain didn't come alone, and along with it years and years of memories, 115 to be precise, and not anyone's memories, but those of the greatest wizard of all time, someone who, up until the previous day, he only regarded as a mere bout of imagination.
Hundreds of daily life memories…of people he's never saw, of places he's never been to, of MAGIC…ohh magic, what an amazing thing that it is, and how dearly attached to it was the professor, every single moment of his life was dictated in its secrets pursue.
It was a few minutes later, as the pain receded, that the man had the mental strength to even think properly.
As soon as he was able to, though, came the realization that something impossible had just happened to him, he was in the fictional world of Harry Potter and he was here to stay as none other than Albus Dombledore.
Albus started hyperventilating, mouth was dry, and hands shaking, all symptoms leading to a panic attack. It wasn't hard to understand why: it was too much to take at the same time. His lips parted for the first time and was about to speak, but a lump in his throat dangerously threatened to start a sobbing feat.
"W-Wwhy….why, WHY!!!"
Finally he couldn't control it anymore and the crying started. It was almost sickening to watch such an old man, once a legend, cry so loudly that could put to shame even the most spoiled kid.
"WHY?? Uh..h! wwhy fucking Dumbledor!!!!"
"uh.h…ah.. a-all my life…ALL MY FU!KING LIFE I WAITED FOR THIS MOMENT!!!"
The initially feeble and incomprehensible runt was now turned in a screaming contest and surely, had it not been for the silencing charms applied in the studio, the whole castle would have heard it.
"D-D-DO Y-YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I DREAMED OF IT?? IT'S SO UNFAIR! It-t's s-so… unfair..uh"
The man seemed to tune it down if only a bit, almost resigned to his fate. After slouching down on the chair lifelessly, he was now silently tearing up while mumbling how unfair the world was.
And unfair it was, for the man, whose all life was spent dreaming of fantasies, to finally reincarnate in such a fantasy himself, only to realize that if nothing was done, this new life was going to be a short one.
Minutes later the old wizard slowly seemed to regain a bit of composure. He used the long sleeve to wipe the snot and tears out of his face and started thinking
"It's usless to cry now… I can't go back, I don't want to go back. Even being this decrepit old fart is hundreds if not thousand times better than my old life! Yeah…B-but still, it's so unfair…of all the people I could reincarnate into, why him huh."
Letting out a final, long and depressed sigh, the now new Dumbledore started sorting out the memories he had just received. In doing so he was still unwilling to accept reality.
He again stood up, direction a little mirror on the wall to his right, just above the pensive that many times he had seen in the films. Differently from the usual reincarnations fanfictions he used to read, what awaited him wasn't the reflection of an handsome and promising young man, but an old crone at the end of his days.
Even with the eyes red and puffy from crying, he could still recognize the man in front of him. He was the exactly spitted image of Richard Harris in the first movie.
Seeing himself was not a thrilling experience to say the least and in fact his lower lip started trembling again. He forced himself to swallow the new tears and said:
"what am I even doing right now!! I should be grateful instead, this…this..could be an opportunity.. r-right?"
Despite uttering such words, not even the wizard himself was sure of them. His mind was torn: on one hand the joy of being a wizard, a powerful one also; on the other, the notion of being the old Dumbledore.
"O-ok…P-pull yourself tougher goddammit!! I am in a magic world! I have an insanely amount of power at my fingertips, I have magic, I have hundreds of spell at my disposal a-and also the elder wand yes the wand…wait! Where is my wand??"
As if hearing its master call, the elder wand started hovering from the floor where it fell shortly before and flew right into Dumbledore's right hand, and it was then that happened.
Just as the wand touched the headmaster hand a surreal feeling crept into him and radiated from the hand, energizing all over his ancient body. Wondrous games of light were coming out on full display from the tip of the piece of wood. The air was vibrating and an insanely amount of power was being concentrated in the old man: a monster had just been awakened.
"hah…ahah….hahahah….HAHAHAHAHA!!"
The pathetic sight of a man crying that you could have seen just a couple minutes ago, was now gone and a crazy laughing maniac seemed to have taken his place. The wizard and the wand were finally one once again and both of them were almost squealing in the pleasure of magic.
"This feeling… is so addictive. It's so good!! I literally have the power to destroy a town! Dumbledore, my man… I'M SORRY!!! I was blind, but now I can see what a monster you really were!! Amazing HAHAHAHA How is it even possible that this old body to be feeling so light! What!?? I Feel younger than my past self for fuck sake!!!"
"What Harry Potter!? What Voldemort?? I can fucking stomp both of them with my arms behind my back. This power…is insane HAHAHAH! I love it so much!!!"
He couldn't really kill Voldemort so easily after all, it was only the illusion created by the first time feeling the powerful and imposing magic of Albus.
"Ok! Enough of that, there is a lot to think about, a lot to plot, a lot to prepare"
Just like that a man was reborn, and was ready to take the world by storm.
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