Anduin realized that adjusting the weight during his workouts didn't actually leave him feeling very tired. As someone who trained regularly, he knew this wasn't a good sign. Just like building muscle, if you didn't feel soreness or fatigue afterward, it meant you hadn't pushed yourself hard enough.
So, he quickly switched up his routine. Instead of blindly chasing heavier weights, he began focusing on endurance training: using telekinesis to keep objects hovering in the air for as long as possible.
The change worked. At first, holding objects aloft for more than five minutes made him dizzy. He'd never risked overexerting himself before discovering this ability, so he always stopped at the right moment. After a day of rest, though, his energy bounced back completely, giving him the confidence to train nightly. Over years of practice, his stamina grew steadily.
Now, after more than a year of training, Anduin could keep objects floating for nearly 40 minutes.
He stood in his room, manipulating dumbbells that orbited his body like planets around the sun. Their paths shifted constantly, figure-eights one moment, sharp vertical dives the next.
After a while, a familiar fatigue set in. Knowing his session was almost over, he guided the dumbbells back to their place and stretched. "It's getting easier every time," he mused. "I wonder when I'll be able to fly with a sword like in those fantasy novels."
Unbeknownst to him, as he daydreamed, an owl from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—nestled somewhere in northern England—was winging its way to the Ellens Church Welfare Home in London.
6:00 AM the next day. The orphanage was still quiet. Anduin opened his window, inhaled the crisp morning air, changed clothes, and headed to the courtyard. After a brief warm-up, he flowed through a series of Tongbiquan movements.
"Hah…" He exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow, and walked to the dining hall as usual.
"Good morning, Sister Triss. I could smell the pumpkin oatmeal from down the hall," he greeted the nun preparing breakfast.
"Good morning, Anduin. Back from your exercises already? If the other children had half your discipline, I'd have fewer gray hairs." She handed him a steaming bowl with a fond smile.
He accepted it wordlessly, not daring to reply. With an adult's mind in a child's body, he'd learned to tread carefully.
After finishing breakfast and thanking Sister Triss, he returned to his room—and froze. A tawny owl was perched on his windowsill, dropping a letter onto his desk. It cocked its head, staring at him unblinkingly.
Anduin shut the door, approached the desk, and picked up the envelope. No stamp, just emerald-green ink addressing:
Mr. Anduin Wilson
Ellens Church Welfare Home
Shaftesbury Avenue
Flipping it over, he saw a wax seal stamped with a crest: a bold "H" encircled by a lion, eagle, badger, and serpent.
"Why would someone send me something this… bizarre?" He unfolded the letter and read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class; Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards; Chief Warlock, Wizengamot)
Dear Mr. Wilson,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of required books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. Kindly send your reply by owl no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
First-Year Students Require:
Three sets of plain black work robes
One plain black pointed hat
One pair of protective gloves (dragonhide or similar)
"Wait… Harry Potter's world?" Anduin stared at the letter. He'd never imagined magic was real—even after discovering his telekinesis, he'd chalked it up to a "unique gift." Now, panic set in: I never read the books in my past life!
His reincarnated memories were hazy, but he knew the original story took place in the 1990s. But it's 1980 now! He strained to recall details—Dumbledore, Harry, Voldemort—but the plot eluded him.
"So much for being 'special.' Turns out everyone here's a wizard," he muttered dryly. Taking deep breaths, he steadied himself.
He glanced at the owl still waiting on the sill. "You need a reply, don't you? Sorry, no treats here—but I'll write now."
The owl blinked, unmoving.
Anduin grabbed paper and pen. In polite terms, he accepted Hogwarts' offer but mentioned his ignorance of the magical world and orphan status, politely asking for guidance.