Ethan watched once again his reflection in the bathroom mirror, still not completely recognizing the face staring back at him.

  Two weeks had passed since he woke up in this body, in this life that wasn't his but now belonged to him. His fingers traced the outline of his jawline, his sharp green eyes studying every detail.

  "I still don't know what to feel," he murmured to himself, still unable to fully process the reality, feeling lost even after so long.

  Every time he looked at his new mother and father, images of his previous family fshed through his mind. His parents had died a long time ago, and he couldn't even remember their faces, even though he had promised himself he would never forget them.

  Every time he said "dad" or "mom," his heart ached, as if it cost him to lie, even though he was used to it.

  Perhaps it was because, after all, he was only a concentration of memories, of experiences in a completely new young body. It was no longer easy to suppress his emotions when he needed to.

  At least right now he had bigger problems to deal with, such as trying to survive in a world where magic existed. And not just any magical world.

  "Harry Potter…"

  The surprise had come three days after his awakening, when he found a copy of The Prophet in the living room. The headline announced the test news about Gilderoy Lockhart and his upcoming book signing. Ethan had felt his first panic attack in a long time. The date, 1992. The year when the Chamber of Secrets took pce.

  Everyone is brave until you have a giant snake with death vision breathing down your neck. When it can happen in real life, it's impossible not to be afraid.

  At the end of his reflection, his body had automatically gone down the stairs and into the kitchen where his "mother" was preparing breakfast. A kind woman, with chestnut hair and warm eyes who had no idea that her son was no longer really her son.

  "Have you already packed all your things for Hogwarts, sweetheart? There's only a week left."

  "Almost everything," he answered mechanically while his brain was working at full capacity. Ethan found himself trapped in an uncomfortable crossroads. His mother looked at him with those eyes full of maternal love, expecting details about a school year he had never experienced. A year that belonged to the real son of this woman, not to him.

  "And how was your year really? You barely told me anything in your letters, and at home you hardly talk about what happened st year," she asked as she served breakfast.

  Ethan swallowed discreetly. As an elementary school teacher, his mother had an infallible radar for detecting lies or inappropriate situations in school environments.

  "It was...educational," he began cautiously. "Professor Snape is demanding but brilliant. His method may seem harsh, but he really seeks excellence in his students."

  He understood that he needed to describe Hogwarts as a protected and well-organized institution. Any mention of exploding potions, hidden chambers or lethal threats would immediately cancel his participation in the magical institution.

  "The teachers are very strict about safety regutions," Ethan continued, choosing his words carefully as he spread jam on his toast. "There is constant supervision in the hallways and common rooms."

  The paintings in Hogwarts probably counted as supervision…

  His mother looked at him with that penetrating gaze that she had perfected over years of interrogating primary school children.

  "And why did you mention something about a infirmary in your February letter? Did you get hurt?"

  Ethan felt a knot in his stomach. He had no idea that the original Ethan had ended up in the infirmary.

  "Oh, that. Nothing serious. We had a Herbology practical css and some pnts have thorns. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, is extremely competent. Any scratches are cured in minutes."

  "Minutes? That sounds like an exaggeration," she replied, frowning slightly. "And what about that incident with the potions you mentioned casually?"

  Ethan cursed inwardly… What kind of child tells his parents about dangerous things? Even if it was an experience that happened to another student, mothers only hear: "I almost got killed at school, but nothing happened, everything is fine, hehe".

  "They're just b accidents, Mom. Like when someone mixes the components wrong in chemistry. Professor Snape always has antidotes prepared and no one has suffered permanent damage."

  "Antidotes? Permanent damage? Ethan, that doesn't sound exactly reassuring."

  "It's just technical terminology," he hastened to crify. "It's like when you talk about 'pedagogical interventions' to refer to a simple talk with a student."

  His mother didn't seem convinced. She put her coffee cup on the table and crossed her arms.

  "Apart from that, I just want to avoid unnecessary worries for you, accidents happen everywhere and Hogwarts is perfectly prepared to handle them."

  Ethan was forced to continue lying, opting to invent a common but equally arming risk. After all, no one would believe him if he said that everything was perfect.

  "You see, one of my friends tripped down the stairs while running and broke his arm and colrbone," he commented, specifying: "They transferred him immediately to the infirmary and in a few days he was as good as new."

  The least he could do was highlight the "extraordinary" nature of the magical world.

  "Here that would take months to heal and then therapy, and in the magical world? There are potions even to regrow bones!"

  Silently, he felt sorry for Harry Potter, who would end up with a "snail arm".

  "I still find it hard to imagine that something like that is possible... But since we're talking about 'friends,' why have you never brought any friend home? I would love to meet those cssmates you talk about."

  "They live far away," he replied without dey. "Most come from families... with magical heritage. They are not very accustomed to the non-magical environment."

  His mother narrowed her eyes.

  "You know I'm a teacher, right? I recognize when a student is hiding something from me. If Hogwarts were an ordinary school, I would have already requested a meeting with the principal."

  Ethan sighed, once you start lying it's impossible to stop.

  "No, no, I'm telling the truth… It's jut that the magical world is stuck in the 1800s… There are noble families who don't like muggles and all that," he hastily expined before his mother could react. "But discrimination is everywhere in the world, and my friends are all great… It's just that… I'm afraid they'll become addicted to technology."

  His mother raised an eyebrow, completely attentive to what her son was going to say. Half disbelief and half amusement, given that she found the small signs of discomfort in Ethan entertaining.

  "Even I missed my PC more than anything when I was at Hogwarts, imagine what would happen if I brought someone who lives in the Middle Ages to my room and showed them my games? They would probably move in with us and ask you to adopt them too"

  Ethan could only joke and ugh while stuffing his mouth with toast.

  "Oh, you missed the PC more than your own mother?" she replied shrewdly, smiling subtly while her tone of voice and gaze seemed calmer.

  Something that Ethan had failed to notice is that his mother had really been worried about his health during these two weeks, given that his own son seemed different, scared and even swore that he was thinner even though he had seen him eat little. There were hundreds of things she wanted to ask him and didn't dare... Since she and her husband had discovered that magic was real, everything had changed, even if it was slightly. She still wasn't used to having him absent for so many months and the owls weren't the same as communicating by phone and hearing his voice.

  "Of course I missed the PC," he said to his mother's surprise. "If I study potions and other things, maybe I can make you and dad live for 200 years, that's more than enough time to miss the PC for a while if I'm going to you them around for a very, very long time."

  Ethan joked cheekily, but had no other choice but to get up and throw himself around his mother's neck, kissing her cheek with his dirty mouth, making the woman try to move away while ughing much happier than ever.

  After a while, his mother wiped her cheek silently, evaluating him once more.

  "Are you happy there?" she asked finally, in a much softer tone.

  The question took him a little by surprise, given that he still found it difficult to look directly into those loving eyes that his "new mother" had.

  "Yes," he replied sincerely. "It's the only pce where I truly fit in, where what makes me different is not a problem, but a gift."

  Again, between lies and truths, it was the only thing he could answer, even though it sounded generic.

  The truth is that he would never have gone to Hogwarts if he didn't have an ace up his sleeve, something he was already a master of and that could easily compete with the magic of this world.

  "I suppose that's what matters," were his mother's words that brought him out of his trance, "But promise me you'll be careful and tell me if you face truly dangerous situations."

  "Yes, Mom!"

  He lied for the st time before escaping from there as quickly as possible, after all, he only had a week to prepare for the future.

  "Time to create Runes…"