It was challenging to master the new magical possibilities. It's about as hard as it is if they weren't there. Month! It took a month to make a torn piece of notebook hover over the table! I've already lost faith in myself, to be honest. I thought it was another hemomancy screwdriver, but no. That was magic.

Then it became much easier - the first conscious success was significant. But even more important was faith! Without faith in what is desired, it is almost impossible to get it. But with confidence... I've done a lot of things, but on a tiny scale. I set fire, levitated, created water, controlled it, turned matches into needles on the bare will, created small balls of light - not larger than a firefly. I had as much fun as I could. ​​

The relationship with the foster parents was smooth. They were glad that the child was growing independent and purposeful, developing versatility. It seems they did not notice any strangeness. But, on the other hand, I do this not for a fight, but to make up for what I would like to do then, in a past life.

...

As time went on, I persevered and waited for my eleventh birthday, counting on a letter from Hogwarts. I don't even know what I'm going to do or if I should do anything when it comes. I'm a Malfoy, after all... Wait! According to Lucius, and if he did the ritual, I'm not a Malfoy, but then there's Black. What's on the calendar? 4th of June. I'm eleven tomorrow.

Black, yes... That's bad. I once read all sorts of fanfiction in a previous life. I hope there is no lineage magic. It's a lot of trouble because if there will be lineage magic... Thanks to the ritual of Lucius, I'm pure-blood Black. Based on this, if the events here are as in the original story, only Sirius is alive, who is unlikely to be in his own mind by his release time. And even if he will, his description in the story clearly speaks of the reluctance to inherit lineage. Then I remain. Guy, pure Black. Wizard. And that means a bunch, a massive bunch of problems!

Next question - whether to get caught the eye Malfoys? For a long time, I did not remember my origin and the hostile act of Lucius. Also, "know your place, Narcissa" still makes me want to be extremely cruel to this man. Narcissa remained a beautiful blonde with a sweet and gentle smile in my memories, holding me in her arms. Sentimentality, yes, I know, but I can't do it any other way. But what if she loves him that way? Who knows...?

I stand in front of the mirror and grin at my reflection: short, thick, straight hair, the same blonde as Narcissa's. Blue eyes, a smooth face without the slightest flaw, even too perfect, some kind of girlish, and there is no longer a childish roundness. God, I'm the man's copy of Narcissa! And these little sharp, predatory features ... But in me, only the blind does not recognize her!

Strangely, I haven't noticed much before. I have a high height for my age and an incredible physique. Well, no wonder. I worked hard after all! I was learning control over hemomancy. Thank God I learned how to disable the passive amplification of the body - so I called it. This way, I trained as before, but I had to continually focus on my weakening. An absurd situation, but even with the amplification turned on, the effect from it increased proportionally.

In a great mood, I went for a walk. Evening, good weather - why not?

Walking around the suburbs in a dormitory format is boring, but the air here is noticeably cleaner than in London. You can walk in the park, buy ice cream, look at people. It seems like I'm getting old. Well, that is, where have you seen this? A young boy with a critical look walks around the city, enjoying the silence, peace, birds in the park. Nonsense! I like this. In a past life, I smoked hard, which killed my subtle sense of smell entirely. Now, there are so many smells as then, long ago in childhood, in a past life. I remember the scent of blooming lilacs, apple trees, the smell of rain, ozone, wet asphalt. Subtle notes from a stinky Christmas tree in a passing car ... And now I'm just glad to have the fullness of sensations. But then I did not even understand how much I had lost, having acquired chronic bronchitis instead of addiction.