The world of water mist came to August 1991.

“ExpelloArma！！！”

A young voice echoed throughout the valley of Franche, a delicate-looking boy who was practicing the Disarming Charm.

His movements were so standard that even the strictest spell masters couldn't blame him for anything.

However, judging by the results of the spell, it is clear that this is a failed attempt.

As Melda pronounced the disarming spell clearly and standardly, the wand in his hand glowed only slightly reddish in the front section, and had no other effect than that.

"Hey." Such a result did not hit Melda, because it was already his best in half a month.

Maybe in the beginning, he was really devastated. But now all he can do is passively accept.

After a sigh, the boy silently put away his wand and walked down the hill alone.

——————

As the surroundings once again turned into ink paintings, the scene in front of Melda's eyes changed abruptly. Something unknown seemed to be stirring up, causing the landscape in front of him to change again and again.

One moment he felt like he was in London, the next he felt like he was in Diagon Alley.

For a moment, it was as if he heard an old voice, a hoarse and magical voice.

"Try this, sycamore, unicorn cane heart, thirteen and a half long."

But just as he was about to reach out and touch it, the scene around him suddenly faded, as if it had never appeared.

————————————

"Hi, hello, have you ever seen a toad?"

"Neville's toad is gone."

It was a girl with brown eyes and her signature fluffy hair of the same eye color, making her identity obvious.

"No, I didn't see it."

Melda replied without raising her head, his mind was now in a mess. It was as if someone had forced another person's memories into his brain.

"Oh, really?"

The little witch looked at Melda, who was a little pale, suspiciously, and then turned to leave.

And Melda here, he didn't say that he realized what had just happened, he just subconsciously replied.

He's not in good shape at the moment. A large number of memories kept hitting his consciousness, and the feeling was not painful, but the taste was not at all uncomfortable. It was like severe motion sickness.

He had to close his eyes and keep combing through his complicated memories.

First: What's his name?

Melda Estes Accra Corris.

And then what?

Pureblood. Single parent, living alone, with only grandpa in relatives. He has no magical talent, almost a squib. Born in England, he lived in London until he was seven years old and later moved to France.

At the age of eleven, he received offers to Hogwarts and Beauxbatons. In the end, he chose Hogwarts.

"Tsk."

Melda, who had spent a lot of energy, finally slowly cleared her memory. It is not difficult to see from memory that this is an ordinary guy, and he belongs to the kind of existence that does not even appear in the original book.

"Oh! Oh, my God! Look! ”

A few exclamations from the little wizard woke Melda awake, and when he came back to his senses, he found that he didn't know when he had put on his robe.

And he was standing next to a black lake.

"She's bigger than I thought she would."

On the other side of the lake, on the high hillside stands a majestic castle. It was far bigger than it was in the movie, and Melda was watching excitedly with the little wizards beside her.

"No more than four people per boat!" The three-meter-tall Hagrid escorted the children on the shore to the boat one by one.

Melda also boarded a small boat, but he didn't know any of the other three little wizards.

It seems that they are also passers-by like themselves, but they are also passers-by, at least not in his current state, he still talks less to other people.

A magical boat doesn't need oars, it can fly with the wind.

This is magic, and the first time she saw such a magical scene, Melda's mind couldn't help but come alive.

Find a battleship in the future and cast a spell on its mother, good guy, when you go out, you will be a battleship with a face, and the caliber is righteous.

Hmph, look at little Voldemort again, it's ridiculous.

The era of adults has changed!

Another example is that phantom shapeshifting is considered space magic, and if you want to find a way to install it directly on the space shuttle, can it be used as a curvature engine?

And the Philosopher's Stone, can it be used as fuel for nuclear fusion?

What else is the Traceless Stretch Spell that is simply a plug-in level thing, it seems to have infinite room for growth, so it can be nested?

If you can, then why not put the entire wizarding world in a box with an ecological circulation system, and the secrecy problem will be solved?

Wait, I found Hua Dian. Isn't it a nesting doll to put an item with an infinite extension spell into an item with an infinite extension spell?

Layers of nesting dolls, good guys. Isn't it possible to create a multiverse directly?

Thinking of this, Melda suddenly became excited.

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"There are spells cast here, and they look like the sky outside, as I read about in Hogwarts, a piece of school history." Hermione whispered to the little wizard next to her. Then he turned his head and looked at Melda who was following him with a somewhat complicated expression.

This guy.

She couldn't have clearer eyes than that wooden one, and all guys with empty heads looked like this.

But this guy is obviously not, that guy is just simply distracted.

Oh! Oh my God, it's unforgivable that someone would wander in such a magnificent castle.

Of course, the more important thing is that this guy has already bumped into himself several times.

What a hateful fellow.

But...

Hermione stared at the petite and cute girl with a little jealousy in her eyes.

Why is she so cute!

As the first-year students slowly walked into the center of the Great Hall, the sorting ceremony of Hogwarts' traditional project officially began.

"Hannah Abbott!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Susan Bones!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Terry Bout!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Melda Corris"

Professor McGonagall, holding a roll of parchment. Looking around, I waited for a long time, but no one responded.

"Melda Corris.

Seeing that no one responded, Professor McGonagall frowned and read aloud again.

"Melda Corris, does anyone know where Melda Corris is?"

"Who?"

"It's not like you're lost!"

As Professor McGonagall asked, the remaining freshmen began to chatter. Even the senior students on the side craned their necks, looking for the figure of a certain little wizard.

"You can't really get lost, right?"