I woke up, still a little sleepy. I looked at the side of the bed, and standing there was already Seely, my house-elf, already waiting for me to start the day, just as she has been doing since I got her when I was four years old.

She's the cutest and most helpful being I've ever met, and if I hadn't known that house-elves need wizard magic to survive, I would have freed her a long time ago, and hired her to serve as my maid.

"Master Hugo, are you ready to get ready yet?"

"Sure Seely. Can start"

In a matter of minutes, I was ready to start the day, when I left my room, which was in the east wing of the mansion, headed towards the kitchen to have breakfast with the rest of the family, I passed my sister's room who still seemed to be sleeping, so I decided to take a look.

As I imagined, she was still sleeping and face down in a tangle of sheets in her crib. My grandmother used to say that she never knew a child to have such a predisposition to be messy whether she was awake or asleep.

So much so that she still slept in a crib even though she was more than three years old.

The several falls that she had in the middle of the night put her in this.

More than three years have passed since I learned that my mother was pregnant. I remember that I was thrilled that finally, I would have someone to share all the attention I received from my family.

And finally, I could sneak around the house, pioneering through forbidden knowledge and long-forgotten treasures.

That kind of logic always gave me a break.

I realized a long time ago that my current body has a profound influence on my psyche.

Especially in my early years, for example, I didn't feel or had any perverted or complicated thoughts like thinking about the future.

Now I lived much longer in the present than when I was an adult, but that is perhaps why the passage of time seems to be much longer today.

And I still felt attraction and admiration for beautiful women, make no mistake, but nothing that comes close to what it was during my adolescence and adulthood.

But for better or worse I will get there in a few years, I just hope I will be able to have sex before I turn twenty.

But going back to my thinking about my psyche, I noticed that I became much more childish than I expected. It is small things like my previous desire that sometimes raises the alarm.

My desire to seek forbidden knowledge and hidden treasures were born mainly from the constant lack of freedom and the passion that it aroused for me.

I couldn't sneak a little near the library or any more exciting place where my mother would appear out of nowhere and bring me back to her side.

I was sure the house-elves were snitching.

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But when little Samara was born, I finally got a bit more freedom.

However, my entry into the library was still prohibited because I had books enchanted with ancient and dangerous magic or knowledge that I was not old enough to know.

At least, according to my parents.

But there were still subjects that I was allowed to read, such as Muggle literature, and history of magic, history of our family, which was aided by family portraits.

Which, by the way, were a fantastic source of information and scandals from the past.

Wizards are a little crazy.

The period leading up to my mother's pregnancy was filled with an atmosphere of sadness, suspense, and at times deep despair.

I was small, but I still managed to capture many things, mainly because it was linked to my family's survival and myself, not that I could do anything about it.

Speaking of which, I will guarantee that in my next world, I reincarnated as an adult, being a child is so frustrating.

From what you got from family conversations, the situation was much worse than you remembered from the books.

Voldemort had managed to take power in the ministry partially and put a puppet minister in his place, just as he did in the seventh book.

But he had not yet shown himself to the public, mainly because it was more beneficial for him to be evil in the dark than to go public.

Dumbledore had been ambushed by dozens of death eaters and Voldemort himself. Still, he managed to escape with the help of his phoenix, but not before killing more than half the forces that met Voldemort at that time.

The Aurors who arrived a few minutes after the sensors that indicate a high concentration of magic in the area said that they could not get close to the place, due to the breadth and devastation of battle.

I heard my father say that sensors from all over Europe were able to detect the concentration of magic.

Such a thing had not happened since 1944 since the duel of Dumbledore and Grindelwald.

The country was about to go into secession and headed towards widespread civil war; many nobles and gentlemen did not agree with the state of affairs. They were planning to go to war to withdraw the puppet minister and retake power.

Of course, one of them was my father. We still had considerable strength despite my uncle's betrayal, and many always respected my late grandfather.

But without Dumbledore, there was no magician capable of coming face to face with Voldemort, at least not in Great Britain.

So we were all kind of at an impasse.

We had no news from Dumbledore, but the rumors were that he had been seriously injured.

But it did not last long, and news soon came out that the One Who Should Not Be Named had fallen into the hands of a child who was younger than me.

I knew who he was, the first son of the now-deceased Lord Potter.

Who was now an orphan!

Dumbledore returned, but was now mangled without a hand, which had been burned by black magic, and had to be amputated.

Soon after, the heir Potter disappeared with his godfather Sirius Black, and so far, no one knows his whereabouts.

And even after Voldemort's supposed death, the country was still in tension.

Since it was an open secret, more than a third of the entire Wizengamot, supported Voldemort's terror actions under the hood.

Even though they knew that tyranny would give way to the current oligarchy, they were blinded by extremism or by the offer of more power and wealth. It was known that Voldemort would not be so powerful in a natural way.

Of course, some were just threatened, blackmailed, tortured, and used by the Imperious curse. Voldemort had an extensive range of convincing ways.

For all the evils that Voldemort was contested to be, it could not be denied that he was a genius at manipulation. He always knew what to offer to those he wanted by his side. 

And those who rejected it merely eliminated, generating more fear and more comfortable to manipulate its next victims.

But coming back from my daydream, today would be a particular day. Today I would be seven years old, and it would be the day when I would be introduced to the wizarding society as my father's heir. I would start to create bonds between my peers.

It would also be the day that I would meet the Ministry and Wizengamot, take my oath to my home, and place the heir ring of the Falkor house in front of the assembly custom.

And looking at my sister and thinking about what the future could bring for my family and me, I couldn't help but smile with all its dangers and difficulties.

That was what I always wanted, a life of adventure, and conquests, a life worth living.

And I can't wait.