After breakfast, Cael grabbed his worn-out school bag and made the short walk to the small community school near the orphanage. The hours passed slowly, each class dragging like a snail through molasses. Arithmetic. Vocabulary. Geography. He already knew most of this from his previous life, and pretending to take notes felt more like theatre than learning.
Four hours of boredom later, he returned to the orphanage and quietly made his way toward Miss Linda's office. Her door, like always, was half-closed. He knocked gently.
"Come in," came the warm voice from inside.
He stepped in and sat on the little wooden chair across from her desk. Miss Linda—Mama Linda, as everyone called her—was tidying up a stack of donation letters.
She looked up and smiled. "What's the matter, my boy? Is school alright? No one's bullying you again, are they? If something's bothering you, you can always tell me."
Cael paused. Her voice was soft, motherly. And for a moment, it wasn't his second life speaking—but the old soul within him that felt the weight of what the original Cael had suffered. He realized suddenly—the boy had been bullied, hadn't he? Quiet, lonely, unnoticed.
He offered a small smile. "No, Mama. Everything's fine. I just wanted to ask if I could go to the library after school. To read a few books… if that's okay."
Miss Linda's face brightened immediately. "Ah, well now, that's wonderful to hear! Reading is good for the soul. It's nice to see you wanting to get out a bit more. Go on, then—the library's just a few streets away. If Mrs. Whitmore, the librarian, asks, tell her you're from here. She won't charge you. She's an old friend."
Cael stood up and gave her a small nod. "Thank you, Mama."
"Be back before it gets dark, alright?"
"I will."
Later That Day
On his way toward the library, Cael munched on a small slice of vanilla cake he'd bought from a street cart. The System's voice chimed casually.
"So, what's the plan? You heading to Diagon Alley now?"
"No," Cael muttered between bites. "If I skip the library too soon, Mama Linda will catch on. She's sharp, and if she starts watching me too closely, I'll lose my freedom. Better to lay low for now. Wait until the right moment."
"Strategic thinking," the System replied. "Not bad. Maybe you won't be a complete failure after all."
Cael didn't bother responding.
The library was quiet, dim, and smelled of old paper and floor polish. As he walked in, a tall, sharp-featured woman glanced at him over the rim of her glasses.
"Are you lost, young man?" she asked, sternly.
Cael bowed his head slightly. "Hello, madam. Miss Linda said I could come read here—she said you were a friend?"
The librarian's expression softened. "Ah. From the Vale Orphanage, are you? Alright. You may use the lower shelves—those are for younger readers. Just don't damage the books."
"Yes, madam."
With that, he passed the first phase of his plan. Every day for the next week, Cael returned to the library, always on time, always with a book in hand. But behind the pages of Dickens and Tolkien, his real work was in motion—studying maps of London, tracing bookshops on Charing Cross Road, cross-referencing every scrap of memory from his past life.
By the seventh day, he was sure.
"The Leaky Cauldron is in Central London… tucked between two shops. I've got to go there myself."
A Few Days Later – Central London
It was a bright afternoon when Cael boarded a bus alone, claiming to be going to the library as usual. Instead, he clutched his notes and a small map he'd marked in pencil. As the bus rattled down the main streets, he stared out the window, butterflies buzzing in his stomach.
When he finally arrived at Charing Cross Road, he stepped off and looked around.
Books. Everywhere.
Rows upon rows of bookshops lined the street. New books. Rare books. Dusty shops with handwritten signs.
Cael whistled. "Damn. That's a lot of bookstores."
"Of course there are," the System said dryly. "It's not 2025 yet. No one's glued to their phones watching TikTok or sliding through Instagram reels. This is a time when people actually read."
"Fair enough. Give it a decade, and all of these will be phone repair shops."
As Cael turned the corner, he bumped into someone—hard.
"Oi, watch it, mate!" the man barked.
Cael looked up—and the stranger peered down. "What're you doing here, little girl? Lost? I'll help you find your parents."
Cael stiffened. "I'm not a girl. I'm a boy. And I don't need help."
The man raised a brow and chuckled. "Alright then, little girl. Suit yourself."
He walked off without another word.
Cael stared after him with a scowl. "What the hell was that about?"
The System chuckled.
"Aw, did your feelings get hurt being called a little girl?"
"Shut up. That guy gave off weird energy."
"Tsk tsk. Misogynistic and paranoid. You're just full of surprises today."
Cael rolled his eyes. "I'm not a misogynist. I just didn't like being mistaken for a girl. Or a 'little' anything."
"Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that, sweetie."
Cael sighed and scanned the street ahead.
"Alright. Let's find this damn place."
And with that, he pushed forward, deeper into the heart of London… where magic was waiting—just behind a wall he hadn't yet learned how to see.