1 Reincarnated as Harry Potter

Before I knew it, I was falling.

An endless abyss, devoid of light or sound, engulfs me. My descent was cold and quiet, punctuated only by an unnerving weightlessness. My unremarkable life has ended just like that. Death, it seemed, was neither blissful nor torturous, merely indifferent.

A disembodied, surprisingly British-accent voice spoke from the void, its tone oddly cheerful. 

"Sorry to interrupt your internal monologue, Mr. Jansen, but your reincarnation is imminent."

Another life? That's definitely the start of this story, isn't it? Before I could muster a response, however, the voice continued:

"Please choose any superpowers, cheats or otherwise for your next life, as well as the fictional universe you wish to be born into. Specific time, location and difficulty as that would be ideal."

...now this had to be some mass-produced wish fulfillment fantasy - there's no narrative reason for cheats being so easy. Yet, there's just too much to consider, even if I could chose anything...

"In death, one merely exists as a thought, sir," the voice preempted. "Do take your time."

Convenient, a tad lazy, perhaps. Not that I'm complaining. From my memories of movies, books and games, I recalled Dr Manhattan building a palace on Mars, Jack Frost gliding through the snowy night and our team's narcissistic Yasuo dying his tenth time.

Yet, like a curse, a different character came to mind. A boy with startling green eyes, messy black hair and a signature lightning bolt scar etched upon his forehead. In the world of bastardized Latin magic, man-turn-animals and giant rhinos that can explode you…

"Harry Potter in, well, the Harry Potter world."

The nostalgic name sent a tingle down my nonexistent spine. Meeting Luna, casting spells with a flick of my wrist and bullying the soul-split Dark Lord... the greatest dream of my childhood, finally within reach.

"A great choice sir," the voice affirmed. "Do you have a specific time in mind?"

"Just before Harry's sent to Hogwarts."

No need to have the full traumatic protagonist experience, just the good parts. That is to say, right on the day he's free from the Dursley.

"King's Cross station, platform 9¾, I presume?"

"Precisely. And one more thing… Can I keep Harry's plot armor? Just as a little safety net."

A brief silence followed, then the voice conceded.

"As you wish, sir. Potter's 'Protagonist Invincibility' would remain unchanged. The world is forbidden to permanently maim or control you. However, it is allowed to inflict 'traumatic character growth' -this means your acquaintances and friends would permanently be vulnerable as long as they are by your side."

So, comically invincible? Though, I do need to learn defensive magic for anyone I bring along.

"Got it. For superpowers... I'd like eidetic memory, talent for wandless magic, and the ability to summon an object from another fictional world."

I continued despite sensing a figurative sigh.

"Oh instant access to the Harry Potter Wiki wouldn't hurt either."

"Added, sir. The difficulty is now adjusted to: 'intro'. Which is Super Easy, Barley an Inconvenience. Your reincarnation settings are confirmed, transporting in progress…"

A blue screen filled my vision, with the infamous loading bar slowly filling up.

20%... 60%... 99%... and complete.

I felt my physical body solidifying with its sight, sound and smell slowly returning. Assaulting my senses are the clatter of wheels and the rumble of engines along with a strong, smoky aroma - likely from all the burning coal.

In the distance, the the Dursleys' car rumbled away, leaving me between platforms 9 and 10 - along with, of course, the bustling chaos of a London train station. Brits of all shapes and sizes hurried past, dragging trolleys and lugging suitcases. Even after experiencing Tokyo station at rush hour, finding the famous 9¾ in this dense crowd seemed nigh impossible.

Just then, a voice conveniently rang out. "Alright, Percy, you first." I followed the familiar sound to a clearly wizardry family, adorned with an uncanny sense of fashion and bright, red hair that could qualify them for a scam about a century prior. A pair of squabbling twins and their nervous younger brother stood bundled with luggage.

"Fred, you next," obviously-Molly-Weasley instructed, causing both to do their twin-talk quip in response. The scene plays out exactly as Rowling's descriptions in "Philosopher's Stone". Is Dumbledore subtly nudging me towards the Weasley as per fanfic logic?

Whatever the case, not wanting to draw more attention, I discreetly approached the invisible barrier. A bushy-haired girl with prominent front teeth caught my eye as I neared it. Her gaze was a mix of curiosity and nervous excitement, and she seemed intent on studying this bit of magic.

"Are you a wizard as well?" Hermione whispered, her voice high-pitched and eager. "It's for Hogwarts, you know. Walk straight through the wall and be careful not to slow down or hesitate, otherwise you'll bounce right back. It says so right here - in Hogwarts: A History."

I smiled at she casually flips through the thick book and points at the exact line.

"Thanks, appreciate the tip."

The high tension Hermione, brimming with nervous energy and genuine excitement, was a stark contrast to my collected self. I knew what was to come, and probably more about the girl's potential than herself.

Taking a deep breath, I closed in on the barrier with quick steps. A seemingly impenetrable bricked wall loomed before me - and with a silent affirmation, I closed my eyes and ran my trolley straight through.

A cool curtain enveloped me, followed by the unmistakable puffing steam and excited chatter. When I opened my eyes again, I saw the unmistakable crimson Hogwarts Express rolling its wheels to a stop on the tracks, a sight much more magnificent than the movies. The magic from hundreds of young witches and wizards, complete with flying trunks and caged owls, brought a grin to my face. This was it - the beginning of all the innocence, dreams and magic, where anything is possible.

As I walked onto the train and settled into an empty compartment, Hermione bumped into me yet again, her eyes wide in wonder. "Did you see it?" she exclaimed, her voice breathless. "It's incredible, isn't it? My name's Hermione Granger, by the way, and I've already practiced a few charms before school myself. Not all successfully, mind you, but still..."

Her rapid-fire monologue reminded me of our destined encounter on the train. I could've sworn I heard Ron's exasperated sigh.

"And I'm Harry, just Harry." I replied with a slight grin - it's good to keep our first interactions normal. It soon proved needless as Hermione, oblivious to my identity, continued chattering with an infectious enthusiasm. The train finally jolted, signalling its departure, as myself and a bushy-haired bookworm shared a brief silence as London's landscape recede into the distance.