3 the way of the arcane

I knew it was pointless to argue. So i simply replied in a monotone voice:" yes uncle vernon. I know." Suddenly dudley rushed out from behind me. I saw this and sighed.

He started sobbing like a f*ing d-list actor. Enter a wild petunia.:"oh my boy! Oh what happened?? Did anyone try to hurt you. My baby." GOD! Do i really have to sit through this f*ing soap opera. Just give me some chores or some shit as punishment and be done with this charade. Dudley chimed in:"sob.. Mommy... Sob. Harry hurt me. *insert wailing banshee noises. * he punched me in the face. *screeching continues*"

Vernon immediately turned to me his face turning beet red. Petunia gave me her signature death stare. And Dudley looked at me from the sidelines with what can only be assumed a sly grin. I looked at the tridfecta with a deadpan.

Now I see the resemblance.

Vernon's voice immediately went up an octave as he screamed:" you freak!!! You hurt MY boy ."

I replied with a sigh:" uncle vernon. There isn't a single bruise on Dudley's body Much less on his face. Besides my whole body mass is less than probably a fraction of dudley's arms mass. If i punched him my fingers would look like eggplant on asphalt."

Of course he knew that. But the dursleys' weren't big on logic. His face immediately scrunched up by a whole factor. eyes bulging and cheeks turning from Valentine pink to tomato red:" are you calling my precious duddy-kins a liar, U FREAK!!!!!"

I really should not have fallen for that. But in my defense the freak calling was seriously starting to get on my nerves.

"Oh my. And here I thought Dudley was the brains of the family. "

You could imagine how that went over.

Soon I was sitting in the porch outside. I was tasked with lifting the drills into uncle Vernon's car trunk. Near the porch on the fence was a bowl of soggy oatmeal, my dinner.

I sighed as I looked up. The night sky shone brightly with stars. The lonely and dimly lit street provided the backdrop. A beautiful sight to behold. I let out another sigh as I looked down.

The drills each weighed over 30 pound. This was my punishment for insulting his holiness Dudley Dursley. To any other child this task should be near impossible. But I wasn't any other child.

I took a deep breath as I summoned a.... force...for the lack of better words from within. The arcane coursed through my veins. My eyes sharpened as my mind focused. My emotions burned as they fuelled my intent. I lifted my hand and pointed it at the the thirty pound drill. Colourless transperant energy waves emerged from the drill sending bursts of force outside. The drill slowly rose in the air. I simply tilted my finger sideways and the drill flew like a cork into the car's trunk.

That's right. Like any self respecting transmigration I too had figured a unique way of using accidental magic. But it hadn't been an easy path. I had tried many of the bullshit fan fiction theories like occlumency by meditation, wandless spellcrafting, rune magic. I even fucking tried summoning the potter family elf!!! (don't ask!). Let me reassure that those techniques, just as fore-mentioned were nothing but bullshit.

Think about it like this. I mean how on earth can a single person one day on a fly invent a technique that's never been seen by hundreds of generations before who have been developing this art for thousands of years. Oh! you have developed a new way to use rune magic that even geniuses like Dumbledore, grindelwald and voldemort failed to know? Well guess what, you are just a wish fulfillment self insert character created by some nerd fan fiction writer stuck in their mom's basement!!

Wait could I also be the wish fulfillment of some loser writing fan fictions???? Nope! Nope! No breaking the fourth wall. Those things cost way too much to repair.

Right. back to my story. So what I am doing here is pushing out pure magic to act as an extension of my own will. An idiot will be all like 'yay Telekinesis'. But no. There is nothing yay about this technique. I was using magic without any qualitative or quantitative change. This was the single most wasteful use of magic. But for now this was the sole technique at my disposal.

One by one the drills were lifted and placed in the car trunk. This might have a been a wasteful pathetic way of utilizing magic. But this little activity provided me with the necessary control over my magic that would help me achieve a lot later down the line. But more to that later.

One by one they went in the trunk until I reached the final one. This one wasn't the usual 30 pound model CP22 rock drill. this one was a 50 pound Godzilla. This one was trouble. It as slightly above my weight class. I needed all of my focus for this one. I slowly took a deep breath. I cleared my mind from all irrelevant thoughts, an exercise I learned from my time trying to learn occlumency on my own (damn you isekai writers!!!!!!) and I focused on the drill. Potent magic emboldened by my intent burst out and surrounded the drill. With all my power I willed the drill to lift. And it started to take off in wobbly steps. It slowly moved from its original position in a wobbly fashion.

Aaaaand the drill came crashing right down. I clutched my head to stop the splitting headache. I sat down silently groaning from the immense pain I was experiencing. Fuck.

And then I got up. I suddenly found my inner strength to battle my demons. Strength coursed through my entire body as my will became emboldened, golden aura emitting until I became...a super Saiyan..... pfffft...HAAAAhahhAhaaaaa. oh my God. Almost got you didn't I. What am I, a shounen protagonist? No of course not. This was real life. Not a fucking anime. The power of friendship does not save the day. Logic does.

I sat down. I had tried my utmost in honing my instincts. Magic was the combination of intent, emotion and magical power. It was impossible to hone my intent to a further degree. My Magic Power grows with my age. Which left.... Emotion.

I knew what I had to do. Hell I had experimented with this particular method before. But no matter how many times I did it. I still didn't hate it any less.

Stimulating an emotion is next to impossible. So we do the next best thing. Harry Potter had powered up his stag patronus not by happiness, but by a happy memory. But this spell wasn't restricted to any one particular emotion. My telekinesis was versatile. So I could use any memory in my mind. But I knew that there was only one memory that could power a spell this big.... My worst memory...