My name was Purushottam. It meant 'the best among men,' a cruel joke played by hopeful parents on a son who was, by every conceivable metric, spectacularly average. I lived a small, quiet life, a face in a crowd of billions, with no particular talents, no burning passions, and a future that stretched out like a straight, grey motorway. I was a nobody.
Then, I died.
It wasn't dramatic. No lorry, no sudden illness, no heroic sacrifice, nothing cringy or corny like in those reincarnation novels. One moment I was there, the next I simply… wasn't. And what came after was not darkness, nor a tunnel of light, but an expanse of silent, breathtaking majesty.
I floated, a point of consciousness in an ethereal sea. Below, above, and all around me was the cosmos in its raw, untamed glory. Nebulae bloomed like watercolour flowers in the void, their hues of amethyst and cerulean swirling around nascent stars. Galaxies spun in slow, graceful pirouettes, their spiral arms dusted with diamond-bright suns. Cosmic dust formed veils that shimmered with latent energy. It was terrifying and beautiful in equal measure, a symphony of creation played on an infinite scale.
Before me, the starlight and nebular gases coalesced, weaving themselves into a form that was both a man and far more. He had four heads, each looking towards a cardinal direction, his eyes holding the patience of mountains and the spark of new suns. He was seated on a lotus that bloomed from the very fabric of space, and in his hands, he held the Vedas, not as books, but as living, shifting patterns of light.
I knew him. Every child in India, even a lapsed, agnostic one like me, knew the iconography.
"Lord Brahma," I whispered, the thought forming without sound.
*Purushottam,* a voice echoed, not in my ears, but in the very core of my being. It was the sound of a billion lives beginning. *Your journey in that realm has concluded. It was… peaceful. Unremarkable.*
"There's no need to sugar-coat it," I thought back, a strange calm settling over me. "I was a nobody."
*To the world, perhaps,* Brahma conceded, a hint of a smile in his cosmic voice. *But every consciousness holds potential. It is merely a question of soil and season. You are now presented with a choice. You may merge back into the cosmic whole, or you may be reincarnated into a new world, one of your choosing.*
A new world. My mind, so long dormant, sparked to life. The possibilities were endless. But only one felt like *home*, a home I had never visited but had lived in a thousand times through ink and paper.
"The wizarding world," I said, the decision firm and instant. "From the Harry Potter books."
Brahma's four heads nodded in unison. *A world of wonder and significant turmoil. A curious choice.*
"I don't want the turmoil," I stated clearly. "I don't want to be a hero, or a sidekick, or get involved with Harry Potter's trauma-filled adventures. I just want to… live. To explore that magic, to understand it. I want a quiet life, but with the means to not be a bystander if trouble finds me."
*A wise distinction,* Brahma mused. *To seek peace is not to seek weakness. Very well. And your family?*
I thought fast. I didn't want the pressure of being a Malfoy or the poverty of a Weasley (as endearing as they were). I wanted old magic, legacy, but something obscure enough to grant me anonymity.
"The Le Fay family," I said, recalling the name of Morgana Le Fay. "Make me the last heir. Let there be a history, but no living relatives to have expectations."
*It shall be so. You will be born as Theseus Le Fay. Is there anything else you desire? A boon, to ease your path?*
This was it. The moment to ask for what my mundane life had lacked: a path to something deeper, something real. I had spent years, in my own shallow way, fascinated by the concepts of inner energy I'd read about in half-understood philosophical texts.
"Yes," I said, my consciousness blazing with sudden purpose. "Two things. First, I want the true, complete method to awaken the seven inner chakras within a person, as described in our oldest texts. Not a metaphor, not an exercise. The real key to unlocking the energy within."
Brahma's eyes glimmered with interest. *A quest for inner mastery. A foundation upon which any external magic can be strengthened. And the second?*
This one was more audacious, born from a love of mythology that far outstripped my love for my own life. "The Tandava," I said, the word feeling dangerous and powerful on my non-existent tongue. "The instructions, the steps, the meaning behind the cosmic dance of Lord Shiva. I want to learn the Dance of Destruction and Creation."
For the first time, Brahma seemed genuinely surprised. One of his heads tilted. *The Tandava is not a mere sequence of steps, child. It is the rhythm of the universe. To learn it is to hold the power to unmake and remake reality. It is a burden few could bear.*
"I don't want to use it," I pleaded. "I just want to *understand* it. To know that such a thing is possible. Please."
Silence stretched, filled only by the distant roar of a supernova. Then, Brahma smiled. *Your desires are not for power over others, but for knowledge of the self and the cosmos. This is a worthy path. I grant you your boons. The knowledge is sealed within your soul, to be uncovered as you grow and are ready.*
He raised a hand. The cosmos around us began to spin, the stars blurring into streaks of light. *Go now, Theseus Le Fay. Live your quiet life. Seek your adventure within. We will be watching.*
The universe collapsed into a single, brilliant point of light, and then, into darkness.
***
The next thing I knew was the soft warmth of a blanket and the scent of lavender and old parchment. I was a baby, swaddled in a magically expanding crib, in a house that felt more like a library that had learned to grow rooms. The Le Fay family home was a hidden, sentient cottage in a forgotten corner of the Welsh countryside, warded to the point of invisibility.
My childhood was quiet, solitary, and perfect. I was raised by a small battalion of diligent, silent House-elves who referred to me as "Young Master Theseus" and by the ghost of a former librarian, a wistful witch named Elara who would point a translucent finger at the books I should read next.
And I read. Merlin, I read. The Le Fay library was a treasure trove of forgotten magics, of alchemical texts, of histories that contradicted the ones in *A History of Magic*. I learned of my supposed ancestry, of Morgana and her complicated legacy, not as a cartoon villainess, but as a powerful, misunderstood witch. The family vault, I discovered via a goblin letter on my eleventh birthday, was modest but respectable, filled with gold, a few fascinating artefacts, and no looming, dark portraits to judge me.
It was on a bright July morning, as I was practicing basic wandless levitation in the sun-drenched conservatory (a skill the library insisted was a lost Le Fay trait), that a sharp tap-tap-tap came at the enchanted stained-glass window.
A large, tawny owl waited patiently, a heavy envelope of yellowish parchment clutched in its beak. My heart did a funny little flip-flop. I knew what this was. I'd been waiting, with a mixture of excitement and anxiety, for this very moment.
I took the letter, my name and address written in a familiar, emerald-green ink.
*Mr. T. Le Fay*
*The Conservatory*
*Le Fay Cottage*
*Pembrokeshire, Wales*
I broke the scarlet wax seal and unfolded the parchment.
**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**
*Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)*
*Dear Mr. Le Fay,*
*We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.*
*Yours sincerely,*
*Minerva McGonagall*
*Deputy Headmistress*
A slow, genuine smile spread across my face. Ravenclaw. It had to be. The house of wit, learning, and wisdom. A place where my quest for knowledge wouldn't seem odd. A place where I could hopefully avoid the epicentre of the coming storm.
"Bippy!" I called.
With a soft *crack*, a small House-elf with large, bat-like ears and wearing a neat pillowcase towel appeared. "Yes, Master Theseus?"
"Please send a reply to Hogwarts. I accept."
Another *crack*, and he was gone. I looked down at the letter again, then at the list of required supplies. Diagon Alley. Today was the day I would step into the wider wizarding world for the first time. My quiet life was about to get a lot more interesting. The adventure, my own personal adventure of discovery, was finally beginning.