Hexes, Jinxes & Past Glimpses.

Chapter 2: Target Found

He was spinning.

The only color he could see was white. A brief thought from his astronomy class: because of light distribution, when a colorful image spins too fast, all the human eye can see is white. It means it has surpassed the human limit to recognise color.

Limits. Weaknesses. No more.

But he couldn't stop spinning.

He didn't know for how long this was happening. Could have been seconds, minutes, hours. His head was a mess, he had lost all sense of time while he was freefalling into the abyss.

No air, no sound. Absolutely nothing.

The nausea was taking over, and his body was in pain. He felt like his skin burned. His eyes were blurry and his scalp felt like needles were piercing him.

A thud.

He had landed somewhere, yet his head was still fucking spinning.

Eyes closed, he cradled his head and breathed heavily, to steady himself, when -

Hair.

Curls, to be exact. He felt them, soft between his fingers. He hesitantly opened his eyes. His vision was still a bit blurry, and his head was still kind of spinning. His stomach turned, but one thing was for sure. He had hair. And the sight before him, ensured him his plan had worked.

No, not plan. The plan is having no plan.

Still, the sight before him was surreal. He was in his Hogwarts dorm room. In the dungeons.

His room was clean, everything was in order. It seemed empty, in comparison with other rooms. It seemed like the vacant rooms at the start of the school year, before they occupy first year students. The only signs of someone living there, were an organised stack of books on the bookshelf and a single sheet of paper with a sketch of a creature. The Basilisk.

He opened his wardrobe, to find a few clothes inside. Seven pairs of the same black sweaters, seven pairs of the same black trousers, seven pairs of black socks, seven pairs of black underwear, and seven slytherin robes.

He reminded himself his reasoning; one for each day of the week. On Sunday night, he would make sure his clothes were clean for next week. Black clothing also seemed smart, and went with everything. It also absorbed the sun rays better than any other color, technically making it the warmest color to wear. In the weather conditions of Scotland, any type of help staying warm was welcomed. It was efficient.

A low chuckle escaped his lips, regarding how his logic worked, and how something that made complete sense to him made zero sense to other people. However, that caught him off guard. His voice was different, and this reminded him - yet again - that he had transformed back into his teenage self.

He sprinted towards the nearest mirror. His legs were more powerful than he remembered. He had a new - or should he say old - agility.

He looked - normal.

Soft dark curls, the ones he felt before, framed his face. His skin was pale, but not the sickly pale, greenish one he was used to. A pale, human, healthy skintone. His eyes weren't slits anymore. They were almond shaped and greener than the oak trees at the start of the Forbidden Forest.