“Harry, dodge!” Alex shouted, his voice filled with urgency as he watched the curse coming towards the young wizard.

“Stupid fool,” Voldemort sneered, his cold eyes locking onto Alex. “You wasted the opportunity I gave you. You don’t deserve to be my successor!” He raised his wand high, his voice filled with venom as he bellowed, “Avada Kedavra!”

“Alex, no!” Harry shouted, panic overtaking him. “Voldemort! Expelliarmus!” He tried to deflect the deadly curse, but the words barely left his mouth before the green light of the Killing Curse shot towards Alex.

The air seemed to freeze for a split second, as Voldemort’s voice rang out once again, “Avada Kedavra!”

The light before his eyes flickered. Sebastian suddenly opened his eyes, his body jerking upright as he instinctively reached for his side, only to feel emptiness. A moment of confusion gripped him. Then, the realization hit—he was no longer in the world he knew.

Breathing deeply, he exhaled slowly, allowing the tension to drain from his body as he sat on the edge of the bed.

His mind, still racing, began to sort through the fragments of memory. Alex—that was the name he had once carried in his previous life. But now, he was Sebastian Shaw. Six years had passed since his arrival in this strange new world, six years since he had inherited this body. The original owner had suffered a high fever at the age of ten and had never woken from it. And in that absence, the soul of Alex had taken over.

Of course, Alex—back in the Harry Potter world—was never truly from there. He had come from a place where both the Wizarding World and Marvel were nothing more than fiction: just stories in books and comics. Now, in this new life, he was Sebastian Shaw. And the world he found himself in? It was the Marvel Universe. The real deal. A time when Tony Stark was still just a reckless genius, not yet Iron Man.

Sebastian glanced at the clock on his nightstand—4:40 AM. With practiced quiet, he slipped out of bed and padded into the kitchen, careful not to wake his mom, who had only come home after midnight. He made himself a glass of honey lemon water, drank it in silence, then changed into his workout clothes and stepped outside into the cool early morning.

Jogging along the street’s edge had become a daily ritual for Sebastian. At this early hour, the roads were nearly empty, the world quiet, the air crisp—it was the perfect time to clear his mind.

Of course, that didn’t mean the streets were always safe. He’d run into the occasional gang looking for trouble, but his past life had prepared him well. The combat training he undertook to survive against Voldemort and the Death Eaters wasn’t just for show—it was the real deal. Practical. Brutal. Efficient.

Back in the wizarding world, Sebastian (then Alex) had come to understand that magical duels weren’t limited to wand waving and flashy spells. If you wanted to become an Auror, close-quarters combat and wand coordination were a must.

He wasn’t some unstoppable fighter—but against a couple of street thugs? He could hold his own. If there were more? He’d run. Simple.

As for his magic, everything had reset when he crossed into this world. He’d started from scratch again.

Due to the fusion of body remnants from two different worlds, Sebastian’s soul had become exceptionally powerful. In magic, both the growth rate and depth of magical power depend heavily on the strength of the soul. As a result, Sebastian’s magical growth was nearly double that of others his age. His current magical reserves had already reached the level of a young wizard just entering a magic school—despite being only six years into this new life.

Still, no matter how fast his power developed, six years of growth only got him so far. His capabilities remained limited to beginner-level spells. Stronger magic was simply out of reach for now.

And then there was the biggest hurdle—this world had no wands.

Without a wand to channel his magic, Sebastian was forced to rely solely on wandless casting. With lower amplification and control, even the simplest spells lost much of their punch, barely stronger than those cast by a third-rate magician.

If he hadn’t trained in wandless magic during his past life—fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters—he probably wouldn’t even be able to perform a spell at all.

When Sebastian returned home after his morning run at six o’clock, he immediately spotted his mother with messy hair, clearly not having bathed the night before, yawning as she busied herself with breakfast.

“Mom, if you’re that tired, I can make breakfast myself,” he said gently.

“Yawn… Baby, you’re so sweet,” Alisha Shaw smiled sleepily. “But I’m already not able to make lunch or dinner for you because of work. If I can’t even prepare breakfast, I’d feel like a failure as your mom.”

She walked over with a plate of bacon and eggs, leaned down to kiss Sebastian’s cheek, then placed the plate on the table. She brought over toast and milk as well, setting them in front of him before sitting down on the opposite side of the dining table.

For Sebastian, Alisha’s affection felt warm and comforting. Maybe it was the blood connection, or perhaps the fusion of his soul with this body—but he didn’t reject her closeness. In fact, he welcomed it.

In both his past lives—on Earth and in the Harry Potter world—he had been an orphan. This was the first time he had a mother. And he cherished every second of that love.

Alisha Shaw, Sebastian’s mother, was no ordinary woman—she was a three-star Michelin chef. Female chefs were already rare, but to be both stunning in her thirties and wildly successful in such a demanding field made her something of a celebrity. Naturally, her job kept her extremely busy. She started work at 10 every morning and often didn’t return home until after 9 or 10 at night. Getting off early was a luxury, while working overtime was the norm.

Sebastian had once asked about his father, but Alisha always hesitated or deflected the question. Eventually, he stopped pressing her for answers. In his heart, she was all the family he had—and that was enough.

“Mom, if you’re tired, just take a break for a while,” Sebastian said, concerned. “Not even other Michelin-starred chefs work themselves this hard.”

Alisha smiled softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Sweetheart, don’t worry about me. Just wait until I’ve saved enough for your college. Now, it’s getting late—you should head to school.”

College tuition in the U.S., especially for top universities, was notoriously expensive. Books, fees, housing—it all added up fast. Most families relied on loans to get their kids through. But Alisha didn’t want that burden falling on Sebastian. Thankfully, with her chef’s salary, which now included shares in the restaurant, she earned quite a bit. If it weren’t for the debts she had to repay from her earlier years, paying for Sebastian’s education wouldn’t be a problem at all.

Still, she bore it all with quiet strength, driven by love. And Sebastian, no matter how mature or self-reliant he felt, was deeply grateful for everything she did.

After rinsing his mouth and popping a piece of chewing gum, Sebastian waved goodbye to Alisha and headed out the door.

He hopped onto his bicycle and pedaled toward Midtown Science and Technology High School, just a short ride from home.

Along the way, he passed several classmates, casually greeting them with nods and waves. After locking his bike in the school’s parking area, Sebastian slung his backpack over one shoulder and made his way toward the teaching building.

In the hallway, a large electronic display was playing a loop of promotional videos featuring renowned scientists, scholars, and entrepreneurs.

“Tony Stark,” the narrator’s voice echoed through the corridor, “a famous contemporary scientist, entrepreneur, and philanthropist. Graduated from MIT at the age of 17 with PhDs in mechanical engineering, electrical engineering, and physics…”

Sebastian cast a brief glance at the screen, then turned his attention to a friend approaching from the other end of the hallway. They exchanged a quick handshake, bumping shoulders in that casual, familiar way, and walked together to the lockers.

He tucked his backpack away, pulled out the books and pens he needed for his first class, and joined the small groups of students trickling into the classrooms in twos and threes.

And just like that, another peaceful school day began.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep