Aditya Singhania come to knew that time behaves differently around him.
Not the poetic kind of different - no dramatic pauses or prophecies echo but the very measurable kind. Percentages, progress bars, invisible clock ticking somewhere just behind his eyes.
Aditya Singhania was never bad at magic.
That misconception irritated his relatives far more than it ever bothered him.
From the time he could hold a wand, spells worked for him. Sparks responded cleanly, objects lifted when commanded, and accidental magic came with precision rather than chaos. His father, Edmund Singhania, a British wizard with a meticulous approach to spellwork, often remarked that Aditya's magical core felt unusually stable for a child his age.
The problem wasn't talent.
It was direction.
Magic came easily—but not optimally. Aditya improved faster than most children, yet progress felt… wasteful. He repeated spells that no longer challenged him, reread theory he had already internalized, and practiced without knowing whether he was improving or simply reinforcing habits.
His mother, Ananya Singhania, watched these sessions with an analytical eye. She was not a witch, but she understood systems.
"You're strong," she said once, pouring tea while he practiced wand motions. "But you're guessing. Guessing wastes time."
Aditya agreed.
The day the numbers appeared, he was reorganizing his practice on instinct alone. He set his wand aside, closed his eyes, and tried to conceptualize improvement instead of blindly repeating movements.
That was when the air in front of him flickered.
[Training Slot Unlocked]Task Assigned: Foundational Wand ControlProgress: 0%
Aditya stared—not in panic, but in focus.
He lifted his wand and executed the movement again.
The feedback was immediate. Not physical correction, but clarity. His posture refined itself, the wand angle adjusted microscopically, and magic flowed with slightly less resistance.
Progress: 2%
He tested it methodically.
Each repetition increased the number. Each improvement was incremental but undeniable. The system didn't inflate his ability—it tracked it. Optimized it.
By evening, the task sat at 31%, and Aditya understood something fundamental.
This wasn't power.
It was structure.
From then on, he trained with precision. Spells went into slots. Theory became passive tasks. Mental discipline quietly accumulated progress overnight. His natural talent accelerated everything, compounding into frightening efficiency.
Neither parent noticed anything unnatural—only that Aditya's growth curve had sharpened dramatically.
The Hogwarts letter arrived exactly when expected.
Aditya read it once, then felt the system react.
[New Environment Detected: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry]Training Potential Unlocked]
He didn't smile. He planned.
On September first, King's Cross buzzed with chaos. While navigating the crowd, Aditya nearly collided with two red-haired boys loudly debating whether fireworks counted as "educational materials."
"Whoa—new face!" one said.
"First year?" the other asked, already dragging him toward the train.
Fred and George Weasley claimed a compartment like it was conquered territory. As the Hogwarts Express pulled away, Aditya settled in, listening, observing.
His system ticked quietly.
Hogwarts awaited.
And Aditya Singhania was already ahead of the curve.