It seems I got distracted again... Now, where was I? Remember! I need to collect my thoughts and again analyse the data I have.

«Well, you’ve got to be kidding!»  I outraged after a while. « Why does all this happen to me?»  I ask a rhetorical question into the void.

To put so much energy into overcoming difficulties in order to think in silence. But as it turns out, there’s nothing to think about. In fact, there’s a lot to think about, but to think about what I want, I can’t because of a banal lack of sufficient amount of information. And the most unpleasant thing is that I just understood this.

«And what to do? What should I do?»  in a frenzy, I have begun repeating the same question, slowly flying into rage because of the fact that my thoughts, like scared rabbits, run through my head. All this outrage is stopped by a memory that has come from the depths of memory.

«I felt very bad; the eyes didn’t want to open. Overcoming me, I again and again tried to open them because I felt that it was important and that I wanted to see something with my eyes. I don’t remember how it happened, but I managed to do this.

At first, nothing could be seen because the scales blanketed my eyes, but then, with an effort, blinking with increasing horror, I looked at the environment. What I’ve seen harshly helped me quickly come to my senses, and even something in my head has cleared.

A staggering picture of the boundless Cosmos opened up to my frozen gaze. With the vain hope that I had merely imagined this, I began to blink intensely. But my attempt, full of naivety, failed; the Cosmos surrounding me from all sides, to my great regret, didn’t go anywhere.

Cosmos charmed by its pristine beauty, and I stared at it in admiring fashion, completely forgetting about the pressing problems and the fact that it’ wasn’t normal to hang like this somewhere in the expanses of Cosmos.

I don’t know how long I would have hung like that, immersed in contemplation, but a terrible thing happened. It’s not known how long it would have lasted if, twitching like an epileptic, I hadn’t accidentally seen the body stretched out on a wheeled bed.

Here's some strangeness that I didn't pay attention to at the time. The body was at the same time somewhere far below, and at the same time I could get a good look at it, as if it lay at arm's length.

«Stop!» I mentally exclaimed because I caught something on the periphery of consciousness.

To my great surprise, the picture immediately stood still. Afraid of scaring away luck, I politely asked, I don’t know whom to scroll the memory a little to the beginning, and, miraculously, it happened right away. Only after this did I understand, and I had to make a "cuckoo" sign. This was my memory, and that’s why I could control it. Well done, fuck… Then there were a lot of words, mostly obscene.

Having calmed with difficulty, I began to search for what had attracted my attention, scrolling through the memory first in one direction and then carefully scanning it in the other. I did this until I found what hooked me on.

These were thoughts, but obviously not mine, because, firstly, I didn’t remember when I said them, secondly, I could barely hear them, and thirdly, they arose only when I saw the body on the wheeled bed and began to examine it attentively.

I froze. To say that I held my breath is impossible due to its absence. So I froze as industriously as I could, listening to the barely audible words and straining everything that I could  in my position.

« Is this my body?» The next words were said a little bit louder and with a panic in the voice: «I, what, have died?». Hysterically, «How and when has this happened? No, no, no!».  Then, with despair and fatality, «This shouldn’t’ have happened! I’m so young; I recently turned seventeen.»

After scrolling through the memory a couple more times for reliability, in order to make sure that I’d heard everything right, I asked myself a question. And whose thoughts were these?

Having looked once again at the stretched-out body lying on the wheeled chair, I came to the conclusion that these were the thoughts of that young man whose body was lying down there, who, as it turned out, had only turned seventeen. The body that I seemed to have occupied. Though it depends, I was here, in the Cosmos, and he was down there. Hmm…

It looked like this: while its master was aswoon, I was settled with him, and after his personal memories were torn from its memory, after this he died a little bit. And only his emotional reaction to some things reminded of itself. Now I understood where all these youthful reactions suddenly came from, as well as the hysteria that suddenly arose there among the stars.

Assuming that I took the place of a boy, it turns out he was definitely a goner. Well, in this way, it would be easier to accept what has happened to me. The thought that my appearance in it had killed him was unbearable.  

«Now let’s keep moving on, and quicker, quicker, Merlin damn you, so that I - Mother Magic, will not to allow something like this to happen- have not started any non-constructive reflection…»

  «Why do you think that the assessment of what is happening to you will be non-constructive?» once again, you’ll ask.

Because if I begin to think about the ethics of the fact that I occupied someone else’s s body and even took it from a young guy, thereby finally killing him, from such reflections, various bad questions will immediately pop into my head, for example, this one. If I hadn’t gotten into him, would he have had a chance to survive or not?

So reasoning in this light could lead to the fact that I would fall into uncontrollable despair and start eating my heart out, feeling guilty, which is wrong in my case.

«Why do you think that to feel guilty in your situation is not right?»  you’ll be indignant.

My answer was this: because in the situation of appearing in someone’s body, nothing depends on me then, and nothing depends now. I didn’t make any efforts to appear in someone’s body, as well as I didn’t make, impel, or ask someone to place me in the young body.

And even if to consider the option in which I strived to restore justice, it was a real bummer. I couldn’t imagine what could be done, to whom to voice my displeasure, if I swam in some kind of grey frog and did no one can understand what and talked to no one understand with whom. Now I couldn’t even kill myself because I needed to first wake up in the body in order to have such a possibility.

Well, it was necessary to finish with the feeling of guilt, or who knows what I would agree to with the invisible interlocutor? I hope I hadn’t gone gaga, but maybe I already had. Ok, let’s not talk about the sad things. All right, I didn’t think about the sad and extraneous things and moved on to more pressing issues. At the moment, that for me was Harry's memories.

Having looked through my memory till the end, I was surprised to know about such a small detail as the fact that Harry Potter’s memories flew to me from somewhere outside, appearing through a portal. And what did it give me? Only that my earlier assumption that these memories were the memories of my previous embodiment wasn’t confirmed.

And not only that, this allows to safely conclude that since the memories left their master, he definitely died. Awesome, the boy died, leaving me his body; Harry Potter also died somewhere out there, leaving me his memories; and I was very much alive here in someone else's body with someone else's memories. Interesting!

I was saved from despair by a question that came to my mind. Why are the memories of a man who died somewhere out there shoved into me? It was clear about the body: the boy had died, the body was freed, and I was needed for something, which is why I had to live. So two notable incidences occurred, and someone placed me in the body under cover. Here everything was clear, whatever one may say, but why I was given the memories of a stranger, I had no idea.

Yes, here's the tricky bit with all these memories: no matter how much I thought and racked my brains, there was only one conclusion: I was sorely lacking information in order to make some assumptions.

The only thing that came into my tired mind about why someone else's memories were shoved into me was that there were some strong reasons for this, which, of course, were unknown to me.

For now, I would follow this because I don’t have enough information for a normal analysis. And it was necessary to decide what to do right now; otherwise, I would go crazy from this duality, or rather, threeality. The young man is one, I am two, and Harry is three. And what was I supposed to do in this case?

I was stunned as a brilliant thought entered my head. I was me. And no one else. Even if I didn't remember who I was.

The option to accept one of two personalities was unacceptable to me. And even though I didn’t remember anything about myself, this didn’t mean that I was ready to let the emotional state of the young slacker take over my feelings up.

His aggressive attitude towards the world, which he had shown me many times, was unacceptable for me. My judgment was that if, at the age of seventeen, he was dissatisfied with everything and everyone, then what would happen to him next if he continued to live?  But maybe he perished because of such negative state of his soul. I needed to think carefully about this when I had some time in order not to become like him, yet I kind of got his body. What if this was contagious?

Didn’t distract! I hushed to myself because I had a feeling that soon I would black out or be blacked out. In the case of Harry’s personality, things were slightly more complicated. I had his memories, but I didn’t know what they had to do with me and if they had. That’s why I couldn’t accept his personality. When I imagined, I would accept his personality, and then his memories would be taken and I would be left…I was me, or I wasn’t me. Hm… I went too far. I confused myself.

But if, let’s say, to dismiss all these thoughts, as a person, Harry was a good man  if there hadn't been one 'but,'  … his son Alrus. Compared with him, Harry immediately lost out to him.

The insecure person subject to someone else’s influence, albeit not very much. Slightly melancholic and some kind of not quite whole, as if he were assembled from several parts of what, I didn’t know how to say, but watching him, I constantly had such a strong feeling. This was also the reason I wasn’t ready to accept his identity.

Though I felt greedy seeing the goodies I could have in the form of Harry's knowledge and experience, additionally, the following nasty thought crossed my mind: maybe if I accepted his personality, I would have his magic abilities?

And yet, however tempting it might seem, I chose myself as a new personality in this young body. In the meantime, without being able to change anything, I would continue to watch the memories of Harry Potter. Perhaps I could get the information I need.

As soon as I had determined my choice, I was immediately enveloped by a silver shining and after some time bathing in it, I understood that, in such a strange way, they told me that my choice was accepted.

As soon as the shining died out, I felt that, because of my nonmaterial state, I urgently needed to choose the name in order to cement my decision.

The only thing I could do now was start sorting out the names of Harry's acquaintances and neighbours and try them for myself.

When I ran out of name options, I got confused. None fit me! I didn’t know how it happened; I just knew that all the names didn’t fit me. My perplexity had gone when I remembered that there were two other names that I hadn’t checked: Harryson and James.

As strange as it sounded, the name Harryson suited me. Well, let it be, so I decided. Let it be Harryson. And I had thought about the fact that I needed to choose the short form of the name.

Here I am, Ree! I raised my transparent index finger. I liked this abbreviation, but Harry in the past strongly disliked it, which I was very happy about. For some reason, I wanted to somehow separate myself from Harry.

After this difficult process of name selection, I immediately felt tidiness, and I slowly began to fall into the darkness, allowing it to accept me in its tender embrace because all these thoughts, decision -makings and emotional and psychological tense accompanying them have worn me out very much.