It had been three weeks since William had been to Diagon Alley, and his schedule had barely changed.
It was remarkable.
William woke up at the same time, ate breakfast normally, and would complete his daily exercise unhindered. The only real change in his life was that where he once studied muggle science, he studied the Hogwarts first year syllabus.
It was around the same difficulty as his previous curriculum, yet completely different in every other way.
William struggled.
The books spoke as if he were already familiar with magic, most likely meant for those raised into it or under the tutelage of a teacher. Regardless, if understanding was beyond him then memorization wasn't.
Charms and transfiguration, although they had some theory, were mostly practical. No doubt this was for the ease of first years. William wasn't willing to risk waving was wand about without instruction. Who knows what sort of spell he would accidentally fire out.
Potions was a different beast altogether.
Hundreds of ingredients and their uses, along with techniques and instructions on when to use them.
The content was massive.
By the end of the 3 weeks, William could confidently say he had an unconfident grip on 8% of the syllabus. Marvelous.
History of Magic was completely separate from all of the above. William took to it like a fish in the water. He found it incredibly easy to read of a decision made by a historical figure and immediately guess the consequences that would come of it.
Of course he was good at predicting everything that could go wrong, someone had to make up for his parent's sheer lack of ability in that regard.
It was currently evening and William was out in an empty room warming up.
As much as he detested being a sorcerer, he absolutely refused to be a weak one.
Finishing up his warmup, he went straight to working on his technique.
Projection Sorcery. At its peak, a sorcerer can split a second into 24 'frames', enabling him to appear 'sped up' to an observer. Complex nonsense aside, it did essentially increase the user's speed. A sorcerer, upon activating the technique, chooses 24 movements which he can physically achieve one after another and executes them all in that second. The distance covered by those movements depends purely on the starting velocity of the sorcerer, however when reactivating the technique immediately after the final frame, one can accelerate. When done continuously, the user can constantly accelerate as long as the technique is active.
In theory, it was absolutely broken.
In practice, it was a pain in the arse.
William was limited to a grand total of four frames. The brainpower required to plan 24 movements perfectly in a split second was simply beyond his eleven-year-old head. Golden Era sorcerers like Naoya and Naobito Zenin must have been geniuses for managing to acquire 24 frames at all.
Running across the room, jumping off walls, William kept his technique constantly active as long as his cursed energy or focus remained.
Twenty five seconds later, his mind wavered.
Instead of executing 4 frames, he got trapped in one for an entire second.
Grunting in frustration, the boy resumed his training.
One more week till Hogwarts takes me away.