"If you insist on going to that—that *Hogwarts* for school, then you'll have to pay for your tuition and fees yourself! The orphanage can't give you a single penny!"
"I understand, Nurse Anna."
Sean watched Nurse Anna stalk into the common room, the door clicking shut with a soft finality. Too loud, and she'd think you had a problem. Dinner would switch from cheap pork sausages to baked bean bread.
Without tap water, that stuff could choke a person to death. But the tap water was always dirty. Drink too much, and you'd get sick. And in this poor orphanage in London's southern suburbs, sickness meant death.
Sean knew this all too well. The original owner of his body had died exactly that way—a cruel combination of illness, severe cold, and malnutrition. The 'Sean' who'd transmigrated last winter carried that memory like a brand. He drank cheap black tea whenever he could. He even fought older kids for a cup of instant coffee, willing to endure a day or two of insomnia for the warmth and a fleeting sense of normalcy.
Six months had passed. He'd pieced together his grim reality. It was late August 1991, in Croydon, one of London's poorest areas, nestled within the Harry Potter world. Holisey Orphanage, his current residence, was the poorest of the poor.
It was the only orphanage around, opened purely for political show. Much like the Britain he remembered from his past life. Margaret Thatcher, the 'Iron Lady,' had stepped down in late 1990. Her Thatcherism had brought economic reforms, but also a chasm between rich and poor. The City of London thrived on deregulation, the gentry's wealth soaring. Meanwhile, traditional industrial areas and impoverished inner-city regions faced unemployment and brutal cuts to public services.
Croydon was a prime example. Holisey Orphanage hadn't seen proper funding in five years. Finances were threadbare. Not only did children lack safe drinking water, but they shivered through winter with only a thin blanket each.
Under such conditions, if he couldn't get into Hogwarts, he might not even survive to adulthood. His health was already fragile. A slight cold or fever could easily claim him. It wasn't London's medical care that was backward; it was the harsh, indifferent care workers who might not 'timely notice' a sick child.
'Hogwarts tuition is free,' Sean thought, a flicker of hope. 'As for the other fees, I still have the scholarship Professor McGonagall applied for.'
He reached into the deepest part of his bunk bed, pulling out a small, worn bag. Inside, one hundred forty-three Galleons gleamed, alongside a wand, some robes, and other essentials. He'd bought everything according to the minimum standards on the admission list. Even so, it had cost a full one hundred fifty-seven Galleons. Less than half of his savings for the school year remained.
Tomorrow was the day Hogwarts started.
'I need to hurry,' he thought, a knot tightening in his stomach. 'If I don't perform well enough to get a scholarship, I'll be finished... The Galleons definitely won't be enough.'
When he'd received his admission letter and gone shopping, Professor McGonagall had subtly mentioned a reward for outstanding young wizards. But Sean? Outstanding? The hope was slim. He'd practiced the Levitation Charm five hundred times before it finally clicked.
Fortunately, he had a cheat.
[Name: Sean Green]
[Identity: Wizard]
[Title: None]
[Proficiency]
[Levitation Charm: Apprentice Level (1/300)]
[Lumos: Apprentice Level (1/300)]
[Scourgify: Locked (27/30)]
[Three Apprentice-level spells can unlock the Apprentice-level Title in the Spell Domain]
[Advancement: Three Entry-level spells can unlock the Entry-level Title in the Spell Domain]
Yes, Sean had a proficiency panel. Its function was incredibly practical. As long as he practiced correctly, he'd get a count reward. Apprentice-level spells only required thirty correct practices, and three Apprentice-level spells could unlock an Apprentice-level title.
It sounded easy. Yet, even this simple task had taken Sean two full months to barely complete, averaging a measly one and a half correct practices per day. His magical talent, he realized, was horrifyingly bad. He wondered if it was a side effect of his transmigration. Perhaps the magical world, which he'd never met, was actively targeting him. Though, honestly, the magical world probably had better things to do than bother with a scrawny orphan.
'Today, I must unlock a title!' Sean declared internally, pulling out his wand.
He carefully stepped onto the creaking floorboard, peeking out of the drafty single-pane window. The Victorian semi-detached house, deep in the poor southern suburbs, had fallen silent.
'Good, everyone's asleep. As long as I'm careful, I won't be discovered.'
If the original owner had left him anything useful, it was this independent, secluded single room. He'd been assigned it out of fear of disease transmission, but for the current Sean, it was a blessing. It meant enough private space to practice magic.
"Scourgify!" Sean clearly chanted the spell, aiming his wand at a dirty poster and waving it in an S-shape.
Nothing. The count on his panel didn't budge.
Sean didn't mind. He chanted the spell and waved his wand again. It wasn't until he started learning magic himself that Sean realized how obscure and difficult it truly was. With Scourgify, for instance, where should the emphasis be placed? How much force was needed? What kind of S-shape should the wand movement make—big or small? Faster here, slower there?
He knew 'Scour' meant to wash, and 'ify' meant to make something into something. Combined, it meant to make something clean. So his pause should be between 'Scour' and 'ify'. As for the S-shaped movement, he could only rely on luck. Fortunately, the proficiency panel told him if he was successful, allowing him to learn from his correct attempts.
"Scour—g—ify!" Sean chanted the spell for the fifth time, mimicking his most successful attempts. 'Faster first, then slower, and the final arc needs to be bigger...' he muttered to himself, meticulously tracing the wand movement.
A light suddenly flared. The stains on the poster instantly faded!
[You practiced Scourgify to an Entry-level standard, Proficiency +3]
[Scourgify Unlocked]
[New Spell Domain Title Unlocked, please check]
[A Wizard Talent Unlocked, please check]
Success! Sean picked up the newly cleaned poster, examining it carefully. He couldn't help but marvel at the wonder of magic.
As for the Entry-level standard, just as spell effects varied, so did the standards for correct practice. They were divided into Apprentice and Entry-level. Apprentice-level added one point of proficiency, while Entry-level added three. Whether there were standards beyond Entry-level, Sean didn't know. Given his magical talent, even reaching Entry-level felt like a blessing from Merlin himself.
'Let's look at the new title.' Sean eagerly opened his panel. Three lines of content refreshed.
[Title: Spell Novice]
[Slightly increases perception of spells, slightly enhances spell talent]
Sean continued reading: [Wizard Sean, Spell Talent: Green (Enhanced by Spell Novice title, original talent was White) Note: Average wizards are Green]
Sean gasped. 'White trash?!' No wonder he couldn't learn spells. This talent was so abysmal, it was practically legendary. Thank Merlin for the cheat. Otherwise, his future studies would have been impossibly difficult.
After a brief look, Sean's gaze hardened, determination burning in his eyes. 'No talent? Then repeat! Let me see your limits, panel, add proficiency!'