Raising her teacup, Professor McGonagall took a sip of her tea.
"Any more questions about magic or wizards, you two?"
Lucien and his aunt exchanged a glance, both shaking their heads.
They had both accepted the existence of magic without much fuss.
For Lucien, a transmigrator, it was a given—he'd known about it the moment he received his Hogwarts letter. As for Penelope, seeing Professor McGonagall transform from a cat to a human, witnessing the oddities in Lucien's room, and watching McGonagall restore everything with a wave of her wand had convinced her beyond doubt.
While his aunt chatted with McGonagall, Lucien took a moment to check his current status panel:
- White Magic: S
- Dark Magic: SS+
- Defense Against the Dark Arts: S+
- Transfiguration: SSS
- Potions: A
- Alchemy: A+
- Magical Power: SS (Locked)
Lucien's gaze lingered on the "Locked" status next to Magical Power as he mentally reached out to the system:
"Why is my magical power still locked?"
[Due to the host's current physical strength, your body cannot yet handle such a surge of magical power. First, find a compatible item to help channel and unlock it.]
A compatible item? Something to channel magical power?
In this magical world, Lucien immediately thought of one thing.
Every wizard had one, it was perfectly suited to them, and it could channel magic.
"System, would a wand from this world meet the requirements?"
[The wand must be highly compatible with the host, and its material strength must be sufficient.]
Hearing the system's response, Lucien relaxed a bit. Diagon Alley had Ollivanders, a wand shop with countless wands. Surely one would be a perfect match for him?
"Professor McGonagall, when will we go to buy the magical supplies I'll need?" Lucien asked. "Also, you mentioned Transfiguration earlier, and I'm really interested. Could I start learning about it early?"
His question was earnest. He knew the older, cat-like Professor McGonagall was a master of Transfiguration, teaching the subject at Hogwarts. She was the perfect person to ask.
Lucien needed to master Transfiguration within a year to repay the "Faceless Loki" loan. Problem was, he didn't even know the basics yet, so time was of the essence.
McGonagall's lips curved into a smile at his question. Her earlier emphasis on the wonders of Transfiguration had clearly piqued his interest. And asking to learn ahead of time? What a studious young man.
Setting down her teacup, she said calmly, "I'm delighted you're interested in Transfiguration. It just so happens I teach that very subject at Hogwarts. Let's head to Diagon Alley now to get your supplies. You'll find everything you need there."
The three stood up. Penelope gave a quick order, and a servant waiting outside hurried in, handing Lucien a suitcase. Earlier, McGonagall had advised him to bring Muggle money to exchange for Galleons, the wizarding currency.
McGonagall placed a hand on Lucien's shoulder and said softly, "This might feel a bit uncomfortable, but it'll be over quickly."
"Apparate."
From Penelope's perspective, Lucien and McGonagall vanished like water swirling down a toilet.
After a brief blur of light and shadow, Lucien and McGonagall appeared in a narrow alley. McGonagall glanced at Lucien, surprised to see him looking perfectly fine.
"Most people feel dizzy or even sick the first time they Apparate," she remarked. "You've adapted remarkably well."
Lucien rubbed his temples, his emerald-green eyes narrowing slightly. This must be due to the changes from "Faceless Loki," he thought. I only just merged with it when McGonagall showed up, so I haven't had time to explore my new state. Why do I suddenly feel the urge to turn a random passerby into a baboon? Could that be my Transfiguration talent manifesting? Or maybe "Faceless Loki" is influencing my personality a bit—didn't Loki have a reputation as a trickster god?
Unaware of Lucien's wandering thoughts, McGonagall assumed he was adjusting to the aftereffects of Apparition and waited patiently.
"Sorry, Professor, I got a bit distracted," Lucien said, snapping out of it.
"No worries," McGonagall replied with a shake of her head. She led him toward a rundown-looking pub: the Leaky Cauldron.
They wove through the noisy crowd of patrons and headed to the back, reaching a dead-end corner surrounded by three walls. A lone rubbish bin stood on the ground.
McGonagall drew her wand and pointed at a slightly indented brick. "Pay attention," she said. "Count three bricks up from the rubbish bin, then two across, and then…"
She tapped the brick twice with her wand.
A magical sight unfolded. Starting from that brick, the surrounding ones shifted, sank, and flipped, forming a stone archway.
Through the arch, a bustling street came into view, lined with shops selling all sorts of fantastical goods. Lucien's eyes darted to bubbling potion cauldrons, owls flapping their wings, and clothes in shop windows waving at passersby.
Even with his mental preparation, stepping into the wizarding world filled Lucien with awe and excitement.
Noticing his reaction, McGonagall smiled. "We'll head to Gringotts first to exchange your money. Then you can take your time exploring the shops."
At Gringotts, Lucien suddenly thought of something and asked, "Professor, that rubbish bin back there—has it been charmed to stay in place? If some prankster or drunk moved it, how would anyone find the right brick? Would they have to try every one?"
McGonagall's lips twitched into a smirk. "Very observant. That bin is indeed fixed in place and immune to Transfiguration or other spells. Mischievous young witches and wizards—or the occasional drunk—have tried moving or damaging it, but they've all failed."
They soon reached Gringotts, its grand decor standing out starkly against the quirky charm of Diagon Alley's other shops. No surprise, Lucien thought. It's the wizarding world's only bank, practically oozing wealth.
Inside, goblins scurried about—small, sharp-eared, clever, and, by reputation, greedy. Lucien couldn't help but muse, Wizards trust goblins to manage their money? A different species with their own agenda, controlling the economy?
Then he remembered: goblins weren't allowed to carry wands, giving human wizards a clear upper hand. Guess might makes right after all.
A goblin approached them. "Here to exchange money for a new Hogwarts student?" it asked in a high-pitched voice, explaining the rates: five pounds to one Galleon, one Galleon to seventeen Sickles, and one Sickle to twenty-nine Knuts.
Lucien, used to the oddities of wizarding currency after years in England, didn't bother complaining. The goblin added, "You can exchange up to 100 Galleons per year with pounds. No limit if you use gold."
Gold, of course, was valuable in both the Muggle and wizarding worlds.
The goblin's eyes gleamed with anticipation, a hint of greed flickering as it sized up Lucien. After years at Gringotts, it could spot wealth a mile away, and this young man reeked of it.
Lucien, uninterested in small talk, handed over the suitcase. All he cared about was getting his wand and some books on magic.
The goblin's face lit up at the weight of the suitcase. It opened it with practiced ease.
Merlin's beard!
A golden fortune!