"If you insist on going to that Hogwarts school, then you'll have to pay for your own expenses! The orphanage won't give you a single penny!"
"I understand, Matron Anna."
Shawn watched as the matron walked into the common room and gently closed the door behind her. A loud slam would give her an excuse to change his dinner from cheap pork sausage to baked beans on stale bread—and without tap water, that stuff could choke a person to death.
Not that the tap water had ever been clean. Drinking too much of it led to illness, and once someone fell sick in this impoverished orphanage in the southern suburbs, death would be waiting to collect them.
How did Shawn know this so clearly? Because the body's original owner had died exactly that way.
Disease, severe cold, and malnutrition had taken the boy's life together. Shawn, who had arrived in this world last winter, had kept this as a constant warning. He drank those cheap black teas whenever possible and even fought the older children for a cup of instant coffee, even if it meant losing sleep for a day or two.
Over the past six months, he had pieced together his situation. It was now late August 1991. This was the Croydon district of the Harry Potter world—one of London's poorest areas. The Hollysey Orphanage, where he lived, was the poorest institution of its kind.
Why? Because there was only one orphanage here, opened merely for political show.
At the end of 1990, Margaret Thatcher had stepped down. Her economic reforms had brought prosperity to some, but they had also widened the wealth gap significantly. The City of London benefited from deregulation, with the wealthy seeing their fortunes surge, while traditional industrial areas and inner-city impoverished regions faced unemployment and cuts to public services. The Croydon district suffered particularly from this divide.
The Hollysey Orphanage hadn't received proper funding for five years, leading to severe financial strain. Each child barely had access to safe drinking water, and they only had one thin blanket for winter.
In this situation, if he couldn't get into Hogwarts, he might not live to see adulthood—especially since his body had always been weak. A slight cold or fever could cost him his life. Not because London's medical care was backward, but because those stingy caretakers might not "discover in time" that a child was sick.
"Hogwarts doesn't charge tuition, and as for expenses, I still have the scholarship Professor McGonagall arranged."
Shawn retrieved a bag from the deepest part of his metal bunk bed. Inside were one hundred forty-three Galleons, a wand, some robes, and other supplies. He had purchased strictly according to the minimum standards on the school supply list. Even so, it had cost him one hundred fifty-seven Galleons. His savings for the entire school year were now less than half of what he'd started with.
Tomorrow is the day Hogwarts term begins.
"I need to hurry. If I don't perform well enough to qualify for the scholarship next year, I'm finished. The Galleons definitely won't be enough."
When he had gone to collect his acceptance letter and shop in Diagon Alley, Professor McGonagall had deliberately mentioned this reward, though it was only available to students with excellent performance.
Would Shawn perform excellently? The hope was slim. After all, he had practised the Levitation Charm a full five hundred times before finally learning it.
Fortunately, he had an advantage—a strange ability that had appeared after he'd arrived in this body. A translucent panel visible only to him displayed his progress:
[Name: Shawn Green]
[Identity: Wizard]
[Title: None]
[Proficiency]
[Levitation Charm: Apprentice Level (1/300)]
[Lumos: Apprentice Level (1/300)]
[Scouring Charm: Locked (27/30)]
[Three Apprentice-level spells can unlock the Apprentice-level title in the Charms domain.]
[Advancement: Three Entry-level spells can unlock the Entry-level title in the Charms domain.]
The proficiency panel was practical. As long as he practised correctly, he would gain progress. Apprentice-level spells only required thirty correct practices. Three Apprentice-level spells could unlock a title that would enhance his abilities.
It seemed straightforward enough. But even such a simple task had taken Shawn two whole months to barely complete—averaging one and a half successful practices per day. His magical talent was abysmal, though he didn't know if that was a consequence of his unusual arrival in this world.
He suspected his birth parents in the magical world—whoever they were—had passed down terrible aptitude. Though the magical world probably didn't have time to care about one struggling orphan.
"Today, I must unlock the title."
Shawn confidently took out his wand, then carefully stepped on the warped floorboard and stuck his head out through the drafty single-pane glass window. The Victorian-style semi-detached house in the impoverished southern suburbs had fallen into silence. Moonlight gleamed off the frost-touched rooftops.
"Good, they're all asleep. As long as I'm careful, I won't be discovered."
If the original owner of this body had left him anything useful, it was this independent, secluded single room. Although it had been allocated out of fear of disease transmission, for Shawn now, it was undoubtedly fortunate. It meant he had enough private space to practise magic without interference.
"Scourgify!"
Shawn clearly recited the incantation at the dirty poster on his wall and waved his wand in an S-shape.
Unfortunately, the count on the panel didn't increase.
Shawn didn't let frustration creep in. He recited the incantation again, adjusting his wand movement.
Only through hands-on learning had Shawn realised how obscure and difficult magic truly was. Take this Scouring Charm, for example. Where should the stress in the incantation fall? How heavy should it be? What kind of S-shape should the wand gesture trace—large or small? Where should the movement be faster, and where should it slow?
Shawn knew that "Scour" meant to clean, and "ify" meant to make something into that state. Together, it commanded the magic to make the target clean. So his pause should fall between "Scour" and "ify". As for that S-shaped gesture, he could only rely on trial and error.
Fortunately, he could judge success or failure based on whether proficiency increased, allowing him to learn from past correct practices.
"Scour—g—ify!"
Shawn recited the incantation for the fifth time and waved his wand according to his accumulated experience.
"Faster at first, then slower, and the final curve needs to be larger..."
Shawn muttered to himself while carefully replicating his previous successful movements.
Light suddenly flared. The poster on the desk shed its stains in an instant, colours brightening as years of grime vanished!
[You have practised the Scouring Charm once at Entry standard, proficiency +3.]
[Scouring Charm has been unlocked.]
[A new Charms domain title has been unlocked; please check.]
[A wizard talent has been unlocked; please check.]
Success!
Shawn picked up the newly cleaned poster and examined it carefully under the moonlight filtering through his window. The image—a faded photograph of a Muggle football team—now looked nearly new. He had to marvel at magic's wonder.
As for that Entry standard, just as spell effects varied in power, the standards for correct practice also differed. They were divided into Apprentice and Entry levels. Apprentice would increase proficiency by one point, while Entry granted three points. Whether there were standards beyond Entry, Shawn didn't know. With his magical talent, achieving Entry level at all felt like Merlin's blessing.
"Let's see the new title."
Shawn opened the panel with barely contained anticipation. Three new lines had appeared:
[Title: Charms Novice]
[Slightly increases perception of charms, slightly enhances charm talent.]
Shawn continued reading:
[Wizard Shawn, Charm Talent: Green (Enhanced by the Charms Novice title; the original talent was Grey)]
[Note: Average wizard talent is Green.]
Shawn's breath caught in his throat.
Grey—the lowest possible rating. No wonder he couldn't learn spells properly. With talent like that, even managing to cast anything at all was remarkable. It was hard to imagine how difficult his academic journey would be without this proficiency system.
Fortunately, he had this advantage. Otherwise, his future at Hogwarts would be impossibly bleak.
After a brief moment of reflection, Shawn's eyes hardened with determination. Without natural talent, he would simply practise until his fingers bled and his voice gave out. He would test the limits of this system and push himself beyond what seemed possible.
Let me see your limits, then. Let's begin.