On the plains of Dorset County, along the northern shore of the Channel, stood a solitary-looking manor surrounded by a wide wooden fence. The estate was huge, and flocks of birds occasionally circled overhead.
It was early morning on a bright, clear day—
but the entire manor was wrapped in a silent, lingering mist.
"Rock, hurry down for breakfast!" a warm, gentle voice called from the first floor.
In his room, Rock slowly set down the book in his hands—Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them—and glanced toward the tiny figure climbing along the side of his desk.
Two little brown eyes stared back at him.
Since the creature's entire body was made of bark and twigs, its eyes looked disproportionately big.
A Bowtruckle—classified as a Two–Star magical creature by the Department of Magical Creatures.
It was a gift from his grandfather last year for his birthday.
Rock wasn't originally from this world.
He was someone who had crossed over from another life after an accident.
The problem was that this world wasn't the Blue Star he knew.
Although its history felt nearly identical, this world possessed the one thing his old world didn't—magic.
These witches and wizards lived hidden away from ordinary people, protected by a surprisingly strict regulation known as the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.
And ever since he arrived here, something strange had appeared in his mind.
[System Activated. Please confirm login. Begin your path to truth!]
He'd lived here nearly eleven years now. The same message had appeared ten times—always within three days before or after his birthday.
As a transmigrator, he naturally understood what this kind of voice meant.
But every time he tried to log in…
A message popped into his mind:
[Insufficient activation conditions. Login failed. The system will reopen in one year.]
This "so close yet so far" feeling had tormented him for an entire decade.
Fortunately, Rock had been born into an excellent family, so he didn't have many worries.
He wasn't in a rush to unlock the system.
In this home lived a grandfather famous throughout the wizarding world for his fascination with rare and unusual magical creatures…
Newt Artemis Fido Scamander, the celebrated author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them—
a brilliant man, though admittedly a little scatterbrained.
His grandmother, Tina Goldstein, was a former American Auror who'd moved to Britain after marrying Newt.
As for his parents, he had no memories at all.
Newt and Tina had only told him that due to certain circumstances, they were no longer in this world.
Footsteps approached softly in the hallway.
Then a knock, followed by that same warm voice:
"Rock, come wash up and eat. Your Grandpa Newt just got back."
"Coming, Grandma!" Rock replied quickly.
He didn't dare keep his loving—but very strict—grandmother waiting.
He extended a finger, letting the Bowtruckle climb onto his shoulder, straightened his clothes, and stepped out of the room.
At the turn of the stairs, he spotted a familiar figure already seated at the dining table—a slightly disheveled man.
His grandpa, Newt.
"Morning, Grandpa. You're back?" Rock waved.
Newt often traveled—supposedly to study magical creatures and protect them from harm.
He believed humans and magical creatures should coexist, not dominate one another.
And he was exceptionally good at making that belief reality.
"Rock, come on now. Your grandma's been waiting forever," Newt said, pointing toward the kitchen.
"Okay, Grandpa."
British breakfasts were a nightmare for Rock, but fortunately his grandma was American—
which made things somewhat better.
Somewhat.
There was a phrase in his past life: "white people food."
It was very applicable.
Rock reached the table just as Tina was directing animated dishes to hop into plates one after another.
With a wave of her wand, each full plate glided perfectly into place on the table.
Used to this sight, Rock pulled out his chair and sat down.
"Rock, tea or milk?" Tina asked playfully, shaking her slightly graying hair.
"Tea, please, Grandma," Rock mumbled through a mouthful of breakfast.
With a flick of her wand, the steaming teapot whistling on the stove floated smoothly toward them.
"I suppose you want tea as well, old explorer?" she said—not really asking.
Newt's mouth twitched.
He cleared his throat and said, "Of course. Breakfast should come with Ceylon tea, shouldn't it?"
He glanced at Rock, who shrugged helplessly.
That's what happened when your grandfather disappeared for months at a time.
"No, for someone who disappears on a whim, the best breakfast is no breakfast," Tina said seriously as she sat down.
Newt panicked for a second, and shot Rock a desperate look.
Rock sighed, took a sip of tea to clear his throat, and said casually:
"Grandma, Grandpa has to handle the fog around the manor today… and the yard is getting overgrown.
He'll need to eat something before working hard.
Plus, he said he'd take us to Diagon Alley tomorrow."
Rock added a teasing tone—and slipped in a small request.
"You want to take us out?" Tina asked suspiciously, glancing at Newt.
Then she nodded.
"The yard does need cleaning. But as for Diagon Alley—let's wait until Rock gets his acceptance letter. Newt?"
"Of course. That's exactly why I came home.
You decide the trip to Diagon Alley," Newt replied obediently.
Rock froze.
Well, there went his chance to go out.
He'd always looked forward to Hogwarts.
It was his ticket to finally seeing the outside world.
Tina paused for a moment, then suddenly chuckled to herself.
She wiped her mouth and said, "And Newt, I've told you—fix your collar!"
Before Newt could react, she stood up and straightened his messy collar herself.
Rock looked up, immediately looked away, and sighed internally.
His grandparents were always like this.
Zero regard for the emotional damage to their grandson.
"You two clean the table when you're done," Tina said as she headed upstairs to tidy Rock's room.
"Yes, Tina~ Don't worry," Newt answered instantly.
Rock stared.
That's it? That fast?
He looked at his grandfather for an explanation.
Newt just smirked and sipped his tea.
Rock rubbed his forehead.
He felt stuffed with dog food, and suddenly his breakfast felt flavorless.
"I heard I'm taking you to Diagon Alley?" Newt asked cheerfully.
"I suppose so," Rock muttered, pointing at Tina upstairs.
"And Grandma's coming too."
"Looks like it. But your grandma decides these things.
Anyway—what day is it, Rock?
Hogwarts' owl should be here soon."
"It's the 28th. And you said the letter always comes at the end of July," Rock said, glancing at the magical calendar.
For more than ten years, he'd been waiting for the world his grandfather described as the best magic school ever.
"Well then, Rock, we should go handle those weeds outside," Newt said with a wink.
"But I don't even have a wand… or know any magic," Rock complained.
The weeds outside were almost as tall as he was.
Newt chuckled.
"You're just helping with the clearing. Yes, wizards need wands to cast spells…
but physical training matters too.
And silent wandless casting is the highest test of a wizard's ability."
"That's… actually a thing?"
Rock couldn't resist the allure of magic.
He'd already read almost every magical book in the house.
"Of course.
But the real charm of magic—you'll have to discover that at Hogwarts."
Newt stood and headed outside, motioning for Rock to follow.
Out on the foggy lawn, Newt looked up.
Thick clouds still hovered over the estate, and mist swirled all around it.
With a flip of his palm, a grayish-green wand appeared.
He gave it a gentle wave.
A breeze swept through the air, drifting upward.
Rock heard faint whispers and laughter carried along with it.
Then his feet suddenly felt light—
like he was floating.
His vision grew hazy.
He couldn't see anything clearly.
Panic rising, he flailed, trying to reach for Newt—
A hand landed on his shoulder.
The world snapped back into focus.
The mist around the manor had vanished.
The heavy clouds above split open, letting the first golden beam of sunlight spill onto the estate.
"Grandpa… how did you DO that?" Rock shouted, practically jumping in excitement.
Newt tilted his head, twirled his wand, and smiled.
"That—
is magic."
Rock stared up at the sky, whispering to himself:
"I think…
I finally understand the charm of magic…"