[Before reading, everyone line up here and cast aside the pressures and unhappiness of the Muggle World—"Obliviate!" Good child, go read. Next!]
Thirsty, so incredibly thirsty.
Du Ling fumbled for the small lamp beside the bed, squinted toward the nightstand, and wondered when two antennae had appeared in her teacup.
The kind that moved, too.
A small brown head peeked out, shaking its pigtails for a deep, heartfelt stare with Du Ling.
It's a Giant Cockroach! Ahhh!
Du Ling scrambled all over the bed in fright. Her flexible movements and beautiful soprano startled the little pigtail cutie, which spread its wings, circled the room a few times, and then flew straight toward Du Ling's head.
Don't come near me!
Du Ling threw herself backward in terror—
"Thud!"
She fell off the bed, her back of the head making intimate contact with the floor.
Du Ling died, aged 23.
—
At 13:21 on July 27, 1979, a wrinkled baby girl was born at St. Mary's Hospital in Montreal, Quebec, Canada.
"Noooo... at least let me format my phone!"
I must leave my reputation untarnished in the world!
Du Ling screamed loudly in her heart, but unfortunately, she was just a baby now and couldn't talk, only express her emotions through crying.
"Waaah! Woooah!"
The capable Head Nurse was not bothered by Du Ling's mournful cries. She expertly picked her up to weigh her, then wrapped her tightly and took her out to show the relatives.
"Oh! Darling, our daughter is so cute, she looks just like a Western Tarsier..."
Lucy, who was still weak lying in bed, couldn't help but reach out and give her husband a hard slap upon hearing this. What kind of father says his daughter looks like a monkey!
Lucy strained to lift her head and glanced at the bundle beside the bed. Her daughter had big eyes, wrinkled skin, and slightly pointed ears—
Alright, she really did look like a Western Tarsier.
"All newborns look like this. They'll get prettier in a few weeks."
The Head Nurse said this while picking up Du Ling and rocking her a few times. Taking advantage of the pause when Du Ling finished a bout of crying to take a breath, she pushed her toward Lucy's chest to nurse.
Du Ling was furious. This foreign nurse had no respect for her; she hadn't finished crying yet—but this milk was delicious!
Du Ling sucked until she fell asleep.
July 28: Drink milk, sleep.
July 29: Drink milk, sleep.
July 30: Du Ling, oh Du Ling, how can you be so degenerate!
You crossed over once, at least don't bring shame to the community of Transmigrators!
July 31: Drink milk, sleep.
Obviously, it was impossible to expect a newborn baby to accomplish anything major, especially since the savior only managed to single-handedly kill Lord Voldemort when he was one year old.
After several weeks of growth, Du Ling finally moved past the feeding and sleeping phase and gained extra energy for brief information gathering and thinking.
The calendar on the hospital wall showed it was 1979, meaning she had transmigrated 45 years into the past.
In this life, her name was Adelaide Grindelwald. She was born in Montreal, Canada. Her father was Karl Grindelwald, and her mother was Lucy Grindelwald.
Both of her parents were zoologists, currently employed at McGill University.
Du Ling... no, she should now be called Adelaide.
Adelaide found it very strange. Her father, as a Grindelwald, didn't study Dark Arts or dabble in politics; instead, he researched animals!
Was this a perversion of Gellert Grindelwald, or a degradation of Newt Scamander?
Cough, just kidding.
Her surname must just be a coincidence. After all, she was born in a Muggle hospital, and her parents didn't carry little sticks with them.
In the two months since she transmigrated here, Adelaide hadn't observed anything happening that defied the laws of nature.
Although regretful, she had to admit that this was not the magic world.
This regret lasted until Adelaide turned four, when an accident shattered her previously peaceful and serene world.
According to the requirements of the Quebec Ministry of Education, four-year-old Adelaide needed to enter a two-year kindergarten program.
Before starting school, Adelaide had enthusiastically drawn up a "Child King" plan, hoping to become the queen of the kindergarten—but she quickly regretted it.
These little brats were incredibly noisy!
Especially certain "vocalists" who occasionally hit a soprano or tenor note, leaving Adelaide's head buzzing.
Unable to bear it, Adelaide displayed some of her "talents" to her parents, hoping they could apply for her to skip grades at nearby elementary schools and get her away from these noise demons.
The internet wasn't developed in 1979, and there were no basic physics and chemistry books at home. Adelaide couldn't explain to her parents how she learned these sciences—she could only start with mathematics, proceeding step by step, establishing herself as a math prodigy.
Karl and Lucy were very happy that their daughter was a prodigy, but considering that the most important thing for a child of Adelaide's age was interaction with peers, they politely declined Adelaide's suggestion and offered a host of reasons.
The core language of Montreal was French. Four-year-old Adelaide had no problem listening, but reading and writing were completely impossible; she had to start learning from scratch.
Her rudimentary English also needed polishing, along with Latin, social studies, drama, and the Bible, which she had never encountered—in short, Adelaide, the "One-Subject War God," was not yet worthy of skipping grades.
The worst part was that her parents took her mathematical talent very seriously and planned to nurture her toward math competitions in the future.
Help!
She didn't even like math!
Not only did she fail to skip grades, but she also pushed herself into the fiery pit of mathematics. This tragic experience severely damaged Adelaide's psyche, and she accidentally set the kindergarten on fire.
Adelaide was stunned.
She had just been silently chanting in her breakdown: I'm tired, let's just destroy everything. Preferably a huge fire to burn it all clean—
Who knew that a fire actually broke out!
Fortunately, the fire occurred on a Sunday, so there were no casualties.
But because the incident was sudden, the kindergarten was forced to close.
This should have been good news for Adelaide, but she couldn't bring herself to be happy.
Her mother, pregnant again, was resting at home on maternity leave, and having nothing better to do, she started teaching Adelaide math problems.
Adelaide sat at her desk, wanting to cry but having no tears. Who said Western parents didn't hope for their daughters to become outstanding?
Meanwhile, the fire investigators in Montreal were also wanting to cry but having no tears.
The kindergarten fire was a major incident, and they had been working overtime searching the scene, yet even after digging three feet deep, they couldn't find the cause of the fire.
It wasn't until a group of people wearing strange robes and holding small sticks intervened that the government ordered them to cease the investigation.
"I can't believe this was caused by an underage Wizard's Magic Outburst! Her emotions and magic were so powerful that they could still cause harm to a target from 3.7 kilometers away..."
"She's still in kindergarten, meaning this child is only four or five years old. With proper training, aiming for President of the International Confederation of Wizards isn't too much to ask, right?"
"Yoo-hoo! Our Canadian Ministry of Magic can finally have some presence internationally."
"Hehehe, it's finally our turn as Canadian Wizards to shine!"
"But this child's surname seems a bit off..."
"Edward! How many times have I told you that Canada is an immigrant country? Yellow cats, white cats, and black cats are all good cats. Don't be racist!"
"Uh, it's not a racial issue. The child's surname is Grindelwald..."
"..."
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