It was late at night, and outside, trucks rumbled as they drove over wet roads.
London was undergoing financialization, Canary Wharf was rising, but the streets where the orphanage was located still had uncleared bags of trash.
Inside, there was always the smell of disinfectant, but it couldn't mask the stale air; the caregivers were exhausted, and the children were as wary as injured small animals.
Sean was curled up in a worn, cheap synthetic fiber quilt, sleeping soundly.
Just moments ago, he had tested his unlocked green talent.
About it, he only wanted to say one thing:
"What kind of hard life did I live before?"
It turned out that three practices could lead to one correct practice.
It turned out that a Wizard could perceive the pronunciation of a Spell.
For example, "Scourgify," he had always thought it was "Scour-g-ify," but just now, a thought struck him: why couldn't it be "S-cour-g-ify"?
And so, in a mysterious state, he achieved his first [skilled].
A full 10 proficiency!
His progress of five days,
He achieved in five seconds!
No wonder it's a world of talented magic; he had finally experienced it.
Tomorrow was the day Professor McGonagall would pick him up. He hoped he could perform well enough, at least to meet the minimum standard for the scholarship.
Speaking of Hogwarts, what was the scholarship standard for a first-year Young Wizard?
Sean didn't know, but he was sure he would achieve it.
There was no other reason, just Gui.
As long as he persisted in learning magic, he would surely stand at the pinnacle of the magic world.
With beautiful dreams for the future, Sean fell into a deep sleep... September 1, 1991.
This was a special day; Sean was leaving the orphanage.
He quickly packed his clothes; only two undershirts and two pairs of pants were still barely usable. As for the rest, they were either too big or too small.
As he dragged a cheap suitcase to the door of his room, he was surprised to find how few of his belongings were actually in the orphanage.
"Sean, you'd better not come back because you can't pay the tuition! You'll be in for it then!"
Caregiver Anna twisted her plump body, her tone still sharp and harsh.
"Don't trouble yourself! Aunt Square! I hope you don't get laid off because of the recent downsizing! But with your performance, you're definitely going to be unemployed!"
With that, Sean nimbly ran to the door, leaving behind only Caregiver Anna's sharp curses.
Sean didn't understand the slang, he just assumed she was cursing him.
Phew—finally he could properly retort to that cylindrical woman. It was she who had ignored his original body's severe illness, and she was one of the culprits in his original body's death.
In this world, no one knew of the original body's death; Sean, who had transmigrated from another world, was the only one.
Cursing her fiercely was a way to collect interest for the original body.
Normally, this was something he wouldn't even dare to imagine, but now he did it on a whim.
Oh my, Sean, what's gotten into you? You're truly amazing, you fellow!
With a smile, Sean jogged to the side of the peeling painted door. The faded "Oak Children's Home" plaque hung crookedly above it, shaking off dust in the wind.
Below the plaque,
Professor McGonagall wore square glasses, her black hair curled into a high bun, and a dark green robe, paired with a Scottish plaid shirt, exuding a stern aura.
But when she saw the frail Sean running towards her, her lips still curved upwards slightly.
"Professor McGonagall, I apologize for making you wait."
Sean ran all the way to Professor McGonagall. His body was not well; he would pant after running just a few steps, but he always ran to Professor McGonagall like this.
It was the same when they went shopping last time. When Professor McGonagall asked why, the little fellow replied in an almost inaudible voice:
"Important people should be met with a run."
Though the elderly cat-lady didn't say it, her heart melted completely.
"You can go slower, Mr. Green, we have plenty of time."
Professor McGonagall's voice was not as stern as her expression. She gently took Sean's hand.
But then she suddenly noticed that this frail little fellow was looking at her carefully and intently.
"S-cour-g-ify."
As Sean waved his wand, the dust on Professor McGonagall's hair disappeared.
"Dirty things, cannot be... on your head."
Sean was still panting; after doing this, his breathing became even more rapid. His voice was soft, but also very persistent.
Professor McGonagall gazed at Sean, somewhat lost in thought, a flicker of surprise and relief in her eyes.
"A qualified Scouring Charm. How long did it take you to learn it, Mr. Green?"
Professor McGonagall asked as she gently held his hand and walked slowly forward.
"I only learned it yesterday, Professor."
Sean stopped panting. His head was bowed, and his tone was cautious and lacking confidence.
"You did very well, Mr. Green. It seems you really can get that scholarship."
Professor McGonagall noticed his caution and said these encouraging words with a smile.
Sean remained silent, only raising his head to look at Professor McGonagall with bright, shining eyes, then quickly averted his gaze.
Inside, he was already celebrating.
According to Professor McGonagall's character, once she said that, half of his scholarship was already in his pocket. Although acting like a pitiful orphan was a bit unethical, for the scholarship and to escape the deadly orphanage and survive, Sean had no choice.
His body still needed recovery, and the scholarship was the most hopeful money he could earn.
Sure enough, in the next sentence, Professor McGonagall revealed the news of the scholarship.
"Headmaster Dumbledore has approved it. Within the first month, if all seven of your subjects reach 'Outstanding,' you will be granted a scholarship of six hundred Galleons."
Professor McGonagall calmly delivered the news that made Sean's heart pound. She looked at the little boy beside her, seemingly waiting for his smile.
Unexpectedly, Sean only lowered his head further.
After a long while, his voice faintly sounded:
"...Thank you, Professor. Actually, I know from books that Hogwarts doesn't offer scholarships to first-year Young Wizards. Thank you for your efforts, which allow me to learn magic."
After saying these words, he said no more.
These were his true feelings.
Professor McGonagall was stunned for a moment, then her heart, like her smile, slowly softened.
"You deserve this, Mr. Green. You don't need to thank me for such a thing."
She inadvertently glanced at Sean, only to meet his cautious third peek, full-on.
"How long have you been practicing Spells?"
Before they reached the platform, Professor McGonagall asked her final question.
"Thirteen hours, Professor."
Sean answered honestly.
"In total?"
The Professor's gaze flickered, seemingly a bit heavy.
"Every day."
...The train station was bustling with people. Sean dragged his heavy suitcase, making his way with difficulty through the jostling crowd.
"The Hogwarts Express is behind that platform. Don't be afraid, just walk straight through, Mr. Green."
Professor McGonagall's words echoed in his mind. Looking at the solid wall, even knowing there would be no problem, Sean still had some worries. But thinking that Professor McGonagall might still be watching, he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and merged into the wall.
However, to a certain elderly cat-lady, Sean showed no hesitation at all, and just charged towards that wall.
"That child trusts you very much, Minerva."
An aged voice appeared beside Professor McGonagall.
"Getting 'Outstanding' in all seven subjects is no easy task. Do you believe he can do it?"
Out of some amusement, a certain White Dark Lord asked this question with a chuckle.
"Albus, even if only one person in all of Hogwarts could do it, I believe it would be Sean."
Professor McGonagall's gaze was firm; she was still immersed in the phrase "thirteen hours every day."
Even at her most dedicated, she couldn't maintain such intense study for two consecutive months.
Let alone those Young Wizards at Hogwarts who caused trouble all day long.
"Sean is a pitiful child, and also a... well-behaved and sensible child. He deserves that scholarship."
Professor McGonagall was silent for a moment before offering this assessment.