《Harry Potter: The Limbo Legacy》


 Chapter 1: Fortune Teller, Ian Prince

    London. Fog. Thick fog.


    In a haze so dense it was almost impossible to see, a young boy packed up his stall along a desolate London street, preparing to head home early. He wore a black hat and a black trench coat, which accentuated his delicate features. A prominent nose, perfectly sculpted lips, a charming smile ¨C he was undeniably a boy who could easily win the favor of women, especially those of a certain age, a fact reflected in the generous tips he often received.


    Just as he was about to leave, a gentle voice called out from behind him, "Young seer, do you have time for one more reading?"


    Ian Prince turned.


    Reflected in his emerald green eyes was a refined woman in a blue plaid high-necked dress, accompanied by a lovely brown-haired girl whose hair was as fluffy as a bird''s nest.


    "Of course," Ian smoothly transitioned into his professional persona. "Every divination is a glimpse into the future. If you don''t mind, madam, may I have your name?"


    "You can call me Mrs. Granger." Looking at Ian''s delicate features, Mrs. Granger found the boy utterly adorable. Good looks certainly had their advantages.


    "Very well, Mrs. Granger. What would you like to have divined?" Ian smiled, expertly rearranging his tools.


    "It''s about¡­" Mrs. Granger began, but the little girl beside her, her face a mask of disapproval, pulled free of her mother''s hand and marched up to Ian''s table.


    "Don''t try to trick us with these silly games! It''s just psychology, a cheap con! There''s no such thing as fortune-telling or magic!"


    "Every mystery has a mundane explanation ¨C sleight of hand, illusions, trickery. Science has proven it. You should read ''Medieval Lies''," she declared, her cute features contorted in a fierce frown. Her mother opened her mouth to scold her, but Ian raised a hand, stopping her.


    "An excellent suggestion. I have one for you as well. ''The New Principles of Numerology'' is quite an interesting read. Perhaps you should give it a look." Ian met the girl''s challenge with a disarming smile, his calm demeanor frustrating her further. Her doll-like face flushed with indignation.


    "There''s no magic!" she insisted.


    "What if there is?" Ian tilted his head, looking down at the girl, a head shorter.


    "Then I''ll eat this table," she declared boldly.


    "Right then, Miss Hermione Granger, I''ll remember that. People who break their promises go bald when they grow up," Ian chuckled, his amusement evident.


    "How do you know my name?!" Hermione Granger gasped, taking a startled step back. She looked at her mother, who was equally surprised, her gaze fixed on Ian.


    "Shall we begin, Mrs. Granger?" Ian maintained an air of mystique, shuffling his tarot cards and laying out four on the table. He¡¯d never felt quite so much satisfaction in his little act. The girl was practically hiding behind her mother.


    "You must have tricked us somehow. Don''t believe him, Mum," Hermione whispered, though her ears were perked, listening intently.


    "We need a reading, Mr. Fortune Teller," Mrs. Granger said, her eyes gleaming with a newfound intensity.


    Ignoring Hermione''s glare, Ian gestured for Mrs. Granger to choose a card. She did so immediately. Ian raised an eyebrow at the revealed card and offered her a knowing smile.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "The Fool, Madam."


    Hermione, despite her continued skepticism, leaned closer. Mrs. Granger clasped her hands together expectantly.


    "Mr. Fortune Teller, what does this signify?"


    Ian gestured with a flourish. "That, Madam, is for you to tell me. What was the question in your mind as you chose this card?"


    Mrs. Granger nodded, a look of understanding dawning on her face. "I wanted to ask about my Hermione. Will she get into her preferred secondary school next year?" Her primary concern, like most parents'', was her child''s future. Ian encountered this often.


    Nevertheless, he feigned a look of sudden realization. "So, you wish to have your daughter''s fortune told."


    "Yes, young man. Can you tell me the outcome?" Mrs. Granger pulled out a five-pound note and handed it to Ian.


    Ian smiled, his eyes meeting Hermione''s. The girl seemed curious, but quickly averted her gaze when she caught him looking. She was trying to appear indifferent, but her occasional glances betrayed her interest. Typical of a future witch, he thought.


    "Of course," Ian said, his voice soft. He picked up The Fool card. "This represents new beginnings and adventure. After next year, your daughter will attend the school best suited for her, and she will achieve great things. She will become a highly respected figure, admired by many." For once, his words held genuine conviction.


    Mrs. Granger beamed, her delight evident. Hermione remained silent, but the slight upturn of her lips revealed her pleasure.


    "Thank you, Mr. Fortune Teller. We''ll be going then." Mrs. Granger, satisfied with the reading, waved goodbye. Hermione tugged at her mother''s hand, eager to leave.


    After a few steps, she couldn''t resist turning back to give Ian a final, defiant glare. Ian, a mischievous glint in his eyes, raised his voice slightly. "Oh, and one more thing. In the future, she''ll have two wonderful sons."


    Mrs. Granger turned back in surprise, her eyebrows raised. "Oh my! I actually think two children is a bit too few."


    "I''m not having children!" Hermione exclaimed, her face crimson.


    Mrs. Granger patted her head affectionately.


    Ian bowed slightly. "Come again, Mrs. Granger."


    "Thank you, Mr. Fortune Teller," Mrs. Granger replied, leading Hermione away. As they walked off, Ian could faintly hear Hermione''s indignant voice. "Mum, fortune-telling isn''t scientific! He must have overheard us talking to know my name. They just say what people want to hear!"


    Mrs. Granger''s reply was softer. "Hermione, why does it matter? It''s only five pounds. It''s not much to us, but to that boy, it could mean a decent meal. If they had a choice, would a child his age be out on the streets trying to make a living?"


    "His clothes are all patched up. He''s a poor boy¡­" Their voices faded into the fog.


    Ian looked down at his own clothes. They were indeed worn and patched. A kind stranger had donated them last year. He received donated clothes every year, but a few tussles with Gilly, the orphanage cat, left them in their current state. Gilly was a stray who had wandered into the dreary, ancient orphanage and decided to stay, becoming the children''s only pet and playmate.


    "Another good day," Ian murmured, gathering his belongings. He had earned about fifty pounds, a considerable sum for a child.


    Of course, this success wasn''t entirely due to luck.


    Name: Ian Prince


    Occupation: Bloodline Sorcerer


    Magic: Level 4


    Skills: Language Proficiency (Level 3): 23/400


    Biological Anatomy (Level 4): 796/800


    Free Combat (Level 3): 85/400


    Psychology (Level 6): 42/3200


    [Psychology Extraordinary Trait: Mind Perception]


    ¡­


    Yes, Ian possessed a status panel, though it lacked system quests or a cute anime companion. It simply allowed him to grow stronger through effort. Rudimentary, but practical. The visible progress was motivation enough, especially since leveling up granted him additional benefits ¨C Extraordinary Traits. These traits were special abilities gained upon reaching level five in a skill, enhancing his existing capabilities. Reaching level ten unlocked even more powerful Legendary Traits. So far, however, Ian hadn''t managed to max out any skill.


    Gaining proficiency wasn''t easy. Today, he had only acquired five points in Psychology. He would need to read the minds of over three thousand people to level up.


    Well, perhaps "read minds" wasn''t entirely accurate. Providing emotional validation was a service, wasn''t it? It was thanks to Mind Perception that he could discern his clients'' unspoken desires, making his fortune-telling business a thriving success in the neighborhood.


    "Small gains are still gains," Ian mused, pushing his cart back towards the orphanage. A transmigrator''s life. A classic start.


    "Hey, Ian, wait! Don''t go in yet!"


    "Santa Claus is here!"


    As Ian reached the dilapidated orphanage, a group of children surrounded him. He caught a glimpse of a figure disappearing inside.


    "Nonsense, that''s Gandalf," Ian corrected, his heart a mix of anticipation and apprehension. He had been waiting for this day, but he hadn''t expected it to arrive so soon, and he certainly hadn''t expected Albus Dumbledore.


    Watching the white-bearded wizard enter the headmaster''s office, Ian felt a pang of confusion. Wasn''t the Hogwarts acceptance letter supposed to arrive by owl first, followed by a professor''s visit?

 Chapter 2: Dumbledore

    Wools Orphanage.


    The corridor remained unchanged. Dumbledore surveyed the familiar surroundings, a tapestry of memories woven into the very fabric of the building.


    "Ms. Elena," Dumbledore''s voice resonated with a quiet authority, "I''m here for Ian Prince."


    Ushered into the office by the matron, Dumbledore''s presence seemed to dispel any lingering chill. "He has an education to attend to."


    Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass window, illuminating his silver hair and beard, casting the aged wizard in an ethereal glow.


    "Oh, how wonderful!" Elena, the matron, a woman of fifty with kind eyes and greying hair, beamed. She bustled about, offering him a cup of tea ¨C the cheap kind, with a stale aroma.


    "Ian Prince is a good boy, very mature for his age. He doesn''t quite fit in with the other children. Always off doing his own thing."


    Dumbledore considered this, setting down the untouched teacup. "Ms. Elena, are you suggesting Ian is¡­ solitary?"


    Elena faltered, then shook her head vehemently. "No, no, you misunderstand. He''s simply advanced. The other children try to play with him, but he prefers his own pursuits." She paused. "He once said their games of pretend were¡­ childish. He''d rather be birdwatching."


    "Birdwatching. A fine hobby. A kinship with animals." Dumbledore seemed to relax, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Perhaps he''ll have an owl someday."


    Elena blinked, then continued her praise. "He may find the other children immature, but he cares for them deeply. Eleven years old, and he''s already sneaking out to earn money, buying flour and vegetables for the kitchen. He remembers every child''s birthday. Buys them sweets." A sigh escaped her, tinged with regret. "These are hard times. Donations are scarce. It''s my own failing that a child has to¡­"


    "You mustn''t blame yourself. You''ve done admirably. I can see the improvements." Dumbledore''s words held genuine warmth.


    "Have you been here before?" Elena asked, surprised.


    "This isn''t my first visit," Dumbledore replied cryptically.


    Elena, preoccupied with the prospect of Ian''s departure, didn''t press the matter. "Sir, if you''re here to take Ian, please know he''s a remarkable boy."


    "Then perhaps I could meet him?"


    Under the subtle influence of a Confundus Charm, Elena''s perceptions were gently nudged. No correction was necessary.


    "Of course! Of course!" She hurried out, spotting Ian returning with a small cart. "Ian! Come here, dear!"


    A younger child clung to Ian''s arm. "Ian! This is it! Your big day! Go on, don''t keep Ms. Elena waiting!"


    In the orphanage, being chosen was a momentous occasion. For these children, nothing held more significance than finding a home.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    But Ian knew this was no ordinary adoption.


    Apprehension gnawed at him as he was led to the office.


    It''s him. He''d glimpsed the figure earlier. Now, confirmation settled in. Albus Dumbledore. Hogwarts Headmaster. The greatest wizard of the age.


    "Don''t be nervous, child." Dumbledore''s eyes, ancient yet clear, held him in their gaze. "I have something to tell you. You are a wizard."


    Feigning surprise, Ian met the old wizard''s penetrating stare.


    "I imagine you''ve noticed¡­ certain differences between yourself and others."


    Ian hesitated, glancing at Elena, who remained oblivious, her expression unchanged. The Confundus Charm. He forced a calm demeanor, avoiding Dumbledore''s direct gaze. "I have. Sometimes, when I stare at a glass of water¡­ it ripples. Is that¡­ wizardry?"


    He dared not feign complete ignorance.


    Dumbledore nodded, a faint smile gracing his lips. "Indeed. That is your magic manifesting. Sometimes, when you''re¡­ angry, these fluctuations become more pronounced."


    Angry? Ian''s mind raced. I''m not some¡­ Tom Riddle. "Sir, I rarely get angry. Emotions cloud judgment."


    Dumbledore''s smile widened, his beard trembling slightly. "A wise observation. Ms. Elena was right. You are remarkably mature." His gaze softened. "Hogwarts. A school of magic. A place where you can learn all manner of spells and charms, encounter fantastic beasts¡­"


    "Don''t be alarmed, Ian Prince. As Headmaster of Hogwarts, I formally invite you to attend."


    It''s happening. Despite his limited knowledge of the wizarding world gleaned from a few films and fan fictions, the weight of the moment settled upon him. He knew of Hogwarts''¡­ reputation. He couldn''t shake the unease, the paranoia fueled by countless dark fan theories.


    "Is something troubling you?" Dumbledore inquired, mistaking his apprehension for hesitation. "Hogwarts has hippogriffs that soar through the skies, trees that¡­ retaliate. And most importantly, children your age. You''ll learn together."


    "Don''t worry about the process, Ian. This very orphanage¡­ produced a remarkable wizard once." Dumbledore''s voice trailed off, tinged with a wistful sadness.


    Ian tensed. He knew precisely how "remarkable" that wizard had become.


    "Is he¡­ still at Hogwarts?" he asked, feigning curiosity.


    Dumbledore shook his head, drawn back from his reverie. "No. He left long ago. Strayed from the path." A sigh escaped him, heavy with regret. "But that doesn''t diminish his accomplishments. He could have achieved so much more¡­"


    Ian maintained a facade of innocent confusion, his mind churning. A warning? A test? Damn my paranoia, curse those fan fictions.


    "Child, have you made your decision?"


    "I¡­ I suppose I''ll give it a try." He''d been waiting for this day. There was no other answer.


    "A wise choice. In a fortnight, you''ll receive your Hogwarts letter. Someone will escort you, assist with your school supplies."


    Ian shrugged, feigning reluctance. "Sir, even if I wanted to, I can''t afford it. I have no money for tuition."


    Dumbledore retrieved his hat from the coat rack. Elena suddenly spoke, her voice filled with an unnatural certainty. "Thank you. He''ll be there in two weeks."


    Ian realized the Confundus Charm was still at work. He wondered what fabricated scenario she was witnessing.


    Ignoring Elena, Dumbledore addressed Ian directly. "Don''t worry about the finances. There are scholarships. And the person who escorts you¡­ they owe you a great deal."


    Dumbledore turned to leave. Ian stood up abruptly. "Who? My¡­ parents?" Am I a pureblood after all?


    "That''s not for me to reveal." Dumbledore winked, a cryptic smile playing on his lips. "You''ll know soon enough, child."


    He departed without another word, Elena bustling after him, overflowing with misplaced gratitude.


    Ian stood there, speechless, then retreated to his room.


    That night, lying in bed, his mind raced. Why did Dumbledore come early? Was it the orphanage? My¡­ supposed lineage? Grindelwald? Riddle? Or¡­ Prince? Was that even a pureblood name?


    Exhaustion finally claimed him.


    He drifted from sleep to wakefulness, crossing a threshold. Dawn painted the sky in hues of rose and gold, the distant woods a fairytale landscape. A bird sang a sweet melody.


    He opened his eyes, taking in the breathtaking view.


    "You''re here again." A gentle voice reached him.


    "Almost forgot. It''s Saturday." He turned to see a girl emerge from the woods, clad in a blue dress, her golden hair cascading around her shoulders. She gazed at him with an innocent serenity.


    "Ariana," he said, "I met a creepy old man today. Forgot to bring you sweets."

 Chapter 3: The Witch in the Castle, A Welcome Gift

    Ian Prince. That was his name in this life. How long had it been since his crossing? He couldn''t say. Unlike those who blinked and found themselves in a new world, his transition hadn''t been so abrupt. After his death as a university student, his consciousness drifted through a hazy expanse of time, a formless journey through forgotten landscapes and half-remembered events.


    Now, he couldn''t recall the purpose of that ethereal drift. It wasn''t a search for something lost, more like a restless wandering of a soul untethered. Until a light appeared. He flew towards it, and his eyes opened to a world both familiar and strange.


    As a transmigrator, Ian possessed the expected cheat: a status screen. But he also had a unique gift¡ªthe ability to traverse the boundary between life and death. Every week, in his dreams, he found himself in a peculiar place, a realm the innocent girl before him called Limbo.


    Limbo. The resting place of the dead in the Harry Potter universe. A waystation to the afterlife, some said. A path to rebirth, others claimed. From his limited knowledge of the Harry Potter world¡ªgleaned from movies and fan fiction¡ªIan knew only that Dumbledore had appeared in a spectral train station within Limbo after his death. He suspected his own death and rebirth, his two lives intertwined, had somehow glitched the system, granting him access to this place. He cursed his past self for not delving deeper into Harry Potter lore. If he''d known he''d be crossing over, he would have become a true scholar of the wizarding world.


    But perhaps even a scholar wouldn''t have understood Limbo, a place shrouded in mystery even within the original story.


    "You seem troubled," the girl before him observed. Ariana, a ghost who no longer remembered how long she''d been dead. Yet, she retained the innocence and naivet¨¦ of her earthly life. She was one of Ian''s few companions in this spectral realm.


    Ian considered Limbo a treasure trove. Young wizards typically awakened with a Level 1 magic control. His own Level 4 control stemmed from his training here. Not from Ariana, who possessed no magic, but from another friend¡ªa cryptic old man who refused to teach him true spells, always claiming he was too young.


    "It''s that creepy old man," Ian said, his voice tight.


    "Creepy? Is he frightening to look at?" Ariana tilted her head, curious.


    They walked along a riverbank, butterflies flitting around them, a rabbit watching from beneath a tree. Sunlight dappled the scene, painting it in soft hues.


    "No, not frightening. Quite the opposite. He''s¡­refined. But he''s a voyeur, or so I''ve heard."The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Aren''t you curious why he sought you out, Ariana?"


    "Why did he?"


    "To invite me to Hogwarts. Turns out I''m a wizard with a proper magical lineage," Ian boasted, a touch of pride in his voice. He hadn''t been much older than Ariana when he died. Despite his long journey through the void, he was still, in essence, a ghost, just a slightly more experienced one. Perhaps that was why they connected.


    "Hogwarts! I remember! The best wizarding school in the world! And the safest!" Ariana''s eyes widened. "If you have trouble, Ian, seek out my brothers. They''re students there, good people, always willing to help."


    "Trouble is guaranteed," Ian muttered, stretching his legs into the river and lying back on the grass. "How powerful can students be? This year, or next, we''ll be facing¡­the Noseless Wonder. Not exactly an easy opponent." The thought of Voldemort stirred unease within him. He could avoid the Boy Who Lived, but what if he became collateral damage in the ensuing chaos? Hogwarts'' safety was a dubious claim.


    "Noseless Wonder?" Ariana frowned.


    "A big bad guy, about to be resurrected." With Ariana, in this detached realm, Ian didn''t hide his foreknowledge. He''d offered other glimpses into the future, but Ariana never questioned them.


    "Is he powerful? My brothers are very strong."


    Ian sat up, intrigued. "Your brothers¡­are they twins?" Twins brought the Weasleys to mind, but Ariana''s hair color didn''t match, and he''d never heard of a Weasley sister who died young. Another magical family, then? One of the Sacred Twenty-Eight? "Do you remember your family name?"


    Ariana shook her head, a flicker of sadness in her eyes.


    Ian blinked. "Then how am I supposed to find your brothers?"


    "My brothers¡­" Ariana trailed off, lost in thought. She remembered only their love for her, and her waiting for them here. "I think¡­I''m forgetting. My memories¡­they''re fading." Her voice was laced with sorrow.


    "Limbo holds souls through their attachments," Ian explained gently. "When those attachments fade, when memories are lost¡­it''s time to move on. To the next life. It''s not a bad thing."


    Tears welled in Ariana''s eyes. "But my brothers¡­"


    Ian, unsure how to comfort her, pulled out a chocolate bar. "Lucky you. I was saving this for myself." He''d brought it with him, not forgotten it.


    "Chocolate¡­Ian, you''re so kind." The chocolate seemed to lift her spirits. She took a bite, then added, "I just¡­I wish I could see them again."


    Ian scratched his head, looking at her profile. "I''ll ask around. See if anyone''s lost a sister. Maybe it''ll jog your memory, give you a few more years here." He forced a smile. "Everyone dies eventually. Just¡­outlive them. Then you''ll see them again, here."


    Ariana''s face brightened. "Thank you, Ian. But please don''t¡­don''t kill them just so we can be reunited."


    Ian stared at her, speechless. Was she serious? "What kind of monster do you think I am?"


    "The witch in the castle¡­she said you had that¡­quality."


    Ariana''s laughter broke the tension. The witch in the castle? Ian glanced towards the shadowed forest where the castle lay hidden. He''d heard whispers. Limbo was vast, and his explorations were limited.


    A sudden coldness touched his hand. He looked down. Ariana held it, a gentle smile on her face. "Thank you, Ian. A gift¡­for your enrollment."


    A warmth flowed from her hand into his. He saw a crimson pattern bloom on his skin, then vanish.


    "What¡ª"


    The world shimmered, Ariana''s form blurring. He knew it was time to leave. He offered a wave. "See you next week."


    "See you next week," Ariana echoed, her voice fading.

 Chapter 4: God Bless You

    The fog before his eyes shredded, like reality itself tearing apart. Ian¡¯s eyes snapped open.


    He shifted uncomfortably on the cramped cot, the moon painting the room in a spectral silver. The clock on the wall ticked relentlessly, its hands pointing to 12:07. Seven minutes. Seven minutes in the real world for a lifetime spent in a dreamscape so vivid, so impossibly real.


    A shuddering breath escaped his lips. He wiped a hand across his forehead, though no sweat beaded there. The disorientation was a phantom limb, a lingering echo of the mindscape he¡¯d just left. He glanced at the back of his hand, a faint white mark barely visible in the moonlight.


    The room was shrouded in shadows. Ian rose, crossed to his desk, and rummaged through a drawer filled with handcrafted knives. He found a small flashlight and clicked it on, the beam illuminating the mark on his arm.


    ¡°What is this?¡± he murmured, examining the gift from his friend. The mark shimmered, a fleeting flash of light, then vanished, absorbed into his skin.


    He knew he could carry objects into the dreamscape, and bring things back. Like the chocolate he¡¯d given Ariana. But this mark¡­ what purpose did it serve?


    He checked his status panel, hoping for an answer.


    Name: Ian Prince


    Class: Bloodline Sorcerer


    Magic Level: 4


    Skills: Language Proficiency (Lv 3): 23/400; Biological Anatomy (Lv 4): 796/800; Free Combat (Lv 3): 85/400; Psychology (Lv 6): 42/3200


    [Psychology Unique Trait: Mind Perception]


    Nothing. The mark wasn''t listed. He¡¯d half-expected this. The gift, like his ability to enter the dreamscape, operated outside the system. Perhaps Hogwarts¡¯ library, rumored to hold the sum of magical knowledge, held the key.


    With that thought, he ran a hand over the mark on his arm, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. He returned to his cot and fell into a dreamless sleep.


    Time flew. The next morning, sunlight streamed through the window, finding Ian already hunched over his language books.


    [Successfully read French word, Language Proficiency +1]


    [Successfully read Roman word, Language Proficiency +1]


    [Successfully read Roman word, Language Proficiency +1]


    He exhaled, rubbing his tired eyes. Learning languages this way was a grind. Each word, painstakingly sounded out, its meaning committed to memory through sheer force of will. Still, the rewards were tangible.


    Language Proficiency (Lv 3): 35/400 (+12)


    A morning¡¯s work, and twelve points closer to his goal. Level 5, and the unlocking of a unique trait. With no spells to learn for now, practical skills were his only recourse. What secrets would the language trait reveal?


    The question fueled him as he started his day. After a meager lunch, he hauled his cart to his usual spot, ready to ply his trade. Fortune telling. Or, more accurately, reading people. The tarot cards were just props. His real tools were his honed psychology skills and the uncanny insights granted by his Mind Sense trait.


    He¡¯d found that even if he could tell the future, people didn¡¯t always want to hear it. Sometimes, a carefully crafted lie was more valuable than the truth.


    He called out his spiel, and soon a woman, drawn by his promises of insight, approached his table. He studied her: the cut of her clothes, the hesitations in her speech, the subtle flickers in her eyes. He had her pegged.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°You¡¯re under a lot of stress, madam,¡± he began, his voice low and soothing.


    She nodded, unsurprised. It wasn¡¯t exactly a difficult guess.


    He pressed on. ¡°Something to do with your studies?¡±


    A flicker of surprise. ¡°Yes,¡± she admitted.


    ¡°Your tutor is giving you trouble. You¡¯re nearing graduation, but at this rate, he won¡¯t let you pass.¡±


    Her eyes widened. She stared at him, speechless for a moment, then her voice trembled. ¡°Young¡­ fortune teller¡­ you¡¯re right. What should I do?¡±


    [Successfully observed psychological state, Psychology proficiency +1]


    Another point. But Ian didn¡¯t let it distract him. His prey was hooked. With his Mind Sense, he could practically steer her thoughts. But he had his principles. Mostly.


    ¡°Madam, you¡¯ll need to¡­ grease the wheels, so to speak. A little something for the headmaster might smooth things over. Difficult, though. A lucky charm might help. A blessing from the goddess of fortune¡­¡±


    He gestured to the array of ¡°lucky charms¡± laid out on his table. Handmade trinkets, nothing more. But to her, they were talismans of hope.


    ¡°How much?¡± she asked, her eyes wide. ¡°Can I buy them all?¡±


    A jackpot. ¡°Five pounds each, madam.¡±


    He laid out twenty charms.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take them all! Twenty times the luck!¡±


    She scooped them up, handing him a crisp one hundred pound note. Enough to buy two months¡¯ worth of meager meals at the orphanage. He pocketed the money, a smile playing on his lips.


    ¡°May the goddess of fortune smile upon you,¡± he intoned, playing his part.


    ¡°Thank you!¡± she clasped her hands together, radiating fervent belief.


    He watched her go, then packed up his cart, whistling a cheerful tune. He stopped at a restaurant, buying several steaming pots of stew. Tonight, the children at Wools would eat well.


    He wheeled the cart back to the orphanage, the aroma of stew preceding him.


    ¡°Whoa, Ian, what¡¯s that?¡± A chorus of excited voices erupted as the children spotted the steaming pots. Even the older kids weren¡¯t immune to the allure of a hot meal.


    ¡°Hey, Ian!¡± They crowded around, eyes glued to the stew.


    Ian grinned. ¡°Alright, everyone, grab some bowls and spoons. And try to keep the drool off the floor.¡±


    Laughter filled the air as they scrambled to obey. Soon, they were all seated, devouring the stew with gusto.


    ¡°Ian, I¡¯m so jealous. You¡¯re going to that posh school, right? Miss Elena said the headmaster himself invited you!¡±


    ¡°Wow, I wish I could go.¡±


    ¡°Tom, don¡¯t be silly. Ian studies all the time, even here. Do you study?¡±


    ¡°Some nobleman took a liking to Ian. It¡¯s because he¡¯s so smart!¡±


    Ian listened, a faint amusement tugging at his lips. The Confundus Charm was working its magic. He offered a noncommittal hum now and then, letting them weave their fantasies.


    Then, a small voice cut through the chatter. ¡°Ian, I know you¡¯re not going to a posh school. You¡¯re going to Hogwarts. The man with the white beard said it¡¯s a school for wizards who can make sweets appear.¡±


    Ian¡¯s head snapped around. A little girl with golden hair stood beside him, her face a mixture of anxiety and hope. As he met her gaze, a strange buzzing filled his ears, and he heard her unspoken plea as clear as a bell.


    I want to go to Hogwarts. I want to learn magic that makes sweets appear! Then I¡¯ll be the Candy Princess!


    He blinked, the buzzing fading. His Mind Perception. Sometimes, it gave him glimpses into the deepest desires of others.


    The other children were still lost in their chatter, oblivious to the revelation. But the little girl, Catherine, continued to stare at him, her eyes shining with an almost painful intensity. It dawned on him then. She was magical. The Confundus Charm hadn¡¯t touched her. Dumbledore¡¯s magic wouldn¡¯t make such a blatant mistake. This was the real deal.


    ¡°Can I? Ian?¡± she whispered, her voice barely audible.


    He recovered from his surprise, offering her a reassuring smile. ¡°Of course, Catherine. But you have to be a good girl and keep it a secret for now. Hogwarts only accepts obedient children.¡±


    Catherine¡¯s face lit up. She opened her mouth to cheer, but Ian quickly hushed her. ¡°Remember, it¡¯s a secret.¡±


    She clamped a hand over her mouth, nodding vigorously. ¡°I¡¯m a good girl! I won¡¯t tell! Even if Matron breaks my legs, I won¡¯t tell!¡±


    Ian winced internally. Children.


    Later that night, in the orphanage kitchen, Ian expertly butchered chickens and ducks, the rhythmic thud of the cleaver a familiar sound.


    ¡°Thanks again, Ian. You save us so much time,¡± one of the cooks said gratefully. The children needed their protein. And Ian needed his practice.


    [Successfully butchered a chicken, Biological Anatomy proficiency +1]


    [Successfully butchered a duck, Biological Anatomy proficiency +1]


    [Successfully butchered a duck, Biological Anatomy proficiency +1]


    But tonight, something was different.


    [Ding! Congratulations! Biological Anatomy has reached max proficiency and leveled up!]


    [Biological Anatomy (Lv 5): 1/1600]


    [Congratulations! You have reached level 5 and unlocked a unique trait!]

 Chapter 5: Can This Stop Me?

    Ding!


    Congratulations! You have acquired the extraordinary trait [Butcher''s Instinct].


    In the kitchen, Ian, about to dispatch a hen, his face lit up with surprise. He immediately began to examine the trait''s effects. Acquiring an extraordinary trait meant a skill had reached a new level of mastery, a glimpse into its true essence. Similar to the Mind Perception trait derived from psychology, he wondered what effect this one, born from biological dissection, would have.


    As he examined the trait, he discovered that Butcher''s Instinct allowed him to instantly analyze the optimal dissection structure of any living creature. How to put it? Useful, if not groundbreaking.


    Looking at the hen in his grasp, Ian felt as if he could see through its feathers, directly to the perfect spot for his knife. With a swift motion and a crack, the hen''s life was extinguished. The decisiveness of the act drew praise from the nearby chefs.


    "Wow, Ian, your butchering skills are getting better and better!"


    After dressing the hen, Ian helped to portion the other chickens the chefs had plucked. With a few swift cuts, crack, crack, crack, the meat was neatly separated.


    "Heh, I''ve gotten a bit more practiced," Ian replied with a smile. Acquiring the extraordinary trait had indeed brought a significant improvement.


    While the extraordinary traits of these ordinary skills were certainly impressive, they were just that ¨C ordinary. Ian couldn''t help but wonder what extraordinary traits magical skills might produce. Would they be even more powerful and wondrous?


    Unfortunately, he still had to wait half a month for the owl to deliver his study books. Even now, Ian still didn''t understand why Dumbledore insisted on a home visit first. Was Wools Orphanage really that charming?


    That morning, at his desk, he found himself unable to concentrate on his books. "Such a long wait! I want to learn magic now!"


    The following days crawled by. The feeling was worse than waiting for a pre-ordered grail; it was like knowing the goddess had already descended, but he was still waiting for the postal service to deliver the necessary¡­ equipment.


    "I am an adult soul, after all," Ian muttered, unable to articulate his impatience. It was the anticipation of discovering a new world, the thrill of stepping from reality into a realm of magic. Any normal person, let alone an adult soul, would be eager to explore the mysteries of magic.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    That day, Ian decided to skip work. Although he was his own boss at his small stall¡­ Being an adult meant making adult decisions. What was a little trip to Diagon Alley? Could that stop him?


    Clutching his accumulated "fortune," Ian set out, relying on his fragmented memories of the original story, attempting to locate the Leaky Cauldron in the sprawling metropolis of London. It was a pub invisible to Muggles, visible only to wizards, a gateway to Diagon Alley, the heart of the wizarding world. This was how Harry Potter had entered Diagon Alley in the books, and Ian intended to follow suit.


    However, he only knew the pub''s name, not its actual address. The streets teemed with people. Ian blended into the crowd, searching block after block, but the pub remained elusive.


    "The Ox Head... Jenny''s Restaurant, Tomorrow''s Diner, KFC..." None of the countless shops were his target.


    Like Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, the Leaky Cauldron was only visible to wizards. Logically, Ian should have been able to see it. He knew he simply hadn''t found the right location.


    "Hmm?" Mid-search, Ian realized he was being followed. A wave of unease washed over him. Human traffickers? Organ harvesting wasn''t prevalent yet, was it?


    He quickened his pace, taking several turns while glancing back. The follower was cloaked in black, their face obscured. Suddenly, it seemed to make sense. This attire wasn''t cosplay.


    A dark wizard abducting a young wizard? Who knew their motives? Certainly not to adopt an heir to their dark arts.


    "I''m being targeted!" Ian''s heart pounded. Panicked, he spotted a subway entrance and dashed inside. The cloaked figure remained outside, perhaps wary of using magic in a crowded public space. After all, abducting a young wizard was far more serious than violating Ministry regulations. The difference between a misdemeanor and an act of terrorism.


    Heart still racing, Ian gratefully boarded the subway. An hour later, he was back at Wools Orphanage.


    "That was close! The wizarding world is a dangerous place!" As Ian''s small figure walked through the gates of the square, imposing orphanage, he was unaware of two figures watching him from the shadows.


    One of them was the man Ian had perceived as a "dark wizard."


    Dumbledore''s calm voice resonated beside the cloaked figure. "Aren''t you being overly cautious, preventing him from encountering the magical world prematurely?"


    The cloaked figure remained silent, a statue in the night. His thoughts drifted back to an hour earlier. He had cast a subtle charm on Ian, rendering the Leaky Cauldron invisible. Ian hadn''t failed to find the pub; he had been magically prevented from seeing it.


    "Diagon Alley is no place for children''s games. It''s crawling with dark wizards. I don''t want him ending up like his foolish¡­" The cloaked figure trailed off, turning to Dumbledore with deep-set eyes. After a long silence, a raspy voice emerged.


    "He belongs in Slytherin."


    Without another word, the cloaked figure apparated, leaving only a faint breeze and dissipating magical ripples.


    "Wools Orphanage¡­" Dumbledore murmured, remaining alone. He gazed at the orphanage''s weathered gates, his eyes fixed on the dilapidated sign, a complex expression on his face as if lost in memory.


    "I hope I won''t make the same mistake this time." With a heavy sigh, Dumbledore turned and melted into the night, his departing figure appearing slightly stooped.

 Chapter 6: Extraordinary Trait: Butchers Instinct

    The two weeks since Dumbledore''s personal invitation to Hogwarts had been agonizingly slow. Ian had initially planned to visit the Leaky Cauldron in advance, but a chilling encounter with a mysterious cloaked figure had quickly squashed that idea, confining him to the orphanage. The mere thought of the potential darkness lurking within the magical world sent shivers down his spine. He possessed the soul of an adult, but the body of a university student¡­ hardly a match for such unknown dangers. Discretion was the better part of valor.


    [Successfully read Roman. Language proficiency +1]


    [Successfully read Roman. Language proficiency +1]


    [Successfully read Roman. Language proficiency +1]


    ¡­


    At his desk, Ian pored over his books, brows furrowed in concentration. He meticulously copied words into his notebook, murmuring them aloud. Self-study demanded ironclad discipline, a truth unchanged even with the aid of his status screen. Each increment in proficiency represented genuine learning, a small epiphany. But these epiphanies were born from dedicated effort. Leveling up, of course, brought a different kind of enlightenment, a surge of comprehensive understanding.


    Lost in his studies, a sharp rapping at the door broke his concentration. "Come in," he called, turning towards the entrance.


    The door creaked open, revealing Katherine, her eyes sparkling. "Ian, do you want a chicken leg? The cook said there are extras tonight!" She held out a drumstick like a precious offering. A white, short-haired cat darted past her feet, leaping onto the desk and crouching.


    Katherine gasped, then, recognizing the feline, exclaimed, "Jilly! You pest!"


    Ian swatted the cat''s rump playfully and scooped her up. "There, Katherine, I''ve told her off."


    Katherine pouted, still slightly annoyed at the cat.


    Ian offered a reassuring smile. "Jilly didn''t mean it, Katherine. Relax."


    "Alright, Ian," she conceded. Children''s tempers, like summer storms, came and went quickly. Her curiosity finally bubbled over. "Ian, when can we go to the magic school?"


    Ian smiled at the little girl. No one could resist the allure of magic. Still, he reminded her, "Katherine, remember our secret."


    Katherine immediately clapped a hand over her mouth. "Ian, I¡­"


    "It''s alright to tell me," Ian chuckled. "But as for attending magic school, you might have to wait a few years, given your age."


    "Mm-hmm! I''ll eat lots and grow up fast! Ian, let''s go play with Noah and the others!"


    Her eager eyes were hard to refuse. Ian glanced back at his language textbook. He had planned to grind his language skill to level 5 and unlock its extraordinary trait, but Katherine''s interruption had broken his flow. Forcing himself to continue would be inefficient. He checked his status screen.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Name: Ian Prince


    Class: Bloodline Sorcerer


    Magic: Level 4


    Skills: Language Proficiency (Level 4): 500/800


    Biological Anatomy (Level 5): 64/1600


    Free Combat (Level 3): 85/400


    Psychology (Level 6): 42/3200


    [Psychology Extraordinary Trait: Mind Perception]


    [Biological Anatomy Extraordinary Trait: Butcher''s Instinct]


    His language proficiency had soared to level 4 thanks to his recent intensive study, just 300 points shy of level 5. His other skills had stagnated due to his lack of fortune-telling and anatomical studies. Time, after all, was a finite resource.


    "Let''s go," Ian said, setting the cat down. Jilly darted out of the room, and Ian followed Katherine outside.


    In the courtyard, children were playing football. Their faces lit up at the sight of Ian, who often filled a quasi-parental role in their lives ¨C less strict, but equally caring.


    "Hey, Ian! Join our team!"


    "No way! Ian finally came out to play; he should be on our team so we can win!"


    Their playful squabble brought a smile to Ian''s face. "Alright, alright. I''ll be the goalkeeper!"


    With his departure for Hogwarts just days away, a bittersweet feeling settled over him. He felt a pang of longing for the orphanage, its people, and its familiar routines.


    ¡­


    Night fell, the sky a canvas of scattered stars. Ian, freshly showered and tucked into bed, couldn''t shake off the persistent yearning for his future.


    "When will I finally be able to practice magic¡­?"


    Sleep soon claimed him, pulling him into a deep, dreamless slumber.


    He awoke to a sky as clear and vibrant as a freshly polished sapphire, dotted with fluffy white clouds resembling spun sugar. Sunlight streamed through the gaps, casting dappled patterns on the ground like playful sprites.


    The Misty Realm. He was back.


    Ian stretched, taking a deep breath of the tranquil air. Below the picturesque sky, a fairytale forest unfurled, its lush trees whispering ancient secrets in the breeze. Small animals scurried through the undergrowth, butterflies and bees danced among the flowers. A winding cobblestone path led into the heart of the forest, towards a darkness that clung to the horizon.


    This time, Ariana was nowhere to be seen. Ian was accustomed to her absence; the flow of time in the two worlds was vastly different. Seven minutes in the real world could translate to half a day in the Misty Realm. Their previous encounter had been a fortunate coincidence.


    Ian strolled across the grass towards the path. Strange creatures peeked out from the bushes, their curiosity piqued before vanishing back into the foliage. He followed the winding path, sunlight filtering through the leaves.


    After an indeterminate time, he arrived at a small, secluded valley town. Despite its size, it boasted a surprising array of amenities: an old post office, a pub with a gently swaying sign, and a church with a spire reaching towards the heavens. Yet, an eerie stillness hung over the seemingly peaceful town. Every shop was closed, the streets deserted. It resembled a ghost town from a horror film, only lacking the ominous atmosphere.


    "A town of the dead¡­" The scene reminded Ian of Ariana''s words ¨C that people had once lived here, but had gradually departed. Perhaps these souls had simply forgotten their lingering attachments within the Misty Realm, or perhaps they had fulfilled them, moving on to new, mysterious adventures.


    "The absence of life is palpable." Ian quickly traversed the empty streets, arriving at Ariana''s cottage.


    "Huh? Where is she?"


    The cottage door was shut tight. Ian peered through the window. Silence. Just like the shops, there was no sign of life within.


    He found this strange. In all the years he''d been visiting the Misty Realm, Ariana had never strayed far from the town. This was the first time he couldn''t find her. He had hoped to ask her about the mark she had given him. Could her disappearance be related to the gift she had bestowed? Worry gnawed at him.


    Suddenly, a voice sliced through the silence behind him, elegant yet cold, a voice that commanded attention.


    "Oh, heartbroken little boy, are you waiting for that poor little girl?"


    Startled, Ian spun around.


    A woman stood before him, her eyes like deep black jewels, slightly tilted at the corners, framed by thick, fan-like lashes. She was elegant, breathtakingly beautiful¡­ a young woman? She wore a long, black robe trimmed with gold thread, her bearing regal and aloof. Her opulent appearance clashed starkly with the simple surroundings.