Scholarship System

Night had fallen deep. Outside, trucks rumbled over the rain-slick roads.

London was becoming increasingly financialized, and Canary Wharf was on the rise, but the street where the orphanage stood was still piled with uncollected garbage bags.

The building always smelled of disinfectant, but it could not mask the stale, decaying odor. The caretakers were exhausted, and the children were as wary as injured little animals.

Sean was curled up beneath an old, cheap synthetic-fiber quilt, sleeping soundly.

Just moments ago, he had tested the Green Talent he had unlocked.

All he wanted to say was:

"What kind of miserable life had I been living before?"

It turned out that three attempts at practice could yield one correct attempt.

It turned out that wizards could actually sense whether a spell's pronunciation was right.

Take "Scourgify," for example. He had always thought it was pronounced "Scour-g-ify," but just now, a sudden thought had struck him. Why couldn't it be "S-cour-g-ify"?

And so, in some mysterious state, he gained his first Proficient.

A full 10 points of proficiency!

What had once taken him five days,

he achieved in five seconds!

No wonder this was a Magical World of talent. He had experienced it for himself now.

Tomorrow was when Professor McGonagall would come to collect him. He hoped he could perform well enough, at the very least reaching the minimum requirement for a Scholarship.

Speaking of which, what were the scholarship requirements for first-year young wizards at Hogwarts?

Sean did not know, but he was certain he would meet them.

For no other reason than money.

As long as he kept studying magic tirelessly, he would surely stand at the pinnacle of the Magical World.

With beautiful visions of the future in mind, Sean drifted into a deep sleep.

September 1, 1991.

It was a special day. Sean was leaving the orphanage.

He quickly packed his clothes. He only had two undershirts, and two pairs of trousers that were barely usable. As for the rest, they were either too big or too small.

When he dragged a cheap suitcase to his bedroom door, he was surprised to realize just how few things in the orphanage belonged to him.

"Sean, you'd better not come crawling back because you can't pay your school fees! You'll regret it if you do!"

Nurse Anna twisted her fat body, her tone as sharp and nasty as ever.

"No need to worry about me, Square Aunt! I hope you don't get kicked out because of the recent layoffs! Though with your performance, you're definitely going to lose your job!"

After saying that, Sean scurried toward the entrance, leaving only Nurse Anna's shrill curses behind him.

Sean could not understand those slang expressions, so he simply assumed she was cursing him.

Hah—he had finally gotten to properly talk back to that cylinder. She had turned a blind eye to the original owner's serious illness, making her one of the main culprits behind his death.

No one in this world knew about the original owner's death. Sean, who had crossed over from another world, was the only one who did.

Giving her a good scolding counted as collecting a little interest on the original owner's behalf.

Normally, this was something he would never have dared to imagine, yet now he had simply done it.

God, Sean, what was going on with you? You really were something!

With a smile, Sean jogged over to the peeling front door. The faded "Oak Children's Home" plaque hung crookedly beside it, shaking dust loose in the wind.

Below the plaque,

Professor McGonagall wore square glasses, her Black Hair curled and tied into a high bun. Her dark green robes, paired with a Scottish plaid shirt, gave her a stern air.

But when she saw the frail Sean running toward her, the corners of her mouth still lifted slightly.

"Professor McGonagall, sorry to keep you waiting."

Sean jogged all the way to Professor McGonagall. His body was weak, and even running a few steps left him breathless, but he had always run to meet her like this.

He had done the same while shopping last time. When Professor McGonagall asked why, the little fellow had answered in a voice so soft it was nearly inaudible:

"You should run to meet someone important."

The older cat lady said nothing, but her heart had melted completely.

"You can slow down, Mr. Green. We have plenty of time."

Professor McGonagall's voice was not as stern as her expression. She gently took Sean's hand.

Then she suddenly noticed the frail little fellow watching her carefully and intently.

"S-cour-g-ify."

With a flick of Sean's wand, the dust in Professor McGonagall's hair vanished.

"Dirty things... shouldn't be on... your head."

Sean was still panting. After doing that, his breathing became even more labored. His voice was soft, but stubborn.

Professor McGonagall stared at Sean in a daze, surprise and gratification flashing through her eyes.

"A passable Scourgify. When did you learn it, Mr. Green?"

Professor McGonagall asked as she gently held his hand and walked forward slowly.

"Just yesterday, Professor."

Sean was no longer panting. His head hung low, and his tone was cautious and uncertain.

"You did very well, Mr. Green. It seems you truly can earn that Scholarship."

Professor McGonagall noticed his caution and smiled as she offered those encouraging words.

Sean remained silent. He only raised his head to look at Professor McGonagall with bright, sparkling eyes before quickly lowering his gaze again.

Inside, he was already popping champagne.

Given Professor McGonagall's personality, once she said that, half of his Scholarship was already in the bag. Pretending to be a pitiful orphan was somewhat unethical, but for the Scholarship, to escape the deadly orphanage and survive, Sean had no choice.

His body still needed time to recover, and the Scholarship was the money he had the best chance of earning.

Sure enough, Professor McGonagall revealed news of the Scholarship in her next sentence.

"Headmaster Dumbledore has approved it. If all seven of your subjects reach Outstanding within the first month, you will be granted a Scholarship of six hundred Gold Galleons."

Professor McGonagall calmly delivered the news that made Sean's heart surge. 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 weak voice finally sounded:

"...Thank you, Professor. Actually, I learned from books that Hogwarts does not offer Scholarships to first-year young wizards. Thank you for your efforts, for allowing me to study magic."

After saying that, he fell silent.

Those were his sincere words.

Professor McGonagall was stunned for a moment. Then, like her smile, her heart slowly softened.

"This is what you deserve, Mr. Green. You do not need to thank me for such a thing."

She glanced at Sean casually, only to meet his cautious, stolen look for the third time.

"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, seeming somewhat heavy.

"Every day."

The train station was bustling with voices. Sean dragged his heavy suitcase through the dense crowd with difficulty.

"The Hogwarts Express is behind that platform barrier. Don't be afraid. Just run straight through it, Mr. Green."

Professor McGonagall's words lingered in his mind. Looking at the solid wall, Sean still felt a little worried even though he knew nothing would go wrong. But when he thought that Professor McGonagall might still be watching, he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and merged into the wall.

But in the eyes of a certain older cat lady, Sean had charged straight at that wall without the slightest hesitation.

"That child trusts you very much, Minerva."

An elderly voice appeared beside Professor McGonagall.

"Getting Outstanding in all seven subjects is no easy task. Do you believe he can do it?"

Out of a certain sense of amusement, a certain White Wizard King asked with a chuckle.

"Albus, even if there is only one person in all of Hogwarts who can do it, I believe it will be Sean."

Professor McGonagall's gaze was resolute. She was still thinking about those thirteen hours every day.

Even at her most dedicated, she had been unable to maintain such intense studying for two consecutive months.

Not to mention that group of young wizards at Hogwarts who spent all day fooling around.

"Sean is a pitiful child, but he is also... a well-behaved and sensible child. He deserves that Scholarship."

Professor McGonagall fell silent for a while before giving that assessment.