1991, United Kingdom.
The summer heat was at its peak, sunlight filtering through the clouds onto the streets and alleys, the air thick with moisture.
Sacred Heart Orphanage, an ordinary orphanage located in the Muggle world.
Damon White sat in a rocking chair, slouched lazily against its back like a retired old man, his half-lidded eyes idly watching the children chasing and playing in the yard.
There was a trace of detachment beneath his languid expression. Bathed in the warm sunlight, he lay there without the slightest bit of energy.
These past few years, saving this orphanage from the brink of closure had exhausted him.
He had picked up his long-abandoned piano skills again. At the age of six in this life, he had toured everywhere under the title of "child prodigy," making a fortune over the past few years off that gimmick.
Now, he had enough money to last several lifetimes. Once he came of age, he could leave this place.
Just as Damon was imagining his future, a kind-faced, slightly stooped middle-aged woman approached him with a smile.
She looked at the child reclining in the rocking chair, admiration flashing through her eyes. Leaning down beside the boy's ear, she said gently:
"Damon, there's a letter for you." The headmistress's expression was rather strange. "It was delivered by an owl."
She held an exquisitely crafted letter in her hand, its envelope bearing a uniquely designed school crest.
The main body of the crest was a shield-like emblem with bold, powerful outlines. The shield was cleverly divided into four sections, depicting a lion, snake, badger, and eagle. At its center, the symbols of the four Houses surrounded a large golden letter "H."
"A letter delivered by an owl?"
Damon accepted the letter from the headmistress, puzzled. For some reason, the instant his fingers touched the envelope, a sudden flutter stirred in his heart.
He had never felt anything like it before.
Damon's expression instinctively turned more serious. When he saw the wax seal and its pattern—especially the English word HOGWARTS—his breathing slowed even further.
Thump! Thump!
His traitorous heart gave a fierce beat!
Damon's hands trembled slightly as he pulled the letter from the envelope and quickly read it:
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin First Class, Chief Wizard of The Great Wizarding Association, President of the International Confederation of Wizards)
Dear Mr. White:
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
A list of required books and equipment is enclosed. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall
"Harry Potter. This is actually Harry Potter."
Damon's pupils contracted slightly. He picked up the envelope again and stared blankly at its crest.
So he had not merely transmigrated to the United Kingdom—he had transmigrated into the world of Harry Potter?
**Ding! Congratulations, Host, for discovering the true face of this world and activating the Magic System.** As the master of the Magic System, every breath you take represents abundant magic. With every breath, you will gain 0.01 Magic Points. Current System Level: Level 1 Current Magic Level: Level 1 Current Magic Points: 0 Note 1: System Level is closely related to Magic Level. As the System Level rises, the Host's breathing will possess even greater power! Magic Required for Upgrade: 1/1000 Note 2: The magic reference value of the strongest person alive, Dumbledore, is 180000. More functions await the Host's own exploration.
"So the cheat had arrived too."
Damon put down the letter and exhaled softly, countless thoughts surging through his mind like a tide.
Not only had he transmigrated into the world of Harry Potter, but he had also activated a system. Wasn't this basically taking off?
After collecting himself, Damon began studying the system before him.
Current Magic Points: 0.03
At this moment, the field representing his current Magic Points had already changed.
"Breathing makes me stronger?"
Damon experimentally began inhaling and exhaling quickly, and his Magic Points immediately jumped to 0.04.
He understood.
The magic gained through breathing was not granted once every second. Rather, every time he completed one inhale and one exhale, he gained 0.01 Magic Points.
A child's breaths were relatively short. With his current body, he completed a breath roughly every three seconds.
There were 86,400 seconds in a day. That meant he could breathe 28,800 times per day, gaining 288 Magic Points.
"So I can level up in three and a half days?"
Magic level—combat in Harry Potter leaned more toward willpower and intent. There should not be concrete numerical values, so was this merely a reference?
Under the headmistress's worried gaze, Damon sat back down in the rocking chair, completely at ease.
The moment he realized he had transmigrated into the world of Harry Potter, he had actually felt a little worried.
It was not that he feared danger. Although Voldemort's threat certainly existed, who would refuse the chance to experience the Magical World with an adult's mindset?
What worried him was that after hitting the jackpot and transmigrating into the world of Harry Potter, if he was not powerful enough, would he not be reduced to nothing more than a spectator in this dazzling wizarding world? To him, that would be worse than death.
When he had watched Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Damon had not envied Newt Scamander, who possessed so many fantastic beasts, the most. Instead, he had envied the second male lead, the Muggle—Jacob Kowalski.
Because Jacob had experienced the wonders of magic as a Muggle. That was something Damon, who had once also been an ordinary person, had deeply longed for.
Now, it seemed he could more or less rest easy.
With the breathing system, coupled with his unceasing efforts from now on, was there any need to fear that he could not become strong?
"Damon, you seem very happy?"
The headmistress beside him had never seen this "little adult" so excited before, and she spoke up at just the right moment.
"Yes, Headmistress. Perhaps I'll be leaving here early."
Damon rose from the rocking chair, his gaze slowly sweeping across the orphanage yard and the children laughing and playing there, their smiles innocent and brilliant.
"Leaving? Do you have some temporary travel plans?"
"Yes. I'm going to magic school."
"Magic school?"
The headmistress thought of the owl that had suddenly appeared earlier, and her expression turned strange.
If it had been another child, she would certainly have thought he was talking nonsense. But she knew Damon would not.
"When are you leaving? When will you come back?"
"Probably within the next few weeks. As for coming back, it may have to wait until the holidays."
The headmistress hesitated for a moment, then quickly nodded.
Ever since she had taken Damon on tours everywhere, she had realized just how mature and independent-minded the boy before her was.
She had long been mentally prepared for his departure. At this moment, she said nothing more, merely reaching out to stroke his head, motherly affection filling her eyes.
At that moment, she forgot the remarkable things the boy before her had accomplished in just a few years. She briefly forgot his contributions to this orphanage. She simply spoke with the tenderness of a mother toward a child:
"Damon, you're smarter than anyone. No matter where you go, I believe you'll live well.
"But if you ever grow tired out there, you can always come back here to rest. Don't forget, this will always be your home."
"Thank you, Headmistress."
Having eased the headmistress's concerns, Damon returned to his room and began writing his reply.
Dear Professor Minerva McGonagall, it is a great honor to receive your letter.
I can hardly wait to begin my journey of magical study. Thank you for giving me this opportunity.
Before you continue