Transmigration

Allen silently set down the A History of Magic in the Last Century he had been holding, unsure whether to lament his arrival in a world of war or rejoice at the opportunity to learn magic.

That's right, Allen was not a native-born Briton, but a Chinese man who had transmigrated into the world of Harry Potter.

Allen, male, born in 1987 to a moderately wealthy family in a fourth-tier city, possessed strong learning abilities but, having been playful since childhood, his grades were merely average.

During his final year of high school, he fought with everything he had, setting a school record for the fastest academic improvement in history by surging from outside the top 100 to the top 30.

He was admitted to the mathematics department of a national key normal university.

After graduation, he smoothly secured an "iron rice bowl" as a high school math teacher.

In his seventh year of teaching, relying on his innate intelligence and seven years of accumulated experience, he synthesized a set of study methods that allowed his "underachiever" senior class to far outperform the parallel classes in the college entrance exams, nearly matching the elite honors class.

Allen's brilliant and shining life came to a halt on his way to buy a house.

Driving the Toyota Corolla his parents had sponsored for his first year of work, humming a little tune, even the explosive music couldn't express the surging excitement in his heart.

The wind and snow outside couldn't dampen the fiery heat of soon becoming a homeowner.

Unexpectedly, while sitting in his car, disaster struck from the heavens.

A massive dump truck suddenly swerved from the left, riding over Allen's silver Corolla; amidst the blinding pain, Allen lost consciousness.

When he opened his eyes again, Allen was no longer that Allen.

Allen really ought to be thankful that when his school partnered with a bank to issue teacher cards, he had followed the crowd and purchased personal accident insurance, with his parents as the beneficiaries.

He really ought to be thankful that he had a younger brother of the same mother, so his parents wouldn't be left without support in their grief.

He really ought to be thankful that he still had a chance to continue living!

The past is gone with the wind; he should focus on the present.

The student Allen had transmigrated into was also named Allen, though his full name was Aaron Harris.

The original Allen had been very mischievous; he had discarded his own children's toy broomstick and secretly ridden his older brother's broom, only to fall from a great height and lose his life, allowing the current Allen to merge with his soul.

Allen had returned home in a daze and spent a period of time in a fog, but fortunately, his parents in this life assumed he was just acting strangely because of the head injury from his fall, so they didn't pay too much attention to his odd behavior.

After all, there were so many things to do, so many children to look after...

"Allen, come down for dinner!" a gentle female voice rang out.

Allen put down the book, suppressed the shock in his heart, and cheered himself on.

Stay strong. Most teachers are skilled at acting, even if they usually face students. Having merged with the predecessor's soul, he had acquired all of little Allen's memories and emotions, so he was confident he could successfully keep up the charade.

Following the creaking sound of the staircase, the voice rang out again: "Allen, go wash your hands quickly; your father should be home soon."

Allen's father, Owen Harris, worked in the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. The department was divided into three branches: the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, the Obliviator Headquarters, and the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee. Owen had always wanted to join the Obliviator Headquarters, believing he was particularly skilled at memory-modifying magic.

But the reality was that he was stuck in the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee, and he didn't believe his eloquence was enough to convince Muggles to accept the various incredible magical accidents, such as the incident eight years ago when Sirius Black blew up an entire street.

Over time, Owen's use of the Memory Charm had become more refined, but having to write reports to the Obliviator Headquarters to explain himself every time he used the spell was a massive headache.

"I'm home. This weather is absolutely terrible. We had to explain to an old Muggle woman in the middle of a blizzard why her newly bought teapot started tap-dancing when it boiled water, spilling boiling water everywhere. Oh... thank you, Daisy."

Owen took the large brush handed to him by his eldest daughter, Daisy, and brushed the snowflakes off his coat.

"I need to talk to Arthur again. I think he should be able to take over this matter; he must be more eager to catch Mundungus than I am. A wizard reported seeing him on the street where the incident occurred."

"Owen, have a cup of hot tea."

Mrs. Harris flicked her wand, and a steaming cup of black tea landed precisely on the dining table with a soft thud.

As a staff member at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, it was clear that Mrs. Harris's magic was excellent, even if she only worked in the waiting room.

"Mom, calling Allen downstairs for dinner doesn't require using Sonorus, does it!"

The second son, Lenn Harris, tapped the table with the parchment in his hand, looking dissatisfied.

Lenn was currently a sixth-year student at Hogwarts, preparing for his seventh-year N.E.W.Ts.

"Oh, sorry dear, I've developed a habit at the hospital; I use magic unconsciously whenever I call someone."

The plump witch shook her golden hair and said gently to the son she was most proud of.

"Allen, go wash your hands first!" Turning her head, Mrs. Harris spotted Allen already seated in his chair.

Not daring to argue, Allen immediately ran to the sink and turned on the faucet.

Suddenly, a harsh voice rang out in his ear: "Slovenly! Slovenly!"

He jerked his head up and realized it was the mirror on the wall screaming at him.

As Allen desperately tried to smooth out the wrinkles in his clothes, he felt dazed. Perhaps a magic mirror is standard equipment for an ordinary household in the wizarding world!

Returning to his seat, the family of seven was already seated, which was not a common occurrence at this table.

"Thanks to Christmas, we can all be together today; it's truly worth celebrating!" Mr. Harris raised his glass and said kindly.

The eldest son, Albert, also raised his glass to clink with his father; he was the only junior allowed to drink alcohol.

Albert currently worked in the Auror Office at the Ministry of Magic; he had a steady personality and was very reliable.

The second son, Lenn, took a sip of sea-buckthorn juice with a straight face, as if he were tasting a top-tier vintage wine.

The eldest sister, Daisy, looked at her little sister, Emily, with a smile as Emily stared greedily at the succulent roast chicken on the table.

"What a loving family."

Allen felt delighted to be living in such a family.

He was the fourth child in the family, neither as highly regarded as his eldest brother and sister, nor doted on by the whole family like his little sister Emily, and certainly different from his second brother, who was serious about everything and eager to prove his own importance.

Allen was usually very low-key; he was neither mischievous nor overtly brilliant, just ordinary, and a very good listener.

This was likely the important reason why Allen's secret identity had remained secure until now.

"We are going to Diagon Alley tomorrow to restock some daily necessities," Mrs. Harris said.

Lenn, the second brother, immediately put down his knife and fork. "Mom, I need to get a new cauldron and some potion ingredients."

"Lenn, your cauldron actually exploded?" Mrs. Harris looked at her usually excellent second son in disbelief.

Lenn pursed his lips and remained silent.

"Mom, Lenn was brewing seventh-year potions in private, and his cauldron exploded, so Professor Snape scolded him," Daisy couldn't help but snitch to their mother. Lenn's brows furrowed tightly.

"I'm finished!" Allen interrupted the roar his mother was about to unleash.

"Allen, please don't leave just yet. Today is a day for reunion, and it's not often we are all together. Why don't we talk about something happy? For instance, what are your New Year's wishes?" Mr. Harris hurriedly tried to smooth things over.

Daisy looked at her father with interest.

Mrs. Harris raised an eyebrow and began cutting up sausages for her youngest daughter.

Little Emily had her mouth stuffed with sausage and was eating with such delight that she didn't notice this little farce at all.

"I hope that in the new year, I can pass the Auror test," eldest brother Albert was the first to respond to their father's call.

"I hope to own a decent robe before I start working," Daisy said, not wanting to be left behind.

"I hope I can have a doll that can talk, sing, and sleep," Emily added immediately after.

"My dears, your wishes will come true. Lenn, what about you?" Mr. Harris asked gently.

"Without a doubt, he must want to pass his N.E.W.Ts with all 'Outstanding' grades," Daisy said, preempting him.

"No, my wish is to enter the Ministry of Magic after passing my N.E.W.Ts with all 'Outstanding' grades," Lenn retorted to his sister.

"And what about you, Allen?" Their father looked at Allen.

"His wish is probably that when he rides a broomstick in flying class, the height will be enough so that his head doesn't scrape against the ground!" Lenn couldn't help but tease his younger brother.

"No, Allen, Mom just hopes you stay safe and sound," Mrs. Harris said, quickly offering comfort.

"I know, Mom. I hope everyone stays safe and sound, and that everything goes smoothly."

Allen felt a warmth in his heart; he felt that he wasn't being ignored, but rather that he was just too sensible most of the time.

After dinner, Allen lay in bed, drifting off as he thought: Let the future Dark Lord do whatever he wants; isn't there a Savior? I must improve my own strength to protect my family during the coming turmoil.

With anticipation for the trip to Diagon Alley tomorrow, Allen drifted off into dreamland.