Harry Potter

The holidays seemed to vanish in the blink of an eye; as Allen immersed himself in his studies, time slipped away rapidly.

Comparing himself to the first-year wizards in the original story, Allen estimated that his theoretical knowledge of spells far exceeded that of almost all of them. He had yet to purchase his own wand, and underage wizards were legally prohibited from casting spells at will, lest they be detected by the Trace.

Silent casting and the wandless, precise magic practiced by the likes of Voldemort's daughter were far too difficult—certainly not something a young wizard who hadn't even held a wand yet could master.

"Allen, hurry up, come down for breakfast, don't be late."

Quickly packing his textbooks and changing from his undergarments into his Little Whinging public school uniform, he cast Scourgify to tidy himself up, then bounded down the stairs.

Downing a glass of milk amidst the swirling mist, Allen grabbed a sandwich and shouldered his bag, ready to head out.

"Wait, Allen, I'm heading out with you two today." Albert called out to Allen while holding his little sister Emily's hand.

"Huh? Why isn't Dad taking Emily today?" Allen raised an eyebrow.

"Dad's busy, so I'm taking her." Albert wore a mysterious smile as he led Allen and Emily toward the magic lamp post.

"Alright, Allen, head to your classroom. I'll drop Emily off first." Albert said to Allen while holding Emily's hand.

Allen nodded, bidding farewell to Albert and his sister.

Just then, "Potter must be hiding in the bathroom! Two of you, go find him! Let him try out our new boxing gloves."

Four or five burly boys, reeking of sweat, sprinted past Allen.

Suddenly, they came rushing back. "Yo, what are you standing there like a fool for?" This was Piers, the brown-haired best friend of Harry Potter's cousin, Dudley.

"Oh, I'm watching pigs race." Allen shrugged, hands tucked into his uniform pockets, and retorted with ease.

"Where are the pigs, kid? You're messing with us, aren't you!" Piers and Dudley looked left and right, then suddenly realized.

"Harris, are you looking for a beating?" Dudley extended his hands, clad in new boxing gloves, and gestured menacingly at Allen.

"Dudley, go ahead and try out your new gloves; you'll definitely make him squeal like a pig." Moken said, and the others let out crude laughter.

"I think you boys wouldn't want to end up in the office on the very first day of school." A stern female voice rang out behind Dudley.

"Oh, Mrs. Kelly, we're going in right now." Students of this age still held a mix of love and fear for their teachers, especially one as stern as her.

Mrs. Kelly wore a knitted skirt and a black wool trench coat; the crisp fabric spoke of its owner's fastidious and meticulous nature, and the gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of her nose made her appear even more dignified.

"Allen, why are you still standing there? Aren't you going to follow?" Mrs. Kelly's stern gaze fixed on Allen.

Allen quickly followed Dudley and his group.

Admittedly, even though he had once been a teacher himself, he still felt uneasy under her stern gaze. This was the suppression of nature; it was no surprise that students feared teachers, much like mice feared cats.

Lost in thought, Allen entered the classroom.

This classroom was completely different from the schools of Allen's past life. The green walls were covered in colorful drawings—the students' work—and a purple bulletin board displayed the class roster, schedule, and other information.

Books were scattered around the room; some were neatly arranged, while others lay open, clearly left out for the students to read at their leisure.

"Allen, over here!" Flag, Allen's best friend and deskmate, called out.

Great, no need to waste effort looking for a seat. Allen strolled toward Flag.

"Allen, Dudley bought new boxing gloves and went to bully Harry Potter again. Even though Harry Potter is a weirdo, Dudley and his gang are definitely going too far. I got a new basketball for Christmas; how about we go play during the break..."

Why were all my friends like this? Do I have a constitution that attracts chatterboxes?

Even though Allen was a good listener, he began to question his own ability to make friends.

Amidst Flag's incessant chatter, a thin boy wearing an ill-fitting sweater walked into the classroom.

It was Harry Potter: a gaunt face, knobby knees, jet-black hair, and a pair of emerald-green eyes, wearing round glasses held together by bits of transparent tape.

Even though his messy black hair obscured his forehead, Allen recognized him by these classic features.

What a sorry sight! Allen couldn't help but feel a pang of pity.

Coincidentally, Potter's seat was right in front of Allen's. I'll have a chance to get to know him eventually, Allen thought.

"Potter, how did you get away from Dudley and his lot?" the inquisitive Flag asked.

"Oh, I just shook them off. You know, I'm quite nimble." Harry Potter always had a way of escaping Dudley and his gang, though he wasn't entirely sure how he managed it himself.

"Potter, come play with us during the break so Dudley doesn't give you any trouble." Allen, seeing Harry's distress, offered an olive branch.

"Sure, okay!" Harry agreed without hesitation.

No one in school wanted to be friends with the weirdo Harry. Naturally, Harry seized this opportunity tightly.

Suddenly, the classroom went quiet. The saying "the fear of sudden silence" held true; Mrs. Kelly had entered.

She stood at the podium, her sharp gaze sweeping across the room, and the students fell completely silent. This was the charm of an experienced head teacher.

Among the flock of quivering students, Mrs. Kelly's eyes landed on Allen, and in his gaze, she seemed to find appreciation and relief.

"The new term has begun. First, I must address your uniforms—what kind of state are you all in? Dudley, put on your jacket and put those boxing gloves in your desk."

The hulking Dudley put away his gloves and donned his jacket with a speed that belied his size, sitting down obediently.

"Mary, take that exaggerated red flower off your head."

"Roger, tuck your undershirt into your trousers."

Allen watched as Harry, sitting in front, desperately tried to smooth down his stubborn hair.

"It's useless."

Allen secretly cast a Scourgify on himself. See, Miao Miao's wizard robes were just that useful; they really were an essential for home, travel, and class.

"Allen, please stand up," Mrs. Kelly called out.

Allen rose in response.

"Look at Allen, everyone. This is the model of how a student should dress. Look at him, then look at yourselves! Why aren't you tidying yourselves up to match?" Amidst Mrs. Kelly's stern tone, Allen could hear her approval of him.

Potter looked at Allen with envy. His soft, light-gold hair lay obediently against his scalp, fluffy but never messy, and it was clear at a glance that it felt excellent to the touch.

The light blue school uniform looked as neat on him as if it were brand new; there didn't seem to be a single wrinkle, and he looked entirely refreshed and spirited.

Would such a good student become friends with me? Harry felt very insecure, then suddenly froze.

Allen gave him a gentle smile. Potter felt a warmth in his heart, and he became full of anticipation for the break between classes.

After Mrs. Kelly finished listing a long string of precautions for the school, the students were clearly all listless.

"Next, I would like to introduce our new science teacher to everyone. Let's give them a round of applause."

The students' curiosity was piqued. What kind of teacher will it be? This thought surfaced in the minds of most of the students.