[Occlumency]
In 1991, in an obscure town in the Scottish Highlands.
Lorne Miles sat by a second-floor window in loose loungewear.
He was twenty-one that year. Ten years had passed since he transmigrated here, yet he had still accomplished nothing.
It was all that damned system's fault!
Heaven knew how happy he had been when he discovered he had a system.
That "ding-" had been nothing short of the sound of the Great Dao, a white crane free of worldly cares, a startling swan's cry reaching his ears. In an instant, it had smoothed every wrinkle out of his brain, and even his dissatisfaction with transmigrating had vanished into thin air.
His life as a protagonist was about to begin! This world was finally about to welcome its great savior!
But who could have imagined that this damned system's quest bar would never budge after the quest was issued?
Lorne glanced up at the blue screen before him, so faint it was almost invisible unless he looked closely. The words sitting there seemed to have gathered dust, unchanged for ten years.
[Quest: Collect the Power of Emotion from those of your kind] [Progress: 0/10] [Reward: Starter gift pack]
Lorne gritted his teeth and grumbled inwardly. Never mind how stingy this is, shouldn't a starter gift pack be there from the start, free with a click? And how am I supposed to do a quest with such a vague description?
Those of my kind-what does that mean? Men and women, or transmigrators?
To find those of his kind, he had tried practically everyone in town.
He had even tried exchanging code phrases with dogs. He had thoughtfully considered whether other transmigrators might have come from different eras and brought out old memes he had treasured for years.
"Imperial jade wine-"
"Hakimi, north and south, mung beans-"
"I heard you say-"
The result was that the townspeople regarded him as a lunatic, and even dogs by the roadside barked at him when they saw him.
Lorne pressed a hand to his forehead and was about to massage his temples when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught the eternally unchanging number on the screen suddenly shift.
[Progress: 1/10]
He practically leaped out of his chair, looking around excitedly, but nothing about the room's arrangement had changed.
In a flash of inspiration, Lorne looked up and out the window.
There was an old man all white and gray, his beard like a silvery-white waterfall, his gaze kindly, wearing glasses so small they looked a little comical.
Even after ten years, Lorne still remembered the name of the man before him-Albus Dumbledore, the highest mountain in the Wizarding World!
Lorne understood at once. He had transmigrated into the world of Harry Potter, and those of his kind were wizards, not the Muggles in town.
Outside the window, Dumbledore was only startled for a moment. "I'm sorry. I don't think this is the proper way to pay a visit. I ought to have used the front door. I was simply a little surprised-could you open the window first and let me inside to talk? It could be a little troublesome if someone spotted me."
Lorne immediately opened the window, pulled his chair back a little, and stepped aside with a gesture inviting him in.
But the window really was a little small. Dumbledore's burly frame squeezing through looked as comical as Santa Claus climbing down a chimney, and his voluminous white robes even knocked Lorne's notebook off the desk.
Once Dumbledore was standing steadily, he waved his wand, and the scattered desktop was immediately tidy again.
Lorne's eyes lit up. It was the Reparo spell.
He immediately demonstrated the hospitality of Easterners from a later era, bringing the leather chair he had modified over to Dumbledore.
"Oh! Thank you." Dumbledore readily sat down, then used magic to draw over a nearby chair for Lorne. "You know, climbing through windows really is strenuous work for an old man."
Looking at Dumbledore, who was neither flushed nor out of breath, Lorne nodded blindly.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Albus Dumbledore, currently the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have come to tell you something-"
"My sincerest apologies, Mr. Myles. There were some problems with our Quill of Acceptance and Book of Admittance. You should have received a letter and enrolled many years ago. This was a very serious educational failure, causing you to miss the ideal age for an education."
"I have come both to express Hogwarts' apologies and to extend an invitation to you once again. I hope you will put this behind you and come to study at Hogwarts."
Lorne nearly agreed on the spot, but the progress in the quest panel reminded him: did this Power of Emotion refer to emotional fluctuations produced by wizards?
He asked tentatively, "Headmaster Dumbledore, were you surprised by my age just now?"
"Just call me Professor," Dumbledore corrected him before readily admitting, "Yes. The Quill of Acceptance has still not indicated your existence. It was Minerva who saw your name in the Book of Admittance, marked as 'the forgotten one.' To be honest, before meeting you, I thought you would be a child of thirteen or fourteen. After all, such a serious oversight has never occurred in Hogwarts' history."
Lorne nodded. It seemed this so-called Power of Emotion was the emotional fluctuations wizards experienced because of him. So far, surprise was known to be included.
"But Professor," Lorne said with a wry smile, "I'm already twenty-one this year. I'd feel very awkward if you had me attend classes with a group of eleven-year-old children."
Lorne had worked it out almost instantly. Being a Hogwarts student came with far too many restrictions: classes, a curfew, and not many people he could interact with. Collecting the Power of Emotion would certainly be slow. He had to negotiate certain privileges for himself.
Besides, attending classes with those little children really would be embarrassing, like being held back a grade. Surely he, a grown man, couldn't be reprimanded by a professor in front of a bunch of children.
"Indeed." Dumbledore stroked his beard. "Minerva said the same thing. Do you have any ideas, Mr. Myles?"
Lorne rapidly searched his mind for a position that would be leisurely enough to leave him time to study, let him interact more with students, and even allow him to organize large events.
Hogwarts did not seem to have one. Every position he knew of already had its own occupant.
His eyes suddenly lit up. I've got it!
"Professor, I don't know whether you're familiar with this position." Lorne rubbed his nose. "I'd like to serve as director of the General Affairs Office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"Director of the General Affairs Office? What does the job entail?"
Lorne grinned. Wasn't this where his work experience before transmigrating came in handy?
"The General Affairs Office is an indispensable part of the organizational structure. It is responsible for overall coordination and liaison, administrative management and logistical support, document processing and information flow, personnel management and public relations. It can establish a sound cyclical system within the organizational structure and feed back into professional utilization rates, achieving oxygenation and ecological integration of talent..."
"Stop, stop, stop." Dumbledore rubbed his brow and complained quietly, "How is it that I know every word, but can't understand them when they're put together...?"
"Mr. Myles, I sincerely invite you to join Hogwarts as its-"
"Director of the General Affairs Office," Lorne prompted.
"Yes, director of the General Affairs Office." Dumbledore's expression grew serious. "But you must also promise to study the first-year curriculum. We will arrange a separate room for your end-of-year examinations."
"No problem, Professor." Lorne gladly agreed.