Night had grown late, and trucks rolled over the wet road outside with a low roar. London was being reshaped by finance, and Canary Wharf was on the rise, but the street around the orphanage still had uncollected garbage bags piled along it. Inside, the smell of disinfectant never faded, yet it could not hide the stale air, and the exhausted caregivers kept watch while the children stayed alert like injured animals.
Sean was curled up in an old, cheap synthetic blanket, sleeping deeply. Just moments earlier, he had tested the green talent he had unlocked, and the result left him stunned. All he wanted to say was a single thought about how hard his life had been before.
He had learned that three practices could count as one correct practice, and that wizards could sense the sounds of spell pronunciation. For example, he had always thought Scourgify was spoken as "Scour g ify," but then wondered why it could not be "S cour g ify" instead. In a strange, focused state, he gained his first Skilled result with a full ten points of proficiency.
Progress that once took him five days now took five seconds. He finally understood why this world valued talent so much, even if only a little. Tomorrow was the day Professor McGonagall would come to take him away, and he hoped he could perform well enough to reach at least the lowest line for a scholarship.
What were the scholarship standards for first year students at Hogwarts anyway. Sean did not know, but he was sure he would reach them. As long as he kept practicing magic, he believed he could stand at the top someday, and with those thoughts, he fell into a heavy sleep.
On the morning of September 1, 1991, Sean was finally leaving the orphanage behind. He packed his clothes quickly, finding that only two shirts and two pairs of trousers were still usable, while the rest were either too big or too small. When he dragged his cheap suitcase to the door, he was surprised to see how little there was that truly belonged to him.
"Sean, you had better not come crawling back because you cannot pay your fees," Nurse Anna shouted with her usual sharp tone as she twisted her heavy body. "At that point, you will regret it."
"I will not trouble you, Square Auntie," Sean shot back. "I hope you do not get laid off soon, but with your record, you probably will." He dashed for the door at once, leaving behind only Nurse Anna's shrill curses, which he could not fully understand and assumed were insults.
He let out a breath as he ran, feeling relief at finally talking back to the woman who had ignored his illness and played a part in his death. No one in this world knew about the original body's end, and Sean alone carried that knowledge, so he took this as a small repayment. Smiling, he jogged to the peeling painted door where the faded sign of Oak Children's Home hung crooked and shook dust into the air.
Below the sign stood Professor McGonagall in square glasses, her black hair pinned into a high bun. She wore deep green Robes paired with a Scottish plaid shirt, giving her a strict presence. When she saw the thin boy running toward her, the corner of her mouth still lifted slightly.
"Professor McGonagall, I am sorry to keep you waiting," Sean said as he hurried up to her. His health was poor and even a short run left him short of breath, but he always ran to her all the same. When she had once asked why, he had answered in a voice so soft it was almost lost, "Important people should be met while running."
"You can slow down, Mr. Green, we have plenty of time," Professor McGonagall said, her voice gentler than her expression. She took his hand lightly, then noticed him watching her with careful focus. "S cour g ify," he said, and with a wave of his Wand, the dust vanished from her hair.
"Dirty things should not be above your head," Sean added while still catching his breath. His breathing grew faster after the spell, and his voice was faint but firm. Professor McGonagall looked at him for a moment, surprise and approval clear in her eyes.
"That was a proper Cleaning Charm," Professor McGonagall said as they walked forward together. "How long did it take you to learn it, Mr. Green."
"I learned it yesterday, Professor," Sean replied, lowering his head with caution and doubt. She noticed that tone and smiled as she spoke her encouragement. "You did very well, Mr. Green, and it seems you truly can earn that scholarship."
Sean stayed silent, only lifting his head to look at her with bright eyes before quickly looking away again. Inside, he was celebrating, because from her character, those words meant the scholarship was already halfway secured. His body still needed rest, and the scholarship was the most hopeful source of money he had.
As expected, Professor McGonagall soon revealed the details. "Headmaster Dumbledore has approved it," she said calmly. "If all seven of your subjects reach Outstanding within the first month, you will receive six hundred Galleon from the Scholarship Program."
She watched the boy beside her, waiting for a smile, but Sean lowered his head even more. After a long pause, his weak voice finally spoke. "Thank you, Professor. I know from books that Hogwarts does not usually give scholarships to first year students, so thank you for letting me study magic."
Those were his true feelings, and after he finished, he said nothing more. Professor McGonagall paused, then her heart softened along with her smile. "This is what you deserve, Mr. Green, and you do not need to thank me for it."
She glanced at him and met his careful sideways look for the third time. "How long have you been practicing spells," she asked before they reached the platform.
"Thirteen hours, Professor," Sean answered honestly. Her gaze grew heavier as she followed up. "In total." "Every day," he said.
The station was crowded with noise as Sean dragged his heavy suitcase through the moving crowd. Professor McGonagall's words echoed in his mind about the platform leading to the Hogwarts Express, and although he knew nothing would go wrong, he still felt uneasy. Thinking she might be watching, he clenched his teeth, closed his eyes, and stepped straight into the wall.
From where Professor McGonagall stood, the boy showed no hesitation at all as he headed for it. An aged voice appeared at her side and said, "That child trusts you very much, Minerva." The speaker chuckled and added, "Seven subjects at Outstanding is not easy. Do you believe he can do it."
"Albus, even if only one person at Hogwarts could achieve it, I believe it would be Sean," Professor McGonagall replied with firm eyes. She was still thinking about those thirteen hours every day, a level of effort she herself could not maintain for two straight months. "He is a pitiful child, and also a well behaved one," she said after a pause. "He deserves that scholarship."
Sean carried his suitcase and thought about the problem as he walked. Seven subjects, all Outstanding, sounded heavy even before classes began. He had arrived early, and the first few carriages were still not full.
He found an empty compartment in the second carriage and tried to haul his suitcase inside. He dragged and pulled, but it would not lift, and twice the case fell back to the floor with a dull thud. He stopped where he was and raised his Wand.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
You practiced Levitation Charm once at an introductory standard. Proficiency plus three.
With the spell and the panel sound together, the brick-like suitcase floated up at once. This really was useful. Sean put away his Wand with satisfaction and pulled the suitcase into the compartment.
What he did not notice was a young witch nearby watching him with curiosity. Outside the window, thick smoke from the steam engine drifted above the chattering crowd. Cats of all colors wove between people's feet, while owls hooted among the noise of voices and heavy luggage.