"When Harry was in his sixth year, he got Snape's old textbook and practically turned potion-making into a cheat code. But my eyes… they're way more ridiculous than Snape's book."
Sean had great confidence in these strange eyes of his.
Now eleven years old, Sean had received his Hogwarts acceptance letter two days ago. Since then, more and more people had been coming to the Leaky Cauldron just to see him.
"So he's Sean Grylls? The boy who's as famous as Harry Potter?" asked a middle-aged man with red hair.
"That's right, Arthur," Old Tom replied.
Sean knew exactly who the red-haired man was, along with the woman beside him and their three children.
The Weasley family—one of the twenty-eight sacred pure-blood families in the wizarding world.
"The Boy Who Lived? Please. The Grylls family are all traitors. If you ask me, the only reason he survived Bellatrix is because his father made some kind of deal with the Death Eaters," a wizard sitting nearby sneered.
Sean's grandfather had betrayed the Ministry of Magic.
Sean's father had betrayed the Death Eaters.
Because of this, both sides despised the Grylls family.
Some people even called Sean the Son of Betrayal.
The situation left Sean feeling unwelcome on both sides.
Fortunately, his soul wasn't that of a child. Otherwise, hearing such things day after day might have driven him into depression.
"Don't listen to them, dear," said the woman beside Arthur kindly. "Your parents were brave people. They fought for what was right."
The Weasleys had known Sean's parents.
The Grylls couple had betrayed the Death Eaters and joined the Order of the Phoenix. Though they had only served for six months, even when facing death they refused to reveal the location of the Order's headquarters to Bellatrix.
"It's alright, Mrs. Weasley. I'm used to it by now," Sean said calmly.
Over the past few years, all sorts of wizards had come through the Leaky Cauldron. Some praised him, others insulted him.
But Sean was a transmigrator.
He didn't care much about what they said.
"You know who I am?" Molly asked, a little surprised.
"The red hair of the Weasley family—I've heard plenty about it from the people in the bar," Sean said, glancing at the family's unmistakable hair color.
"Look at this child—so clever," Molly praised warmly.
Behind her, the twin boys George and Fred stuck their tongues out at Sean and pulled silly faces.
Not long after Sean arrived in this world, he realized that this body was two years older than Harry Potter.
That meant when he went to Hogwarts, he would be in the same year as the Weasley twins—and Cedric Diggory.
"Looks like Hogwarts won't be boring at all."
Sean knew very well how talented the twins were at causing trouble.
During the oppressive time when Umbridge later took control of Hogwarts, it was those two prank geniuses who brought laughter back to the students.
And then there was Cedric.
An outstanding student in the same year—one who would ultimately die before the Triwizard Cup.
If possible, Sean didn't want either Fred or Cedric to die.
He could only do his best to prevent those tragedies.
Sean had started practicing magic when he was five and a half years old.
By now, he had already self-studied the Hogwarts curriculum from first to third year.
All using ancient, battered textbooks bought from junk shops—books so worn they might as well have been family heirlooms.
First-year spells weren't difficult.
After all, Hermione had already taught herself several simple spells before even starting school.
But by third year, the spells became more complicated. Some magical frameworks were difficult even for Sean to understand.
So he often took advantage of opportunities to help Old Tom at the bar, striking up conversations with wizards who came to drink.
Over the years, the bald wizard Jamie had become quite familiar with Sean.
Sean would chat casually with him, then carefully steer the conversation toward spells he didn't understand.
Whenever Jamie demonstrated a spell, Sean would focus intensely, memorizing the structure of the magical framework forming on the wand.
Of course, customers in a bar were nothing like professors in a classroom.
Jamie didn't come every day, and most wizards weren't particularly patient teachers.
So after five and a half years of self-study and sneaky observation, Sean had only managed to complete the spellwork curriculum for the first three years.
And that was only spells.
There was no way to study subjects like Potions in the Leaky Cauldron.
"Sean, you received your Hogwarts letter too, right? We're heading to Diagon Alley to buy first-year textbooks. Want to come with us?" Molly asked.
Sean nodded.
He didn't need to buy textbooks—his pile of worn-out books would do just fine.
But he still hadn't bought a wand.
Although Ollivanders was just behind the Leaky Cauldron, Sean couldn't buy one until he had received his Hogwarts letter.
At that moment, a dirty-looking blond man with narrow eyes walked over.
He pulled ten Galleons out of his greasy pocket and handed them to Sean.
"Uncle Hearns."
"Sean, go buy your wand," Hearns said.
He had placed all his hopes on Sean.
Hearns himself was a Squib, unable to use magic.
The Grylls family could only continue through Sean.
"Little Sean," Old Tom called out.
A gray cloth pouch flew from behind the counter.
Sean caught it easily.
Judging by the weight, there were at least twenty Galleons inside.
Sean smiled toward Old Tom.
"Kind Old Tom, thank you."
"Kid, go buy yourself a new robe too. You're a celebrity after all—the Boy Who Lived."
Sean couldn't help thinking that Old Tom was usually incredibly stingy.
The man shamelessly used him as child labor all the time.
Yet somehow, he turned out to be quite kind.
Unlike Harry, Sean hadn't inherited anything from his parents.
They had left nothing behind.
And his uncle Hearns was poor as well.
The ten Galleons he had given Sean were already a huge sacrifice.
"Mom, I want a new robe too," George and Fred said in perfect unison.
Molly smiled awkwardly.
"George, Fred, let's go."
Sean knew the Weasley family had many children, and raising them all cost a fortune.
The younger brothers often had to wear their older brothers' old clothes.
Sean followed the Weasley family through the magical brick wall behind the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley, one of the most famous commercial streets in the wizarding world.
Sean was already very familiar with this place.
The Weasley family headed straight for Flourish and Blotts Bookshop, but Sean called out to Molly.
"Mrs. Weasley, I think I'll skip the bookstore. I already have my textbooks. I just need a wand and wizard robes."
Molly nodded.
"Alright then. See you later at Ollivanders."
Sean walked down the street with practiced familiarity until he reached the wand shop founded in 382 B.C.—Ollivanders.
When he pushed open the door, the shop owner, Garrick Ollivander, was standing on a ladder searching through boxes of wands.
"Ollivander," Sean called softly.
"Ah, little Sean," Ollivander replied without even turning around.
He recognized Sean's voice immediately.
For a boy who had grown up in the Leaky Cauldron, every shopkeeper in Diagon Alley knew him.
"I received my Hogwarts letter," Sean said.
Ollivander immediately understood.
He pulled a wand box from a dusty, cobweb-covered shelf.
"Fourteen inches. Holly wood. Dragon heartstring core."
Sean took the wand.
For the past five and a half years, he had only memorized magical frameworks.
He had never actually cast a spell with a wand before.
The moment he held it, he felt as if his magic had finally found an outlet.
"Give it a wave," Ollivander instructed.
Sean nodded.
He didn't just wave it.
He cast a spell.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
His magic flowed through the wand, slowly constructing the magical framework.
The feather on the table began to float under the effect of the Levitation Charm.
The spell worked.
But Sean could clearly feel that the process was awkward and uncomfortable.
Ollivander, however, wasn't surprised at all that Sean could cast magic.
After all, he was born into a wizarding family and had grown up in the Leaky Cauldron.
Old Tom probably taught him a thing or two whenever he had spare time.