Bypassing a few blocks, Silan skillfully took a shortcut and soon returned to the orphanage where he lived.
This orphanage was founded by the kind-hearted Mrs.
Hazel, who had taken in several children with no relatives or friends.
Mrs.
Hazel was a devout believer who had been involved in charity work since her youth.
In her later years, she poured all her savings into establishing this orphanage.
Because of its age, the plaster on the walls was peeling off in chunks.
“Oh, young Prewett, you’re back.
Hungry, aren’t you?” Mrs.
Hazel greeted Silan, turning around to fetch half a loaf of bread from inside.
It was topped with a thin layer of meat floss–a rare delicacy in the orphanage.
After all, Mrs.
Hazel was advanced in years, her savings were limited, and with too many children to feed, their material conditions were never good.
Normally, the meat floss on the bread would be scraped off and divided equally among all the children.
“This is for you.
Eat up quickly.” Mrs.
Hazel winked at him, a hint of favoritism showing on her face.
Although she always treated the children fairly, she harbored a special fondness for Silan.
This wasn’t just because the boy constantly went out early and returned late to earn money to subsidize the orphanage, but also because he was polite, sensible, and always helped her look after the other children.
Silan did not refuse her kindness.
Taking the bread, he said, “Thank you, Mrs.
Hazel.” “This is 10 pounds and 17 pence, earned from my divination.” Silan took out half of the money from his pocket, walked a few steps, and then turned back to pull out a sandwich.
“This is a sandwich Miss Granger gave me.
Remember to eat it.” “Where are James and Keeny?” “They’re all waiting for you in the dormitory.” Watching Silan’s retreating figure, Mrs.
Hazel felt a pang of pity.
The boy was still so young; his thin, frail shoulders couldn’t even fill out his old clothes, yet his heart shone like gold, always looking out for others.
Thinking of the heartless Mr.
Prewett who had abandoned him, Mrs.
Hazel felt a surge of anger.
How could anyone bear to abandon such a wonderful child?
As Silan approached the dormitory door, before he could even push it, it swung open on its own.
The tall and fat James shouted at the top of his lungs, “Silan is back!” Instantly, the seven or eight children in the dormitory swarmed to the door, yet they stood perfectly in line on either side, making sure not to block Silan’s path.
“These are sandwiches from Miss Granger.
Share them among yourselves.” Silan set the sandwiches down.
The children all stared at the sandwiches in his hands; to them, this was a rare treat.
But none of them dared to scramble for it.
They simply swallowed their saliva, their eyes glued to the food as if physically stuck to it.
James, being the tallest and heaviest, picked up the sandwiches, carefully broke them apart, and handed a piece to everyone.
He was always tasked with this duty.
Of course, the largest piece with the most filling was reserved for Silan.
Keeny, who was small and skinny but had bright eyes, didn’t rush to eat.
Instead, he poured a glass of water and handed it to Silan.
“It must have been hard work running the stall, Silan.” “Thank you, Keeny.
Thank you, James.
Go ahead and eat.” Only after hearing Silan’s words did the other children begin to wolf down their food.
James swallowed his sandwich in two bites, then used his tongue to scrape the remnants from his teeth.
Most of the children did the same.
Keeny, however, only ate half, planning to save the rest for tomorrow to help wash down the orphanage’s stale bread.
That way, it would be easier to swallow.
“We did well this time.
We made quite a bit of money.
Divide this among yourselves and buy something you want.” Seeing that they had finished eating, Silan took another 5 pounds from his pocket and handed it to James to distribute.
“Mrs.
Hazel doesn’t know, right?” “Don’t worry, Silan, we’re all pros at this by now.” “Good.
Tell me about what happened on the streets today.” Having eaten the sandwiches and received the money, the children suddenly grew much more energetic.
One by one, they began reporting the various rumors and news they had overheard today.
This was their fixed daily routine.
It was a rule established by Silan.
They were a team.
Or perhaps…
a gang?
The other children were responsible for running errands and gathering information, while Silan was responsible for devising plans and dealing directly with the targets.
Today’s man was their latest target.
A few days ago, Silan had heard about the wife’s infidelity from the other children.
Using that as his core leverage, he lured the man to his stall, revealed the affair under the guise of divination, and gave him advice on how to catch her in the act.
Today, the plan succeeded, bringing in a tidy profit.
When these children had first received money, they had clamored to pull off a massive heist, but Silan had kept them firmly in check.
Pulling petty scams to make some pocket money was justifiable, but if they let it go to their heads and tried to get rich overnight, they would likely end up dead first.
After listening to today’s reports, Silan went to bed.
A few days later, while Silan was still running his stall, he was called back by Keeny.
“I don’t know what it’s about, but Mrs.
Hazel looked incredibly anxious and insisted I bring you back immediately,” Keeny said.
This gave Silan a vague inkling of what was happening.
Returning to the orphanage, Silan could see from a distance Mrs.
Hazel standing on her tiptoes, looking around anxiously.
“Oh, you’re finally back.” Mrs.
Hazel grabbed Silan’s hand.
“A guest wants to see you.
Oh, a very important guest, Silan.
You might be going to school somewhere else.” Going to school somewhere else?
Hogwarts?
While he was pondering, Mrs.
Hazel had already pulled him into the house.
“Respected Professor McGonagall, this is young Prewett.
He is a good boy, really, an exceptionally good one.” Mrs.
Hazel seemed somewhat incoherent, likely due to her excitement.
“He’s a poor, sweet child.
His mother was a good soul too; she used to come here to help out, but she fell gravely ill and passed away a few years ago.
That was when I took him in.” “And his father?” “His father?
Don’t even mention that bastard!
I used to think he was a decent man, but he turned out to be a heartless scoundrel.
He abandoned the mother and son and never came back.
Oh, I can’t forget his name to this day.” The usually gentle Mrs.
Hazel was so angry that her white hair trembled, and she spoke in a terrible tone, “Fabian Prewett!” Hearing that name, McGonagall visibly froze.
Her gaze snapped to Silan, then jerked away as if she had touched a red-hot iron.
“Are you saying–the boy’s father was named Fabian Prewett?” “Yes, yes.
I remember he left ten years ago, saying he had important business to attend to.
And then he never returned!” Ten years ago?
1981!
McGonagall felt her heart rate accelerate significantly, a surge of intense emotion making her head spin.
She could never forget that year.
Too many things had happened in 1981, but one event remained deeply etched in her memory: the Prewett brothers had sacrificed their lives that very year.
Could this really be a coincidence?
“Mrs.
Hazel, could you allow me to speak with the boy alone?” McGonagall spoke with difficulty, trying her best to keep her voice steady, though even she could hear the huskiness in her tone.
“Of course, Professor.
This boy is very bright; I believe he will excel in his studies.
You must accept him.
Please.” “I will, Mrs.
Hazel.” The room fell quiet as the two of them were left alone.
*Silan Prewett.* McGonagall silently repeated the name in her mind.
Ever since she had seen the boy at Hermione Granger’s house, she had been thinking about him.
After all, the boy did bear a striking resemblance to the Prewett brothers.
Furthermore, she was astonished to find that on this year’s student enrollment list, there was indeed a child surnamed Prewett.
But was he truly Fabian Prewett’s son?
Why had she never heard of him before?
The tangled web of thoughts made McGonagall’s head ache, but the string of unbelievable coincidences already had her convinced fifty to sixty percent.
“Have some black tea, Professor McGonagall.
I hope you don’t mind; this is already the best tea we have here.” Silan handed a cup of tea to McGonagall.
Taking the “black tea,” McGonagall only saw a dark, murky broth.
It was easy to imagine that this so-called “black tea” was merely brewed from leftover tea dust and scraps.
“Thank you, child.” McGonagall took a sip of the tea.
“Child, listen to me.
The school you will be attending is Hogwarts.
It is a school of witchcraft and wizardry, and you are a wizard.” After introducing Hogwarts, McGonagall gave him a small demonstration of magic.
Silan’s face registered the perfect amount of shock right on cue.
It was an event he had long anticipated, but he still had to play the part.
“So, if you are willing, you can go to Hogwarts to learn magic.” Silan frowned slightly, appearing to be locked in deep thought.
“What’s wrong, child?” Professor McGonagall asked.
“But Professor, I don’t have any money.” Silan’s words made McGonagall’s heart ache.
Taking a glance at the dilapidated surroundings, McGonagall quickly added, “Of course, Mr.
Prewett, you don’t need to worry about that.
Hogwarts has an educational fund that can support you through your schooling.” “Thank you, Professor McGonagall.” “So, do you accept?” Silan offered a gentle smile and nodded.
McGonagall finally let out a sigh of relief, her usually severe face softening into a rare smile.
“Tomorrow–it’s already a bit late today–tomorrow, I will take you to Diagon Alley to purchase the things you’ll need for school.” — [Total Bonus Chapters Achieved: 0]