July 21st, 1991.
Early morning.
101 Garden Street, South Kensington, London.
Behind a white wooden fence stood a three-story detached villa.
Its grand entrance, sweeping archway, and elegant gables spoke of wealth at a glance.
South Kensington was one of London’s most prestigious neighborhoods.
The residents were successful professionals at the very least—lawyers, dentists, anesthetists, and other members of Britain’s comfortable upper-middle class.
Even among such expensive homes, Number 101 was exceptional.
The property occupied nearly twice the land of the neighboring houses and included a spacious backyard, a luxury in London.
At that moment, the villa’s owner sat in the living room, locked in a silent staring contest with an unusually round owl.
The owl stared back.
One minute passed.
Neither side blinked.
At last, apparently deciding the human before it was hopelessly lacking in manners, the owl dropped the letter clutched in its talons and launched itself through the open window.
Before leaving, it thoughtfully deposited a small gift onto Alvin’s floor to express its disappointment at not being offered a snack.
Alvin watched the bird disappear into the morning sky before lowering his gaze to the envelope in his hands.
His eyes traced the neatly written address.
“Mr.
Alvin Gaunt, The Drawing Room, 101 Garden Street.” His fingers tightened slightly around the parchment.
An owl-delivered letter.
A cream-colored envelope.
And stamped across the seal was a familiar crest bearing a lion, a serpent, a badger, and an eagle.
The evidence couldn’t have been more obvious.
For a long moment, Alvin simply sat there.
His emotions were a tangled knot of disbelief, excitement, and anxiety.
For eleven years, he had believed he’d been reincarnated into ordinary Britain in 1980.
Apparently, he couldn’t have been more wrong.
This wasn’t ordinary Britain.
This was the world of Harry Potter.
Hogwarts.
Magic.
Wizards.
Witches.
Hermione.
Luna.
Fleur— Alvin immediately cut off that train of thought.
Focus.
The people weren’t the important part.
The magic was.
His previous life had been painfully ordinary.
He had been one of countless office workers trapped in an endless cycle of overtime, deadlines, and exhaustion.
Then one day, he worked himself to death.
When he opened his eyes again, he was lying in a London orphanage.
An orphan.
The classic protagonist background.
Naturally, Alvin had expected some miraculous cheat ability to awaken.
A powerful system.
An ancient inheritance.
A mysterious mentor.
Something.
Anything.
Nothing happened.
One year passed.
Then five.
Then eleven.
No system.
No mentor.
No hidden treasure.
Fortunately, reincarnation had left him with an exceptional memory and unusually strong mental abilities.
Combined with a few strange talents he had never been able to explain, he managed to thrive despite his circumstances.
Drawing on fragments of financial knowledge from his previous life, he gradually helped establish an investment company.
As for how an orphaned child had managed such a feat…
Alvin preferred not to think too hard about it.
The orphanage director had been a genuinely kind person and had handled all public-facing matters.
Alvin merely provided ideas from the shadows while pretending to be an unusually clever child.
The arrangement had worked remarkably well.
After donating a portion of the company’s profits back to the orphanage every year, he still earned several hundred thousand pounds annually.
Two years ago, he’d purchased this house and moved out on his own.
His plans for the future had been simple.
Make money.
Invest wisely.
Capitalize on a few future market opportunities.
Perhaps buy stakes in emerging technology companies.
Then spend the rest of his life comfortably.
Peacefully.
Wealthily.
Nothing too ambitious.
Then an owl had arrived carrying a Hogwarts acceptance letter.
So much for that plan.
A smile tugged at Alvin’s lips despite himself.
The excitement was real.
The anxiety was even more real.
He wasn’t a die-hard Harry Potter fan.
In his previous life, he’d watched all the films and read enough related material to understand the setting, but many details had long since faded from memory.
Even so, he remembered the broad outline of events.
And one fact stood out above all else.
This world was dangerous.
It was currently 1991.
That meant he would enter Hogwarts alongside Harry Potter.
The first four years shouldn’t be too bad.
As long as he stayed away from Dumbledore, Harry, and the Golden Trio’s increasingly absurd adventures, there was a good chance he could enjoy a relatively normal school life.
Most of Harry’s early disasters required either astonishing bad luck or a remarkable tendency to sprint directly toward danger.
Alvin possessed neither quality.
Unfortunately, fifth year was another matter entirely.
That was when Dolores Umbridge arrived.
Everything became far messier after that.
By sixth and seventh year, Hogwarts practically turned into a war zone.
The rest of the Wizarding World wasn’t much safer.
Still…
Magic.
The word alone was enough to quicken his heartbeat.
Who could possibly resist it?
Even in his previous life, the magical world had fascinated him.
Now he had the opportunity to step into it himself.
To learn real magic.
To uncover its secrets.
To witness wonders that most people could only imagine.
The temptation was impossible to ignore.
Maybe he could stay until he completed his O.W.L.s.
After that, he could disappear somewhere remote and wait for the war to blow over.
A perfectly reasonable plan.
Probably.
With that comforting thought in mind, Alvin opened the envelope and unfolded the letter inside.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class; Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards; Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot) Dear Mr.
Gaunt, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
In addition, due to your family circumstances, a member of staff will visit your residence on July 31st to answer any questions you may have regarding the wizarding world.
Yours sincerely, Professor Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress The instant he finished reading, a soft chime rang out in his mind.
Ding.
A mechanical voice followed.
[Host has made contact with the world’s supernatural system.
Scanning world…] Ding.
[Scan complete.
Customizing system according to local laws and magical framework.] [Customization complete.] [Magic Card System activated.] [Welcome to the Magic Card System.] [This system possesses no independent consciousness and cannot provide strategic analysis or personal guidance.] [The system contains no punishment mechanisms.
Please use it freely.] Alvin froze.
Then the corner of his mouth twitched.
So that was it.
His cheat ability had never been missing.
It had simply been waiting.
Waiting for him to make contact with the supernatural side of the world.
Honestly, that explained quite a lot.
Better late than never.
A Hogwarts acceptance letter and a system awakening on the same day.
The odds of surviving the coming years had just improved considerably.
Without hesitation, Alvin spoke aloud.
“System.
Introduce yourself.
And while you’re at it, hand over my compensation package and beginner rewards.
You’ve been eleven years late.” Years of reading web novels had prepared him thoroughly for moments like this.
Ding.
[System has remained dormant for eleven years.] [Accumulated energy has been divided equally between host and system.] [Compensation awarded: 5,000 Gold.] Alvin’s expression stiffened.
Divided equally?
In other words, the system had quietly pocketed half.
What a shameless operation.
The mechanical voice continued as though nothing were wrong.
[Beginner Gift Pack detected.] [Would you like to open it?] “Open it.” [Opening Beginner Gift Pack…] [Congratulations.] [Reward obtained: One Bloodline Origin Tracing Opportunity.] [Bloodline activated: Wizard Spirit Bloodline.] The moment the notification appeared, a scorching wave surged through Alvin’s body.
Heat flooded every muscle, every bone, every nerve.
For a split second, it felt as though molten lava had erupted beneath his skin.
Then it vanished.
The pain disappeared as abruptly as it had come.
Silence returned.
Alvin slowly closed his eyes.
The strange energy he had sensed throughout his life—the power he now recognized as magic—had always felt distant.
Vague.
Difficult to grasp.
Like hearing the faint murmur of a river flowing somewhere deep underground.
Now everything was different.
Magic flowed through him with startling clarity.
It felt closer.
Stronger.
More responsive.
Like a clear stream running beneath his fingertips, ready to answer his call at any moment.
When Alvin opened his eyes again, a smile spread across his face.
Bloodline rewards were never simple.
In every fantasy story he’d ever read, powerful bloodlines were among the greatest advantages imaginable.
Legendary physiques.
Divine ancestries.
Ancient inheritances.
Protagonists practically collected them like trophies.
And now he had one of his own.
The Wizard Spirit Bloodline.
Whatever its full potential might be, one thing was already clear.
His sensitivity to magic and his control over it had improved dramatically.
That alone was invaluable.
With enough time, he might even develop some means of protecting himself before Hogwarts officially began.
The reward was worth it for that reason alone.
A moment later, Alvin turned his attention back to the system.
“System,” he asked, “what exactly is Gold used for?” Despite his satisfaction, he still couldn’t help feeling slightly annoyed about the compensation issue.
The thing had really taken half the accumulated energy for itself.
Still.
Considering how generous the Beginner Gift Pack had been, he decided to let the matter go.
For now.