Alvin stared at the results screen.
For a long moment, he couldn’t quite process what he was seeing.
The first forty pulls had been a painful march toward the pity guarantee.
Every draw had chipped away at his hopes until he’d nearly accepted that the system was determined to drag him all the way to fifty.
Then the final ten-pull had arrived.
And everything had exploded.
Two Gold cards.
And thanks to the beginner banner’s special effect…
Three Gold rewards in total.
As the dazzling golden light gradually faded, the contents of the cards finally revealed themselves.
Albus Dumbledore Rarity: Gold Talents: Transfiguration: 8 (Legendary) Dark Arts: 8 (Born for Azkaban) Defence Against the Dark Arts: 8 (Champion of Justice) Knowledge: Most Dark Arts Defence Against the Dark Arts Transfiguration Phoenix Rarity: Gold Type: Pet Card Sex: Female Talent: Rebirth Abilities: Healing Tears Magical Absorption Message Delivery Phoenix Travel Gellert Grindelwald Rarity: Gold Talents: Dark Arts: 8 Seer Animagus (Only the two strongest talents displayed.) Knowledge: Most Dark Arts Defence Against the Dark Arts Ancient Dark Magic Alvin leaned back in his chair.
A White Wizard.
A Dark Wizard.
And a phoenix.
What kind of absurd beginner lineup was this?
His gaze lingered on Dumbledore’s card.
The old wizard’s profile was almost ridiculous.
Legendary talent in Transfiguration.
Legendary talent in the Dark Arts.
Legendary talent in Defence Against the Dark Arts.
It was a good reminder that history’s greatest “good” wizards were often terrifyingly proficient in the very magic they opposed.
Then there was the phoenix.
Alvin hadn’t even set foot in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry yet, and he already possessed one of the rarest magical creatures in existence.
Phoenix Travel alone made the card priceless.
If things ever went catastrophically wrong in the future, he would always have a way out.
That left one final decision.
Each Gold Character Card allowed him to inherit a single talent, skill, or category of knowledge.
Dumbledore’s choice was easy.
Defence Against the Dark Arts.
No hesitation.
His current aptitude was respectable, but hardly exceptional.
Improving it would benefit him throughout his entire life.
Grindelwald’s card was a different matter.
Part of him considered choosing Defence Against the Dark Arts again and stacking the bonuses.
Based on what he’d seen so far, Alvin estimated that wizards like Severus Snape, Sirius Black, and James Potter would probably rank around five.
A six would already place him among the elite.
But there was another option.
His eyes drifted toward his Dark Arts talent.
Eight.
Already absurdly high.
If he inherited Grindelwald’s aptitude…
It would become nine.
The highest rank recognized by the system.
Alvin hesitated.
Three seconds later, curiosity won.
“Forget it.” “I can improve my defensive abilities later.” He grinned.
“But how often does someone get the chance to see what a maxed-out Dark Arts talent looks like?” “System.” “Inherit Dumbledore’s Defence Against the Dark Arts talent.” “And Grindelwald’s Dark Arts talent.” [Integration complete.] The notification vanished.
Alvin waited.
A second passed.
Then another.
Nothing happened.
No burst of power.
No divine enlightenment.
No dramatic transformation.
He looked down at himself.
Then looked again.
“…That’s it?” The room remained stubbornly ordinary.
After a moment, he understood.
Talents weren’t knowledge.
They weren’t magical power.
They were potential.
The effects would likely reveal themselves only when he began seriously studying and practicing magic.
With that thought, Alvin turned his attention to the reward he was most excited about.
“Summon the phoenix.” Golden fire erupted into existence.
Flames spiraled outward, expanding into a brilliant ring that illuminated the entire living room.
A heartbeat later, a magnificent bird emerged from the fire.
Gold and crimson feathers shimmered like molten sunlight.
Every movement carried an effortless grace.
The phoenix spread her wings and circled the room once, leaving drifting sparks in her wake before descending lightly onto Alvin’s shoulder.
Then she rubbed her beak against his cheek.
Alvin laughed.
The gesture was surprisingly affectionate.
Reaching up, he gently stroked her feathers.
They were impossibly soft.
The phoenix immediately leaned closer, clearly enjoying the attention.
The pair spent several minutes getting acquainted.
Eventually, Alvin said, “Dumbledore’s phoenix is called Fawkes.” “You should have a name too.” He considered the matter seriously.
After all, naming a legendary magical creature was important.
Very important.
Several possibilities came and went.
Then inspiration struck.
“Fury.” The phoenix tilted her head.
“Eee!” Alvin blinked.
He stared at her.
Then at the majestic golden feathers.
Then back at her.
“…That is not the sound I expected.” Why did a legendary magical creature sound so adorable?
The contrast was almost unfair.
After another round of shameless phoenix petting, Alvin finally turned his attention to the remaining rewards.
Five hundred Galleons.
Numerous spells.
And six Purple-rarity rewards: Transfiguration Knowledge ×1 Potions Knowledge ×1 Special Spell Package ×2 Occlumency ×2 The moment he activated them, information flooded into his mind.
Spell theory.
Magical principles.
Potion ingredients.
Brewing procedures.
Transfiguration formulas.
Casting techniques.
The knowledge merged seamlessly with his existing understanding, as though he had spent years studying it himself.
Alvin closed his eyes.
Silently organizing everything.
Five minutes later, he opened them again.
A satisfied smile appeared.
“Excellent.” The two Occlumency rewards had produced particularly impressive results.
His mastery had advanced dramatically.
He was nowhere near the level of a true master, but he now possessed the equivalent of years of dedicated practice.
At the very least, protecting his surface thoughts should no longer be a problem.
After all, neither Dumbledore nor Snape was likely to perform a full Legilimency probe on an eleven-year-old student.
Probably.
Hopefully.
Alvin decided not to think too hard about that possibility.
Instead, he opened his status panel.
Host: Alvin Gaunt Age: 11 Birthday: October 31st Identity: Hidden owner of Alvin Investments, future Hogwarts student Bloodline: Wizard Spirit (Awakening) Magic Power: 7 Magical Items: None Charms Talent: 5 (Outstanding) Defence Against the Dark Arts Talent: 5 (Outstanding) Divination Talent: 0 (Troll) …
Dark Arts Talent: 9 (Dark Lord Incarnate) Gold: 0 Alvin studied the screen.
One spending spree.
That was all it had taken.
A single summoning session had transformed him completely.
According to the system, most young witches and wizards entered Hogwarts with a Magic Power value of around one.
The average adult wizard ranked around five.
Which meant Alvin’s magical reserves now exceeded those of most grown wizards.
Of course, magical power wasn’t everything.
Without knowledge, skill, and experience, even a powerful wizard could be defeated by someone with weaker reserves but superior technique.
Still.
It was an excellent foundation.
The following days passed quickly.
Without a wand—and without any wandless magic rewards—there was little practical spellcasting he could attempt.
Instead, he focused on studying.
Transfiguration.
Potions.
Theoretical magic.
The system’s Knowledge Cards weren’t all-encompassing.
Most seemed roughly equivalent to material taught during the first few years at Hogwarts.
However, duplicate rewards deepened his understanding.
Concepts became clearer.
Connections became easier to see.
Knowledge that had once felt memorized gradually became intuitive.
Most importantly, the system imposed no artificial limits.
Knowledge gained through cards could still be expanded through study.
Skills could still improve through practice.
The system accelerated growth.
It didn’t replace it.
Before Alvin realized it, July 31st had arrived.
At precisely nine o’clock that morning, the doorbell rang.
Ding-dong.
Ding-dong.
Alvin immediately sat up straighter.
The Hogwarts representative had arrived.
The only question was who.
Curious, he crossed the hallway and opened the front door.
A tall man stood outside.
Black hair framed a pale, gaunt face.
A hooked nose.
Thin lips.
Dark robes that billowed lightly in the morning breeze.
The overall effect was remarkably similar to an oversized bat.
Alvin recognized him instantly.
Severus Snape.
Fortunately, years of business negotiations had taught him how to keep a straight face.
“Can I help you?” Snape inclined his head slightly.
His expression remained composed and unreadable.
“Good morning, Mr.
Gaunt.” His voice was smooth and faintly raspy.
“My name is Severus Snape.
I am the Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Head of Slytherin House.” His dark eyes briefly swept across Alvin.
“I have come to introduce you to the world to which you truly belong.” A short pause followed.
“And to assist you in acquiring the supplies required for your education.” Alvin allowed a measured amount of surprise to appear on his face.
Not too much.
Just enough.
“Professor Snape.” Stepping aside, he gestured toward the interior of the villa.
“Please come in.” He smiled lightly.
“I received the letter, but if I’m being honest, I wasn’t entirely sure whether I should believe it.” His gaze flicked toward Snape’s robes.
“Now that you’re standing here, though, I’m beginning to think magic might actually be real.” For the briefest moment, something unreadable flickered in Snape’s eyes.
Alvin opened the door wider.
“Let’s talk inside.”