Ethan White—short black hair, both hands gripping the edge of his desk—stared in disbelief at the uninvited guest before him: a large, fat owl with tawny-brown markings.
It had burst into the room like a whirlwind moments ago, circled once, dropped an envelope, and then landed on the desk of its own accord to peck at the honey cream balls in their box.
The envelope was made of yellowed parchment, heavy in the hand, with lines of address written in emerald-green ink.
Lancashire.
Town of Thirsk.
7 Willow Street.
Mr.
Ethan White.
Ethan quietly dragged the envelope closer, read the writing, then flipped it over.
A deep crimson wax seal bore a coat of arms in the shape of a shield—a prominent capital “H” at its center, surrounded by a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a serpent.
“Hogwarts?
Is this for real?” Ethan murmured.
“This isn’t a prank, is it?” He’d lived in the little town of Thirsk for years, always assuming he’d simply been reborn into a perfectly ordinary foreign country.
Before receiving this letter, he’d already mapped out his life through age twenty-five.
He’d even given thought to where he’d eventually settle down.
Ethan swallowed hard and broke the seal.
The parchment gleamed softly in the candlelight, its text neat and solemn: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (…) Dear Mr.
White, 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.
Term begins on 1 September.
We await your owl no later than 31 July to confirm your attendance.
Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall … “Hss—so formal.
Is this actually real or not?” Ethan still couldn’t bring himself to believe it.
A faint dark gleam flickered in his pupils.
[Hogwarts Acceptance Letter] [Exchange Value: 1 (Magic Affinity)] Ethan froze for a moment.
Over the years, he’d long grown accustomed to this “exchange” mechanism—whenever he came into contact with certain special objects, he could obtain attribute points.
This letter could be exchanged too?
Then that meant… it was genuine?
[Magic Affinity: +1] [Rare Attribute Unlocked: Magic, Initial Value: 2] [Attribute Unlocked: Magic Affinity, Initial Value: 3] [Attribute Unlocked: Spell Resistance, Initial Value: 3] [Ethan White] [Stamina: 5.
Intelligence: 7.
Strength: 5.
Agility: 3.
Magic: 2.
Magic Affinity: 4.
Physical Resistance: 3.
Spell Resistance: 3.] [Random Potential: 0] [Free Potential: 0] [Random Exchange EXP: 76/100] [Free Exchange EXP: 76/300] Ethan’s heart instantly hammered like a drum.
“Strange—ever since I can remember, I’ve never noticed anyone in the family acting unusual… But since the letter was addressed to me, that means I have the potential to become a wizard.
So either my family has produced a wizard before, or I’m like Hermione—a freak who popped up in an ordinary family?” He frowned suddenly, recalling the novels he’d read in his previous life.
“It’s 1991.
If I remember right, Harry Potter also entered Hogwarts this year, and then Voldemort started causing trouble—once a year.
First year, he got Quirrell killed.” Ethan scratched his head, a vague sense of unease creeping in.
The movies were thrilling, and Harry’s life was certainly colorful, but the people around him didn’t seem to fare nearly as well.
Take the Weasley children, for instance.
One was disfigured, one lost an ear, one lost his life, and another nearly lost his too… Good grief, how many kids did that family even have?
Ethan muttered to himself as he unfolded the second sheet of parchment that had come with the letter.
This page was packed with writing.
He read through it carefully, and his scalp tingled.
“School robes, hat, gloves, cloak, eight sets of books, a wand, a cauldron… So much stuff… Good Lord, how much is all this going to cost?” “Thank goodness Hogwarts doesn’t charge tuition or room and board, or how would I even afford to go…” The White family ran a tiny cake shop in town.
They got by, but just barely—”comfortable” would have been a generous description.
Asking an ordinary family like theirs to produce such a large sum all at once would, in all likelihood, tip the scales toward enrolling at a local state school instead.
What’s more, the Whites probably weren’t a wizarding family.
There was no telling how they’d react to the whole concept.
“I can’t pin all my hopes on the family.
I need to fight for this myself.
Magic school—I’m going, no matter what!” Ethan looked down at his small palms.
“Maybe I can ask the school whether they have some kind of financial aid?” He couldn’t help glancing at the glutton on his desk.
The fat bird had its neck craned back, swallowing the last honey cream ball.
Staring at the empty candy box, Ethan shot the owl a glare.
Eating that much—aren’t you worried about cavities?
The owl still seemed unsatisfied.
It cocked its head and fixed Ethan with a stare, its throat producing insistent cooing sounds.
“Oh!
Right!
The reply!” Yes!
He needed to write a reply immediately!
This was about whether he’d get to learn magic!
Ethan hurriedly pulled out a sheet of paper, gathered his thoughts for a moment, and carefully wrote several lines: “Dear Professor McGonagall, I am deeply honored to have received the Hogwarts acceptance letter and look forward to beginning on the first of September.
However, before that, I would like to apply to the school for a financial aid grant, for the following reasons…” Ethan wasn’t one to beat around the bush, but he made every letter as round and full as he could manage—pleasing to the eye.
That way, perhaps the recipient would be in a good enough mood to grant his modest request on the spot.
When the letter was finished, he waited patiently for the ink to dry, then folded it carefully and let the owl take it in its beak.
The owl, reply secured, showed no attachment whatsoever.
It turned, spread its wings, and flew off into the vast night.
Ethan rushed to the window and gazed expectantly in the direction the owl had vanished.