All seven subjects with Outstanding grades?
Shawn carried his suitcase up the corridor, the thought looping in his mind like a difficult riddle.
He had arrived early, and the first few carriages were still half-empty. Finding a vacant compartment in the second car, he tried to lift his heavy suitcase onto the rack—but after two failed attempts, it crashed back to the floor both times with a loud thud.
Shawn paused, then silently drew his wand.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
[You have practiced the Levitation Charm at novice level. Proficiency +3]
As the spell left his lips, the box immediately floated upward like a feather—his panel tone echoed faintly in his ears.
Still the best invention ever.
Satisfied, he lowered the suitcase into place, then tucked away his wand. He didn't notice the curious pair of eyes from the hallway—a young witch standing there, watching.
Outside, steam drifted over the busy platform. Voices overlapped with the hissing of the engine; the air was alive with chatter, laughter, and the soft mewling of cats darting between travelers' legs. Owls hooted in echoing harmony overhead.
Shawn opened a thick volume that took up half the small table—"Hogwarts: A History."
One page listed the seven core courses of Hogwarts:
Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, and Astronomy.
All seven were compulsory.
How could he achieve "Outstanding" in all of them? Shawn searched for a reference point—and found one: Hermione Granger, the top student of the trio.
If memory served, she had scored nine "O"s (Outstanding) and one "E" (Exceeds Expectations) at her O.W.L. exams. Her performance had always been flawless. Comparing himself to her would be the best gauge.
Was that hard?
Of course. His magical aptitude was abysmal. Everything—except maybe History of Magic—required actual talent.
But impossible?
If he couldn't do it even with his system panel, he might as well hit his head on a wall.
"Just grind harder!"
He smiled grimly, deciding where to begin.
"Then… Transfiguration first."
Sinking into the velvet-cushioned seat, Shawn set the history book aside and pulled out "Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration." A maroon, gold-embossed tome, it outlined the theory and technique of transforming objects—a first- and second-year textbook.
The most classic example? Turning a matchstick into a needle.
If he could manage that within a month, he'd secure an Outstanding easily.
He read carefully:
"During transfiguration, a firm and decisive wand movement is crucial.
Avoid unnecessary gestures—hesitation leads to failure.
Visualize your target form clearly before casting.
Beginners should speak the incantation aloud; advanced wizards may only need to think it."
Shawn studied every line. His plan was to memorise all 200 pages before even attempting the spell.
After all, Hermione once memorized every textbook before term even began—and excelled because of it.
If she succeeded that way, why couldn't he?
With his lack of talent, hard work was his only path forward.
There was another motivation too: those books had cost him eleven Galleons—a painful sum. To justify that expense, he devoured every word like someone trying to "get his money's worth from a buffet."
Hours passed unnoticed. One by one, he had mentally gone over every book he owned. The Transfiguration text was almost complete—about 180 of 200 pages done.
"Just one more chapter," he murmured to himself. If he finished today, he could begin practice tomorrow.
For a boy who'd only ever been an average student in his past life, the thought made him marvel.
Poverty truly makes people limitless.
Steam blurred the platform outside. So absorbed was he that he didn't notice when a young witch pushed open the compartment door.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"
A brown-haired girl with a fluffy halo of curls stood at the door, chin lifted confidently.
"No," Shawn replied shortly.
He didn't even glance up, still mouthing lines from the textbook. Six months in the orphanage had taught him fierce focus—when your life was out of your control, concentration became the only freedom left.
After that brief reply, silence returned. The train slowly rumbled to life; now there were three people in the compartment. Even then, Shawn didn't move.
Outside, the landscape blurred past like a painting: winding rivers, rippling waves of golden wheat, distant cottages, and grazing cattle, all swallowed now and then by deep green hills.
Hermione alternated her gaze between her own book, the passing scenery, and the quiet boy across from her.
His slightly messy hair framed dark eyes that glimmered under long lashes. His small, composed figure had an inexplicable calm about it.
"He really looks like my cat," a black-haired boy beside her muttered suddenly. "I mean, I know wizards aren't cats, but still…"
Hermione brightened instantly, nodding vigorously. Their eyes met—two excited minds finding unexpected agreement.
"Justin, that's exactly the word!" she said with delight.
Justin grinned, and the two dove into an animated whispering discussion.
Meanwhile, Shawn—blissfully unaware he'd become the topic—continued reading, bathed in the rhythm of the train's rocking motion.
The only sounds were the shuffling of pages, murmured voices, and the hum of the wheels on the tracks.
Finally, Shawn closed the book with a quiet clap, rubbed his sore eyes, and whispered,
"I'm ready."
Setting Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration aside, he drew a match from his robe pocket. In his mind, the image of the matchstick unfolded—its shape, weight, grain. The logic of transformation from past-world theories combined with spell knowledge in perfect clarity.
"Trans—figura—tion!"
Confidence steadied his tone. The wand arced sharply—but the match only trembled slightly, unchanged.
Shawn smiled anyway.
[You practiced Basic Transfiguration at novice level. Proficiency +3.]
"What did he just say? And what is he doing?" whispered Justin, eyebrows raised.
"It looks like… Transfiguration," Hermione muttered, clutching her sleeve nervously. "But the book says it's dangerous! If he mispronounces even slightly, horrible things could happen!"
Before she could intervene—
[You practiced Basic Transfiguration at proficient level. Proficiency +10.]
[You practiced Basic Transfiguration at proficient level. Proficiency +10.]
Again and again—the rhythm of success. The spell grew steady, fluid, alive in his hands.
Magic… felt easy?
Could I be a Transfiguration prodigy?!
[You practiced Basic Transfiguration at proficient level. Proficiency +10.]
[Basic Transfiguration Unlocked.]
[New Transfiguration Title Unlocked. View details.]
[A new Wizard Talent has been unlocked. View details.]
The faint ding of the system echoed in his mind.
Scholarship fragment: obtained.
Then came a sharp shout—
"You can't use dangerous spells here! You're not ready for that yet!"
Hermione's voice trembled slightly but carried stern authority.
In the same heartbeat, the matchstick quivered—then gleamed into a silver needle, its tip shining sharply under the light.
For one suspended moment, even the air went still. Hermione's words caught in her throat.
"Merlin's beard…" Justin gasped. "I've read about that transformation. Did he just—succeed?"
Shawn looked up, puzzled, meeting Hermione's wide eyes—her ears tinged pink from surprise—and Justin's stare of disbelief.
"Sorry," Shawn said mildly, "could you repeat that? I didn't quite hear you."
He hadn't caught a thing—completely lost in the magic.
(End of Chapter)