July 29, 1990. London, Müller Orphanage.
"As you have already heard, Mr. Kendavia, you are a wizard."
"And now, I must ask you—are you willing to attend Hogwarts, study magic, and join the wizarding world?"
Avada Kendavia sat stiffly at the table, tension written into every inch of his posture. On the tabletop before him lay an envelope, stamped with a large letter H, surrounded by four animals: a lion, a serpent, an eagle, and a badger.
On the opposite side of the table sat an elderly man with half-moon spectacles, a slightly crooked aquiline nose, and a shockingly long white beard. Despite his age, his expression was warm and kind. His piercing blue eyes rested gently on the boy before him, waiting patiently for his answer.
Yet Avada Kendavia did not dare to move.
To his senses, Albus Dumbledore felt like a magnificent star—vast, resplendent, and absolute—radiating and commanding all magic and matter around him like a sovereign emperor. Although Dumbledore's face was benevolent and his mental fluctuations clearly showed patience, the sheer presence alone made it difficult for Avada to breathe.
This pressure was not something Dumbledore was deliberately releasing.
It came from Avada's unique talent—Magical Perception.
Avada Kendavia was a transmigrator.
After his brain in this world fully developed and he became capable of clear thought, he realized—with no small amount of shock—that he possessed an extra sense compared to his previous life.
It did not belong to any of the five conventional senses. Instead, it resembled the "spiritual perception" described in cultivation novels. Through this sense, the world appeared as countless intricate lines and patches of color. Every object visible to the eyes had a corresponding structure, and even places that appeared completely empty were filled with orderly, stable lines and blocks of color—simpler, more regulated, yet undeniably present.
The human body alone was different.
Within this perception, each person was surrounded by two radiant halos—one red, one gold—both containing unimaginably complex structures. Yet at their center was nothing at all, as though there were no bones or organs within.
Gradually, Avada discovered that through thought, emotion, speech, and bodily movement, he could influence the golden halo around himself. He could extend it outward, induce specific fluctuations, and allow it to touch and affect the structure of the world itself.
After relentless experimentation, he finally found the structural model representing gravity. By dismantling it with his golden radiance, he managed to make a pen float.
The method was incredibly simple.
Just wave your arm a few times and say: "Wingardium Leviosa."
That was when he realized where he was.
This was the world of Harry Potter.
As a long-time fan of the original novels, he remembered the Levitation Charm perfectly.
Those lines and patches of color he perceived were most likely magic itself. In his perception, the material world floated atop magic like ice floes on the ocean. The flow of water could disturb the ice, and water and ice could convert into one another.
Magic and matter functioned the same way.
As for those red and gold halos, long observation revealed their nature—they represented a person's life force and mental power.
And then came the letter that had arrived yesterday.
And the visit from Albus Dumbledore today.
"Of course I'm willing!"
At last, Avada nodded firmly, accepting Dumbledore's invitation.
"Excellent."
Dumbledore smiled and nodded in return, but his expression soon grew serious."Under normal procedures, I would take you to Diagon Alley to apply for a Muggle-born student subsidy, purchase your wand, and acquire your school supplies. However, your situation is… special. I would like you to accompany me somewhere else first."
"Where?" Avada asked curiously. What exactly about him was 'special' in Dumbledore's eyes? Surely it wasn't just his absurd name… right?
Using the Killing Curse as a name shouldn't land him in Azkaban… should it?
"The Ministry of Magic."
Before Avada could fully process his surprise, Dumbledore had already risen and opened the door. "Relax. It's not a place worth being nervous about. They merely maintain the basic order of the magical world and ensure it remains hidden from Muggles—non-magical people."
"Professor Dumbledore, are you finished talking?"
Hearing the door open, a young woman in uniform approached, eyeing the oddly dressed old man with curiosity.
"Quite successfully," Dumbledore replied with a smile. "Mr. Kendavia has agreed to attend Hogwarts. I plan to first show him the school—perhaps also purchase some learning materials. There's no need to pack; we'll be back shortly."
"Understood, Professor Dumbledore. "She nodded, then turned to Avada and smiled. "I also wish you success in your future studies, little Avada."
"Thank you, Mrs. Green."
Avada returned her smile and followed Dumbledore out of the orphanage and onto the street. After walking for a short time and turning down several corners, they entered a quiet, secluded alley.
"Apparition might be a bit difficult for you to handle right now…"
Dumbledore murmured thoughtfully, then lifted a hand."Fawkes."
A burst of brilliant fire flared beside him, and from the flames emerged a breathtaking crimson bird—the phoenix, Fawkes.
A flicker of shock crossed Avada's eyes. Fawkes' radiance was not only dazzling, but the internal structures within him were incomparably more complex than those of humans. Avada only glanced briefly before a sharp pain throbbed through his head.
"Hold onto my arm."
Avada obeyed, gripping Dumbledore tightly. He knew what was about to happen.
The next instant, his vision was overwhelmed by scarlet flames.
When the fire faded, the world had completely changed.
Before him stood a magnificent, gilded hall. The dark wooden floor shone like polished glass. A peacock-blue ceiling glittered with golden symbols that moved and shifted constantly, like a colossal airborne bulletin board. The surrounding walls were paneled with dark, glossy wood, set with countless gilded fireplaces.
At the center of the hall stood a fountain. In the middle of a circular pool rose a group of solid gold statues. The tallest was a noble-looking wizard, wand raised high toward the sky. Around him stood a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, Professor Dumbledore."
Seeing the familiar phoenix fire, a Ministry receptionist hurried forward respectfully."A member of the Department of Mysteries is already waiting for you. Please follow me."
"So, Professor Dumbledore," Avada asked quietly, "why exactly did we come here?"
"To resolve the matter of your name."
Dumbledore's expression was grave."You don't yet realize that your name holds an exceptionally dark meaning in the wizarding world. Using it as a name is barely different from bearing a curse. It will bring you all manner of trouble in your future life."
"According to my investigation, your name seems to originate from the Department of Mysteries—a division of the Ministry dedicated to studying secrets and the unknown."
"For the sake of my student—and to ensure you aren't treated as a mere test subject—there are things I must personally uncover. That is why I came to see you myself. Ordinarily, the task of guiding new students is assigned to whichever professor happens to be available."
Avada's pupils shrank.
The Department of Mysteries…
That was the most secretive organization in the original novels—the place that studied time, destiny, and other ultimate mysteries.
How could a Muggle orphan like him possibly be connected to them?!
(End of Chapter)