Harry Potter: Prince of Shadows

London was engulfed in a thick fog, tangible in its density. On the dimly lit streets, barely visible through the haze, a young boy named Ian Prince was tidying up his stall, preparing to head home earlier than usual. Dressed sharply in a black hat and a matching furrow coat, his prominent nose and perfectly curved lips that dazzled when he smiled drew attention. Undoubtedly, his charm was particularly appealing to the opposite sex, especially those a bit older.

Just as he was about to leave, a gentle voice inquired from behind, "Do you have time for one more fortune?" Ian turned around to see an elegantly dressed woman in a blue plaid turtleneck dress, accompanied by a young girl with messy brown hair. "Of course, it seems fate has spared me a moment longer, presumably to await this exact encounter," Ian replied smoothly, his pitch belying his youth. "Each fortune offers a glimpse into the future. May I have the honor of knowing to whom I'm speaking?"

"You may call me Mrs. Granger," she replied, charmed by Ian's sculpted features. Good looks always make a strong first impression, and Ian, with his striking appearance, could easily captivate many hearts, including a mature lady like Mrs. Granger. "Very well, Mrs. Granger, what would you like to discover about your future?" Ian asked, his smile in place as he rearranged his tools.

"About—" Mrs. Granger began but was interrupted by her daughter, who broke free from her grasp and rushed to Ian's table with a defiant look. "Don't think you can deceive us with these tricks! This is merely a charlatan's use of psychology! There's no such thing as fortune-telling and magic in this world!" she exclaimed. "Every supposed mystery is merely an illusion, a scam. Science has already disproved these as medieval lies," the girl asserted, her fierce demeanor clashing with her delicate features. Her mother's expression changed, ready to scold her.

Ian raised a hand to stop Mrs. Granger. "That is a good suggestion, and allow me to offer another. 'The New Principles of Numerology' might be worth your consideration too," Ian countered, smiling kindly despite the girl's disbelief. Her face turned a shade redder. "There is no magic in this world!" the girl reiterated strongly. "And what if there is?" Ian tilted his head, looking down slightly at the girl who was a bit shorter than him. "Then I'll come to you for fortune-telling," she declared boldly.

"Oh, very well, Miss Hermione Granger, I'll remember your words. Those who don't keep their promises tend to go bald," Ian joked, his face breaking into a wide smile. "How do you know my name!" Hermione was taken aback, quickly glancing back at her mother, who was equally astonished at Ian. "Shall we begin, Mrs. Granger?" Maintaining his shadowy aura, Ian shuffled his tarot cards and laid out four on the table. His setup had never been this seamless before.

Notice the little girl, now hiding behind her mother. "You must have used some trick; don't trust him, Mum." Hermione continued to argue for rationalism, though she no longer dared to approach Ian, the seer who had just effortlessly spoken her name. "We need a fortune told, young man," Mrs. Granger said, her eyes alight, ignoring Hermione's protests. Her tone now carried a weight of seriousness and anticipation. Ian disregarded Hermione's disapproving glares.

He gestured for Mrs. Granger to choose a card. She made her choice quickly—the card revealed on the table was the Fool. "Oh?" Hermione couldn't hide her interest, despite her previous annoyance. Mrs. Granger clasped her hands together, filled with anticipation. "What does this portend?" Ian bowed slightly, indicating, "That depends on what was on your mind when you chose this card, madam." Mrs. Granger nodded, her expression one of realization.

"I was wondering if my daughter Hermione could get into her desired school next year?" It's a common concern for most parents regarding their children's futures. Ian, accustomed to such inquiries, feigned a moment of revelation. "Ah, you seek insight into your daughter's educational prospects." "Indeed, young man, could you tell me the outcome?" Mrs. Granger asked, reaching into her purse to hand Ian five pounds. Ian smiled warmly, turning his gaze to Hermione, who now peeked at him curiously but quickly averted her eyes, pretending indifference.

Yet, her occasional stolen glances betrayed her curiosity about the fortune's outcome. But it was understandable. After all, as a future witch, one of the original trio from a non-magical family but born with magical talents, she naturally had a wizard's curiosity for the unknown. "Of course, no problem," Ian Prince replied, his voice warm and reassuring. He picked up the "Fool" tarot card and slowly addressed Mrs. Granger, "This symbolizes a new beginning, an adventure."

"After next year, your daughter will attend the school that best suits her and will go on to achieve extraordinary success, becoming a high figure celebrated by all." Ian had never been so certain in his tone. Mrs. Granger immediately beamed, clearly delighted by the prediction. Hermione simply pursed her lips and remained silent. However, the slight lift of her lips indicated that she was secretly pleased.

"Thank you, young man. We shall take our leave now," Mrs. Granger said with a smile, waving goodbye to Ian. Hermione, eager to leave, tugged at her mother's hand. They had only taken a few steps when Hermione turned back and made a fierce face at Ian. Ian, holding the Fool card, raised his voice playfully. "Oh, and in the future, she'll have two fine sons." Hearing this, Mrs. Granger turned around, surprised, and chuckled, "Wow, actually, I think two might be a bit too few."

"I'm not having any kids!" Hermione's face flushed with embarrassment. Mrs. Granger gently patted her head. Ian bowed slightly, no longer speaking. "Thank you, young man." With that, Mrs. Granger and Hermione departed. Ian began to pack up his stall to return home, just then faintly hearing Hermione's annoyed voice. "Mum, fortune-telling isn't scientific! He must have overheard us talking to know my name, these people just speak with fancy words!"

At that moment, Mrs. Granger simply patted Hermione's head, "Oh, Hermione, why worry so much? It was only five pounds, not significant to us, but for that boy, it means a hearty meal. If circumstances allowed, which child his age would choose to work on the streets?" "His clothes are patched; he's a poor boy..." Their voices faded into the distance. Ian looked down at his own clothes. Indeed, they were somewhat worn.

This was a garment donated last year by a kind man, received annually at the orphanage, which, after a few encounters with the cat Jinx, had turned into its current state. Jinx was a cat, the only pet companion for the orphans in that bleak, ancient orphanage, a stray that had wandered in and never left. "Another profitable day." Ian Prince packed up his stall, having earned about ten pounds that day—a considerable sum for a child.

Of course, To earn such a sum, Ian surely had something extraordinary about him.

[Name: Ian Prince

Profession: Bloodline Sorcerer

Magic Level: Level 4

Skills:

Linguistics (Level 3): 23/400

Biological Anatomy (Level 4): 796/800

Martial Arts (Level 3): 85/400

Psychology (Level 6): 42/3200

Traits:

Extraordinary Psychology Trait: Thought Perception.]

Indeed, Ian had a status panel, albeit without any system manager or artificial intelligence guidance, just a feature that rewarded effort with strength.

Simple, yet effective. As long as effort yielded results, it was a positive motivator for most, not to mention the skill upgrades that brought Ian additional benefits—the Extraordinary Traits. Extraordinary Traits are skills that, once they reach level five, provide a type of bonus based on that skill, granting Ian powerful attributes derived from that skill.

And if a skill reached level ten, it could even gain a legendary trait. However, Ian had yet to grind a skill to level ten. Gaining proficiency was not easy; like today, he had only earned five points in [Psychology], needing thousands more to level up. Well, It wouldn't exactly be right to call it trickery. Providing emotional value isn't a form of payment?

Ian, by utilizing Thought Perception, read many a client's mind, making his fortune-telling business flourish in this district. "Not a bad start." Ian assessed his 'golden finger', taking his belongings back to the orphanage—the classic beginning for a transmigrator.

***

"Hey, Ian, wait!" "There's a Santa Claus here!" Ian, pushing his cart back to the decayed orphanage, was surrounded by a group of children.

And Ian saw a fleeting figure ahead. "Nonsense, that's clearly Gandalf." Ian corrected the child. At this moment, his feelings were mixed. He had been waiting for this day. But, unexpectedly, It arrived so soon, and the visitor was Albus Dumbledore.

Watching the white-bearded old man walk towards the headmaster's office, Ian Prince was puzzled.

Didn't Hogwarts usually send an owl first, then have a professor explain in person?