July 27, 1991.
London.
In a luxurious mansion spanning nearly ten thousand square feet in the heart of Westminster.
"In the third grade, you made the entire class cry."
"In the fourth grade, you buried ten pounds of fireworks in the restroom, causing chaos."
"In the fifth grade, you live-streamed the principal's in-depth discussion with the teachers."
"The worst part was at your sixth-grade graduation ceremony, where you gave a speech about the hammer and sickle in front of so many dignitaries."
"If it weren't for the fact that you are the last heir of the Lawrence family, you would probably still be under investigation by MI6."
In the reception room, a middle-aged man, impeccably dressed in a suit, expressed his concerns about the strikingly handsome young man sitting across from him. As he spoke, the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.
He paused. Counting the incidents was surprising. Beyond these annual "major events," there were countless other smaller issues he had become too tired to tally.
Why on earth, for just being in elementary school, could you cause so much trouble?
"Wayne Lawrence, I am discussing a serious matter with you. Please focus!"
Noticing the boy's wandering attention, the man frowned and raised his voice a bit.
For many years, ever since he became the secretary to a cabinet minister, it had been a long time since he had seen someone lose focus while he spoke.
He was Humphrey Appby, the chief secretary of the Home Office, heralded as a model of British civil service, with an unlimited future ahead.
Now, he found himself fretting over his nephew's schooling.
The handsome youth sitting opposite him was his nephew, Wayne Lawrence, the heir to the Lawrence earldom.
The Lawrence family had a tradition of passing titles directly down the line, and after Wayne's parents tragically passed away shortly after his birth, he became the sole heir.
Over the years, to ensure his sister's bloodline continued, Humphrey had devoted himself to raising this nephew, pouring more effort into him than he would for his own son.
"Oh, sorry, Uncle Humphrey, I was just lost in thought."
"Please continue."
Wayne flashed an apologetic smile, and paired with his perfectly handsome features, he exuded a polite demeanor that made it hard to imagine he had done any of those mischievous things.
The middle-aged man's expression softened a bit as he continued:
"Wayne, I spoke with Danvers at Harrow School yesterday. With your grades, getting in there is absolutely no problem; however... please try to control your boundless curiosity and excessive energy."
"Otherwise, you might receive poor evaluations from the academy, which would greatly complicate your future applications to Oxford and Balliol."
Harrow School is one of England's most prestigious and ancient private schools, known for its famous alumni, including a prime minister during World War II.
"Wayne, what kind of look was that?"
"Um, Uncle, I don't think I mentioned that I want to attend Harrow, did I?" Wayne shrugged.
"Then where do you want to go? Eton? No, they're only famous for their name, and their standards have been slipping in recent years; you can get in as long as you have money."
"Westminster School? That won't work either; the artistic atmosphere there is overwhelming, whereas it doesn't really help you in politics later on."
Humphrey diligently analyzed several prestigious schools but grew increasingly convinced that Harrow was the best choice.
Yet Wayne seemed to ignore him completely, pulling out an envelope from behind him.
On it was a wax seal, a shield emblem, with a large letter H surrounded by a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake.
"Sorry, Uncle, but I'm not going to any of those schools."
Wayne put on a perfectly rehearsed smile. "I refuse to be a Muggle!"
...
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (President of the International Confederation of Wizards, Knight of Merlin, First Class, Chief Wizard of Wizengamot.)
We are delighted to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Enclosed is a list of required books and supplies.
Additionally, given your family circumstances, we will be sending a professor to your home tomorrow at nine AM to answer your questions and provide guidance."
"Hogwarts..."
After reading the letter, Humphrey glanced at the wax seal again.
As a senior official in the English civil service, there were no secrets left in England for him.
He was aware of those exceptionally gifted individuals.
Even the departments and the wizarding Ministry of Magic had some connections and had collaborated before.
What shocked him the most was that his nephew had such qualifications.
"You want to go to Hogwarts?"
"Of course." Wayne nodded lightly. "It's such an interesting place; I'd definitely want to check it out."
Then he complained, "I've already spent six years in a boys' school for elementary education; if I have to spend another seven years in Harrow or Eton..."
Wayne couldn't help but shiver.
No wonder Britain has its own national conditions; after over a decade in all-boy schools, many people change, not necessarily in a conventional direction.
Humphrey fell into deep thought.
"Since it's your choice... I respect that, Wayne. If I had the opportunity to learn extraordinary powers, I wouldn't refuse either."
"However, to prevent this from being a trick, I will come with you to meet the professor tomorrow."
"Of course," Wayne agreed without resistance.
After setting a time, Humphrey declined Wayne's dinner invitation and hurriedly returned to Downing Street.
Wayne understood.
His Uncle Humphrey not only had to manage a great deal of official duties every day but also had to engage in a battle of wits with Home Secretary Jim Hark.
Though that minister seemed a bit amusing, lacking systematic political training, the occasional glimpses of his killer instincts were enough to give Humphrey headaches.
After instructing the household staff to prepare a feast to celebrate, Wayne first returned to his bedroom.
In his heart, he silently prayed,
"System Brother, can we make a deal? How about returning the points I spent a few days ago?"
"What if I just return those rewards to you?"