In comparison to the Muggle world, the wizarding world's education system feels stuck in the past by a few hundred years. There are no elementary schools or universities, just Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which essentially combines middle and high school, with a short seven-year curriculum.
And, to be honest, the quality of teaching is questionable!
Andy Collins vaguely remembers the flying lesson professor from the movie Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. The professor couldn't even handle a simple flying accident. Andy can't recall the professor's name, but it left an impression nonetheless.
In the wizarding world, children generally don't attend Muggle schools, considering them unnecessary. Over the past eleven years, Andy's mother, Helen, has only taught him reading, some basic math, and general knowledge about the magical world. Besides that, Andy has mainly learned through self-study.
Now that Isabel is old enough to start reading, it's Andy's job to teach her.
Who could blame Andy for coming across as talented and fond of learning?
Kyle and Helen have mentioned multiple times that Andy is destined for Ravenclaw.
"Alright, little one, let's get started!" Andy said, patting Isabel's head. "If you don't finish today's lessons, you might miss dinner."
"Mean Andy!" Isabel muttered, rubbing her head. She briefly thought about sneaking away, but knowing the consequences, she sighed and begrudgingly followed Andy into the study room.
In this life, Andy's family is a typical wizarding household. His father, Kyle, works for the Ministry of Magic, while his mother, Helen, stays at home to take care of the kids, occasionally brewing potions to sell at Diagon Alley. Her earnings from potions often exceed Kyle's monthly salary. Sometimes, Andy helps out.
The village they live in, Ottery St. Catchpole, is a mixed community of wizards and Muggles, but the two groups seldom interact. Kyle and Helen strictly forbid Andy and Isabel from playing with Muggle children.
The closest wizarding neighbor lives two hills away, which means Andy and Isabel have few friends. Kyle bought Andy a child's broom so he could occasionally visit neighbors, but social interactions were still rare. Most of Andy's outside contact came when visiting his parents' friends.
In short, life for a young wizard is both peaceful and a little dull.
"That's enough for today," Andy said, stretching as he closed the book. Teaching kids to read and write is exhausting, especially when they're as stubborn and mischievous as Isabel.
"Let's play hide-and-seek!" Isabel's exhaustion was gone, and she beamed with excitement. "I found a secret spot yesterday. You'll never find me!"
"I hid your snacks last night," Andy said, barely lifting his head from his book. "If you don't find them, no snacks for a week."
"Andy—" Isabel started to fume but quickly stormed off to search for her hidden snacks, leaving Andy in peace.
Andy sat down with a book, but before opening it, he called out, "System!"
A translucent virtual interface appeared in front of him.
The system's layout was simple, featuring a spherical icon in the middle filled with about one-third red liquid. Below the sphere were the words:
[Potential Points: 1]
It had taken Andy five years to accumulate this single point since awakening the magic system at age six, but he had refrained from using it until now.
The system provided no intelligent guidance, and Andy still couldn't figure out how the red liquid in the sphere increased. To the left of the sphere was a list of Andy's magical abilities:
[Curse: 3]
[Transfiguration: 4]
[Dark Magic: 2]
[Alchemy: 3]
[Divination: 0]
On the right side were his personal traits:
[Magic: 2]
[Soul: 4]
[Mind: 3]
[Thinking: 3]
[Willpower: 2]
The system was a basic attribute-boosting mechanism, typical of a time traveler's toolkit. From the data presented, Andy deduced that he was fairly average. His parents weren't exceptional wizards either, with Helen being proficient in potions and Kyle possessing no particular standout abilities.
With Hogwarts admission letters set to arrive next month, Andy knew it was time to use his potential point. After some contemplation, he decided that improving his spellcasting talent would be the most useful.
"Not enough potential points," the system finally responded when Andy tried to boost his magic talent.
"System, do you know how long it took me to make this decision? How many points do I need?"
The system remained silent, leaving Andy wondering. If point costs increased in a pattern—1, 2, 3, 4—it wouldn't be too bad. But if it was exponential—1, 2, 4, 8—boosting attributes could require an overwhelming number of points.
For instance, if raising an attribute from 3 to 4 cost four potential points under an incremental system, it might require a whopping eight points under a doubling system.
Andy hesitated, realizing that reaching [4] in any given attribute might classify him as an "ordinary genius."
"But how do I earn more potential points?" Andy muttered. Over the years, he had tried various methods, even humiliating himself at times. The red liquid in the sphere only ever increased slightly and seemingly at random, leaving him clueless.
(End of this chapter)