"Alright, Ted. I still have my old textbooks from when I was a student. I can lend them to you," Professor McGonagall offered as they walked through Diagon Alley. "But let's at least buy you a few new ones."
Ted appreciated her generosity, but he had already made up his mind. "Thank you, Professor, but I think I'll wait a little longer. There's still nearly two months before school starts. Maybe I can find a few more second-hand books and save some Galleons."
Textbooks were expensive—absurdly so. Buying everything brand new would almost wipe out his entire student loan. Hogwarts was kind enough to cover food and housing, but that didn't mean he wanted to be completely broke before even stepping foot inside the castle.
Professor McGonagall studied him for a moment, as if considering whether to insist. She had noticed how independent he was, even from her brief observations. With a nod, she relented. "Very well," she said, handing him the rest of his student loan. "Use it wisely."
After seeing him off at the bus stop, she left, and Ted returned to the orphanage with his second-hand supplies.
Sitting in the rattling bus, he thought hard. He needed to make money—fast.
Either he could try to earn some cash in the Muggle world, or he could find work in Diagon Alley and get paid directly in Galleons. The latter seemed like the better choice—no need for currency exchange, and no middlemen taking a cut.
His student loan for the first year was only 20 Galleons, and after that, it dropped to just 5 per year. That was barely enough to scrape by. His wand alone had cost 7 Galleons. If he had bought brand-new textbooks, it would have been another 12.
Then there were all the other supplies—cauldrons, potion ingredients, dragon-hide gloves for Herbology. What if next year Lockhart became the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor? He'd be forced to buy an entire stack of useless books!
He had two months to gather a full set of second-hand supplies. If he played his cards right, he might even have a few Galleons left over as pocket money. There was also the option of exchanging British pounds at Gringotts—he still had 50 Galleons left to convert.
Money wasn't everything, but being broke was definitely not an option. He needed a job.
On top of that, his unique ability—the knowledge of other worlds—had given him access to a few pages of a psychic power manual. But studying it required experience points.
He had tested it before. He could gain experience from studying, but reading Muggle textbooks for an entire day only earned him four or five points. It was nowhere near enough.
If he didn't exchange his current knowledge soon, it would be overwritten by the next wave of information his ability provided. That would be a huge waste.
There were only about twenty days left. Trying to grind out 400 experience points through self-study alone seemed impossible.
No—he had to go back to Diagon Alley and find an opportunity. Even if he couldn't trigger more quests, there was still the ongoing mission to explore the area.
Getting a part-time job was his best bet. He could earn both Galleons and experience that way.
Just as he came to this conclusion, a familiar chime echoed in his mind.
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[Ding! New task generated!:]
[Working Wizard (Green)]
A single Knut shouldn't stop a determined wizard! In order to make a living and gather experience, you need to find a way. Diagon Alley is full of opportunities if you know where to look.
Goal: Successfully find a job in Diagon Alley.
Reward: 100 experience, card [Restore Energy (Green)].
Working wizards, working souls—every worker is a master of their craft!"
______________________________
Ted grinned. Now, it was even more important to get started.
...
Ted stepped into the orphanage, the familiar scent of old wood and warm meals wrapping around him. As soon as he crossed the threshold, Mammy, the matron of the orphanage, turned to him eagerly.
"Oh, little Ted, you're back. How are you? Have you been admitted?" she asked quickly, her eyes full of concern.
"Yes, Mammy. I was admitted! And because of my special situation, the school introduced me to a work-study job before the term starts. I can work part-time there, and they provide food and housing..." Ted explained, spinning his story carefully.
He had already decided to work in Diagon Alley and stay at the Leaky Cauldron. It was the best plan he could come up with.
Mammy's face twisted with worry. "But Ted, you're only eleven... You shouldn't have to work so soon."
Ted gave her a reassuring smile. "It'll be fine. A lot of kids in the orphanage start apprenticeships early or go to mission schools. This isn't so different."
Reluctantly, Mammy nodded. "If you're sure... But take care of yourself, alright?"
After dinner, Ted went up to his room and started packing. He didn't have much—just some basic necessities and his old guitar. He gave away his small toys to the younger children. Tomorrow, he'd leave for Diagon Alley, ready to take his first real steps into the magical world. He felt a thrill of excitement at the thought.
But before he left, there were a few practical things he needed to buy. Parchment was expensive in the Muggle world, but ink was dirt cheap. He'd get a diary too—honestly, what kind of world still relied on parchment? Didn't they know how costly it was? He also needed a proper pen; quills were just too impractical. Every Knut mattered, so he'd be careful with his spending.
That night, excitement kept him awake. Instead of tossing and turning, he pulled out his copy of Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 and read by flashlight.
"I remember that students aren't technically supposed to use magic before school, but Hermione was practicing spells at home before she even got on the train. That means the Trace doesn't activate until we go to Hogwarts..."
The Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery Act has been around since 1875. It mostly prevented young wizards from performing magic in public or in front of Muggles. But if no one was watching... well, it was worth experimenting.
Two months. He couldn't just spend it all working. He needed to prepare.
He flipped to the first spell in the book: Lumos.
"An enchantment differs from transfiguration in that an enchantment adds properties to an object or creature, whereas transfiguration changes it into something entirely different."
He read through the description and took out his wand.
"Loo-mohs—no, wait, that's not right. Lumos."
Nothing happened.
He tried again. "Lumos!"
Still nothing. He adjusted his grip, concentrated, and repeated the incantation.
On his sixth attempt, the tip of his wand glowed faintly. A soft, flickering white light.
"Yes! No need for a flashlight now!"
A notification popped up in his mind—
[+25 experience points gained.]
Practicing magic really did grant him experience. But he noticed that after repeated attempts, the gains lessened. After dozens of tries, he felt his magic drain away.
Still, he'd learned his first spell. That alone made him feel accomplished.
Finally, exhaustion caught up with him, and with the soft glow of his wand still in his mind, he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, after a teary farewell with Mammy, Ted boarded the bus.
The Leaky Cauldron was just as he remembered—dimly lit, full of the smell of stew and old wood, with flickering candlelight creating a cozy yet mysterious atmosphere. Wizards sat at tables, deep in conversation, or eating their meals by candlelight.
Ted couldn't help but wonder, Could the Lumos spell stay on indefinitely? There were advanced spells like Gubraithian Fire (Everlasting Fire)—surely a magic lamp wouldn't be that hard to create. If he could figure that out, it'd be a great business idea. The walls could use some fixing too—maybe a fresh coat of paint?
He was lost in thought when Tom, the barkeep, noticed him.
"Oh, you're the lad from yesterday, the first-year. What's your name again?"
"Ted. Ted Epifani, sir. I need a place to stay until school starts. May I ask how much the cheapest room is? Also, if it's convenient... do you need a part-time waiter?"
Tom eyed Ted's worn-out clothes and scuffed suitcase. He seemed rough around the edges, but his heart was in the right place. With a nod, he said, "I hadn't thought about it... As for the room, well—"
He hesitated, then sighed. "Alright, kid. I've got a spare utility room. It's not much, but you can stay there for free if you help clean up after closing."
Ted's eyes lit up. "Really? Thank you so much, Mr. Tom!"
Tom chuckled. "Don't thank me yet. We'll see how well you sweep a floor."
The room was tiny, barely big enough for a bed and a small bedside table. There wasn't even space for a chair. But Ted wasn't complaining. It was free, and he was grateful.
After settling in, he changed into his second-hand wizard robes and stepped into the backyard. With a few precise taps on the right brick, the archway to Diagon Alley appeared, revealing the lively, bustling street beyond. The sight filled him with excitement.
Time to find a job.
He couldn't work at Gringotts, obviously. Cauldron and broomstick shops weren't great options either.
He decided to walk around first, getting a feel for the alley and its shops.
Eeylops Owl Emporium, Gambol and Japes, Flourish and Blotts, Magical Menagerie, Obscurus Books, Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions...
That last one caught his eye. It was the most modern-looking shop in the alley. Clearly, even wizards cared about beauty.
There was also Flourish and Blotts—now that was a good choice! A rare opportunity to read books for free. Books were too expensive!
However, reality had a way of crushing ideals. Ted asked at several stores in a row, but no one wanted to hire him.
The reason? He was too young to work!
Was the wizarding world really this law-abiding? They don't use child labor? Did they actually believe labor laws existed?!
Just when Ted's job hunt was about to end before it even began and he was starting to panic, a loud exclamation sounded beside him, followed by the crash of something spilling.
Ted quickly lifted the hem of his robe and jumped aside, narrowly avoiding a spreading puddle of unknown liquid.
Upon closer inspection—oh, slugs! A whole bucket of them!
A man had been carrying a wooden bucket filled with slugs when the handle snapped on one side, sending the slimy creatures spilling all over the cobbled street. The slugs were crawling everywhere, alive and wriggling!
Seeing this, the nearby shoppers recoiled in disgust, hurrying away.
The slugs, meanwhile, seemed to be celebrating their newfound freedom.
"Bloody hell! I should've known better than to buy these disgusting things. I swear I won't do it again—next time, definitely not!" the man grumbled.
He flicked his wand, muttering, "Reparo!" The bucket handle mended itself instantly. But the slugs? He still had to pick those up by hand.
Ted hesitated for only a moment before rolling up his sleeves and kneeling down to help. They were slimy, wriggly, and tried to escape his grip, but they didn't bite. He could handle that much.
"Oh, thank you, thank you! Let me do it—you don't have to—thank you, lad!" the man stammered gratefully.
The two of them scrambled for several minutes, catching each slug one by one. The little creatures were surprisingly slippery, sometimes squeezing right out of Ted's fingers.
When the last one was safely back in the bucket, the man let out a long breath and pointed his wand at Ted. "Scourgify!"
Instantly, Ted's hands were spotless.
"I'm Slugger Jiggers," the man said, wiping his forehead. "I own Slug & Jiggers Apothecary just behind you. If you ever need potion ingredients, come find me—I'll give you a 20% discount!"
Ted's eyes lit up. "Oh? In that case… do you need an extra pair of hands?" he asked innocently.
Slugger blinked. Had he just walked into a trap? Dug his own hole and jumped right in?
Still, after a moment of hesitation, he sighed. "Alright, alright. I suppose I could use some help."
And just like that, Ted landed his first job—preparing simple potion ingredients, such as slugs, for the apothecary. He could work a maximum of three hours a day, and the pay was 14 silver Sickles per week.
One Galleon was 17 Sickles, which meant he would make about 3 Galleons and 5 Sickles a month—almost enough to buy a wand in just two months!
It wasn't much, but at least he had a job. And that meant…
[Ding! Task completed: [Working Wizard (Green)].
Reward: 100 experience points, and a card—[Restore Energy (Green)].]
His character status updated, showing an extra 100 experience points. He still needed over 800 more to level up, but he was now only 200 experience points away from unlocking [A Few Pages of the Psychic Power Manual (Blue)].
Even better, he received his first card.
The card had a green-striped border, and the image depicted a figure with arms outstretched, bathed in a soft green glow.
______________________________
[Restore Energy (Green)]
[Type: Spell Card]
[Effect: Consume a small amount of magic power to restore some stamina.]
[Cooldown: 4 hours.]
______________________________
Ted found an opportunity to test it and discovered that it instantly shook off his exhaustion, making him feel refreshed.
It was practically a free bottle of Vitality Potion every four hours! Now, he could work harder and stay more focused.
It seemed fate had chosen him to be a working wizard.
…
"Hey, Mr. Tom! I got a job."
"Really? That's wonderful! Have a butterbeer, on the house." The old innkeeper smiled and placed a large oak mug of foaming butterbeer in front of Ted.
Ted took a sip, warmth spreading through his body. "Thanks! It's at Slug & Jiggers Apothecary. I'll be helping process low-level potion ingredients."
Tom raised a brow. "Oh? And what exactly does that involve?"
"For example, handling slugs. First, you roll off their mucus with special gloves and throw them in a bucket. Then you use a silver knife to cut them open, squeeze out the innards, lay them flat, and wait for them to dry."
"Er…" Old Tom grimaced.
Ted chuckled. "I'm an 11-year-old wizard who hasn't even started school yet. What else can I do? Mr. Jiggers is doing me a favor, really. And hey, I get to learn some potion-making in the process."
Tom nodded thoughtfully, studying Ted. The boy was young, but he had a good attitude. No complaints, no sulking—just a quiet determination to keep moving forward. That kind of resilience was rare.
Most 11-year-olds would have balked at the idea of handling slimy slugs all day. But Ted had simply accepted it, even finding a silver lining.
'Yes,' Tom thought, 'this kid is going to go far.'
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