Most of the time, London was foggy and dense

  On a foggy day when visibility was nearly ent, a young boy ag up his stall along a rather desote road in London, preparing to head home early.

  He wore a bck hat and a bck coat that drew attention to his face. His high nose and perfectly curved lips became noticeable, and when he smiled, he was incredibly charming. It was clear he was a boy who could easily win the affe of women.

  Especially older women.

  As the boy was about to leave, a soft voice called from behind him, "Hey, do you still have time?"

  Ian Priurned around.

  In his green eyes, a graceful dy was reflected. She wore a blue checkered high-neck dress and was apanied by a lovely girl with messy brown hair that looked like a bird's .

  "Of course, fate has given me ara moment, clearly for waiting for this moment," Ian replied, immediately slipping into business mode.

  His eloquent speech belied his youth. "Every divination is a revetion of the future. If you don't mind, madam, could you tell me your name?"

  "You call me Mrs. Granger," She replied, her gaze lingering on Ian's finely chiseled face. She found the little boy quite adorable.

  It must be said, hat people with striking looks often have an easier time winning the affe of others. With his looks alone, Ian could capture the hearts of many young girls, not to mention a woman like Mrs. Granger.

  "Alright, Mrs. Granger, what would you like to know from the divination?" Ian smiled as he rearranged his busiools.

  "Of course, about..." Mrs. Granger began, but the little girl beside her suddenly pulled her mother's hand away and ran to Ian's small table.

  "Don't think you fool us with these tricks! This is just a psychology-based scam! There's no such thing as divinatii this world!"

  "Behind any mysterious method are just magic tricks, illusions, and fraud. Sce has long made a ruling on this. You might want to read the book 'The Lies of the Middle Ages'," the girl decred, her delicate features set in a fierce expression that was both cute and intimidating. Her mother, startled, was about to reprimand her.

  Ian raised his hand to stranger. "That's a good suggestion. I also have one for you: 'The heory of Numerology' is a good book. You might want to check it out."

  Ian wasn't upset by the little girl's challenge. Instead, he smiled and pyed along, his response only adding to her frustration, like hitting a pillow.

  Her doll-like face flushed red with anger. "This world has no magic!" she insisted.

  "What if it does?" Ian tilted his head, looking at the little girl, who was a bit shorter than him.

  "Then I'll eat your table!" She decred fidently.

  "Oh, alright, Miss Hermione Granger. I'll remember your words. People who don't keep their promises tend to go bald when they grow up," Ian said with a smile, clearly enjoying the moment.

  "How do you know my name?" Hermione Granger asked, shocked. She quickly turo her mother, who was equally surprised and stared at Ian in astonishment.

  …

  " we begin now, Mrs. Granger?" Ian maintained his mysterious demeanor as he shuffled the Tarot cards in his hand and id four of them out oable. He had never set up his divination stall with such swiftness or fidence before.

  He g the little girl, who was so scared she had hidden in her mother's arms.

  "You must be doing some kind of trick. Don't believe him, Mom," Hermione said, still ging to her materialistic views, though she no longer dared to approach Ian, the Diviner who had called out her name.

  "We need a divination, Mr. Diviner," Mrs. Granger said, her eyes lighting up, pletely disregarding Hermione's protests. Her tone was now much more serious and respectful.

  Ian ignored Hermione's gring look aured frao choose a Tarot card.

  Mrs. Granger immediately made her choice. Looking at the card she had flipped, Ian raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly at her.

  "It's The Fool, madam."

  Upon hearing this, although Hermioill looked upset, her ears perked up.

  Mrs. Granger pressed her hands together in eager anticipation. "Mr. Diviner, what does this mean?"

  Ian cupped his hands aured. "That would be for you to answer, madam. When you flipped this card, what were you thinking about?"

  Mrs. Granger nodded, her expression saying, "Just as I thought."

  "I was w if my daughter Hermione will get into her ideal school year." Most parents, of course, are most ed about their children.

  Ian often entered this kind of question. However, he still put on a look of sudden realization. "Ah, so you want to divinate for your daughter."

  His tone erfectly mimicked as if he were truly amazed.

  "Yes, Mr. Diviner, you tell me the result?" Mrs. Granger asked, taking out a ￡5 note from her bag and handing it to Ian.

  Ian smiled gently, his eyes turning toward Hermio that moment, the little girl seemed somewhat curious and g Ian. However, when she saw him looking back at her, she quickly turned her head away, trying to appear indifferent.

  Yet, from the occasional way she furtively looked at him, it was clear she was still quite curious about the result of the divination. Her words didn't match her feelings, but it was uandable.

  After all, she was the future witch, one of the "Big Three" in the inal story, born into a Muggle family but possessing wizarding talents. Deep down, she still had the nature of a wizard who liked to explore the unknown.

  "Of course, no problem," Ian Prince said with a gentle smile. He picked up "The Fool" Tarot card from the table and slowly addressed Mrs. Granger. "This represents a new beginning and adventure."

  "After year, your daughter will ehe school that suits her best, and she will have araordinary future, being an important figure, the ter of attention, a high-ranking official."

  Ian had been doing divination for quite some time, but his tone had never been so certain.

  Mrs. Granger immediately smiled from ear to ear, clearly overjoyed.

  Hermione pouted without saying a word, but from the slight curve of her lips, it was still clear that she was in a good mood.

  "Thank you, Mr. Diviner," Mrs. Granger said with a smile, having received a satisfactory answer. She waved her hand in farewell to Ian.

  Hermione, eager to leave, pulled her mother along. After walking a few steps, Hermione couldn't resist turning bad making a cute, defiant expression at Ian. Ian, looking at the Fool Tarot card in his hand, couldn't help but indulge in a bit of mischief, raising his voice slightly.

  "Oh, by the way, iure, she'll also have two sons."

  Upon hearing this, Mrs. Graurned around in surprise, raising an eyebrow and ughing as she responded, "Wow, actually, I think two children might still be a little too few."

  "I won't have kids!" Hermione blurted out, her face bright red.

  Mrs. Granger patted her head affeately.

  Ian didn't say anything more, slightly bowing. "Thank you for visiting, Mrs. Granger," he said softly.

  "Thank you, Mr. Diviner."

  Mrs. Granger left with Hermione. Ian began pag up his stall, preparing to head home. At that moment, he faintly heard Hermione's frustrated voice.

  "Mom, divination isn't stific! He must have overheard our versation to know my hese people just spout nonsense!"

  At this point, Mrs. Granger gently patted Hermione's head. "Oh, Hermione, why are you so upset? It was just 5 pounds. It doesn't matter to us, but for that boy, it means he have a full meal. If the ditions allowed, what child ye would be out oreet making a living?"

  "His clothes have so many patches; he's a poor child..."

  The voices grew fainter.

  Ian looked down at his own clothes. They were indeed a bit worn. In fact, these clothes had been doo him st year by a kind soul. Every year, Ian receives donated clothes from kied people. However, in the orphanage, after being caught by Gilly a few times, the clothes ended up like this.

  Gilly was a cat, the only pet panion of the orphans in that square, eerie, and a orpha was actually just a stray cat that had wandered in and never left.

  "Another day of good harvest."

  Ian packed up the stall frame. He had earned about 10 pounds today, which retty good ine for a child.

  Of course, earning su ineant that Ian had qualities that set him apart from others.

  Name: Ian PrinceOccupation: Bloodline SorcererMagic Power: Level 4Skills:

  Language Mastery (Level 3): 23/400Biological Anatomy (Level 4): 796/800Free Fighting (Level 3): 85/400Psychology (Level 6): 42/3200

  [Psychology Extraordinary Traits: Thought Perception]

  Yes.

  Ian has an attribute panel, but it doesn't include system missions or soft fairy-like system helpers. It's just a pahat gives him the characteristic of "getting strohrough effort."

  It's simple.

  But also very practical.

  As long as effort yields results, it's enough to provide a positive iive for most people. Moreover, skill upgrades bring Ian additional bes— Extraordinary traits.

  Extraordinary traits are a skill that, o reaches level 5, grants additional bonuses, enabling Ian to gain powerful traits derived from that skill.

  If a skill reaches level 10, it unlock even more powerful legendary traits. However, Ian has yet to successfully level up any skill to level 1aining proficy isn't that easy. For instaoday, he only gained five points of profi Psychology, and in order to level up, he'd o vince over three thousand people.

  Well.

  It wouldly be called deceiving.

  Isn't emotional value a form of tribution as well?

  Ian made use of his 'Thought Perception' ability to read the thoughts of many ers, which helped him run his divination business successfully and gain a bit of fame in this area of town.

  "Small businesses don't t as businesses."

  Ian assessed his own "Gold Finger" (a term used for unusual abilities) as he returo the orphah his equipment— cssic beginnings for a crossover, after all.

  "Hey, Ian, wait, don't go back yet."

  "A Santa Cus just arrived!"

  Ian pushed his little cart back to the worn-down orphanage and a group of children surrounded him.

  And ahead, Ian spotted a fleeting figure.

  "That's nonse's clearly Gandalf." Ian corrected the child's words.

  At this moment.

  His feelings were very mixed as he had been waiting for this day.

  But he hadn't expected it to e so soon, and even more surprisingly, the person who came was— Albus Dumbledore.

  Watg the elderly man with white hair heading toward the Director's office, Ian Prince felt a bit puzzled.

  Strange.

  Isn't Hogwarts supposed to send an owl first, then send a professor for an expnation?

  (End of chapter)