Daily Life at Hogwarts - Chapter 1

In the early morning, a sliver of sunlight peeked through a gap in the curtains, shining upon the face of a sleeping boy. Albert hadn’t awoken yet, but he soon would be roused from his slumber.

The door near the stairs on the second floor was gently pushed open, and a brunette girl peeked inside. Her large brown eyes fixed on the slumbering boy. She whispered, “Albert, time to get up.”

Seeing no reaction from the boy on the bed, the girl pouted in dissatisfaction. She walked into the room, trailed by a British Shorthair cat.

“Tom, help me out here,” the girl said as she lifted the cat onto the bed. She playfully used its tail to brush across the boy’s face.

Albert, initially deep in sleep, moved his hand to sweep away the cat’s tail. He opened his eyes to gaze at his mischievous younger sister. Suppressing a yawn, he greeted her, “Good morning, Nia!”

“Dad said he’s taking us to London today,” Nia said, blinking at Albert. “To get your Eton uniform tailored and to buy some other items on the list.”

“Alright, got it. I’ll change,” Albert replied, yawning again. He picked up Tom, who was stretching on the bedsheet, placed him on the floor, stretched, started dressing up, and then went to the living room for breakfast.

“Did you stay up late again?” Daisy asked as she placed a sumptuous breakfast in front of Albert.

“Son, we’d better hurry. We have a full itinerary today,” Herbert said, spreading out a letter from Eton on the table, his face brimming with pride.

As everyone knew, private schools in England cultivated the elite. Eton stood out among them. To get into Eton, two criteria were essential: talent and wealth.

The Anderson family belonged to the British middle class. The couple ran a law firm, and they had some savings.

As for Albert, he was viewed as a prodigy. Not only was he academically gifted, but he had also won numerous interschool competitions.

Whether Albert truly was the genius everyone believed him to be was something only he knew.

A genius?

No, Albert never considered himself one. He harbored a big secret: he was a transmigrator.

As for his reputation as a genius, he was just as baffled as everyone else.

A boy unfamiliar with Rubik’s cubes effortlessly solved a scrambled 3×3 cube. To most adults, this was the mark of a prodigy.

But in truth, Albert had played with these cubes in his past life and knew the tricks.

As for maintaining his genius image, he wasn’t concerned about being exposed. He had the legendary cheat codes!

Indeed, transmigrators came with cheat codes. Internet novels didn’t lie.

At the age of seven, he discovered a panel in his mind that had two functions: task assignment and skill points. Sometimes, tasks would pop up. Completing them earned experience or skill points. Experience improved skills, while skill points directly leveled them up.

His first skill was proficiency in English. It took him several years to upgrade it to level 3.

In comparison, while a regular English person might have a level 2 proficiency, a typical English teacher would be at level 3.

If he maximized his tech skills, he could become a genius scientist. However, that was not his ambition, neither in this life nor the last.

In his past life, he loved reading and became an online novelist.

How did he transmigrate?

Embarrassingly, he choked on an apple while watching a Mr. Bean movie and died at thirty. When he woke up, he was a baby in a new world. He later got another cat, also named Tom, named after the famous cartoon Tom and Jerry.

At seven, the gaming panel appeared, causing Albert to question his reality. He even wondered if he was an NPC in a game.

Later, when he couldn’t find any trace of “players” or any game-related entities, he took the panel as the boon of being a transmigrator.

Combining the concept of transmigration with these cheats was akin to being the ultimate winner in life.

Albert had no grand ambitions. He hoped to experience a few romances when he was older, and after university, he wanted a simple and relaxing job. Ideally, he would be married before thirty and amass enough wealth to frivolously spend for a century, letting him live the rest of his life freely and carefree.

To achieve this future, Albert had a plan. After graduation, he intended to head to Wall Street in the U.S. With his maxed-out economic skills and memories from his previous life, he believed he could quickly earn a fortune in dollars.

However, leveling up panel skills wasn’t easy, especially after the second level. Each subsequent level required a vast amount of experience.

Albert needed to undertake tasks to earn experience and skill points. Being accepted into Eton was one such task.

“Son, what are you thinking about?” Herbert asked, cutting into his steak, looking at his daydreaming son.

“I’m pondering what I might want to do in the future,” Albert replied after swallowing a bite of his fried egg.

“What do you want to do?” Daisy curiously inquired. It was rare for their children to discuss their dreams.

“Finance,” Albert answered without hesitation.

“We thought you might want to become a scientist or an astronaut,” the Anderson couple exchanged surprised glances.

“What’s finance?” Nia, feeling left out, inquired.

“Finance is lucrative,” Albert stated, looking up. “By the way, could you buy me some books on economics while we’re out? Consider it an early birthday gift.”

“Son, don’t mislead your sister. Only the competent make money in that field,” Herbert responded, coughing lightly, “Besides, our family isn’t exactly poor.”

“Alright, enough chit-chat, let’s finish our breakfast,” Daisy interrupted. “Nia, remember to finish your milk.”

“Okay!” Nia wasn’t particularly fond of milk.

Life after his rebirth was blissful with a loving sister, harmonious family, affluent life, and the cheat codes that would take him to the pinnacle of success.

But if there was one thing that bugged Albert, it was British food. He’d read online that Britain was a culinary wasteland and had been skeptical, assuming Brits favored simplicity.

However, after experiencing it first-hand, he didn’t doubt the claims anymore.

After breakfast, they cleaned up, secured the house, and the Anderson family prepared to leave together.

As Albert opened the door to their Ford, preparing to slide into the backseat, he heard Nia exclaim, “Look, is that an owl?”

The Anderson couple looked in the direction their daughter was pointing and saw an owl approaching. As it flew overhead, it dropped a letter at Albert’s feet.

The expressions on the Anderson family’s faces froze.

An owl… delivering mail?

Since when did owls start moonlighting as postmen?