On Sullivan's desk sat a letter, sealed with red wax bearing a large capital "H." The envelope also featured the familiar crest with four animals: a badger, a lion, a serpent, and an eagle.
Seeing that emblem brought back a flood of not-so-great memories for Sullivan.
Truth is, Sullivan was a transmigrator. He'd arrived in the Harry Potter wizarding world over thirty years ago and ended up in the same year as Harry's dad, James Potter.
At first, when his magic awakened and he got into Hogwarts, he was sorted into Ravenclaw—the house known for wit and wisdom. That went straight to his head. He figured, hey, I'm the guy from another world, chosen by fate. I'm gonna turn everything around, take down Voldemort, and become the next legendary wizard.
Yeah, that didn't pan out. Turns out, aside from alchemy, his magical talent was pretty average—nothing special.
But Sullivan didn't give up. He knew how dangerous this world could be, so he leaned hard into his alchemy gift, mixing it with science knowledge from his old life to create a bunch of handy alchemical gadgets.
After graduating, those little inventions made him some decent Galleons and built him a solid reputation in Britain's wizarding circles.
Good times didn't last, though. The Second Wizarding War kicked off, and Sullivan thought he'd be fine—just keep his head down, avoid poking the Dark Lord, and he'd stay safe.
For the first few years, it worked. He wasn't much of a duelist compared to the Death Eaters, but his gadgets helped him dodge danger time and again.
He bought a house in London, rigged it with all sorts of concealment charms and tricks, and started making and selling tools that helped regular wizards protect themselves from Death Eaters.
That got Voldemort's attention eventually. Sullivan didn't panic—at least, he told himself he didn't. He stayed off the radar for sales and supplies, convinced his hiding spots were airtight.
He underestimated the Death Eaters. Underestimated Voldemort. They found his place. He barely escaped with his life, fleeing to America like a stray dog. Twelve years flew by just like that.
After hesitating for a long while, Sullivan finally opened the letter. Written in elegant, old-fashioned script, it read:
Dear Sullivan,
I'm delighted to hear from you again. Your sudden disappearance from the British wizarding world all those years ago truly worried me.
Fortunately, you've been doing well—becoming an outstanding expert in Muggle artifacts and even forging a strategic partnership with the Magical Congress of the United States.
As it happens, Hogwarts is currently short a professor for Muggle Studies. If you're willing, I'd love for you to return and take the position.
Signed, of course, by the current headmaster—the greatest wizard of the century, Albus Dumbledore.
Reading it, Sullivan's mind flashed back to scenes from the Harry Potter movies he'd watched before transmigrating.
If he remembered right, this year was when the original Muggle Studies professor, Quirinus Quirrell, got possessed by Voldemort's lingering soul fragment during some trip abroad, turning into the Dark Lord's puppet.
Back at Hogwarts, the guy switched to teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. So Dumbledore inviting him meant Sullivan was being asked to fill Quirrell's old spot.
Sullivan couldn't help but chuckle. No way. He'd busted his butt getting out of Britain, dodging Death Eaters, and building a thriving business in America.
Now, with the original plot kicking off and Voldemort making his comeback, this old man Dumbledore wants to drag him back? What, does he think I've lived too long?
Reject it. Sullivan didn't hesitate for a second. He decided right then and there. He was just about to write the reply when a voice echoed in his head.
Ding! Host has received an acceptance letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Agreeing to enroll will activate the system.
The quill he'd just set to parchment froze. The rejection he'd planned turned into three simple words: "I accept!"
What choice did he have? This was a system—the holy grail for any transmigrator! Refusing to activate it would make him a heretic among isekai protagonists.
He'd spent his first few years here desperately trying every trick in the book to awaken a system, all for nothing.
And now, when he'd finally made something of himself—good enough to be a Hogwarts professor—the damn thing shows up. It was infuriating... but exciting as hell.
One thing bugged him, though: This was clearly a job offer, so why did the system call it an "acceptance letter"? Was the thing glitching already?
Shrugging it off, Sullivan finished the reply, handed it to the owl, and watched it vanish into the sky. Right on cue, the system activation prompt rang out.
He pulled up the interface, and the first thing that popped up was his character panel:
Name: Sullivan
Magic Power: LV5 (MAX LV12)
Charms: LV4 (MAX LV12)
Dark Arts & Defense: LV3...
Transfiguration: LV4...
Potions: LV3...
Herbology: LV5...
Alchemy: LV8...
Flying: LV3...
...
Staring at those pitiful stats, Sullivan was speechless. He knew he wasn't a prodigy, but come on—he handled everyday spells and the occasional scrap just fine, about on par with most adult wizards.
Yet here, not a single skill hit LV5 or higher. Even Defense and Potions barely scraped LV3.
His pride and joy, alchemy—the thing that put him in America's top ten—was only LV8.
He couldn't imagine what full-level LV12 would look like. If he got the chance, he'd max alchemy just to see the difference.
Taking a few deep breaths to calm down, he scrolled further.
Below the stats was the quest panel, with one main quest sitting there:
Quest Name: Enrollment Preparations
Quest Details: Dear first-year student, congratulations on receiving and accepting your Hogwarts letter!
Please head to Diagon Alley before September 1st and purchase everything on the first-year shopping list. Reward upon completion: +1 General Skill Point.
Dear first-year student? Seriously?
Sullivan was stunned, then his brain kicked into gear. Twenty-plus years as a wizard had taught him to think things through.
Two possibilities: Either the system got the timeline wrong and thought he was an actual eleven-year-old newbie, or it bound to the wrong person—someone who was supposed to be a real first-year.
Either way, it was done. Sullivan figured he might as well milk the bug for all it was worth. As an adult wizard—and soon a professor—tasks that would stump a kid were easy mode for him.
Like this shopping quest: A real first-year would need parents or a guide, but he could stroll into Diagon Alley solo, no sweat.
Downside? Plenty of newbie quests would be impossible for a grown professor. And if he failed those... was there punishment?
Sullivan shook his head. One step at a time. Worst case, he'd quit the Muggle Studies job and hightail it back to America. No big deal.