HP: Card System

When Ted settled into bed that night, he checked the number in his experience pool: 462!

Among those points, 100 were a reward from completing the task [Explore Diagon Alley (Green)].

Earlier that day, he'd finally managed to sneak a peek inside Floo-Pow Headquarters—though only for a moment before they shooed him out.

Ted huffed. "Fine, ignore me today. But mark my words, I'll be back!" he shouted with his fist up in the air.

He smirked. Task completed. That last stubborn 1% exploration was finally done.

His reward? A random card draw.

Three cards appeared before him, and he could pick one:

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[Magic Postman: Red-Horned Jimmy Owl (Green)]

Summon Card

Jimmy is a small but speedy owl, excellent for delivering letters quickly. Small packages only, though.

Uses: 1/1, permanent.

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If he used this, he'd permanently have a magic owl courier at his disposal.

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[Guide to the Black Arts of the Seventeenth Century (Green)]

Prop Card

A sinister tome filled with dark magic from the 1600s. Be careful—its author has a rather unsavory reputation.

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[Wild Boar Throwing Cannon (Green)]

Prop Card

A prank device. Toss it to the ground, and a ghostly wild boar will burst forth, charging after anyone nearby for 30 seconds.

Cooldown: 5 hours.

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After some thought, Ted picked the Wild Boar Throwing Cannon. It wouldn't hurt anyone, but the potential for chaos was too good to pass up. Plus, unlike the book, it wouldn't get him expelled for "dabbling in the Dark Arts."

Knowledge is important, but I'd rather not start my Hogwarts journey under Dumbledore's watchful eye for the wrong reasons.

With the cards sorted, Ted looked back at his 462 experience points and felt at ease. Tomorrow wasn't just the start of school—it was also time for his Otherworldly Knowledge update.

With experience points in hand, he had nothing to worry about.

Sleep!

As soon as Ted woke up the next morning, system messages flashed before his eyes:

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[Ding~ Talent [Knowledge of Other Worlds (Gold)] activated!

You have obtained: [Dalaran Junior Battle Mage Training Manual (Green)]]

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Ted blinked. Dalaran? Oh, I know that place. A decade of playing World of Warcraft wasn't for nothing.

But then his eyes narrowed at the name.

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Junior Battle Mage? (—Cannon—Fodder—Mage—The cannon fodder mage was crossed Out).

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…Did they really just cross that out like I wouldn't notice?

Nice try, system, but I still see you.

Regardless, Ted didn't have much of a choice. At least it was magic-related, unlike last time when he got knowledge about chakra.

"Exchange 310 experience points?"

Confirmed.

As soon as he made the exchange, a flood of knowledge surged into his mind.

He sat up, rubbing his temples. Alright… so what exactly does a "Junior Battle Mage" learn?

Turns out, this wasn't exactly an elite magic education.

Battle Mages in Dalaran? Those were real wizards—masters of the arcane arts, guardians of knowledge.

Junior Battle Mages? More like... disposable war mages with the bare minimum training.

If Hogwarts was a prestigious university, this was fast-tracked boot camp for magic grunts.

Still, something is better than nothing.

According to the training manual, there were 16 spells to learn:

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[Frost Spells:]

Frostbolt

Frost Armor

Frost Nova

[Fire Spells:]

Fire Shock

Fireball

Flame Storm

[Arcane Spells:]

Arcane Intellect

Arcane Missiles

Conjure Water

Conjure Food

Transmogrification

Slow Fall

Magic Suppression

Blink

Mana Regeneration

Teleport: Dalaran

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Three Frost, three Fire, and the rest Arcane.

By the time someone "graduated" from this training program, they'd basically be at the level of a level 20 mage in Azeroth.

A decent skill set… but still cannon fodder.

They weren't training wizards—they were training expendable spellcasters.

But Ted didn't mind. These sixteen spells were useful.

Especially the Arcane spells—those had serious research potential.

The Wizarding World wasn't exactly known for its combat magic. Sure, Hogwarts had its fair share of dueling spells, but they lacked the destructive, battlefield magic that places like Azeroth specialized in.

...

Looking at Ted pulling his suitcase and waving goodbye, Old Tom found himself feeling oddly sentimental.

It seemed like just yesterday when that skinny kid had walked in, asking for the cheapest room available. Now, two months had flown by, and Ted had changed a lot. He had filled out a bit, put on some weight, and his second-hand wizard robes, which were bought a size too large, now fit him much better.

And now, it was time for him to leave for school.

Old Tom sighed, scratching at the worn counter of the Leaky Cauldron. "Boy, study hard. And don't forget to come back and visit when you get the chance."

Ted smiled and waved. "I will!" Then, with a final glance at the old inn, he pushed open the door and stepped onto the bustling streets of London.

King's Cross Station was as crowded as ever, but Platform Nine and Three-Quarters had its own kind of chaos. Families in robes, kids running around with owls screeching in their cages, and the occasional pet cat weaving between hurried footsteps.

Ted made his way through the station, dragging an old suitcase with one hand and carrying a smaller case in the other. His second-hand wizard robes had been patched up, but they were still in decent shape. His wand was tucked safely into his pocket, along with a one-way train ticket.

He reached the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 and ran a hand over the brick. Solid. He knew he had to move fast—walking into it wouldn't do the trick. He took a step back, took a breath, and strode forward.

The moment he passed through, the air shifted. The sounds of the Muggle world faded, replaced by the excited chatter of witches and wizards. Steam billowed from a grand old-fashioned locomotive painted in deep red and black.

Ted glanced up at the front of the train, where the number "5972" gleamed in brass lettering.

He smirked. "If it had been 6969, that would've been legendary."

The train looked too refined to be purely wizard-made—Ted doubted most wizards even understood how steam engines worked. They must have "borrowed" it from the Muggle world at some point.

He stepped onto the train, glancing around. The corridors were on the right, with compartments lining the left side. The interior had a nostalgic feel, like something out of an old film.

He walked down a few carriages, peering into compartments as he passed. Finally, with the help of Anzu, he found Hermione.

"Here! Ted, here!" Hermione's excited voice rang out as she stood by the door of a compartment, Anzu perched proudly on her shoulder.

"I thought you were going to be late!" she huffed, crossing her arms.

Ted chuckled as he stepped inside. "I underestimated how bad the bus strikes would be."

Inside the compartment, two other kids were already seated.

One was a shy, chubby boy who sat stiffly in his seat, looking a little uncomfortable. When Ted entered, the boy gave him a hesitant smile—awkward but polite.

The other was smaller than most kids their age, with sharp, observant eyes. But what caught Ted's attention the most was the pair of round, sorrel-colored mouse ears poking out from his hair.

A demihuman?

Ted had only seen a couple of demihumans in Diagon Alley over the past two months, and even then, he had never spoken to one up close. He certainly hadn't expected to see one on the Hogwarts Express.

Hermione, ever the eager one, introduced them. "This is Neville—Neville Longbottom. You know him, right?"

Ted blinked, momentarily taken aback.

Oh, he knew that name all too well. How could he not?

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Word count: 1268