"Alright, the priest said I could let you in."
Outside the door, Bran, with his arms outstretched and blocking the handle, gave Professor McGonagall a suspicious look before reluctantly stepping aside.

"Thank you."
McGonagall glanced at the little boy standing guard like a sentinel, shook her head with a smile, thanked him, and entered the room.

"Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Professor McGonagall, it's a pleasure to meet you both."
Professor McGonagall nodded amiably at the two people in the room, then surveyed her surroundings.

Just as she had seen when she was in her cat form, the room wasn't very large. A silver-haired girl was standing on the edge of the bed, and the owner of this orphanage, Benítez, was half-reclined on the bed with an unfinished breakfast on the table beside him.

--She fought to restrain herself from thinking about "Scottish plump chicken soup."

Before coming to the orphanage, Professor McGonagall had already inquired among the townspeople about Eileen.

Unlike most orphans, Eileen's relationship with Benítez was more like that of a father and daughter. The two of them worked together to run the small orphanage.

Therefore, after much deliberation, McGonagall still felt that Benítez, as Eileen's "guardian," should know about Eileen being invited to attend Hogwarts, so she didn't deliberately leave Benítez out of the conversation and speak with Eileen alone.

Benítez curiously sized up this unexpected visitor.

She appeared slightly older than he had estimated, with black hair styled in a coiled updo, and amber-framed glasses that closely resembled the professors he had imagined. She was wearing a traditional Scottish tartan coat.

All in all, she didn't seem like an untrustworthy con artist or a nosy busybody.

"Professor McGonagall? Please, have a seat." Benítez revealed a thoughtful expression. "May I ask which school you're from? As far as I know, Eileen hasn't submitted any applications to schools in the Scottish region."

Professor McGonagall glanced at the still-steaming bowl of soup on the wooden table, hesitated, pulled a chair to the bedside, sat down with her back to the table, cleared her throat, and looked at Eileen with a smile.

"Our school is called Hogwarts, a school specifically for people with special talents. I've come here this time..."

"No need to say anything, I refuse."
Before Professor McGonagall could finish, Eileen shook her head, interrupting her without any politeness.

"I already have my own goals and plans for the future. Besides, I don't think I can learn anything from this unheard-of school. So, please leave."

If this world really was the magical world of JK Rowling's books, then Professor McGonagall, who hated being interrupted during class, might have stormed off in anger upon hearing such words.

"Eileen!"
Benítez frowned slightly. In his memory, Eileen rarely acted so aggressively, let alone interrupting others like this. It was the first time he had seen her like this in all these years.

"I'm sorry, she's not usually like this." Benítez ruffled the silver-haired little girl's head, looking at Professor McGonagall with some apology. After a pause, the man continued, slightly perplexed, "However, to be frank, this Hogwarts you mentioned is the first time I've ever heard of it."

Professor McGonagall smiled indifferently, answering in a relaxed tone, "Living in the Muggle world – yes, Muggles are what we call ordinary people – it's perfectly normal that you haven't heard of it. Because Hogwarts is a school of magic, a school for teaching young wizards how to use and control magic."

A silence fell.

Benítez was clearly stunned by this answer, his eyes quickly darting back and forth between Professor McGonagall's eyes, trying to detect any sign of lying or joking.

"Mag...magic?" Benítez repeated softly, looking at the woman in front of him with suspicion. He was beginning to lean more towards Eileen's initial assessment – that this Professor McGonagall was somewhat eccentric.

Benítez straightened up, preparing to end this pointless charade. After a moment's thought, he politely replied, "You mean magic tricks, or something like acrobatics, right? I'm sorry, but I'd still prefer to have Eileen attend a public high school."

"No, I mean..." Professor McGonagall shook her head, her smile growing wider. She pulled her wand from her pocket, waved it at the chair, and with a "pop," the old wooden chair transformed into a luxurious high-backed chair cushioned with goose down. "...Real magic, like this."

After doing all this, Professor McGonagall took out an envelope made of thick parchment from her coat, placed it on Benítez's bed, and patted it gently. Her gaze swept over the two people in front of her, and McGonagall slowed her pace even more. "This is the acceptance letter. After all, we both know you are not ordinary. Eileen, you are a natural-born witch, and joining Hogwarts will teach you how to control and use your talent."

The calmness on Benítez's face, which had been maintaining a polite expression, could no longer be maintained. His pupils shrank involuntarily, and he looked in shock at the chair that had suddenly changed its appearance. His gaze moved back and forth between Eileen and Professor McGonagall, opening his mouth helplessly as if wanting to ask something, but ultimately no sound came out.

The whole room temporarily fell into an eerie silence, the air like a frozen crystal, as if even a slightly heavier breath would break it.

It may have only been a few seconds, but it felt like several minutes. In short, Eileen, who hadn't spoken since the beginning, was the first to break the silence in the room—but not in any way that Professor McGonagall had imagined.

"Oh."

The girl responded simply, lowered her eyes, and glanced over the envelope that she had seen more than a dozen times already, without even the slightest intention of picking it up.

"As for being a natural-born witch? The teachers at the Scottish public elementary school have said more than once that I am a natural-born mathematician. But that doesn't mean I will definitely choose a major in mathematics in the future." The girl replied expressionlessly, clearly unmoved by what Professor McGonagall said.

After a pause, Eileen raised her head and looked directly into Professor McGonagall's eyes for the first time, asking calmly.

"Excuse me, madam. As far as I know, a magic school diploma and study experience are no different from a piece of waste paper in the Muggle world—that is, if you really issue graduation certificates."

Regarding the Hogwarts invitation, Eileen had thought about it particularly clearly from the moment she received the owl's letter for the first time. As a reborn person, she knew very well that the future from now on belonged to Muggles.

Rather than wasting seven years learning skill-based courses such as spells, potions, and transfiguration, she would rather use this precious time to learn computer programming or corporate strategy. At least these could ensure that she would have a worry-free life for the next few decades.

"As a magic school with a history of thousands of years, every qualified graduate of Hogwarts can find a good job in the magical world, so you don't need to worry too much about that. It seems that you don't understand that the world of wizards and the world of Muggles are two different worlds. In the magical world, there are still the Ministry of Magic, hospitals, schools, and so on."

Professor McGonagall shrugged. Most children from Muggle families have such concerns, but as long as the existence of the two worlds is explained clearly, both parents and students can accept this fact.

"The ones who don't understand are you. I know more about the magical world than you think." Eileen sighed. She didn't plan to continue this vague and riddling conversation. Her voice sank, and her whole demeanor instantly became mature and serious.

"Professor McGonagall, may I ask, what is your monthly salary at Hogwarts?"

Faced with Eileen's sudden question, Professor McGonagall couldn't help but be stunned. After thinking for a moment, she answered modestly.

"80 Galleons per month, but that's because I also serve as the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, so my monthly salary is naturally higher than other teachers. Oh, by the way, the currency we use in the wizarding world is different from that of Muggles, so there's not much point in you asking about this."

Although the tone was exceptionally modest, both Benítez and Eileen could clearly feel the pride hidden behind it. Obviously, Professor McGonagall was quite satisfied with her own treatment.

"Of course there is a point. As long as it still exists in human society, then all currency systems can be easily understood after a simple conversion of purchasing power."

Hearing this answer, Eileen's eyebrows rose involuntarily, and the light in her eyes became bright. Even just by hearing the voice, one could feel the girl's strong sense of confidence, as if a king had returned to his territory—after all, the financial industry was her previous life's profession.

The silver-haired little girl clasped her hands together, and her two index fingers tapped each other rhythmically, saying softly, "If I remember correctly, 1 Galleon = 17 Sickles = 493 Knuts. As far as I know, a pound of potatoes costs 25 Knuts, and I also happen to know that one pound can buy 4 pounds of potatoes. That is to say, your monthly salary for this pretty good job in the magical world is about 400 pounds."

Speaking of this, Eileen paused and tilted her head slightly, exchanging a look with Benítez beside her. A strange and comical look appeared in both of their eyes.

"What are you trying to say?" McGonagall frowned, vaguely feeling an indescribable uncomfortable atmosphere spreading in the air.

The girl raised her head, and a hint of pity flashed in her eyes. For a moment, McGonagall even seemed to hear a subtle chuckle.

"In this country, I mean your so-called Muggle government, the average weekly salary of an ordinary worker is one hundred pounds, while the salary of a formal university professor is..."

Eileen paused here deliberately, waiting until Professor McGonagall's eyes were a little dazed before deliberately shaking her silver hair and saying softly.

"1959 pounds."

"So what are you trying to say?!"

Professor McGonagall's body leaned forward from the chair back involuntarily, her voice raised, and she asked with displeasure.

Eileen's mouth curled up slightly. Next, it was her time to perform.