London, Foggy, Thick Fog
In the smoggy weather, where you could barely see your fingers, a young boy was tidying up his stall, preparing to go home early on a rather desolate London street.
He wore a black hat and a black trench coat, drawing attention to his face—his high nose, perfectly curved lips, and charming smile undeniably made him a boy easily liked by women.
Especially older women.
Just as the boy was about to leave—
"Little fortune-teller, do you still have time?"
A gentle voice spoke from behind.
Ian Prince turned his head.
His green eyes reflected a refined lady wearing a blue plaid high-necked dress, accompanied by a cute, brown-haired girl.
The girl's hair was as messy as a bird's nest.
"Of course. Fate made me linger for a moment, obviously to wait for this very encounter."
Ian Prince immediately got into character, slipping effortlessly into his trade.
His skilled rhetoric didn't sound like the sophistication a child should possess.
"Every divination is an enlightenment of the future.
If madam doesn't mind, may I know your name?"
"You can call me Mrs. Granger."
Looking at Ian Prince's exquisitely carved face, Mrs. Granger found the little boy extremely adorable.
It must be said—
People with sufficient good looks always find it easier to gain the favor of others.
Ian could capture the hearts of many young girls with his appearance alone, let alone a middle-aged woman like the one before him.
"Alright, Mrs. Granger, what would you like to divine?"
Ian smiled and rearranged his business tools.
"Of course, it's about—"
Mrs. Granger was about to speak, but the little girl beside her looked resistant. She shook off her mother's hand and rushed to Ian's small table.
"Don't even try to deceive us with this trick!
It's just psychological manipulation!
There's no such thing as divination or magic in this world!"
"Behind any mysterious means lies magic, sleight of hand, or deception.
Science has already passed judgment on this.
Perhaps you should take a look at Lies of the Middle Ages."
The little girl, with her delicate features, insisted on putting on a fierce front, making her look both adorable and ferocious.
Her mother's face changed as she prepared to reprimand her.
Ian raised his hand to stop Mrs. Granger.
"Very good suggestion. I also have one for you—New Principles of Numerical Divination is an excellent book. Perhaps you should take a look as well."
Ian was not annoyed by the little girl's questioning. Instead, he greeted her with a smile.
His reaction left the little girl feeling frustrated, as if she had punched a cloud.
Her doll-like face immediately flushed red.
"There is no magic in this world!"
The little girl re-emphasized.
"What if there is?"
Ian tilted his head, looking at the girl who was slightly shorter than him.
"Then I'll eat this table of yours!"
The little girl declared.
"Oh, okay, Miss Hermione Granger. I'll remember your words. People who don't keep their promises tend to go bald when they grow up."
Ian smiled as if genuinely pleased.
"How do you know my name?!"
The little girl—
That is, Hermione Granger—was taken aback.
She quickly looked back at her mother in panic, while Mrs. Granger also regarded Ian with surprise.
"Shall we begin, Mrs. Granger?"
Ian maintained a mysterious air, shuffling the tarot cards in his hand before placing four on the table.
He had never been this bold in showing off while doing street divination before.
Look at the little girl—
She was so startled that she hid behind her mother.
"We need a divination, Mr. Fortune-Teller."
Mrs. Granger's eyes gleamed with interest, her tone more serious and respectful than before.
Ian ignored Hermione Granger's glare and gestured for Mrs. Granger to pick a card.
She immediately made a choice. As the tarot card was revealed, Ian raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly.
"It's The Fool, madam."
Hearing this, Hermione still looked displeased, but her ears perked up.
Mrs. Granger clasped her hands together, anticipation in her eyes.
"Mr. Fortune-Teller, what does this foretell?"
Ian cupped his hands and gestured.
"This depends on you, madam.
What were you thinking of when you turned over this card?"
Mrs. Granger nodded, as if expecting this response.
"I just wanted to ask—within a year, will my Hermione be able to get into her ideal middle school?"
Like most parents, her greatest concern was her child's future.
Ian often encountered such situations.
However—
He still put on a look of sudden realization.
"So, you wish to divine for your daughter?"
Ian's exclamation was lifelike.
"Yes, Mr. Little Fortune-Teller. Can you tell me the outcome?"
Mrs. Granger spoke as she took out five pounds from her bag and handed it to Ian.
Ian smiled slightly, his eyes flickering toward Hermione.
At that moment, the little girl was also sneaking glances at Ian. But the moment his gaze met hers, she quickly turned away—
As if to show that she didn't care at all.
However—
From her small, occasional glances, it was clear she was still curious about the divination's result.
Saying one thing but meaning another.
It was reasonable.
After all, she was a future witch—one of the Big Three in the original story. Born into a Muggle family, she possessed immense wizarding talent. Deep down, she had an innate desire to explore the unknown.
"Of course, no problem." Ian Prince said with a gentle smile, picking up The Fool tarot card from the table and speaking slowly to Mrs. Granger.
"This card represents new beginnings and adventures.
Next year, your daughter will enter the school that suits her best. She will go on to achieve extraordinary things, becoming a respected and influential figure."
Ian had been reading fortunes for a long time, but his tone had never carried such certainty before.
Mrs. Granger immediately beamed, clearly overjoyed.
Hermione pouted but said nothing.
Yet the slight upturn of her lips betrayed her mood.
"Thank you, little fortune-teller. I'll take my leave now."
Having received a satisfactory answer, Mrs. Granger waved goodbye, while Hermione tugged at her mother's sleeve, eager to leave.
A few steps away, she couldn't resist turning back to give Ian a fiercely cute glare.
Ian, looking at The Fool tarot card in his hand, raised his voice mischievously.
"Oh, by the way, in the future, she'll have two wonderful sons."
Hearing this, Mrs. Granger turned in surprise, raising an eyebrow.
"Wow. Actually, I think two children might be too few."
"I'm not going to have children!"
Hermione's face flushed bright red.
Mrs. Granger chuckled and patted her daughter's head.
Ian simply bowed slightly.
"You're always welcome, Mrs. Granger."
His voice was gentle.
"Thank you, little fortune-teller."
Mrs. Granger and Hermione left.
Ian began packing up his stall, but just then, he heard Hermione's exasperated voice.
"Mom, divination is unscientific! He must have overheard our conversation to know my name. These people just say what you want to hear!"
Mrs. Granger only stroked Hermione's head.
"Oh, Hermione, why does it matter? Five pounds is nothing to us, but for that child, it means a warm meal.
Did you see his clothes? They were patched. He's a poor boy…"
Her voice faded.
Ian glanced down at his worn-out clothes.
Another good day's work.
Ian Prince packed up, his mind already shifting toward what lay ahead.
After all—
The real adventure was just beginning.