[HP: Return from Game of Thrones]-Chapter 17: Harry’s Grades Were Far From Ideal (Patreon)

Harry had crossed into a new world called Chinese Parents. It was somewhat different from his previous crossings, but the process was familiar: first, he was given an identity, then he had to adapt to the landing point, and finally, he received a mission.

In the world of A Song of Ice and Fire, the ultimate goal was clear—Harry initially drifted along, participating in events to earn attribute points. The world felt chaotic, filled with endless killing and scheming. It was only after climbing the ladder of chaos to sit upon the Iron Throne that he realized the truth.

The ultimate goal was rather old-fashioned: to end the wars and save the world of the living from the grasp of the Cold God.

“Become the savior of the living,” that was his revelation.

For some reason, the ultimate goal of the world named after him, Harry Potter, carried certain omens and signs. It likely involved defeating Lord Voldemort and successfully completing his studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Since he hadn’t yet arrived at Hogwarts, Harry also considered the possibility that it might mean defeating Dumbledore and dominating Hogwarts instead.

He believed he was likely this world’s Chosen One, the protagonist of this story, which explained why the system labeled it with his name. It was as if he had crossed into medieval Britain and the system called it The Legend of King Arthur—he would know the protagonist was clearly Arthur.

The tale of King Arthur was famous in both the Muggle and wizarding worlds.

The most renowned wizard in Britain, and widely regarded as the greatest seer, was Merlin. He had made many famous prophecies. According to wizarding lore, Merlin could use the power of prophecy to guide hearts and minds, harnessing human will to nurture a king capable of defeating invaders.

Magic is deeply tied to belief—will can bend reality. If you believe it, it might just become true.

In the British wizarding world, Merlin was practically a god. Most wizards swore by him, with phrases like “Merlin’s pants!” equivalent to Harry’s exasperated “By the Seven bloody gods!” or the Muggle “OMG.”

Merlin had prophesied that the one to defeat the white dragon representing the Saxons—the son of the great dragon, the man who would pull the sword from the stone and become king—was none other than Arthur.

By extension, just as Arthur’s story existed in various forms, perhaps in other worlds, there could be novels or films about Harry Potter.

Could it be that, even without the system, Harry’s talent alone would make him a legendary figure?

No wonder it’s me, he thought smugly. Heh heh heh…

In A Song of Ice and Fire, there was a similar prophecy about a legendary hero. An ancient book from Asshai foretold, “After the long summer, when the stars bleed, Azor Ahai shall be reborn amidst smoke and salt, and awaken dragons from stone.”

“After the long summer” referred to the end of a decade-long summer.

“When the stars bleed” referred to the red comet in the sky. After the crimson star streaked across, Harry’s magic grew from one point to two, and the power of every spellcaster in the world increased. The dragons returned at that time, symbolizing the resurgence of the mystical.

“Azor Ahai shall be reborn amidst smoke and salt, and awaken dragons from stone.” People believed Harry was the reincarnation of Azor Ahai because he wielded Lightbringer and could ride dragons through sheer strength. Harry, however, thought it might point to Daenerys, the Stormborn.

But having been deeply involved in the events, Harry felt Daenerys carried significant weight in the tapestry of fate, yet she was too peripheral to be the protagonist. She was separated from the Iron Throne by an entire sea.

Perhaps it was a saga with an ensemble cast? After all, that world wasn’t called The Legend of Daenerys or The Tale of the Dragon Queen.

Or maybe prophecies were always vague, open to interpretation.

Even Merlin’s prophecy about Arthur, which seemed to have failed, wasn’t entirely disproven. Arthur hadn’t died—he’d merely retreated to Avalon. If he returned one day to defeat the white dragon and sweep through London, Merlin’s prophecy would still hold true.

So, would this Harry Potter world also have a prophecy about him? Would someone use a prophecy to cultivate a savior?

As a child, Harry had watched cartoons where wizards used massive crystal balls for divination, rode flying broomsticks, wore pointed hats, and kept cats by their side…

…All those stereotypes were true.

At Hogwarts, first-years were required to take Astronomy, and from third year onward, students could choose Divination or Arithmancy as electives. Perhaps most wizards knew a bit of divination, though few mastered it.

At the very least, none of Harry’s followers had such talent.

Could a highly skilled wizard have foreseen his crossing?

Returning to this new world, the ultimate goal was the clearest among all the worlds, with traceable clues.

Whenever the aunt and uncle who adopted him in this world jokingly brought up the topic, Harry felt something special.

By steering conversations and using a process of elimination to compare how each topic felt, Harry concluded that the goal was to avoid cheating, not take the arts or sports route, and not repeat or fail a grade. Six years from now, in the college entrance exam, he had to rely purely on his academic prowess to get into Tsinghua or Peking University—ideally, even clinching the fiercely competitive provincial top scorer title in XX province.

That was the main storyline of Chinese Parents.

Hah! He’d saved entire worlds—what was a mere exam?

Not to boast, but back in his British primary school, Harry’s grades were solidly average.

After crossing to other worlds, his math skills hadn’t regressed—they’d improved. He was practically a Westerosi math prodigy. Combining knowledge from both worlds, his math was likely approaching the level of a second-year student in an ordinary British school. Why else would they call it world-shaking intellect?

Now, with the mature mindset he’d gained from crossing, plus being British, his English was naturally excellent—one less subject to worry about. Learning the knowledge meant for kids?

Hmph, getting into some prestigious university he’d never heard of, like “Tsinghua” or “Peking”? Piece of cake. All he needed was a hand to write with.

The provincial top scorer might be a bit tricky, but still.

He was about to start school.

As a transfer student, he enrolled in a mid-tier local junior high, starting in the first year. His guardians also hired a tutor to cram Chinese language skills.

Perfect—his final weakness was being addressed. From his experience, primary school knowledge was easy to catch up on. The advantage was his!

Step one: three years from now, ace the high school entrance exam and get into a key high school.

Chinese:

“I don’t get it—Chinese is too hard! I just learned these characters, so why can’t I understand this? Bloody hell!”

The Meaning of “Meaning”:

Harry gave a red envelope to the leader, and their conversation was quite amusing.

Leader: “What’s the meaning of this?”

Harry: “No special meaning, just a small gesture.”

Leader: “Now you’re being insincere.”

Harry: “Just a little token, a little token.”

Leader: “You’re quite the character.”

Harry: “Honestly, there’s no other meaning behind it.”

Leader: “Well, then I’m a bit embarrassed.”

Harry: “No, I’m the one who’s embarrassed.”

“Damn it, what’s your meaning? I think you’re just making things difficult for me, Harry!”

Math:

“By the Seven bloody gods, is this Teacher guy sick or what? And why is the curriculum moving so fast? I just finished primary school, and my near-second-year strength is stuck here!”

English:

“Listening is fine, but what’s with reading comprehension? Shit, how am I supposed to know what they’re trying to say? What’s with this grammar? Why add modifiers here, a relative clause there, and…”

“How did I not know English had all this stuff? Am I not British?”

“It’s over…”

“There’s no way I’ll get into Tsinghua or Peking like this.”

Harry gave up.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t win.

Studying like this for six years, he’d be lucky to get into a vocational college.

In reality, he was so far behind that he might not even pass the high school entrance exam, let alone get into a key high school. He’d probably end up in a technical school.

Two and a half years later:

Harry’s grades were far from ideal, but in the end, he still got into Tsinghua—because, before turning fourteen, he won multiple world championships and was specially recruited.

But the system didn’t acknowledge it. It didn’t grant the ultimate mission rewards, likely golden attribute points or intelligence stats.

Harry didn’t care. Studying? Screw that.

Compared to an impossible task like becoming the king of academics, Harry decided to focus on saving the world to boost his attributes.

It felt like Harry had been in a long, long dream. In it, he met all sorts of people and experienced countless events.

When he snapped out of it, all those experiences faded, and his body returned to its eleven-year-old state, confirming his earlier theory about crossing: each crossing allowed him to grow from his age at the time, and upon returning, he reverted to his original state.

A deep crimson steam locomotive stood at a crowded platform.

A sign on the train read: Hogwarts Express, 11:00.

Harry glanced back, seeing only a barrier with the words Platform 9¾.

His experiences in China felt like a dream.

Only his perfect Mandarin and the system’s achievements—Chosen One, All-Around Sports King, Eternal GOAT, Star of Olympus—reminded him it wasn’t a dream.