Once upon a time, Vaughn Weasley genuinely dreamed of becoming a world-class Potioneer. A proper potion celebrity.
Unfortunately, the field was already packed with giants.
The first few potions he brewed - standard concoctions like Energy Draughts and Blood-Replenishing Potions - were barely passable. They couldn't hold a candle to those created by famous potion masters, and most apothecaries didn't even bother replying to his owl posts, let alone consider selling them.
Then, everything changed.
One afternoon, he saw his mum washing Ginny's hair and complaining about how long and tangled it had grown. She muttered something about needing a bottle of "Instant Sleek Spray." That was the moment inspiration struck him like a well-aimed Stunning Spell.
What could be more profitable than selling to women and children?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
He had forgotten something important - witches were still women. And women, magical or not, had a fierce appreciation for beauty and an even stronger dread of wasting time. They were far more willing to spend money than wizards.
Back then, Vaughn was only eight. Unknown, unproven, and still struggling with some potion theory. Yet even so, a few curious witches were willing to try out his first few "Vaughn Beautifying" prototypes. Now, years later, that humble experiment had grown into a full-fledged line of products.
It had earned him a surprising amount of fame.
And a few hundred Galleons each month.
"Vaughn, sweetheart, are you done up there?"
A knock at the attic door pulled him out of his thoughts. He quickly closed the glowing system panel floating in front of him and started packing his vials into a box, careful to stack the empties apart from the finished products.
"Yeah, Mum. I'm ready. Is that Madam Primpernelle's owl again?"
The attic door creaked open and Molly Weasley entered, beaming fondly as she ruffled Vaughn's bright red hair.
"Yes, dear. The owl's waiting downstairs. Your father's feeding it some of the good treats, don't worry."
She pulled a worn but well-cared-for coin pouch from the depths of her apron and set it gently on Vaughn's worktable.
"That's the money from the delivery. Keep it, love. You earned it."
Vaughn frowned. "Mum, you don't have to--"
"No," Molly said, her tone firm but not unkind. She pulled him into a warm, motherly hug that nearly smothered him.
"Sweetheart, we've talked about this. Your money is your own. Just like Bill's. Just like Charlie's. You've already helped the family plenty. We're your parents. It's our job to take care of you, not the other way around."
This was not the first time they'd had this conversation. Ever since Vaughn started making money, he'd tried to contribute more to the household. Every time, Molly refused. Every time, he reluctantly relented.
It was moments like this that reminded him, both from books he'd read and now lived experience, that while the Weasleys might be poor in Galleons, Arthur and Molly had never fallen short as parents.
With Molly's help, Vaughn packed the finished bottles into a protective case and cast a quick spell to keep them from shattering. He picked up the box and followed her down the winding stairs of The Burrow.
Arthur Weasley was already at the kitchen table, reading the Daily Prophet and sipping tea. The owl was perched nearby, eyes alert and wings slightly open.
"Good morning, Dad."
"Morning, Vaughn! Come along now, our feathered friend's getting impatient."
"You know it's impatient, yet you still didn't go help him tidy up," Molly scolded, hands on her hips. "Arthur Weasley, what do you even do in the mornings besides read that paper? Poor Vaughn's up all night brewing, and what do you do to help? You haven't cleaned a single cauldron this week!"
Arthur immediately ducked behind his newspaper like a man fleeing a hex.
A new day had begun in the usual Weasley way - with Molly shouting, Arthur dodging, and an owl flapping madly as it struggled to carry a heavy package into the sky.
Vaughn slipped off toward the bathroom with his usual blank expression. As he passed the enchanted full-length mirror in the hallway, the glass trembled slightly.
"Don't. Even. Start," Vaughn muttered, drawing his old wand and aiming it at the frame.
The mirror froze. Vaughn walked away. A moment later, it gave a soft, defeated click.
By the time he returned, the house was waking up. A gangly boy with a mop of red hair and a face full of freckles was heading toward the bathroom. When he saw Vaughn, he paused mid-step.
Vaughn smiled. "Morning, Ron."
"Mm… morning," Ron muttered, puffing out his cheeks.
"Polite, but lacking warmth," Vaughn teased. "Try again. Call me 'brother'."
"You were only born five minutes before me," Ron muttered under his breath, his ears turning red.
Vaughn grinned even wider. He remembered that moment well. Ron was supposed to come out first, but things got tight in there, and Vaughn might have kicked him - just a little.
As the twins arrived, cheerful and far too energetic, they flanked Ron like a pair of Aurors escorting a prisoner.
"Even five minutes makes you older," said Fred, resting his chin on Ron's shoulder. "Right, George?"
"Absolutely, Fred. Same way I'm older than you by ten seconds."
"You're clearly mistaken, George. I'm the older one."
"No, no. I remember it vividly."
Their voices overlapped as they fell into another round of who-was-born-first.
Their bickering made Ron dizzy. He groaned and muttered something about headaches.
Thankfully, Ginny came bounding down the stairs at that moment. She ran straight into Vaughn's arms, grinning.
"Morning, Vaughn!"
"Morning, Ginny," Vaughn said, kissing her on the forehead.
Of all his siblings, Vaughn was closest to Ginny. By the time she was born, he had already fully adjusted to his new life in the magical world and accepted the Weasleys as his real family. On top of that, he and Ginny looked the most alike, practically mirror images with their vivid red hair and bright brown eyes.
Arthur and Molly would often joke that they looked more like twins than Vaughn and Ron ever did.
It was a noisy morning, the usual kind of chaos that clung to the Burrow like the smell of treacle tart. But today, something felt different.
Arthur didn't leave for the Ministry right after breakfast.
Percy, who usually retreated upstairs with a book as soon as his plate was empty, was now sitting near the window, peering out.
Even Fred and George weren't up to their usual pranks. They stayed in their seats, winking at Vaughn and occasionally giving Ron a harmless jab, but never with the usual mischief in their eyes.
Ron, who would normally storm off, chose to remain rooted in place, face tense.
They were all waiting.
Waiting for the Hogwarts letters.
When the sun finally rose high enough to peek over the hills and spill golden light into the kitchen, they heard it - the unmistakable flutter of wings.
Molly, who had been pretending to tidy, stood up so quickly she nearly knocked over a chair. She rushed to the window and flung it open.
Arthur lowered his paper and retrieved a biscuit for the owl, already anticipating what was to come.
A tawny owl swooped through the open window and landed gracefully on the kitchen table. Two thick envelopes were tied to its leg.
Even without opening them, everyone recognized the sturdy parchment, the heavy red wax seal, and the emblem stamped into it - the lion, eagle, badger, and serpent curled around the capital letter H.
Hogwarts.
Molly carefully untied the letters and gasped with delight, clutching them to her chest.
"Thank Merlin! The Hogwarts letters. I've been worried sick since yesterday, thinking, what if they don't arrive?"
Arthur leaned over to see the names, but Molly turned her back, holding the letters protectively. "Honestly, Vaughn was never the one I was worried about. It was Ron! He's been about as magical as a stone since he could walk. I was terrified he wouldn't get in!"
"Mum!" Ron's face turned a deeper shade of red than his hair. He snatched the letters from her, shoved Vaughn's into his brother's hand, and bolted upstairs with his own.
Vaughn watched him go with a soft chuckle, then turned over the envelope in his hand.
The Burrow, Kitchen
To: Mr. Vaughn Weasley
And then, just as the parchment touched his fingers, the system panel flickered into view once more.
[Main Quest Unlocked]
Main Quest ①: Enroll at Hogwarts (Incomplete)
Reward: 1 Talent Point, 50 Magic Points