At first, Vaughn had actually tried to be a proper up-and-coming potioneer.
Unfortunately, the field was too crowded with established masters...
His initial batches of Pepperup Potions, Blood-Replenishing Potions, and other standard healing remedies couldn't compete with famous potioneers. Apothecaries wouldn't even stock his products, let alone sell them.
Then one day, he watched his mother washing Ginny's hair, complaining about how thick it was getting and how she'd have to buy more Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. Inspiration struck like lightning—suddenly, the path forward seemed blindingly obvious.
What's easier money than what you can make from women and children?
Nothing!
As it turned out, witches were women too.
Their pursuit of beauty and fear of aging made them far more willing to spend money than wizards ever were!
Even at eight years old with zero reputation, Vaughn had found witches willing to try his "Vaughn Beauty" product line. Now, years later, it had grown into a full series under his careful development.
It brought him fame and a monthly income of several hundred Galleons!
"Vaughn, sweetheart, are you finished?"
The knock on the door broke through his thoughts.
He closed the system panel and began packing bottles of beauty potion into an empty crate. "Just finished, Mum. Did Mrs. Primpernelle's owl arrive?"
The attic door swung open and plump Molly walked in, affectionately ruffling Vaughn's fiery red hair. "The owl's downstairs waiting. Your father's feeding it treats—no need to rush."
She pulled a money pouch from her apron and set it on the workbench. "The owl brought this payment. Put it away safe, dear."
"Mum, you should keep it..."
"Absolutely not!" Molly's expression turned stern, though it quickly softened as she pulled Vaughn into her ample embrace. "Sweetheart, we can't keep using your money. Your father and I have said it before—what you earn is yours, same as Bill and Charlie. Besides, you've already given us plenty."
They'd had this conversation more times than Vaughn could count since he'd started earning money and trying to contribute to the household.
The result was always the same—Molly insisted he keep his earnings.
Whether from reading the books in his past life or experiencing it firsthand now, one thing was clear: the Weasleys might be poor, but Arthur and Molly had never once failed as parents.
With Molly's help, he packed the crate and cast a protective charm to keep the bottles from breaking. Then he carried it downstairs behind her.
On the ground floor, Arthur had finished feeding the owl and sat at the kitchen table reading the Daily Prophet.
"Morning, Dad!"
"Good morning, Vaughn. Come on then, the little fellow's getting impatient."
"If it's so impatient, why didn't you go up and help Vaughn pack?" Molly's voice rose sharply. "Arthur Weasley, what do you do every morning besides read the paper? Poor Vaughn works so hard—brewing potions takes days—and you've never once helped him! Won't help with chores either..."
Arthur quickly ducked back behind his newspaper as Molly's tirade continued.
A new day began with Molly's scolding and the owl's labored wingbeats as it lifted the heavy crate.
Just another typical morning.
Vaughn headed to wash up without batting an eye. As he passed the enchanted mirror, it began to tremble.
"Shut it! Not a word!" Vaughn yanked out his old wand and jabbed it threateningly at the mirror.
The mirror fell silent immediately. Only after Vaughn had walked away could a barely audible whisper be heard: "...scruffy..."
By the time he emerged, Molly had roused everyone else. A freckle-faced boy was about to duck into the bathroom when he spotted Vaughn. His expression stiffened.
Vaughn smiled at him. "Morning, Ron!"
"..." Ron's cheeks puffed out as he mumbled, "Morning, Vaughn."
"Where are your manners? Say 'big brother'!"
Ron's face turned scarlet. He muttered under his breath, "You were only born five minutes before me..."
Vaughn's smile grew even brighter. He still remembered being born—Ron was supposed to come out first, but Vaughn had felt so cramped and uncomfortable that he'd kicked him...
As the standoff continued, a pair of identical twins appeared behind Ron with characteristic energy, draping their arms over his shoulders like Aurors escorting a prisoner.
"Five minutes still makes him older, right George?"
"Exactly, Fred. Just like I'm only ten seconds older than you, but you still have to call me your big brother."
"George, you're still half-asleep. I'm ten seconds older than you."
"No, it's me!"
Ron's head spun from their bickering, his frustration mounting.
Fortunately, Ginny came running over just then, throwing herself happily into Vaughn's arms. Ron seized the distraction to mutter something under his breath and bolt into the bathroom.
"Morning, Vaughn!"
"Morning, Ginny." Vaughn kissed his little sister's forehead.
Of everyone in the family, he and Ginny were closest. Partly because by the time she was born, he'd already adjusted to his new life and could genuinely accept his new family. Partly because they looked the most alike—they were the best-looking Weasleys by far.
When they were little, Arthur and Molly used to joke that Vaughn and Ginny seemed more like twins, while actual twins Vaughn and Ron looked nothing alike.
The chaotic morning didn't settle down even after breakfast.
But today was different from usual. Arthur wasn't rushing off to the Ministry.
Percy, who normally retreated to his room after meals to bury himself in books, sat by the window staring outside.
Fred and George, who usually ran off to cause mischief, sat obediently in their chairs, making faces at Vaughn and occasionally needling Ron.
And Ron, who would normally flee in exasperation from their teasing, grimly held his ground today.
The whole family was waiting. Waiting for letters from Hogwarts.
As the sun climbed over the hills and its light poured into the Burrow, they finally heard the sound of beating wings.
Molly, who'd seemed calm but had clearly been distracted all morning, jumped up to open the window.
Arthur set down his newspaper and brought out the leftover owl treats from earlier.
Moments later, an owl flew in and landed on the kitchen table.
Two letters were tied to its leg—thick parchment envelopes that even from a distance showed the distinctive wax seal: a shield-shaped coat of arms featuring a large "H" surrounded by a lion, eagle, badger, and snake.
Molly excitedly untied the envelopes, glanced at the addresses, and could no longer contain her joy and relief. "Thank Merlin! Hogwarts acceptance letters! I've been worried since yesterday—what if they didn't come?"
Arthur, who'd half-risen but hadn't managed to grab the letters from Molly, tried to sound nonchalant. "You always worry too much. Of course Vaughn would get into Hogwarts."
"I was worried about Ron! You don't know how terrified I've been that he wouldn't get a letter. This boy's been like a stone since he was little—even his magical outbursts were barely noticeable..."
"Mum!"
Face as red as his hair, Ron snatched the letters away. He tossed Vaughn's across the table, then clutched his own tightly and bolted upstairs.
Vaughn watched with an amused smile, unconcerned. He picked up his letter and turned it over.
[The Burrow, Kitchen, Mr. Vaughn Weasley]
At the same moment, the system panel materialized before his eyes.
[Main Quest Activated]
[Main Quest ①: Enter Hogwarts (Incomplete)]
[Reward: 1 Aptitude Point, 50 Magical Power]