A letter from Hogwarts is no small matter.
For a Muggle family, it could turn their entire world upside down and bring them into the magical fold. For a wizarding household, it was the single greatest reassurance that their child wasn't a Squib.
So, naturally, when the letter arrived, the entire Weasley household burst into celebration. Molly Weasley prepared a glorious feast, the kind that made the kitchen counters groan under the weight of so many dishes.
By midday, they had set up a tent in the garden, right by the edge of the pond, ready to enjoy the summer breeze, the glittering water, and a proper garden party.
Arthur, full of enthusiasm, even suggested inviting all their neighbors, but was swiftly shut down by Molly brandishing a feather duster like a sword. She had never liked the Lovegoods' eccentric habits, and the Fawcett family barely exchanged two words with them. In the end, they settled for inviting only the Diggorys.
Amos Diggory, like Arthur, worked at the Ministry of Magic, though in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Technically, that made them colleagues.
But Arthur's motivation for inviting him had nothing to do with professional courtesy.
"That man is unbearable!" Arthur grumbled to Molly as he straightened the tablecloth. "Every time I see him, it's always 'Cedric this' and 'Cedric that', as if no other child has ever done anything remotely impressive. The man could find a way to brag while asking for sugar."
So, naturally, when Amos Diggory Apparated into the yard with his son Cedric in tow, Arthur greeted him with a beaming grin and an arm slung proudly around Vaughn's shoulders.
"Amos! Welcome to the Burrow. This is my son, Vaughn. I'll wager you've heard of him."
Amos Diggory, a red-faced man with a bristly brown mustache that looked like it could stir a cup of tea on its own, shook Arthur's hand heartily while sizing up Vaughn with sharp eyes.
"Yes, of course, Arthur! Your little potions prodigy. I've heard all about him. Today's the big day, isn't it? The Hogwarts letter? And what about Ron?"
Arthur's smile faltered for the briefest moment. Vaughn saw the flicker of panic behind his father's eyes as he gave a quick glance around the yard.
"Oh, Ron got his letter too, yes. Very proud moment."
Amos raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why didn't you bring him out? Frankly, I think it'd be a good idea to have him spend more time with Cedric. You know, our Ced's got top marks in Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall can't stop singing his praises. He's also the Seeker for Hufflepuff, did I mention that? Could be a good influence on Ron. Might help him... improve."
In the fine art of parental boasting, Amos was clearly a master. He effortlessly avoided any area where Arthur might have an advantage and went straight for Ron's weaker spots.
Vaughn, watching from the side, had to press his lips together to keep from laughing. The way these two grown men jousted with words, you'd think they were fighting a duel, not discussing their children.
As for Cedric, he looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.
Handsome and clearly well-mannered, the boy gave off a quiet humility that clashed spectacularly with his father's constant trumpet-blowing.
As Amos cornered Arthur near the fire pit and launched into another tale of Cedric's greatness, Cedric slipped over to Vaughn and said in a low voice, "Sorry about my dad. He really doesn't mean to come off like that. He just... exaggerates everything."
From across the yard, as if on cue, Amos's voice rang out, "...and of course Cedric is always polite and refined. A real gentleman through and through!"
Cedric winced. "See what I mean?"
Vaughn gave a sympathetic smile, and Cedric quickly tried to change the subject. He offered his hand with the kind of earnestness that made it impossible not to like him.
"Cedric Diggory. It's an honor to meet you, Vaughn Weasley. I've read some of your essays on potion theory. The way you approach development, it's brilliant."
Vaughn shook his hand and chuckled. "Thanks. Just a few tricks, really. The Potioneers' Guild still accuses me of 'dabbling in eccentricities.'"
The truth was, Vaughn had made a small fortune off his signature potion line, the Vaughn's Vitality products, and not everyone in the potions community was thrilled about it. Especially since he'd achieved this before even setting foot in Hogwarts.
At only eight years old, he had already developed working commercial potions, something practically unheard of in wizarding history. If he hadn't been from a respectable pure-blood family, and if there was even a shred less shame in the adult world, someone would've tried to steal his work outright.
Now that his articles were published and his name was established, the only attacks his rivals could manage came in the form of grumbling editorials in The Daily Prophet.
And Cedric, bright, eager, and free of jealousy, was genuinely impressed.
He began firing off questions one after another about potion transmutation, and Vaughn, more than happy to finally talk shop with someone who could follow him, dove right in.
"I haven't attempted Polyjuice Potion yet," Cedric confessed. "You can't get the recipe anywhere. They say the Scarpin Revelation Charm can be used to break down a potion's composition, but that's a restricted spell."
"True," Vaughn nodded. "That's why I'm looking forward to Hogwarts too. Proper access to books and professors, nothing beats that. But back to your point. Even without brewing Polyjuice itself, you can study its key ingredients. I recommend experimenting with powdered bicorn horn. Safely, of course."
Cedric tilted his head. "So you're saying the transformative element comes from the bicorn?"
"Not exactly. The bicorn provides range and flexibility, it's what lets the potion adapt to another person's body. But the real transformation magic? That comes from fluxweed. It's a plant that changes its properties depending on the lunar cycle. That instability is what the potion uses to reshape your body. Combine the two, and you've got a brew that can change everything, including gender. Frankly, I think the full potential of that magic hasn't even been scratched."
Vaughn's voice was calm but full of fire. He didn't often get to talk about this stuff with anyone, and Cedric's sincere curiosity made it all the more enjoyable.
Meanwhile, across the table, Ron was trapped in a private kind of torment.
Despite delaying his entrance until the very moment the food was served, Amos Diggory still managed to spot him and draw him into a torturous round of "why can't you be more like Cedric."
In desperation, Ron made a break for it.
"Cedric's over there asking Vaughn about potions. I think I'll join them."
Amos immediately dropped the subject and waved him off. Ron could feel the pity in his father's eyes, and it made his legs feel like lead.
Just when he thought it couldn't get worse, Molly brought out the pièce de résistance: hot pot.
Not the sad British version either, this was real, bubbling, aromatic glory. Vaughn, who had always found traditional British fare a bit uninspired, had taken advantage of Arthur's job at the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office to "recreate" it from memory based on a few food magazines he'd found lying around.
Arthur, having barely spoken a word since Amos arrived, perked up like a sunflower in daylight. Grinning, he began praising Vaughn's culinary ingenuity loud enough for everyone to hear.
Ron slumped in his seat, feeling like the world's saddest side character in someone else's biography.