A summer morning was approaching in Devon.
Long before dawn, a cool breeze swept across the fields outside Ottery St. Catchpole. It climbed over Stoatshead Hill and bent the vast reeds growing behind it into waves rolling like the ocean surf. The air carried a crisp freshness unique to the hours before sunrise.
The residents of Ottery St. Catchpole always claimed there was nothing out there but endless miles of reeds and empty wilderness.
The wind knew better. It knew a wizarding family had made a secret home among those reeds.
The property featured a sizable garden, anchored by a pond at its center that rippled gently whenever the breeze picked up. The main building rose several stories high, appearing as though it might topple over at the slightest provocation. Only the ground floor seemed solid and conventional, covered in faded paint that someone still took the trouble to maintain. A wooden sign hung from the front door, words carved deep into the grain. The Burrow.
The sign held a history of its own. More than twenty years ago, a young couple had selected this spot to build a life together. They poured every hope for a warm and happy future into constructing that single small story, believing it would suffice.
Life, however, had far grander schemes in store. As more children arrived, the little house had no choice but to expand alongside them. They added floor upon floor, each story stacked slightly more crooked than the one below it.
Over time, it evolved into the odd-looking tower standing there today, defying the laws of physics and Muggle expectations alike.
High atop the Burrow, the attic that had long housed a ghoul had been completely transformed. Rows of shelves now lined every wall, cluttered with boxes, jars, and bottles of all shapes and sizes. The center of the room was the only open space.
A simple workbench stood there holding all the equipment needed for brewing potions. A fire crackled steadily beneath a copper cauldron, its contents bubbling away and sending fragrant steam curling toward the ceiling.
Warren Weasley stood before the cauldron, his red hair falling across his forehead as he focused entirely on the task at hand. He had just finished carefully measuring his ingredients, and now he checked the potion's temperature one last time.
"Lady's Mantle, Boomslang skin, and just a pinch of Fairy wings," he murmured to himself.
He turned the flame down and waited for the cauldron to cool before reaching for his final ingredient.
"And finally, Fluxweed, to give the beauty potion the body-shaping properties everyone desires."
He watched the potion closely as the Fluxweed dissolved into the liquid. The temperature fell steadily until a marvelous reaction occurred. The final bubble popped, and the thick, black liquid transformed right before his eyes. It cleared rapidly, shifting from murky opacity to the clarity of clear amber honey. A sweet, clean scent rose from the cauldron and filled the entire attic.
"Success."
Warren went to the shelves and rummaged through a collection that appeared to be total chaos to anyone else, yet was perfectly organized in his mind. He pulled down a box of empty vials and waved his worn wand with practiced ease. The potion lifted from the cauldron, pouring itself into each vial with surgical precision without spilling a single drop.
He sat down to label them by hand, his script neat and careful.
[Warren's Beauty Potion (Anti-Wrinkle Formula)]
[For external use only. Apply with a gentle massage to smooth away wrinkles and restore healthy, tight skin.]
With the work finally finished, Warren stretched his arms overhead until his bones cracked. It was that deeply satisfying sound they always made after he had been hunched over the cauldron for too long. He turned to gaze out the attic window, watching the reeds sway in the morning breeze like ocean waves. Pink and gold bled into the blue as the sky brightened on the horizon.
For a moment, that familiar feeling washed over him. It was the distinct sense that he did not quite belong there, even after all these years.
Eleven years. That was how long it had been since he had woken up in this world. From his very first breath, he learned he was a Weasley. He had five older brothers named Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, and George, plus a twin brother born five minutes after him. This was the boy he had accidentally kicked on his way out, named Ronald Bilius Weasley, or Ron for short. There was no question about what world he had landed in. He had landed in Harry Potter's world.
In the eleven years since his birth, Warren still often looked back on his past life. Those memories remained fairly clear, all things considered.
However, having lived in this world for so long, the past was inevitably starting to fade around the edges. That was to be expected. One could not spend more than a decade in a new world and expect the old one to stay completely sharp.
Warren shook off the thought and silently summoned his System.
A panel materialized in front of him, visible to no one else.
[Host: Warren Weasley]
[Mana Level: 370 (Average adult wizard: 500)]
[Affinities: Charms 7, Dark Arts 6, Transfiguration 7, Potions 10, Herbology 6, Divination 2 (Max: 10)]
[Spells: Occlumency LV5 (MAX), Shield Charm LV3 (2/8), Disarming Charm LV2 (2/4), Levitation Charm LV2 (0/4), Full Body Bind LV2 (0/4), Fire Making Charm LV2 (1/4), Wand Lighting Charm LV2 (0/2)]
[Potions: Elixir of Happiness, Invigoration Draught, Blood Replenishing Potion, Sleekeazy's Potion, Hair Raising Potion, Beauty Potion (Master Level, includes multiple formulas)]
[Reputation Points: 12]
The System awakened the very moment Warren took his first breath in this world.
Warren had read all the books and watched all the movies in his past life. He knew exactly how dangerous this world would become as he grew older. If the System had not given him courage and direction from day one, he might have simply given up before he even started walking.
He glanced at the Affinities section of his System panel and felt that familiar satisfaction at seeing [Potions 10] right there in black and white. It was a satisfaction nothing else could match.
All his other affinities were innate, present from birth. Only Potions came from the System's starter pack when it first awakened, accompanied by max-level Occlumency and a single randomly maxed affinity. He had been incredibly lucky with that roll.
Over the past eleven years, he had slowly deciphered the mechanics of the Reputation System through trial and error. It never issued quests, offered no shop to spend points in, and provided no lottery for prizes. Its sole function was exactly what the name suggested. At the end of every month, it calculated Reputation Points based on the spread of his name throughout the wizarding world.
These points could be used to increase his spell levels. The numbers in parentheses next to each spell within the System panel showed exactly how many points were needed to advance to the next stage.
Harder spells required more points to level up, while easier ones needed fewer.
He could also improve spells through traditional practice, but mastering them this way required significant time and natural talent.
Once Warren fully understood the mechanics of the System, he felt incredibly grateful that the starter pack had maxed out his Potions affinity right from the beginning. Potions was, without a doubt, a deep and intricate subject. Yet the barrier to entry was surprisingly low. Give any witch or wizard some ingredients, a recipe, and a cauldron, and they could give it a try. Some of the simplest recipes did not even require a wand to brew.
No other magical discipline was better suited for a young child who did not yet possess a wand.
Warren had always been cautious by nature, a trait he carried over from his past life.
He knew that both his identity as a transmigrator and the existence of his System were enormous secrets that must never be revealed. As a young child, he never tried to stand out or draw attention to himself.
It wasn't until he turned four that Warren began carefully crafting a reputation as a prodigy. When it came to the basics like reading, writing, and drawing, he vastly outperformed Ron without even trying. Naturally, this sparked conversation, though it didn't cause a massive stir.
By the time he was seven, he began gradually guiding this image of genius toward his true passion, Potions.
He started with the simplest brews and steadily worked his way up. Four years had passed since then. In that time, he moved from his early days of tentatively asking Bill and Charlie for advice to refining established recipes and devising his own variations. Warren had become a moderately well-known potioneer in certain circles.
Specifically within the realm of beauty products, the papers he published and the refined cosmetic potions he developed had practically made him famous. He was now regarded as a beauty expert and a witches' best friend across the entire wizarding world.
There was no particular reason he chose to specialize in beauty products of all things, really. They were simply easy to market and sold like wildfire.
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