Harry Potter: From Little Wizard to White Lord

Over the next few days, Vaughn's life at Hogwarts finally settled into a comfortable rhythm.

He attended classes, answered the professors' questions when prompted, and often received encouraging feedback in return, further fueling his thirst for knowledge.

On the very first day of Charms class, he earned high praise from Professor Flitwick for his flawless execution of the lighting Charm. The tiny professor, who likely had a touch of goblin ancestry, was so impressed he even took the time to look through Vaughn's meticulous notes.

But he didn't invite Vaughn to join the Charms Club.

"Your magical reserves are still growing, Mr. Weasley," Professor Flitwick had said in his trademark high-pitched voice. "At your age, it's more important to build a solid foundation in the basics rather than diving into advanced theory. But mark my words, by your third year, I'll be expecting you in my club... that is, if you aren't already swallowed up by the Transfiguration Club."

To show his appreciation, Flitwick awarded Slytherin twenty house points on the spot.

Vaughn was overjoyed.

After all, any opportunity to earn points was worth seizing, especially because a new system quest had just activated.

[Main Quest II: Ensure Slytherin wins the House Cup by the end of the school year]

[Reward: 1 Talent Point, 50 Magic Scale Units]

At first glance, it didn't seem too hard.

But anyone who knew the future could see the real problem.

The world's most powerful white wizard had just started grooming his so-called "Chosen One" and wasn't above handing out points like free samples.

True, he only really cheated that one time... but wouldn't you know it, this was that very year.

So the system had decided to make things as difficult as magically possible.

Vaughn didn't have a perfect plan yet, but he wasn't one to give up easily either. He'd take it one point at a time.

Two days passed. He survived the soul-numbing drudgery of History of Magic, Professor Binns' voice could sedate a mountain troll. Vaughn managed to stay awake for half the class before nodding off, and still somehow earned five house points.

Though to be fair, Binns had called him "Victor Weasley."

He also endured the rather dull Astronomy class. Apparently, it was a required subject because it formed the basis of Divination. Out of sheer respect for his pitiful Divination stat of "2," Vaughn shamelessly parroted information he'd memorized back in his Muggle life.

It shocked Professor Sinistra.

She was especially baffled when Vaughn kept obsessing over whether the solar system had eight or nine planets.

Herbology was far more fun.

Though they didn't get to do any hands-on work during the first lesson, Professor Sprout gave them a tour of the Hogwarts greenhouses. Vaughn found it enchanting, not just the plants, but the greenhouses themselves.

They had been magically expanded with Undetectable Extension Charms, creating ecosystems that mimicked everything from tropical rainforests and alpine tundras to swamps and deserts. It was like stepping into a living encyclopedia of magical botany.

Vaughn earned twenty house points that day thanks to his ability to recite textbook facts like a walking encyclopedia. Hermione earned twenty as well, of course.

Surprisingly, even Neville scored ten, he had an uncanny knack for Herbology.

Fortunately, Fred and George Weasley made up for it that evening by losing twenty points for Gryffindor after pranking some poor second years in the corridor.

And as for Defense Against the Dark Arts...

Professor Quirrell, who wore a turban so large it looked like he was smuggling cauldrons, was as effective as a damp sponge. His breath smelled like garlic gone sour, and he seemed terrified of his own shadow.

He taught by reading straight from the textbook. When Seamus Finnigan asked a question about how to defeat a reanimated corpse, Quirrell stammered out such a tangled mess of nonsense that Vaughn had to jump in to help clarify.

Quirrell, clearly grateful, awarded Slytherin ten points.

Then, a few minutes later, as if he'd forgotten he'd already done it, he awarded another ten.

Harry and Ron weren't impressed.

"He's definitely been brainwashed by a vampire," Ron muttered afterward.

But Vaughn knew better.

That second ten points? Almost certainly Voldemort's idea. The Dark Lord had a thing for Hogwarts and Slytherin.

Once, in the prime of his power, Tom Riddle had applied to be a professor. When he was rejected, he didn't sulk, he cursed the job.

"If I can't have it, no one can!"

Now that is what true love looks like.

Finally, Friday arrived, the last day of the first week and it was time for the most dreaded class of all: Potions.

That morning, Harry and Ron were practically groaning into their toast.

"I'm telling you, Snape hates me," Harry said, glancing toward the staff table. "At the Welcoming Feast, the way he looked at me, it was like I'd drowned his cat."

"Don't be thick, Harry," Ron replied. "Snape looks at everyone like they owe him five hundred Galleons. But he does play favorites with Slytherin. Vaughn's probably skipping around in joy right now."

He glanced sourly at the Ravenclaw table.

Because that's where Vaughn was sitting.

In fact, it had become something of a school-wide mystery: where would Vaughn sit today?

At first, everyone assumed he was a Gryffindor, he was a Weasley, after all.

But on the second day, he turned up at the Hufflepuff table, happily chatting with Cedric Diggory. Rumor had it he even visited their common room later that night.

That rumor may or may not have been started by Ron himself, Vaughn told him the Hufflepuff common room was conveniently located next to the Hogwarts kitchens.

By the end of the week, Vaughn Weasley had "graced" all four houses.

Now each morning at breakfast, students from every year craned their necks to see where the infamous redhead had decided to sit.

It had become something of a schoolwide phenomenon.

Even stranger, wherever Vaughn went, he somehow always had someone to chat with.

Slytherin had Malfoy (though not entirely by choice), Hufflepuff had Cedric, and Gryffindor... well, Vaughn knew everyone in Gryffindor.

That morning, from the Ravenclaw table, laughter rang out like chimes. Prefect Penelope Clearwater was giggling like she'd just heard the best joke of her life.

Ron glared. "He's always been like that, playing with the girls since he was five."

Hermione slammed her book shut. "Then why don't you, as his brother, say something? Instead of whining?"

Ron blinked. "What? How is this my fault?!"

But Hermione was on a roll.

"All you two ever do is gossip and complain! If you're so worried about Snape being biased, maybe try studying! We've been here an entire week, have you even looked at the syllabus?"

She grabbed her bag and stormed off, leaving Ron blinking.

"Mad, she is," he muttered. "Vaughn goes off to flirt with half the school and I'm the one who gets yelled at?"

Then he added darkly, "Watch. Just watch. In Potions class, she'll be laughing with him again like nothing happened. Silly girl."

And sure enough, Ron was right.

During Potions, Vaughn and Hermione were seated together once more, and it only took him two jokes and a compliment before she was beaming at him again.

But even their little reunion couldn't lighten the mood entirely, for Ron and Harry, another prediction had come true as well.

"Ah... Harry Potter."

The dungeon classroom fell quiet.

From the shadows at the front of the room, Professor Snape emerged like a phantom, his black eyes locked on Harry with a look of loathing that could curdle milk.