According to the parchment list, Vaughn quickly located his assigned dormitory.
Slytherin normally placed four boys per room, but assignments shifted depending on the year's intake. Vaughn was lucky—his dormitory only had three occupants.
The other two weren't worth remembering. Vaughn didn't even bother learning their names. With any luck, they would request to move out in the next few days.
The moment he pushed open the door, a large orange-gold cat launched itself at him.
"Alright, alright—Guoguo Tea, you clingy little thing, you're too heavy!"
"Mrrrow~"
Her paws landed squarely on his chest as she shoved her head under his chin, purring like a tiny thunderstorm.
"Hungry, are you? Sorry—pets aren't allowed at the Welcoming Feast. Here, have some dried fish. Starting tomorrow, you can eat breakfast with me."
Vaughn smiled as he fed the spoiled cat.
In his previous life, he'd been an exhausted office worker with barely enough energy to look after himself, let alone a pet. Guoguo Tea had originally been nothing more than a convenient way to keep an eye on Scabbers.
But somewhere along the way, he'd genuinely grown fond of her.
Holding her now—warm, soft, affectionate—he couldn't help thinking of his family. Percy's stunned expression, Fred and George's outrage, Ron's heartbreak…
Merlin. And what will Mum and Dad say?
There was no helping it. He was, after all, a transmigrator—an adult mind dropped into a child's body, carrying ambitions far beyond a normal eleven-year-old.
Fortunately, the "starter pack" he'd received from the system had included Occlumency (MAX) from the very beginning.
Without that?
The Sorting Hat would have screamed.
The moment it brushed against an adult's thoughts—thoughts capable of fear, cynicism, or cruelty—that ancient relic would have burst into flames.
Children, no matter how mischievous, still held innocent worldviews.
Adults… did not.
Even the stray intrusive thoughts of grown men were sometimes dark enough to warrant a trip to Azkaban.
Vaughn shook off the grim reflection and stroked Guoguo Tea's fur.
Then, silently:
"System, claim reward."
A familiar shimmer rippled through the air.
Guoguo Tea's ears twitched—she sensed something—but seeing nothing wrong with Vaughn, she resumed chewing her fish happily.
A translucent panel appeared:
[Reward Claimed]
+1 Free Talent Point
+50 Magical Capacity
Vaughn summoned his full system display:
[Host: Vaughn Weasley]
Magical Capacity: 432 (Average adult wizard: 500)
Talents:
Charms – 7
Dark Arts – 6
Transfiguration – 7
Potions – 10
Herbology – 6
Divination – 2(Max: 10)
Spells:
Occlumency Lv5 (MAX), Protego Lv3, Expelliarmus Lv2, Levitation Charm Lv2,
Petrificus Totalus Lv2, Fire-Making Charm Lv2, Lumos Lv3, …
Potions Mastery:
Euphoria Elixir, Invigoration Draught, Blood-Replenishing Potion,
Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, Hair-Growth Solution,
Beautifying Potion (Master level, multiple formulae)
Reputation Points: 17
Free Talent Points: 1
[New Quest Available — Pending Review]
Two months had passed since Vaughn received his Hogwarts letter.
In that time, his magical capacity had increased by 62 points—
50 from the reward, and 12 from natural monthly growth.
He had long suspected the numbers in parentheses represented the system's standardised metric, and he'd been tracking patterns for years—mostly by observing his brothers.
Every young wizard awakened magic differently, so there was no fixed formula. But Vaughn was certain of one thing:
The higher one's innate talent, the faster natural magic grew.
Charms, Transfiguration, and Dark Arts seemed to correlate most strongly with magical development. Herbology and Divination contributed far less.
Physical growth cycles might play a part too.
Magic was complicated—practically alive—and no single theory ever explained everything.
But there was one universal truth:
Self-improvement was never wasted.
Vaughn checked his reserves carefully, ensuring he could still control the expanded pool.
Satisfied, he focused on his talents.
"Charms: 7. That's high already—likely Hermione's level. It's enough to keep improving steadily."
"Dark Arts… low, but I won't be touching anything dangerous yet."
The Dark Arts were problematic for more reasons than legality.
They required emotion—raw, primal, destructive emotion.
Avada Kedavra demanded real murderous intent.
Cruciatus required cruelty and hatred.
Dark magic didn't make wizards mad—their emotions did.
Vaughn rubbed his chin.
If I ever want to study Dark Magic safely… I'll need a mentor.
Dumbledore was a Dark Arts prodigy once, but he would never teach a student.
But Snape…
Severus Snape, Slytherin's Head of House, was both a Potions Master and a highly skilled Dark Arts practitioner. He'd even invented Sectumsempra as a teenager.
Winning Snape's favour would unlock two powerful paths.
But that was a matter for later.
"Dark Arts talent—skip. Herbology? No. Divination… absolutely not."
"That leaves only—Transfiguration."
Transfiguration was the most complex field in magic.
It touched Charms, Potions, and even the Dark Arts.
From objects, to living creatures, to human transfiguration—it encompassed everything.
And unlike most disciplines, it had non-verbal potential from the start.
No hesitation.
Vaughn invested the talent point.
A subtle shift coursed through him—not explosive, but profound.
He drew his wand, tapped the dried fish in his hand—
—and magic flowed effortlessly.
Not chaotic.
Not blurry.
But precise.
He could suddenly feel the fish's structure, every nuance of material and essence, as though his mind had become a magnifying instrument guiding his intent.
With a small twist of thought—
Pop!
The dried fish became a lively mouse, twitching energetically.
Guoguo Tea's eyes widened.
She pounced.
According to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, a transformed object never changed its fundamental substance.
Meaning…
Guoguo Tea had just eaten a mouse that tasted like dried fish.
"Mrrrow~"
Her eyes gleamed with bliss.
Double the happiness.
(End of Chapter )