Host: Hall Weasley
Bloodline: Wizard Bloodline (Normal)
Magic: LV1 (50/100)
Physique: 8/10
Comprehension: 0/10
Talents:
S-Rank Ability: Memory Palace (Upgradeable)
A-Rank Ability: Disguise Mage (Upgradeable)
C-Rank Ability: Spells (Patronus Charm)
Available Galleons: 1,323 Galleons, 9 Sickles, 18 Knuts
Under the covers that night, he made his decision.
Under the covers, Hall made his decision. "Activate Potion Making talent. Upgrade magic by 50 points."
He'd been saving Galleons for this. Potions was one of the core subjects — alchemy applied to practical use. And if there was one thing that interested him, it was immortality.
Nicolas Flamel. Six hundred years old. Possibly seven. Hall had read enough to know the Philosopher's Stone was real, that Flamel had created it, that it could extend life indefinitely.
The raw materials didn't matter much. The Stone would be destroyed soon enough — better to have experimented with it first, learned what he could.
[Ding]
[Congratulations, Host. Magic Power has increased to Level 2.]
[Congratulations, Host. Comprehension has increased.]
[Congratulations, Host. Bloodline has upgraded.]
[Panel Update]
Host: Hall Weasley
Bloodline: Wizard Bloodline (Slight Talent)
Magic Power: LV2 (0/200)
Comprehension: 1/10
C-Rank Abilities: Spells (Patronus Charm), Potion Making
Available Galleons: 723 Galleons, 9 Sickles, 18 Knuts
He studied the numbers on his panel.
Hall studied the numbers. Three hundred Galleons away from his next tier. Still a long way to go.
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He checked his Comprehension stat. It had increased — actually increased — by purchasing a talent. Before, when he'd tried to use pure Galleons to boost Comprehension, the system hadn't responded. But paired with a new skill purchase, the stat had ticked upward.
So Comprehension scales with actual magical learning, not just currency.
He could already feel it — a subtle sharpening in how he understood magical theory, the way spells fit together.
Tomorrow's Transfiguration class would be a good test.
For now, though?
Sleep.
He set his intention for seven in the morning and closed his eyes.
Morning came sooner than expected.
At 7:50 AM, Hall dragged himself out of bed. His roommate Blaise Zabini was already in front of the mirror, putting the finishing touches on his appearance with the kind of care usually reserved for formal galas.
Nine minutes to wash, shower, and dress.
Eight o'clock exactly.
Hall stepped into the common room right on schedule.
The first-year students glanced up at him, then went back to their conversations — though their eyes kept drifting back in his direction. These were purebloods, most of them, who'd known each other since childhood through family connections. Henry William was the only real outsider in their group.
Hall surveyed the group, noting the expense of their robes, the precision of their grooming.
Proper little aristocrats, the lot of them.
The second-year prefects arrived to lead the first-years through the castle. They walked the maze of Hogwarts corridors, memorising key routes, then made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast.
English breakfast. Eggs, ham, toast, black pudding. Hall selected a sandwich without much enthusiasm.
Ten years without proper food, and I still can't find decent congee in this place. He glanced toward the kitchen corridor. House-elves can probably make anything. I should ask them once I figure out how to reach the kitchens.
"Henry."
"Henry."
"Henry."
"Potter's calling you," Malfoy muttered impatiently from beside him.
Hall turned. Still wasn't used to the false name. But there was Harry, waving enthusiastically from the Gryffindor table, then actually jogging over to the Slytherin table despite the obvious tension between houses.
Harry was breathing hard. "Henry, here."
He thrust a small coin purse at Hall. It was warm from being held under Harry's robes.
Hall took it suspiciously, feeling the weight. "You said you were broke."
"Dumbledore lent me money." Harry looked embarrassed — owing money on the first day of school wasn't ideal. "Do I owe interest?"
"No. Call the purse itself the interest."
"Of course! And Henry — compared to everything you've done for me, this is nothing. Really." Harry's gratitude was genuine.
Hall hesitated for exactly two seconds — still a twinge of guilt over the markup — then accepted without another word. He tucked the purse away.
Unexpected bonus: both purses were storage items, enchanted to hold more than they should. Small from the outside, cavernous within.
Dumbledore's being generous.
"Henry William, we're leaving for class," Zabini called, gesturing toward the departing first-years.
Hall nodded and caught up with the group.
By the time they were walking through the corridors, Zabini had caught Hall's arm. "Why's Potter so polite to you?"
Malfoy tried to head him off, but Zabini was determined.
Hall shrugged. "Payment. You know how it works."
Zabini's eyes went wide. Apparently, he'd never encountered anyone who'd managed to extract money from Harry Potter.
Malfoy, overhearing, seemed to be operating under some specific logic of his own. He pulled five Galleons from his own purse and handed them to Hall without breaking stride.
"Draco," Zabini said slowly, "why didn't you ask Potter to pay?"
Malfoy's eyes darted away. "What did Potter give you, anyway?"
"This." Hall pulled out the storage coin purse and held it up.
The entire line of Slytherins somehow managed to eavesdrop without openly slowing down.
"You ripped him off too?" Malfoy's voice shot up with delight.
"It was a consensual transaction," Hall said mildly.
"Who cares about consent — well done!" Malfoy's reaction was pure triumph. He'd learned that Hall had successfully extracted payment from Harry Potter, the same Harry Potter who'd rejected Malfoy's offered friendship at the school gates weeks ago. The same boy who'd chosen to befriend a Weasley instead.
Malfoy's laughter was bright with vindication. He nearly tripped over his own feet.
Zabini caught his elbow. "Is this how your allowance disappears?"
Malfoy straightened abruptly, coughed, and quickened his pace. "Come on, Blaise. Henry. We'll be late."
Zabini blinked at the casual use of Hall's false name — a sign of actual friendship, not just transaction.
Interesting. Zabini's thoughts were visible on his face. So Malfoy's deliberately aligning with Henry to have someone in common with Potter — except on the winning end of the arrangement? That's actually clever.