A Hogwarts acceptance letter was important to every family.
For a Muggle family, it could completely change their fate, granting them entry into the wondrous magical world.
For a wizarding family, it dispelled their greatest fear—that their child might be a Squib.
As a result, the Weasley family spent the entire day celebrating.
Molly prepared a lavish spread of food.
At noon, the family set up a canopy in the garden near the pond and prepared to enjoy the breeze, the scenery, and the shimmering water with a picnic party.
Arthur even wanted to invite every neighbor nearby, but Molly’s raised feather duster quickly put an end to that idea.
She had always found the Lovegoods rather eccentric, while the Fawcetts weren’t close enough to warrant an invitation.
In the end, only the Diggory family was invited.
Amos Diggory, like Arthur Weasley, worked at the Ministry of Magic.
He was employed in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, so the two men could barely be considered colleagues.
But Arthur’s reason for inviting him had nothing to do with professional courtesy.
“That guy is unbearable!” “Every time we meet, he goes on and on about how amazing his son Cedric is.
The way he looks down on everyone else’s children is infuriating!” Arthur looked thoroughly indignant when he said it.
Thus, when Amos Diggory Apparated to the Burrow with his son, Arthur happily wrapped an arm around Vaughn and went out to greet them.
“Amos, welcome to the Burrow.
This is my son Vaughn.
I bet you’ve heard his name before.” Amos had a short brown beard and a ruddy face that made him look as though he’d had a few drinks.
While shaking Arthur’s hand, he examined Vaughn.
Vaughn wore the kind of polite smile adults loved to see.
“Yes, yes, Arthur.
Your family’s potions prodigy.
Of course I’ve heard of him.
Today’s the day he received his Hogwarts letter, right?
What about Ron?” Arthur’s smile froze.
He hadn’t expected Amos to locate his weak spot with such precision.
Glancing around awkwardly, he replied, “Oh, Ron received one too…” Amos immediately raised his eyebrows.
“Then why didn’t you bring him over?
Honestly, Ron should spend more time with Cedric.
Our Cedric is obedient, excels in his studies, and Professor McGonagall praises his Transfiguration skills endlessly.
He’s also a Quidditch Seeker.
Perhaps he could help Ron make some improvements.” When it came to bragging about his son, Amos was clearly a seasoned veteran.
He knew exactly how to avoid his opponent’s strengths and target their sore spots.
The childish competition between adults almost made Vaughn laugh out loud.
Cedric Diggory, however, looked somewhat embarrassed.
He was remarkably handsome, though still carrying the awkwardness of youth.
Once the dazed Arthur was dragged away by Amos, Cedric stepped over to Vaughn and apologized.
“Sorry about my father.
He doesn’t mean any harm.
He just has a habit of exaggerating.” As if hearing his words from afar, Mr.
Diggory’s voice suddenly rang out.
“…Cedric is always humble and polite, the very image of a gentleman…” “…” Cedric’s expression stiffened.
Forced to change the subject, he extended his hand.
“My name is Cedric Diggory.
Mr.
Vaughn Weasley, it’s a pleasure to meet you.
I’ve read several of your papers on potions.
I have to say, some of the development concepts you proposed were truly astonishing.” Vaughn shook his hand and smiled.
“Thank you.
Just a few clever tricks, really.
There are still people in the Association of Extraordinary Potioneers who criticize me for taking the wrong path.” Wherever people gathered, disputes inevitably followed.
Over the past few years, Vaughn had earned quite a few Galleons from his Vaughn Beauty product line, naturally attracting the envy of other potioneers.
Not to mention his astonishing talent for potions.
At only eight years old, before even entering Hogwarts, he had already developed commercially viable potion products.
Such a thing had never happened before.
If those people had possessed any less pride—or if Vaughn hadn’t been a pure-blood—the formulas behind the Vaughn Beauty line would likely have been reverse-engineered long ago and fought over in the marketplace.
Of course, after publishing several papers on potion development, Vaughn had firmly established himself.
The Vaughn Beauty brand had become famous, leaving his detractors with little more than newspaper arguments.
Vaughn’s composure left Cedric feeling somewhat envious.
Cedric was ambitious and deeply respected people with genuine talent.
Thus, despite Vaughn not yet attending Hogwarts, he approached him with great humility and began asking several questions regarding potion-based transformation.
“…I’ve never experimented with Polyjuice Potion.
You know, formulas for advanced potions like that aren’t available anywhere.
I’ve heard the Scarpin’s Revelaspell can analyze a potion’s ingredients and proportions, but the Ministry strictly restricts its circulation.” “That’s why I’m looking forward to attending Hogwarts.
Its library and professors can teach things impossible to learn through self-study.
But back to your question.
While I haven’t brewed Polyjuice Potion myself, its primary ingredients are well known.
I’d suggest conducting some low-risk experiments using one of its key components—powdered bicorn horn.” By lunchtime, Cedric had completely transformed into Vaughn’s devoted admirer.
He even ignored Mr.
Diggory and deliberately sat beside Vaughn so he could ask more questions.
After listening carefully, he pondered for a moment before asking, “Are you saying that the transformative properties of Polyjuice Potion mainly come from the bicorn?” “No.
The transformation primarily relies on the properties of lacewing flies.
The bicorn simply provides additional possibilities.
Just look at the creature itself—it resembles a leopard, a bull, and a human all at once.
It’s the key ingredient that allows Polyjuice Potion to transform you into another person.
It can even change your gender.
That’s already approaching alterations to the fundamental nature of the human body.
I believe its potential remains largely unexplored.” Vaughn spoke enthusiastically.
No one in his family possessed any particular talent for potions, so he rarely had anyone with whom he could discuss the subject.
Although Cedric’s questions focused mainly on transformational applications of potions, Vaughn was still delighted to have someone to exchange ideas with.
While the two chatted animatedly, Ron was suffering through a nightmare on the other side of the table.
Even though he had intentionally hidden upstairs until mealtime, Amos still caught him.
As a result, he was forced to sit beside his father and endure an endless barrage of praise for Cedric, accompanied by countless subtle and not-so-subtle comparisons that painted Ron in an unfavorable light.
In desperation, Ron eventually brought up Vaughn.
“Cedric’s asking Vaughn about potions.
I think I’d like to listen,” Ron said.
Mr.
Diggory immediately released him.
Yet somehow that only made Ron feel worse.
It seemed his brother’s shadow was everywhere.
Especially when lunchtime arrived and Molly proudly brought out the hot pot.
After several years of enduring British cuisine, which Vaughn thoroughly despised, he had used Arthur’s access to Muggle magazines as an excuse to “reconstruct” the Chinese dish.
The moment the hot pot was placed on the table, Arthur—who had looked completely defeated all morning—instantly sprang back to life.
Then he began enthusiastically boasting to Amos about Vaughn’s culinary invention.
Ron felt utterly drained.