Chapter 03: First Sparks of Curiosity
Ron sat cross-legged on his bed, staring at the faint shimmer of the system panel that had appeared whenever he thought of testing it. His fingers itched to activate it, to finally see what this strange inheritance of knowledge could do—but he paused. He needed to confirm the surroundings first. The Burrow, as familiar as it was, might hide surprises. And beyond it, the Muggle world of Ottery St. Catchpole awaited. He had to understand it before risking a misstep.
Glancing at the calendar nailed to the wall, he noted it was still June, 1989. The twins had almost two months before they left for their first year at Hogwarts, Percy continued his self-important parade, Ginny was small and engrossed in her books, and Charlie's dragon work kept him away much of the time. Bill had already left for Egypt, working as a curse-breaker for Gringotts. The house felt quieter, smaller even, in his contemplative mind.
Ron's gaze fell on the clutter that Arthur had left behind. Old radios with missing knobs, coils of wire, half-broken typewriters, shattered toasters, and other miscellaneous Muggle gadgets covered shelves and counters.
"This place is a junkyard," he muttered, brushing dust off a stripped-down battery pack. "How do you even live like this, Dad?"
Arthur peeked in from the doorway, beaming. "Living with Muggle things is an education, Ronniekins! Everything has potential!"
"Potential to explode, maybe," Ron muttered, rolling his eyes.
Behind shelves, tucked in corners, or stacked in the shed, he found faded magazines and yellowing manuals: dog-eared gardening guides, half-torn recipe books, outdated encyclopedias, and scattered newspapers. Some were Muggle, some wizarding—some printed for decades past, neglected and ignored.
He smirked. "So this is where Fred and George get half their ideas. Clever little misfits."
Fred leaned against the doorway, grinning. "Ideas? You mean genius inventions, Ronniekins."
George added, winking, "And maybe a bit of chaos. You'd be welcome to join the fun… if you're not too scared."
Ron narrowed his eyes. "I'm not scared. Just… cautious. Someone has to catalog the treasures first."
He knew he couldn't simply walk into the Muggle village for exploration. Percy would tattle, Ginny was too young, Charlie was distracted, and Molly would never allow it. That left the twins.
"Take me with you to the Muggle town," he said casually one evening while Fred was tinkering with a broken radio. "I might find something… useful for pranks."
Fred raised an eyebrow. "Useful? You mean like profitable?"
Ron grinned. "Both."
George chuckled. "Alright then, Ronniekins. You can come. But no tattling to Mum or Dad!"
The twins, blinded by curiosity and the lure of new mischief, became his guides into Ottery St. Catchpole's Muggle shops.
Every visit expanded Ron's understanding. He cataloged prices, materials, and techniques, observed the strange currency exchange, and noted every odd gadget he could imagine tinkering with. Britain in 1989—its sounds, its smells, its mechanical oddities—opened before him like a treasure map.
Back at the Burrow, Ron dragged down the old wizarding magazines stored in Molly's corner cupboard. He scanned them with a critical eye. Bright robes, ridiculous hats, and lace-trimmed costumes made him recoil.
"Honestly, who'd wear this?" he groaned.
Ginny, peeking over her book, giggled. "You might look good in lace, Ron."
"Ginny," he muttered, turning crimson, "I think we both know that would be… disastrous."
He redid his personal inventory:
--> Fashion Magazines: Wizarding and Muggle, carefully sorted.
--> Herbology pamphlets and gardening clippings.
--> Cooking spell magazines and old recipe books.
--> Damaged Muggle magazines and manuals, earmarked for experimentation.
His gaze fell upon one particularly battered fashion magazine. Torn, stained, almost unreadable. No one in the house would miss it. He reached out, fingers trembling slightly, and willed the system into action.
The faint shimmer in his vision intensified and formed glowing text before his eyes.
[PDC System – Processing Item]
Input: Damaged Vogue Magazine (Mugglr Magazine)
Date of Production: July 1984
Condition: Heavily degraded, torn pages, water stains
Status: Accepted
Time to Changing of Production Date: 00:03:42
Process Type: Restoration + Knowledge Extraction
Prompt:
What do you want the new date of production to be?
→ (Type here)
Confirm Changes: [Y/N]
Ron's lips curled into a grin. It's asking me to choose the date myself?
His heartbeat quickened. He wasn't just restoring; he was rewriting. The possibilities stretched before him like a wide-open horizon.
He typed the date carefully.
[New Production Date Selected: July 1989]
The confirmation flickered.
Confirm Changes: [Y]
Ron didn't hesitate. He pressed yes.
For the first time since waking up in this new life, he felt the door to everything swing wide open.