The Junk Shop

At half-past 8, Ron finally headed downstairs for breakfast, seeing most of his siblings having long finished up their meals.

"Dear Merlin Ron, I think you've just set the record for world's longest poo." George teased.

"And here I thought I held the record. You might need to see a healer about that." Fred added.

Ron just scowled at the twins before devouring his way through breakfast. Now that he knew he could turn money into power, he couldn't afford to sit around.

After some preliminary calculations, he figured out it took 450 points, or 450 knuts, to raise a skill from White level 1 to Green level 1. There were 29 knuts to a sickle and 17 sickles to a galleon; 450 knuts was just short of a galleon, which was 493.

As such, it would take a galleon to go from White to Green, and each subsequent tier required ten times the points. That meant ten galleons from Green to Blue, then 100 galleons from Blue to whatever was above Blue.

But what was the concept of a hundred galleons? Ron felt that the entire Burrow might barely be worth a couple hundred galleons. And that was only to reach the level above Blue. What about the levels after that? 1000 galleons? 10,000?

He shook his head. A poor man like him shouldn't think about such lofty things. Just getting some Green-level magical skills would be a huge step up. With that in mind, he quickly cleaned his plate before rushing to Molly.

"Can we go now?" He asked with sparkling eyes.

"Now? It's awfully early…" Molly responded uncertainly.

Ron just flashed his puppy eyes, not caring how degrading it was. The earlier he went to Diagon Alley, the earlier he'd get his supplies and start learning magic. Finally, Molly gave in.

"Alright, we'll head out at 10. But first, you need to head up to the attic and look through Bill and Charlie's old things and see if there's anything you can use."

Ron nodded like a bobblehead, starting up the stairs like a bolt of red lightning.

"Wait, you haven't even got your list!"

Making it to the attic, he finally slowed down, pulling out two trunks carefully. He wanted to salvage as much as he could to save money. A sickle saved was a sickle earned, and a sickle earned was almost enough to instantly bring a skill to White level 3.

Going through the stuff one at a time, Ron felt that most of it was salvageable. Aside from a few pieces of Potions equipment and the DADA books which changed every year, he didn't need anything.

By the time he'd finished up, it was almost 10 and he needed to rush downstairs. The rest of his family were already lined up at the fireplace and Arthur was handing out Floo Powder. Seeing Ron, Molly quickly pulled out a worn-out old wand case and set it down on the living room table.

"Now, I know that a wand is meant to be special, but between what we've sent to Charlie, as well as Percy and Ginny's birthdays, money is a little tight now. So, we'll have you using Charlie's old wand for now. But next year, once we've saved up a little, we'll get you a new one."

Ron nodded obediently, even though he knew from canon that wasn't going to happen. Between Ginny's stuff and Lockhart's over-priced books, money would be even tighter next year. He'd be stuck with this wand until third year unless he bought one himself.

Opening the old wand box, Ron studied the wand. It was long and slightly bent, with a little tuft of unicorn hair shooting out the back. While Molly called it 'Charlie's wand' it had actually belonged to his late uncle Bilius before Charlie. Lifting out the wand gently, he felt a little tickle running up his arm. He couldn't wait to use it.

Taking the Floo was definitely a unique experience, as Ron experienced the sensations of being tickled, burned and sucked up into a tube, all at once. When he finally landed in Diagon Alley, he made sure to check that every part of him had made it through intact.

From there, they took a brisk walk to Gringotts, meeting the Weasley banker, an ancient Goblin name Wegrok. What followed was a joyous—albeit a little cramped— thrill ride through the caves of Gringotts, until they finally reached vault 77.

The Weasley vault was surprisingly large, nearly the size of a basketball court, but only had a pitiful three Galleons, a few dozen Sickles and a couple heaps of Knuts. This contrast surprised Ron.

"Dad? Why's our vault so big" Ron asked.

From the sides, Ginny, the twins and Percy also looked over curiously. Arthur looked into the vault with a melancholic sigh.

"There was a time, before I was born, that the Weasley's had wealth. Not as much as the Blacks or Malfoys, but our money was all dignified and legal." Arthur swelled proudly.

"Really?" Fred asked.

"Why haven't we seen any of this?" George asked.

"Well, it all starts with your grandad, my dad." Arthur explained. "He was a brilliant man, a Curse-Breaker, just like your big brother. But… he fell in love with a Black."

"Gran was a Black?" Ginny asked amazedly.

Arthur nodded sorrowfully. Their gran and grandad had both died in the Dragon Pox epidemic before Ron was born. Evidently, the loss still weighed heavily on him.

"Hang on, if Gran was a Black, shouldn't we be richer, not poorer?" Ron interjected.

"The Blacks wouldn't let her go easily. They demanded a sky-high dowry, one that would empty our vaults and then some, wanting to crush his spirit." Arthur explained. "But to their surprise, he accepted, saying there wasn't a price too high for love."

No price too high for love? What utter rubbish! What was the point of love if you were bankrupt? If your family and descendants starved? Ron felt his grandad was just a fool.

Still, one day, Ron would fill this vault and make up for his mistakes. With that, they left the vault, heading back to the Alley when Molly turned to them.

"Alright, Arthur, you and Ginny can head over to owl emporium and pick up Percy's owl. I'll head over to Madam Malkins with Percy and have him fitted for his new robes. As for Ron, go with the twins to try and see if you can pick up the books and your Potions Equipment at the second-hand shop." Molly quickly delegated. "We'll meet back here in an hour at 11 and be back for lunch."

Reaching into her coin purse, Molly seemed to do some quick mental calculations before pulling out twelve sickles. She looked to Fred and George, but seeing their eyes fixed on Gambol and Japes Joke shop, she decided to leave the money with Ron instead.

Ron felt the familiar indicator going off in his mind.

[Valid currency detected. Value: 348 points.]

He couldn't help but feel a pang of greed as he saw that number. With that much, he could easily upgrade any of his skills, even chess. However, Ron suppressed his desires. It wasn't for him… at least, not all of it.

Splitting off with his parents, Ron turned to Fred and George, planning to head to the store when he saw them ducking into Gambol and Japes. Unsurprisingly, they had no intention of helping him.

Heading over to the shop himself, Ron stopped to glance at several shops along the way, looking for money-making ideas. Unfortunately, even the most basic trades required magical skills he didn't have.

Even if he learned the entire first-year curriculum, it wouldn't be of any use. He needed O.W.L. level skills to make money, but without money, it would take ages until his skills reached O.W.L. level. It was a catch-22, and he needed some seed money to break out of it.

Arriving at the second-hand store frequented by the Weasleys, Ron saw that it was called the 'Junk Shop' a fitting description for the decrepit appearance. The old, wooden door creaked and shook as he opened it, and a sea of dust assaulted his nose.

"Achoo!"

Ron sneezed loudly, stirring up dust as he startled awake the shop keeper behind the counter. The old man was as trashy and dishevelled as the goods he sold, with a long grimy beard and even grimier robes. After muttering some obscenities that would have Molly washing his tongue until Tuesday, he went back to sleep without a care in the world.

Examining his wretched surroundings with disgust, Ron felt a growing sense of urgency to make some money. He didn't want to set foot in a shop like this ever again.

Touring the store, Ron tried to select for the least damaged Potions equipment he could find, searching every nook and cranny. His diligence paid off, as he found a set of scales that was only slightly dented and a cauldron with a small hole that could easily be patched.

However, as he saw that they were marked around two sickles each, Ron's expression darkened. What a rip-off! If he bought both, he might not have enough for books. However, most of the other equipment was almost unusable.

As he pondered, Ron accidently leaned up against the shelf, getting green mould all over his shoulder.

"Ugh! This place is a dump."

He quickly brushed it off, but some of it stuck to his hand. Wiping his hands off using the cauldron, he was about to put it back as he noticed the green stains his hands made. They looked just like brass rust. His eyes lit up.

Taking the cauldron and the scales up to the front, Ron violently brought them down on the counter, jolting the shopkeeper awake once more. The crotchety old man growled at him, before looking at his items.

"Three sickle and twenty knut." He grunted, outstretching a filthy hand.

"For that rusted old garbage? I'll give you one sickle and 20 knut!" Ron quipped back.

The man frowned, before retrieving a pair of grime-covered glasses. Putting them on, he glared at the cauldron and scales, scowling as he saw the thick rust.

"That ol' bastard Mundungus. 'e swore that it was almost new." He muttered under his breath, then, he looked up at Ron. "Three sickles flat then."

"Not a knut over two sickles." Ron rebutted.

"2 and 25?"

"2 and 10, then it's a deal."

"Fine." The old man growled, taking three sickles and returning nineteen knuts.

But Ron wasn't done yet. When the old man looked away, he started 'counting the change'.

"Oi! This is only ten knuts!" Ron complained.

"That's impossible!" The man snarled, but counting them, he found that Ron was right. "Empty yer pockets!"

"Are you accusing me of stealing?" Ron cried back.

"Accio knuts!" The old man responded, casting a summoning charm.

But all he could summon were the knuts still on the table. His expression darkened.

"Fine, here're yer 19 knuts." The old man said, counting them in front of Ron this time.

"Not enough! I need a sickle for emotional compensation!"

"I'll put my boot up yer arse fer emotional compensation!"

"Then I'll tell my father. He works in the ministry you know…"

"Why you little…"

Five minutes later, Ron walked out of the store with a smile on his face. While he didn't get a sickle, he'd conned the old man into giving him a few badly damaged bits of school supplies and a few knuts.

He'd then gone to get the books, but there wasn't much haggling to be done there. Getting them all for eight sickles, Ron ended up with two spare sickles and some knuts. If Molly didn't ask for the change, they were going straight to the panel.

But on top of making a profit, he'd done something more important. He'd come up with a good business idea. Repairing and reselling damaged school supplies.

It was the perfect trick for Hogwarts students. While most people knew the mending charm, few people trained it to a high level. After all, from what he knew, it was rarely tested on O.W.L.s and almost never tested on N.E.W.T.s. Most adults probably only had at most Green-level mending charms.

Based on the amounts the old man was charging, if Ron could learn the mending charm to a high enough level, he could turn a quick profit. He already needed to learn it to maintain all his hand-me-downs, so why not fully invest in it?

However, that didn't fix his problem of seed money. Two sickles were barely enough for mid White level, let alone the Green level he needed to actually repair things well. With that in mind, Ron decided to go to his predecessor's favourite place in Diagon Alley. The games shop.

But he had more than games in mind. It was time for money!