Ron didn't exactly wake up, the next day. After he'd practically fallen into bed, having equipped his sleep robes, The room faded out, and after a moment, light faded back in again.
Ron was, apparently, doing nothing in his bedroom. The clock chimed ten, and Ron felt himself able to move again.
Bloody hell. He thought. Going to be annoying, trying to get used to that.
Ron placed down his comic about the muggle guy (it'd been so long since he'd read one of those... ignoring his false memories) and stood. Ron pilfered his wardrobe again, and found the same things he'd found 'yesterday', except this time there was no money.
"Figures," Ron muttered. Not like we usually leave galleons lying around, after all.
Ron equipped the day robes and the sleep ones dropped to the ground. His 'borrowed' wand was jammed into the lining of his pocket; there was a hole in the seam.
Ron shrugged, and left the room. The hallway faded into existance, and a notice flickered in front of him.
Ron scowled at it.
Hey, player.
So, today's your second day! There will be no quests today, so I think it might be best for you to find some classes or jobs, practice your skills etc. You have twenty four hours - lucky that you don't need sleep, eh?
He huffed and waved aside the message, though at the same time took it's advice.
Ron decided to go upstairs; despite the ghoul in the attic, he hasn't gone up there in this life yet, and he has to admit curiosity.
Hesitating at the door, Ron called up the pause menu. Save. He thought, and a message in the top corner of his vision flashed; Game saved in [Slot 1].
Nodding, Ron closed the menu and opened the door.
The attic faded into existence, and an alert blocked his view.
Good find, player!
This is the dungeon of [The Burrow]. It being a small-ish instance and all, it has enough space for one, but no more - aside from the randomly generated ones in the wild area. You'll find those eventually, but you'll need practice first - and that's what this is for!
Practice Dungeon #1 has been unlocked. There are [?] of this type. Find them all!
Ron sighed. Of bloody course there was a dungeon in his Attic.
Deciding he might as well make use of this, Ron equipped his wand in the right hand weapon slot, and checked his magic skill.
Abysmal, he decided. Wandless was actually better, though that might be from his use of non-accidental magic. Ron was hoping he wouldn't have to chance the underage magic thing, but decided having a 0 skill wasn't a good thing in the long run.
Readying his memories of how to do certain spells, Ron spied a rock (what it was doing in the attic, he has no clue) and cast an experimental wingardium, and it shakily floated. Damn, Ron really was out of practice.
Ron held his breath, but a few minutes passed and no letter came. Releasing a sigh of relief, Ron dropped the rock and started practicing.
(He needs at least a little skill - enough to be able to defend himself, at least, from the creatures and critters no doubt stored within the dungeon.)
Ron saw another large beetle, sighed, and stood on it.
Large beetle killed!
No loot gained!
Ron rolled his eyes. He'd hoped that there would be something other than bugs in the Attic, but this dungeon seemed to be incredibly easy.
Far too easy, he thought, as he turned a corner. Ron paled.
A medium sized acromantula was in the hallway. Ron immediately crouched, and sighed in relief to see himself in the green and out of the spider's sight range. Creeping back around the corner, he leant against the end of the wall.
Entered cover! + 60% bonus to defence based upon cover type, height, and body coverage.
Ron blinked, shrugged, and mentally added this to his list of game mechanics.
Leaning his head around the corner, Ron breathed.
Come on, Weasley. You've fought worse than this.
Slowly exhaling, Ron lifted his wand, and hesitated. What spell to use? He thought, because he remembers vaguely that Acromantulas are more resistant to magic than most. And the spell Harry used in the forest... Arania Exumai, Ron thinks, only launches them backwards.
Ron grimaces at Charlie's wand. His current wand magic skills are far to low; general wand-based magic is still at zero, and so is his defence based magic. Ron hesitated.
Thnking, Here goes nothing, he raised his wand and muttered, "diffindo", trying his best to power the spell as much as the unmatched wand would allow.
A powerful bolt flew out of his wand and sliced the head of the Acromantula.
Medium Acromantula killed!
No loot gained; no vials to retrieve venom, no known spells to extract carefully. Could have used diffindo on the venom sacks, but would have lost 25% and had a 40% chance to get it on you.
Ron shrugged. S'not like I didn't think I'd need new spells, he thought in response.
Ron stood, and moved out from the wall's end. He walked down the hall, grimacing, and stepped over the corpse.
Mentally shivering, Ron walked a short ways further and saved the game.
Saved in [Slot 1].
It took a little while for Ron to find anything else. One wall was glowing slightly, and examining it, lead ron to noticing a strange... magical link, he would say, to a wall sconce nearby.
Ron pulled the sconce and the wall moved, back into itself and off to the left.
Discovered secret passage! As [Ron Weasley], you can find secret passages easier than most! Since you, as [Ron Weasley], need all the help you can get at being a decent player character.
Ron glowered at the alert and viciously thought it gone.
The passage was a small-ish room, with a small chest in the centre. Ron cautiously went over to it, and activated his loot vision. It wasn't purple, surprisingly, so Ron figured that meant there weren't any curses or what have you that might kill him should he try to open it.
Ron went to do just that, and gained a few things.
Small loot chest opened!
Luck roll... passed! Large bonus granted!
15 galleons found!
A pair of walking boots, scuffed and second-hand, but the right size, found!
No more loot in the chest.
Ron blinked, and looked down. The boots and gold were on the floor. Ron grabbed the galleons, and pocketed them - it seemed containers could hold an unlimited amount of one thing, but a limited amount of multiple. So, you could have, say, 100,000G, and keep adding, but if the container had only two slots you could only put one other type of object in there - say a wand.
Ron then grabbed the boots and equipped them - the game was right, they did fit, and they were quite obviously second hand, but at least these let him sprint - he figured that would be highly necessary.
Musing at his newfound 'ability', Ron left the room. "Main menu," He called up - as he was alone - and checked the time. Blinking at the lost hours, Ron saw he had shaved off half his time limit. Deciding to explore more at a later date, Ron figured he would wander around the area he's already explored to find more 'enemies', and practice a bit on them for a while.
Six game hours later Ron was found to have another two levels in general wand skill, and one in offensive magic. Ron had found the categories a little strange; there was the usual defensive, but there was also offensive rather than curses and dark magic, there was transmutation instead of transfiguration and some charms fell under it, like colour changing charms. There was illusion, which were glamours and the like - so mostly what he considered charms, and a few others which, as far as Ron could see, were blocked until he unlocked them.
Ron decided it didn't rightly matter, and after closing his character sheet, left the attic.
Ron wandered the house, uncertain as to what he was going to do with his last six hours. Probably should've just stayed in the Dungeon. He thought ruefully, but he'd decided upon not doing that, and he'd stick with that choice.
Something that bothered Ron was how his family acted, as 'game characters'. His mum never seemed to leave the kitchen, his dad was always in the Garage when not at work during the day, the twins were in their room for three hours, then elsewhere for an hour, then gone again - and Ginny was, during the day, nowhere to be seen, as far as Ron had looked -but was always at the broom shed at night.
He knew all this by asking his mum. Apparently, she was there as a tutorial guide - not just as his mum.
Ron was picking at his food (whenever he entered the kitchen, Molly placed food on the table and Ron wasn't exactly one to refuse her - since, well, he'd gone and died on her in his previous life, Ron felt like she deserved all the time with her son that she wished for) while thinking on all of this.
There's surprisingly little to do when people don't act like people. Ron thought, frowning as his mum returned to waving her wand in a complicated pattern over the stew. She's done that five times already.
Ron sighed and went back to his food. He wasn't hungry, exactly - in fact, Ron hadn't been hungry at all since returning to 'life' - and Merlin was that the weirdest thing he's ever experienced. Aside from mind-altering Horcruxes and all the shit that happened in his previous life - not needing to eat, at all, ever, just...
Well, it takes him out of 'it.' Of the pit he sometimes falls into every now and again - a few minutes with Ginny, when she seems like herself and its a normal, good conversation but Ron says something and she stops responding for a good minute as the 'game' updates her on what he's talking about. Stuff like that, and not needing to eat, really make him stop and think and know, know that his life is a game, and he's the only sentient one around.
For now, Ron hopes. He hopes that's only temporary, only for the tutorial. He thinks he might - will, will go crazy if it isn't.
If he sees Harry stop, mid conversation, for a good while because he hasn't a clue what people are talking about. Just stops breathing and stops blinking and stops, completely and utterly. Hermione, reading a book, but only going down a page with her eyes, turning it over, but having the next page be the same one, a loop of infinite pages of the same text and same content.
Ron knows he'd go mad if that were to happen one, one time only. So he eats, picks at his food and watches his mum 'cook' food, over and over and never stop.
"Would you like some pumpkin juice, Ron?" She offered, and he nodded and a cup floated over to the table, the jug levitated out of the fridge and poured a healthy amount of the only drink they had aside from butterbeer and the firewhiskey he'd spied in the top leftmost cupboard, despite the fact that in his previous life they had other drinks like water and milk and all types of juices - since they grow their own foods, that's how they can afford things; their mother tends the garden and sells the food down in the muggle's market, they buy all foodstuffs from the muggle shops for the winter; Mum gets given things from time to time for knitted clothes that keep their kids warm.
(Ottery is one of those muggle villages. One that's surrounded by magicals, wizards and witches like the Weasleys and the Lovegoods. They turn a blind eye more than most would, and don't question how their kids can only need a jumper in midwinter. It's been like this since the village was founded, and it will be like this when it's no longer a village.)
Ron knows if their mum didn't do this, they wouldn't be able to afford much food. And gemino didn't work on food; look at Gamp's laws on transfiguration, gemino counts - and preservation charms only last so long. He's just glad that his mum's dress sense isn't questioned much; robes aren't exactly commonplace in the muggle world. Harry said they didn't have any at all - Ron's just glad wizards adopted trousers from the muggles within the last century. Not all use them, but he's glad most do.
Aside from that one guy at the quidditch cup. Ron sniggered at the memory, and his mum didn't comment, which put his mood right down.
Sighing, Ron abandoned his plate. He'd been experimenting with what food and drink did do, if not fill up his hunger, and he'd found they made his health bar show up and glow, and his energy; stamina bar show up and glow, respectively. He figured that meant foods healed him, and drinks reinvigorated him, which seemed like it'd be useful. Glancing at his mother, Ron grabbed some food and drink from the fridge. He didn't have anywhere to put it, not really, so he decided it was time to go visit his dad.
"I'm going out to the quidditch pitch." Ron lied, since he knew his mum would disapprove of his, well, plan.
"Alright dear." She said, smiling. "While you're out, could you see where the twins are for me? I need them to de-gnome the garden... the little critters are chewing up the cabbages and stealing our potatoes. Not to mention what they do to the poor blackberries..." She complained, muttering. Coughing slightly (and, blimey, was he ever going to get over the irrational twitch in his eye whenever people do that?) she glanced at him for affirmation. "Yeah, sure mum." Ron agreed easily. "I'll go do that first."
His mum smiled. "That's a dear, Ronnie. Run along now - and here, take these sandwiches for them." She held out a distracted hand, holding some sandwiches she'd apparently made in the time it took him to get to the doorway.
Giving a strained smile she didn't register as such, Ron grabbed the sandwiches after shuffling the other food into the grip of his right arm.
Quest accepted! Added to journal; Chores and S'mores.
Find the twins and hand over the food. It's not S'mores, I've no clue why that's in the name of this quest. After doing so (or before... bribery is an option) convince the two to de-gnome the garden. Bonus points if you don't get roped into it, and even more if you get them to go after Percy instead!
Rewards: Depending on how it's done, there may be increased RP with the twins.
Failure: You have to help the twins and, if done completely incorrectly, with Percy. Also a chance at lowering the RP you have with Percy and the twins. Good luck, mate.
Ron sighed. Bloody hell.
Ron went out the door, and his vision bled white.
After the world finished forming around him and colour had bled back into view, Ron set off for the Quidditch clearing they'd made a little ways from the house. It wasn't in the wild area, thank Merlin, but it was close enough that Ron pondered going in there 'tomorrow' and having a look around, see if there was anything new to find there.
Upon arrival, Ron saw the twins practising their beating; one throwing the other the quaffle and the other trying to hit the other with it by swinging their bat at it.
"Oi!" Ron called out, and one of them (George, Ron dubs) catches the quaffle as Fred goes to land. "Little brother!" He called out, grinning. "What have you come to ask of us Ronnie?" He wondered, teasing slightly.
Ron sighed, but let it go. It was preferred to 'Ickle Ronniekins' at any rate.
"Mum wants you two to de-gnome the garden," Ron states bluntly. "There's food in it if you want." He says, conceding to use the 'advice' the journal alert had given him.
George landed, raising an eyebrow at Fred. "Is our brother dearest bribing us, Forge?" He pondered, a gleam in his eyes.
"It seems so, Gred." Fred agreed, considering Ron. "What if we've eaten?"
Ron was unimpressed. "I know you haven't; I've been in the kitchen since morning, you at least missed lunch."
"He has us there Forge." George admitted. "But what if we'd rather grab some food later, regardless, and just say we did what was expected?" He offered, that gleam still there.
"Or," Fred mused, "How about we just ask you rather kindly to do it instead?"
Ron mentally paused for a moment, then - "How about Percy?" He asked. "He hasn't done any chores in ages; in fact, I'm pretty sure he hasn't left his room once."
George's eye gleam grew, shall we say, a little more mischievous. "Brother here is right, Gred." He addressed Fred, switching up monikers. "That can't be healthy for our dear older brother; he'll already loose all sense of self at the ministry when he graduates, the least we can do is make sure he gets the chance to." He grins, and Fred considers it.
"Food, and you have a deal, little brother." Fred says, and Ron chucks up the sandwiches. "Ooh, bacon." George mutters happily. "Really shouldn't have missed lunch," Fred mutters as the two take back to the air to fly back and put away their brooms. The conversation continues, but the two move out of earshot and frankly Ron doesn't much care about that.
Quest complete! Rewards granted; Increased RP with [George Weasley]
Ron raised an eyebrow at that, but dismissed it. It's not like they're the same person literally, so certain actions would improve relationship with one and not the other, he knows that - it's just a little odd that up until now, the game hasn't acknowledged this.
Shrugging, Ron started walking back to the house.
Doesn't matter now anyway. Got to get some storage space for this food.
As the garage bled back into existence, with the occasional visual glitch, Ron moved over to his dad.
"Uh, hello." He says, and again, his dad looks up - this time, putting the screwdriver down on the computer monitor and leaving his wand where it was on the table. So that was a little different, Ron noted.
"What can I do for you son?" He asked jovially, and Ron shrugged, scuffed his shoe on the floor. "I was wondering if you could expand my pocket?" He asked.
"Is this so you can hide charlie's old wand, or the food you've got there?" He asked grinning, but held up his hand as Ron went to ask how he knew about the wand thing. "Ah - I don't need to know." The expression stayed on his face. "The twins helping you properly?"
Ron shrugged and nodded, and his dad looked pleased. "Good to hear. Have you been helping Ginny, or at least not letting her be alone and possibly fall without anyone there to get help?"
Ron was a little flabbergasted, to be honest. He was pretty sure his dad had had no idea in his last life about Ginny's late night flying, so he'd been pretty certain he wouldn't know about much of anything this time either.
Time to forget what I think I know, Ron thought, perhaps a little gloomy about that. People will be different, I should expect that.
"Uh, sometimes." Ron admitted - remembering the one practice he'd had with her, and having flashbacks of a life not lived, where he and Ginny would sneak out at night when 'too young' to fly themselves. His dad nodded approvingly, and Ron felt the slightest pride at that, despite knowing that for all intents and purposes, this wasn't really his Dad - wasn't really Arthur Weasley.
"Well." His dad moved on. "I know you're responsible enough, so I'll do this and add in a preservation spell. Now, listen closely - you won't be able to do this for a while," He warned, "but it's always good to have the know-how regardless of your ability to use it. This is a seemingly simple yet complicated bit of charms work, expanding space - you can't just wave your wand and have a permanently large bag, you have to do a few spells. I like to think of it - what I do in here-" Mr. Weasley waved a hand around the room, and Ron looked as his dad gestured="Enchanting, in a way. I don't generally use runes unless necessary... and you're far to inexperienced to understand that anyway."
Ron conceded that, then listened and watched as his dad made complicated wand movements over Ron's pocket, and enunciated clearly the spells required. A few minutes later, Ron knew spells he couldn't cast, and had a permanently large pocket which would preserve the contents - and a wink meant he knew that included spelled objects placed inside; those spells would have an extended life so long as they were in the pocket.
"There are some other charms you can cast... I think it would be best to make the pocket detachable, so you can put it on other robes like, for example, your future Hogwarts ones," His dad explained. "Since this sort of thing is inherently incredibly useful. I have one myself," He added, pointing to his sleeve and then opening a space by pulling a bit of string that was at the frayed end. "But we've run out of time and Molly is no doubt wondering where we are," He chortled. "So run along and tell your mother I'll be right there, it's fine to start dinner without me." Ron was surprised for a moment, but paused the game and saw that, yes, it was two hours before his timer ran out - and the game seemed intent on forcing a 'normal' day on Ron... sort of. So Ron, breathing to, somehow, calm himself, resumed the game and went out of the garage. The Burrow bled into existence around him - he was standing at the entry to the kitchen, the same one he and Fred and George and Harry had used to try and sneak back home after (basically kidnapping) rescuing Harry from the muggles.
Ron sighed mentally, prepared himself, and sat down. He should get used to this, he thinks, because this'll be how it is for a while, I reckon.
As Ron ate, he noticed with some suspicion that the 'animations' for eating were more relaxed and unique to the people around him. Percy was as systematic as he'd been in life; cutting up all food before eating, the twins were joking around and his mother was forcing the food to stay firmly on their plate and their forks and their spoons as they gestured to Ginny's amusement; his sister occasionally having to put down her cutlery and cover her mouth as she laughed. His father smiling happily throughout the meal at his family, and his mother's sharp-eyed look for any kind of food fight that might break out due to the twins' antics, right hand firmly on her wand and a charmed knife cutting up her food. She'd occasionally glance down, then take a few bites then glance up again in time to stop some mashed potato flying, and it would repeat. Percy, however, was still too clunky, and Fred and George were still repeating themselves every minute or so, and Ginny would put her knife and fork down in exactly the same way each time, always placing her left hand over her mouth and brushing her hair back from her face with her right.
Frowning, Ron ate, considering. He wondered if this was a side effect of the game - perhaps the tutorial was the game adapting to what he knew and remembered, Ron wondered. Maybe it would take a few days for them all to adjust, but maybe they would all end up as human as possible in their actions and personalities. Maybe, after a while, they wouldn't pause for a minute to catch up what they're supposed to know about - maybe, Ron thought, maybe...
Maybe they'll be themselves soon enough.
Ron took a bite of his steak, and smiled. Things were, perhaps, looking up.