Empathic capacity of a teaspoon (HP Self-insert

A few days after my birth. Well I thought it was a few days at least, something strange happened. I had noticed that someone unusual was holding me. My whole family was red-haired, something even my infant eyes could discern.

These eyes I just mentioned ripped open immediately once this person picked me up. They opened so fast I probably scared them since they startled and I was jostled a bit.

The person, no I was fairly certain it was a woman, holding me was monochrome and radiated the most intense feeling of unconditional love I have ever witnessed. No, I don't know how someone could radiate unconditional love and I didn't really care. I just basked in it.

I couldn't make out her face. Almost white skin and black hair, I pouted angry for not being able to see more clearly, hearing giggling I concentrated my eyes on her again, I strained my body and reached out a hand. She changed the way she held me, it was one armed now.

She let my small fist curl around her thumb, when we touched I felt the connection to my magic shiver and I just couldn't find a way to describe her touch, it was weird, but a good weird.

Then she laid me down in my crib and left.

-/-

Being free once more was like a dream come true, sure I didn't really have much control of my body, I had to be breastfed, I couldn't communicate and I was certain my parents were red haired which meant I would be as well.

BUT I breathed fresh air, I had a comfortable crib, a lot of siblings who hugged me. Basically, I simply revelled in my immortality I imagined it was like being a dreamer.

You grow up, making something your passion. You work hard on a masterpiece. Failure upon failure heaped upon you. Then you succeeded

I was that masterpiece, and at the same time, I was the creator. Never in the habit of boasting, I still couldn't help but describing with the word glorious.

If only others could pay witness to my greatness, take note of my brilliance!

If only.

I couldn't help but laugh, I imagined it as a loud and booming sound, but it was probably an adorable giggle. My mother came to change my diapers.

'Note to self, don't laugh so hard, accidents may happen'.

I only saw my mother as a brown blob with practically neon red hair, my eyes were to underdeveloped to truly see. She said something, my ears were too underdeveloped to truly hear but I knew one of the words she said was my name it was the thing most often said in my presence.

'Ronald' my new name it could have been worse, but in my personal opinion names didn't really matter. If you were a respected and powerful person the people saying it would use a different tone then if you were a bumbling fool. The tone that was the important thing.

-/-

I had heard that babies were good at feeling moods, I couldn't attest to that since I had had that particular talent in my last life as well. Sometimes the atmosphere was really gloomy and I heard mother crying.

My childhood, babyhood? wasn't filled only with happiness and hugs. Sometimes I would hear devastatingly loud booms when was taken outside on the occasional outing. A moment later after being squeezed through a tube I would be home again and my mother would be gripping me tighter than ever.

Yes my parents could do magic.

Then my parents would converse in hushed whispers, some of my older siblings sometimes butting in with their adorable voices. From these conversations, I found out that my father was named Arthur, we were at war and I was Ron Weasley.

I cared little, living my life to the fullest had always been my goal, being in a fictional book (apparently) changed nothing. Sure I'd check if I could apply my knowledge of the harry potter series. But honestly, who cared.

The most important thing to happen though was Magic, yes it deserved to be capitalised. Trying to draw on it was futile it was like catching water with a sieve but, every time I tried, no, every other week I would be able to close one more hole in my metaphorical sieve.

But no, I didn't actually have magic what I had was a tendril connecting my body to something from which I could theoretically draw it.

It was passively used to bolster my body, it was the reason for my higher vitality. This I knew because I had gained traits. My status had also been updated.

Status

Skills

Traits

Option

Trait: Magical

Increases your vitality and regeneration by one increment (for example G becomes G+)

Gives you a connection to magic and allows you to use it

Ron Weasley

Since I identified myself as Ron and not Ronald it looked like that.

Str: G

Agi:G

Vit: G+

Reg: F-

Magic: G

Magic reg:G-

Another thing I had gained was a title. I only had one, but I was still pretty proud of myself, the stats had increased after my birth I would have to check if they increased by training as well.

Ron Weasley

The Immortal

Title grants one increment towards reg

I was tempted to make my first words be avada kedavra or Slytherin but that would have shown people immediately that something was wrong, so on the day I reached 8 months I shouted "FOOD",

I had of course done so when at the breakfast table, when the entire family was there. Mum started freaking out about me saying my first word and how happy she was.

My dad looked like he was trying not to laugh. Bill and Charlie were both laughing, Percy had a weird expression on his face and the twins were giggling. After that, we had held a small party that was later interrupted by the news of my Uncles death.

Awkward.

-/-

Mum was pregnant again, I wondered if it would be Ginny. Recently having started to walk, I was still confined to the second floor. There were wards in front of the stairs. I liked them, they glowed blue when you touched them. I played with them often and my parents would always freak out when they found me doing that.

What they didn't know was that I was trying to learn to sense magic, trying being the keyword.

I also gradually started to improve my vocabulary I was almost one year old, I imagined I wouldn't allow myself to speak in full sentences until I was at least three.

It was kind of frustrating having to restrict myself, but I knew it was necessary. I saw the looks dad and Bill were giving me, they probably thought I was a genius already, no need to make it worse.

I would later find out that they were considering the possibility of me being sightly, slow in the head due to the fact I had underestimated how quickly children developed.

It was almost expected that I would finally manage to draw in my magic on the morning of my first birthday I felt it coursing through my body a tiny amount flickering almost disappearing at some points but it was there.

I tried guiding it to my fingertips and making a small flame, I failed, of course, I couldn't even manage to move it to the finger, it slowly went that way, erratically at that and then it dissipated

I didn't care, it was progress.