Chapter 30 — The Roots of Knowledge
The Burrow was alive with the warm glow of late autumn. Golden sunlight slanted through the windows, catching the dust motes in the air, while outside, leaves tumbled lazily across the yard. Inside, the kitchen smelled faintly of roasting vegetables and the lingering aroma of freshly baked bread. Ginny sat cross-legged at the far end of the table, book in hand, utterly absorbed. She wasn't just reading—she was living the stories of Harry Potter as if she herself were part of them. She imagined Harry leaping through corridors, casting spells, narrowly escaping danger, and quietly solving mysteries, all with the calm bravery she secretly wished she could summon. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her eyes sparkled as she turned each page, completely lost in her daydreams.
Ron, meanwhile, had received a letter from Professor Sprout, enclosed with a carefully compiled collection of recorded Herbology mistakes from past years, along with a list of reference books. The accompanying note encouraged him to begin work on an introductory guide for Herbology. Although Sprout had not yet replied to Ron's previous Herbology correspondence, her trust was evident, and the responsibility pressed on him like a quiet weight.
"Mr. Stark, you know what to do," Ron murmured. The eagle owl's golden eyes gleamed, and he took off toward Flourish and Blotts, carrying the list of recommended books. Hours later, Mr. Stark returned, the books carefully secured and paid for: three gold Galleons and thirty-seven Sickles neatly deducted from Ron's funds. Ginny peeked curiously over her book.
"That's a lot of money," she said.
Ron shrugged, gathering the books. "Knowledge isn't free, Ginny. But it's worth it."
The rest of October slipped by as Ron meticulously went through every recorded Herbology mistake. Each mismanaged plant, every crushed root, every wilting bloom was studied with careful attention. He noted patterns in plant behavior, the consequences of improper watering or magical miscasts, and the subtle signals plants gave when stressed.
"Did you know that mandrakes scream louder if you hum to them?" Ginny asked one afternoon, her eyes sparkling.
Ron smirked, not looking up from his notes. "Fascinating. Maybe that goes in the footnotes."
Molly hovered nearby, her hands clasped in worry and pride. "Ronald, don't overdo it. You're still nine, remember?"
"I know, Mum," Ron replied calmly. "But I need to understand everything. Every mistake counts."
Arthur chuckled from across the table. "At this rate, Ron, you'll have Hogwarts teachers rethinking the curriculum by the time you're my age."
By late November, after a full month of observation, Ron realized his beginner-tier Herbology knowledge, constrained by his current Potions level, was insufficient for the book he wanted to write. He decided it was time for a major leap using the System.
System Panel:
[HERBOLOGY LEVEL: Beginner]
Experience: 2 months
Status: Limited to Potion Knowledge
Ron sat cross-legged with his eyes closed, focusing on plant life. He visualized every plant he had studied, the mistakes recorded by Professor Sprout, and the magical interactions he had observed.
"All right… let's start. First 100 years. Focus on roots… on soil composition… on the smallest reactions to sunlight."
The first acceleration sent a mild headache through him, but as he persisted, understanding began to bloom. He felt roots expanding, leaves stretching, magical energy pulsing in time with the natural rhythm of the plants.
"Okay… that's it… I see the patterns now… watering isn't just about quantity—it's timing, frequency, magical alignment… yes… yes, I get it!"
System Panel:
[HERBOLOGY LEVEL: Intermediate]
Experience: 100 years
The next 300-year acceleration was more intense. Ron's mind raced through centuries of plant behavior, internalizing the consequences of misapplied spells, forgotten fertilizers, and mismatched magical herb pairings. He groaned as information flooded him.
"This is insane… the mandrakes… the Gillyweed… every single plant has its temperament… why didn't anyone teach me this like this before?!"
Despite the discomfort, "aha" moments struck frequently. He could predict plant reactions before they happened, noticing subtle changes in leaves or soil that indicated stress or growth spurts. He even discovered patterns in accidents recorded by Sprout—almost as if the plants themselves were teaching him through mistakes.
"So that's why the Devil's Snare wilts if it's sung to… and the Mimbulus mimbletonia only blooms when the surrounding humidity matches its magical resonance… Incredible."
Finally, the 600-year burst solidified everything in his mind. The interconnections of plants, soil, magical energy, and human error were fully visible. Every root system, every leaf vein, every blossom was mapped in his consciousness.
"I… I understand them. I really understand them. This… this is Herbology."
System Panel:
[HERBOLOGY LEVEL: Intermediate(Advanced)]
Experience: 1000 years
Status: limited by not having hands on Experience
Ginny watched, wide-eyed. "It's like you can talk to the plants now," she whispered.
Ron laughed softly, rubbing his temples. "Not exactly… but I can definitely tell when they're unhappy."
With the knowledge solidified, Ron began compiling his "Principles of Herbology: A Complete Guide for the Apprentice". The manuscript included examples of Sprout's recorded mistakes, detailed diagrams of plant structures, magical reactions, and warnings. Marginal notes offered encouragement, advice, and practical tips for beginners. Ginny peeked occasionally, whispering, "That phrasing reminds me of Harry saving everyone again!" and Ron chuckled, letting her small moments of fantasy linger.
After days of careful writing, editing, and adding illustrations, the manuscript was ready. Mr. Stark took flight once again, carrying the work to Professor Sprout at Hogwarts.
Back at the Burrow, the kitchen settled into a quiet anticipation. Ginny bounced slightly on her chair. "Do you think she liked it?"
Ron shook his head slightly. "She hasn't replied yet… but she will. I just… hope it helps."
Molly came over, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulders. "We're proud of you, Ronald. Every hour you've spent thinking, observing… it shows."
Arthur leaned forward, eyes twinkling. "You and your sister… extraordinary. I see it every day. You keep surprising us."
Ginny pressed her face to the window, imagining Professor Sprout opening the manuscript. "It's going to be amazing, Ron," she said softly.
Ron nodded, already thinking about the next project. But for now, the "Principles of Herbology"manuscript was complete, delivered into capable hands, and the seeds of knowledge—both literal and figurative—had been sown.
Outside, autumn light glinted off Mr. Stark's wings as he soared toward Hogwarts, carrying the weight of Ron's knowledge and dedication. And inside the Burrow, the Weasleys settled into the quiet magic of late autumn, aware they were witnessing the beginnings of something truly extraordinary.