Chapter 67 — The Weave of Knowledge and Time
September sunlight spilled through the enchanted windows of Hogwarts, spilling warmth and amber light over the castle's ancient stones. The start of the 1990–1991 academic year had brought both excitement and quiet unease. Whispers filled corridors and common rooms alike: the textbooks. Three of them, all bearing the same name, Ronald Bilius Weasley, a ten-year-old who had not yet crossed the threshold of Hogwarts as a student. The first-years stared at their copies with a mix of awe and disbelief, the older students muttered incredulously, and even the faculty could not hide the faint stirrings of curiosity. Charlie, in his seventh year, Percy, now a fourth year, and the twins, second years, had all arrived early to settle in, their own familiarity with the castle making the presence of a child author all the more astonishing.
The Dungeon — Snape's Domain
Severus Snape's shadow stretched over the rows of cauldrons, robes sweeping silently across the stone floor. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, scanned the first batch of new students. Their eagerness irked him, though now tinged with cautious respect. The open pages of Principles of Potion-Brewing lay before him, ink crisp, instructions meticulous. He noted the marginal annotations and warnings. Even he could not deny the methodical clarity with which the ten-year-old had written.
"This," Snape intoned, voice low and deliberate, "is your textbook. Unlike previous editions, which required me to fill in gaps and correct missteps, this has been written with precision. Follow it exactly, and you may achieve some modicum of competence. Deviate, and…" He let the threat hang, unspoken, heavy as a cauldron lid.
A first-year raised a timid hand. "Sir… is he your student?"
Snape's eyes darkened. "Not yet," he said simply, turning to inspect a simmering potion. The words held more than dismissal—they hinted at an awareness that would linger in the students' minds far beyond this first lesson.
The Greenhouses — Sprout's Observations
Professor Sprout's greenhouse buzzed with life. Soil, mud, and the scent of growing things mingled with the crisp pages of Principles of Herbology. Her students' hands were covered in earth, eyes bright, and wands poised for magical application. The diagrams, charts, and cross-referenced notes in Ron's book made her pulse quicken with professional delight.
Charts connected moon phases to magical potency in ways she had not seen, while diagrams illustrated the interactions of roots and soils with such clarity that students could follow the logic intuitively. In the margins, Ron's handwritten notes revealed both humility and insight: "For Professor Sprout — thank you for showing me that even the quietest leaf breathes magic."
Her heart warmed as she observed her students connecting theory and practice in ways only possible when instruction and reasoning converged. Even the hesitant learners understood not just the how but the why.
"This boy will change how magic is taught," she murmured under her breath.
Astronomy Tower — Sinistra's Class
High in the Astronomy Tower, Professor Sinistra adjusted her telescope, guiding students as they plotted the movement of stars and planets. They consulted Foundations of Astronomy and the Arcane Sky, tracing constellations while noting planetary conjunctions and their effect on spell efficacy.
"Remember," she instructed softly, "Professor Weasley's book details planetary influences on magical practice. Cross-reference these with your potion work. Interdisciplinary collaboration begins with comprehension."
A fourth-year muttered under his breath, "He's just a child…"
Sinistra's eyes twinkled. "The stars care little for age. Only for alignment."
Bishop's Estate — The Squib's Precision
At Bishop's estate, Ron and Ginny had returned under the supervision of the Squib, whose meticulous nature made him ideal for bridging magical and Muggle domains. The photocopier whirred quietly as Bishop duplicated the Part Two script of Hogwarts Legends: Chapter 1 – Of Valor and Magic: The Battle of Godstone. One copy each was prepared for Dumbledore, Amelia Bones, and Ministry review. Ron observed silently, aware that though Bishop was a Squib, the man's loyalty to proper procedure and accountability meant these steps were mandatory.
Ron set down his quill after finishing the three new books: World History: A Unified Chronological Study of the Magical and Non-Magical Worlds, Welcome to My World – Muggle Edition, and Welcome to My World – Wizarding Edition. The work had been grueling, testing his endurance and focus. The System line flickered briefly before settling with calm finality:
[World History: 1000 Years: Grandmaster]
The backlash he had experienced in prior studies — fainting, nosebleeds — was now reduced to a two-day, persistent headache. Knowledge coursed through him fully assimilated, understood, and integrated.
Dumbledore's Office — The Headmaster Reads
Albus Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles reflected the morning light as he opened the script. Within minutes, his normally serene expression betrayed astonishment at the narrative's breadth and depth. The magnitude of the story stunned him; here was a child who had composed a legend with cinematic clarity and profound resonance.
Next, he turned to the two versions of Welcome to My World. The Muggle Edition evoked quiet laughter and wonder at Ron's perceptive tone. He summoned McGonagall, who skimmed both manuscripts.
"This should be compulsory for first-years," she said after reading the Muggle Edition. "And the Wizarding Edition can serve as a text for third-year Muggle Studies."
Dumbledore nodded, smiling faintly. "Very well. Let us see how it is received in practice."
Turning finally to World History, he read with furrowed brow. The interweaving of magical and Muggle events, the cause-and-effect analyses, and the meticulous chronology were extraordinary. Yet, the authenticity demanded verification.
"I must see Bathilda Bagshot," he murmured, rising. "A month's work should suffice to confirm this, and by November, all will be settled."
Godric's Hollow — A Historian's Insight
Bathilda Bagshot received Dumbledore with a soft smile. "Albus, this is… remarkable."
He handed her the heavy volume of World History. She turned the pages slowly, scanning every cross-reference, noting every linkage between wizarding events and Muggle history.
"My word," she said, voice hushed. "This synthesis… no archive could yield such connections. This child has drawn lines few historians even consider, much less connect with accuracy."
Dumbledore inclined his head. "So the book can be trusted?"
She chuckled softly. "Trust, perhaps, is too light a word. Respect, awe, and careful study — yes. And a bridge, Albus, between worlds long kept apart."
Filming Begins — Bishop's Estate
Back at the estate, Ron sat at the porch with his notebook, pen poised. Ginny practiced broom balance under Bishop's watchful eye. The Squib's guidance was methodical and precise, honed over years of bridging worlds he could never fully inhabit.
The first week of filming began quietly, the Squib crew assembling lights, stands, and enchanted filming instruments. Ron's script for The Battle of Godstone guided every movement. No words of the story were revealed, only its execution, its creation.
Ron watched the preparations with calm satisfaction, the weight of responsibility mingled with the thrill of creation.
In Hogwarts, Dumbledore closed World History and gazed through the tower window at the moonlit grounds. Students in classrooms below, professors supervising, and the castle itself alive with magic and curiosity, all reflected the slow, unstoppable weaving of knowledge, imagination, and history.
Across miles, under autumn skies, Ron adjusted his quill, ready for the day's filming. Ginny's laughter carried across the garden, Bishop's voice guided with steady authority, and Mr. Stark perched silently, ever watchful.
The legend was no longer just ink on parchment. It was alive — in classrooms, across histories, and on the cusp of the silver screen.