Chapter Three: The Spark in the Soil

Ronald Weasley sat cross-legged on the attic floor, the chipped clay pot before him and a flicker of triumph warming his chest. The afternoon sun streamed through the grimy window of the Burrow, bathing the peeling orange wallpaper in a soft gold, and the low ceiling hovered like an overbearing prefect, daring him to stand. It was still June 24, 1991, and the day sprawled ahead—hours yet to bend this new magic to his will. The dry soil in the pot had shifted under his focus earlier—a faint ripple, nothing grand, but enough to spark that tingling rush and trigger the panel's chime: Earth Manipulation, Level 1. No wand, no fuss—just his mind, sharp as ever despite this eleven-year-old frame, and a knack he'd honed in another life puzzling out languages and systems. Three months till Hogwarts—he'd turn this trick into something substantial, a tool to unearth riches on that island he'd claimed, a way to drag the Weasleys out of their patched-up existence.

He stretched, joints cracking from the awkward hunch—those beams were a menace—and flexed his fingers, still dusted with grit. The two books he'd pilfered from the garage—Foundations of Magical Construction and Enchantments for Everyday Use—lay tucked under the loose floorboard, hidden from his brothers' prying eyes. That soil twitch was a foothold, a proof of concept, and his adult mind—21 years of logic and study mashed with Ron's scrappy instincts—knew better than to stop there. He'd grind this out, level it up, make it practical. The Construction book had sparked the first move; he fished it out, settling it on his lap, and scanned the smudged text with a linguist's precision: shaping earth, hardening it—rudimentary, but scalable with effort.

"Basic shaping—harden it," he murmured, voice low, analytical. He pinched a bit of soil between his thumb and finger—dry, crumbling, a challenge—and closed his eyes, visualizing it solidifying, a compact sphere. His focus tightened, a familiar mental muscle from years of parsing syntax, and he pushed, willing the change. The tingle flared—electric, controlled—and the soil clumped, a rough, lumpy ball, firmer than dust but shy of stone. He rolled it in his palm, assessing its weight, and the panel chimed:

Earth Manipulation +15 XP (15/50 to Lv. 2)

Level 1 (40/100 XP)

Satisfactory—not elegant, but functional. He'd refine it, smooth the edges with practice. The attic hummed with the Burrow's distant clamor—Mum's pots clanging, a twin's laugh—but no one intruded yet. He set the ball aside, calculating: more repetition, tighter focus, build the skill's muscle. The tingle lingered, though, sharper than expected, and the panel flickered unbidden:

New Skill Unlocked: Wandless Magic (Lv. 1)

Effect: Enhances acquisition and control of wandless spells

XP Gained: 5 (Skill Discovery: Wandless Magic)

Level 1 (45/100 XP)

Ron's brow arched—a standalone skill, not just a byproduct? His adult mind latched onto it: a framework to streamline this wandless grind, a shortcut for a boy three months shy of a proper stick. Clever—almost too clever, like the system knew his predicament. He flexed his fingers, testing the sensation, and turned back to Foundations, flipping past the basics to a denser passage: forming mounds, ridges—expanding intent into structure. Trickier, requiring control, but his linguist's brain thrived on patterns; he'd crack it.

He scooped a handful of soil into the pot, smoothing it flat—methodical, precise—and visualized a mound, small and rounded, like a molehill. He pushed, the tingle spreading up his arms, warm and steady, and the soil quivered, rising into a lopsided hump, two inches high before it sagged slightly. The panel chimed:

Earth Manipulation +20 XP (35/50 to Lv. 2)

Wandless Magic +10 XP (10/50 to Lv. 2)

Level 1 (65/100 XP)

A decent attempt—stable enough, if rough. He adjusted his approach, narrowing his focus like he'd done with tricky translations, and tried again. The soil rose smoother, three inches, holding firm. Another chime:

Earth Manipulation +15 XP (50/50 to Lv. 2)

Skill Leveled Up: Earth Manipulation (Lv. 2)

Effect: Precision and strength of earth shaping enhanced

Level 1 (80/100 XP)

A jolt hit him—sharp, invasive, like a gust through his skull. His vision swam, and knowledge surged in: how to curve soil, pack it dense, shape it with a sculptor's finesse—details the book hadn't touched. He froze, breath hitching, the foreign flood settling into his mind like an unasked-for gift. Not his own, not earned through study—system-given, eerie as a ghost's whisper, but undeniably useful. He tested it, pinching more soil; it hardened into a smooth pebble in seconds, perfect and solid, no effort wasted. His pulse raced—part thrill, part unease—but he nodded, filing the sensation away. He made notes in the green notebook—knowledge from the text, plus this uncanny boost—keeping it brief, clinical, a habit from his old life.

The attic's shadows stretched as the sun dipped, but he wasn't done. He grabbed Enchantments for Everyday Use, its faded blue cover promising more, and scanned it with a strategist's eye—light, motion, adhesion. "Wandless Lumos Minor—focus on an object, will it to glow faintly" caught him—practical, versatile, perfect for that island's dark corners. He plucked a chipped chess pawn from the floor—white, worn—and set it down, visualizing a soft glow. His focus tightened, the tingle flaring hotter with Wandless Magic behind it, and he pushed. A faint yellow flicker bloomed, dim but real, fading in a heartbeat. The panel chimed:

New Skill Unlocked: Enchanting (Lv. 1)

XP Gained: 10 (Skill Attempt: Enchanting)

Wandless Magic +5 XP (15/50 to Lv. 2)

Level 1 (90/100 XP)

A baseline—weak, but a foundation. He adjusted, refining his intent like parsing a sentence, and tried again. The pawn glowed brighter, holding two seconds. Another chime:

Enchanting +15 XP (15/50 to Lv. 2)

Wandless Magic +10 XP (25/50 to Lv. 2)

Level 1 (95/100 XP)

Methodical now—he repeated it, tweaking the push, till the pawn shone steady for five seconds, a soft gold light. The panel burst:

Enchanting +35 XP (50/50 to Lv. 2)

Skill Leveled Up: Enchanting (Lv. 2)

Effect: Duration and intensity of enchantments increased

XP Gained: 5 (Skill Mastery)

Level Up: Level 2 (0/200 XP)

That rush struck again—dizzying, sharp, a flood of alien know-how. His head spun, and he saw it: layering light, shifting hues, pulsing if he chose—tricks the book hadn't hinted at, dumped into his brain like a borrowed playbook. He gripped the bed's edge, steadying himself, the thrill warring with a shiver. "System's a bit pushy," he muttered, but tested it—focused, willed the pawn blue, and it glowed, steady and bright for ten seconds. He noted the gains—book basics plus the strange extras—his adult mind cataloging it with a scholar's calm, though the weirdness prickled.

The day was waning—supper'd be soon—but Hawaii beckoned, its potential itching at him. He'd leveled twice, hit Level 2 overall; time to scout. "Shift," he said, and the attic blurred, replaced by warm sand. The main island of Hawaii, 1000 BCE, stretched around him—salt air thick with floral tang, waves roaring, dark cliffs left, green forests ahead, sea glinting blue. The minimap hummed—rivers, peaks, guiding—and he approached the cliffs, their jagged face flecked with shine.

"Analyze," he said, voice clipped, efficient:

Target Analysis: Volcanic Cliff Face

Composition: Basalt, obsidian traces, minor iron

Magic Density: Moderate (Ley line proximity)

Value: Low (Unrefined)

Obsidian—marketable if refined, his old self knew from geology texts. He pinched loose dirt, willed it hard—Level 2 shaped a perfect pebble, smooth as glass. The panel ticked:

Earth Manipulation +10 XP (10/100 to Lv. 3)

Wandless Magic +5 XP (30/50 to Lv. 2)

Level 2 (5/200 XP)

He pocketed it, calculating—obsidian could fetch a Knut or two, scaled up. The forest next—he crossed to it, grass cool underfoot, trees swaying, and spotted a glint in the roots. Brushing dirt aside, he lifted a dark, green-flecked stone. "Analyze":

Target Analysis: Peridot Fragment

Composition: Olivine, minor magical resonance

Magic Density: Low

Value: Moderate (Raw gem)

A gem—small, but a proof of concept. He stowed it, then enchanted a twig with Lumos Minor—Level 2 made it blue, steady for ten seconds, lighting the shade. Another tick:

Enchanting +10 XP (10/100 to Lv. 3)

Wandless Magic +5 XP (35/50 to Lv. 2)

Level 2 (10/200 XP)

Time pressed—he shifted back, landing in the attic with sand dusting his trousers. He stashed the pebble and peridot by the books, noting the finds' potential—raw materials, scalable with skill. Footsteps thumped up—quick, heavy—and he shoved everything under the floorboard, pulse spiking.

George's head poked in, grinning. "Oi, Ron—supper's up, Fred's nabbed the mash. What's this—playing mud pies?"

"Chess," Ron said, standing smoothly, brushing sand off with a casual flick. "Lost a piece."

George smirked, eyeing the pot. "Chess with dirt? You're off your rocker—c'mon, Mum's bellowing."

"On my way," Ron said, slipping past, keeping his cool—too close, that. His adult mind filed it: tighter secrecy, no slips. Supper waited—mash and Mum's fuss—but he'd carve out more tonight. Hawaii's riches loomed, and he'd be ready.