After days of practice, Vizette had grown accustomed to keeping a leaf tucked in his mouth. He discovered that a subtle Wingardium Leviosa charm allowed him to speak and eat without spitting it out—just a quick stabilization when his mouth opened, letting the leaf hover without hindering his tongue.
It was odd, though, how everyone kept asking if he'd been poisoned. Fellow Ravenclaws approached with genuine concern, wondering if he needed to fetch a professor. Even students from other houses, spotting the leaf during chats, offered worried advice. Hermione and Harry from Gryffindor insisted he try a bezoar, swearing it was a foolproof antidote. Harry claimed he'd pried the tip from Snape himself after endless detention threats, vouching for its reliability. Ron chimed in that he'd lost points in their first Potions class for not knowing its uses.
Hufflepuff's Hannah and her friends were bolder, bundling up premium burdock roots and sending them over. Professor Sprout had raved about their detox properties and curse-suppressing effects.
Draco from Slytherin even offered his help, mentioning a rare antidote from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries—limited stock, but leagues better than standard brews.
Amid all this kindness, Vizette felt a genuine warmth. He patiently explained each time: it was just spell practice, no poison or hex involved.
...
While adjusting to the leaf ritual, Vizette delved into the memories Helga Hufflepuff had left behind. Probing the Pensieve in its hidden room revealed a puzzle-like barrier—rune-based enigmas that would take ages to unravel before unlocking the full recollections.
He realized his study list had ballooned. Transfiguration topped it, with the grueling Animagus transformation as his main focus. In charms, he'd mastered the Memory Charm and recently picked up Memory Extraction—both branches of mind magic, ripe for deeper synergy.
For unconventional spells, pairing Ancient Magic: Imperius Curse with Magia Revelio intrigued him. On magical creatures, they could probe hidden circuits and essences, a pursuit that sparked his curiosity.
Sorting priorities, he reluctantly bumped Ancient Runes down the queue.
---
Vizette hadn't forgotten his promise to Fred and George. On a quiet evening, he led them to the Vanishing Cabinet.
The twins gawked, their voices syncing in awe: "Merlin's beard! It's real!"
"I knew this spot hid something," Fred said, nose pressed to the wood. "We found it last year dodging Filch—gorgeous thing like this has to be special."
"We blasted it with every spell under the sun," George added, fiddling with a gear. "Nothing budged it."
Vizette just smiled enigmatically. Maybe his presence had unlocked the Entrance Hall for Serena's heirs.
The twins fidgeted. "How do we crack it?" Fred urged. "We're dying here!"
He raised his wand to a metal dial, twisting the pointer. "Start by aligning this—then chant: 'Our time is etched here...'"
A click echoed as gears whirred, the panel swinging open to a shadowy stairwell.
The twins swapped grins. "Brilliant!"
"Vizette, we'll take point," Fred declared, and they bolted through.
"Endless stairs!"
"Stone walls thick as a dragon's hide!"
Even the distant iron gate's slow grind earned nods: "Top-notch security!"
At the threshold, they bowed dramatically. "Discoverer's privilege—after you!"
Vizette laughed at their antics and stepped in first. The twins trailed, eyes wide, scanning left and right before locking gazes in shared wonder.
Fred whooped, clapping. "Massive! Beats our old hideout—it's a whole new realm."
"These walls could withstand a basilisk," George said. "Perfect for experiments—no blasts echoing to the castle."
They linked arms, twirling until dizziness hit, collapsing in giggles.
Regaining footing, they roamed, inspecting every corner. "These barrels? Ideal for stashing supplies," Fred boomed, clambering into one, his voice muffled.
George hefted an armored dummy. "And these? Prime targets for spell tests."
To them, the hall was paradise: barrels for potions, dummies for duels, even corner cobwebs sparked praise.
"Hang on—these books feel wrong," George said, spotting the stack. "Fred! Vizette! Check this out."
Vizette had conjured a basic shelf for the eerie, blank tomes not long ago.
Fred flipped one open, frowning. "Feels just like... you know, the ones back home that wiped Mum's memory."
—