Even wizards had to painstakingly reverse-engineer magical patterns through endless trials and deductions—testing spells, potions, and rituals until the underlying laws revealed themselves. It was a grueling process, often stretching over years of patient observation.
Vizette had glimpsed the depths of this during his private lessons with Snape. He knew firsthand how rare it was to shortcut the method. But the Seer's Eye changed everything. It let him peer directly at those patterns, allowing forward deductions and insights into their raw potential.
This was no small gift; it was a game-changer. Yet its power hinged on what he already knew. Without a foundation of spells, theory, or history, the patterns would be meaningless—just abstract swirls, useless for sparking new ideas. Wizards built their forward leaps on the scaffolding of reverse deduction, after all.
The Eye suited Vizette perfectly, feeding his insatiable curiosity about the wizarding world's hidden layers. He drew a deep breath, savoring the earthy tang of mandrake leaves as it slid down his throat, seeping into his veins and mind.
"Ah, that's why mandrake leaves," he murmured. "They anchor the vision."
Dumbledore chuckled, pocketing his wand as the night sky blurred and Hogwarts' towers loomed closer. "Looks like our work here is done."
Flitwick and McGonagall followed suit, holstering their wands. Moonlight spilled over the rugged Scottish Highlands once more, silvering the heather.
"Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Headmaster—thank you," Vizette said, bowing deeply. A flush of embarrassment warmed his cheeks. "I never meant to drag you into this."
"Nonsense, lad—it's no trouble at all," Flitwick beamed, his eyes twinkling. "I'm delighted to help a Ravenclaw of my own house!" He shot a playful wink at the others, lingering on the word "Ravenclaw."
McGonagall and Dumbledore exchanged an amused glance, shaking their heads in unison with soft sighs.
"Filius, the boy is Ravenclaw through and through," Dumbledore said mildly. "Vizette, care to enlighten us in true Ravenclaw fashion?"
Vizette glanced around, the chill autumn wind whipping through the highlands. Nights here bit deep, especially now. "Headmaster, could we move somewhere warmer? I'd like to use the Pensieve."
"A Pensieve?" Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up. "You've mastered Legilimency already? There's one in my office—shall we?"
...
En route to the headmaster's office, they crossed paths with Fred and George Weasley on the eighth-floor corridor. The twins had just slipped out for a midnight prowl, only to freeze at the sight of McGonagall's stern face and pursed lips.
Sweat beaded on their foreheads despite the cool air. George mustered a weak grin. "Evening, Professor McGonagall... Headmaster... Professor Flitwick... Vizette!"
Fred blinked hard. "You lot got nabbed too?"
"Good evening, boys," Dumbledore replied with a twinkle. "We're simply attending to a matter and heading off shortly."
"Oh—right, right!" The twins nodded vigorously, catching the hint. They slapped the Fat Lady's frame. "Honeydukes!"
The plump portrait huffed, swapping her gown for a feathered top hat as if preparing to decamp. "Deep into the night again, are we? Always off to the wilds..."
The twins' laughter boomed, covering her mutterings and easing McGonagall's scowl. Dumbledore shrugged at them with a benevolent smile. "Minerva, onward."
Relief washed over Fred and George. "Night, everyone!" They bolted back inside.
...
In the headmaster's office, Fawkes perched weakly on his stand, trilling a low, mournful note. Dumbledore had opted for the walk; the phoenix's rebirth loomed, leaving him too frail for Apparition with passengers.
Vizette nodded to Fawkes first, then pulled a small flying boat from his pocket and offered it. The bird nudged his palm gently before pecking at the treat.
"He'll mend after the rebirth," Dumbledore said, retrieving a rune-etched stone basin from a cabinet. The Pensieve looked ancient, its surface etched with faded symbols. "Sifting memories is taxing, Vizette. Don't overdo it."
Vizette nodded firmly. "I've got the memory extraction spell down, and I picked up Obliviate from Professor Lockhart's lessons."
"Lockhart..." Flitwick massaged his temples. "Even he has his moments."
"Indeed," McGonagall agreed dryly. "If only he'd skip the theatrics in class." She shot Dumbledore a meaningful look.
The headmaster winked back, unfazed. Vizette raised his wand to his temple, moving deliberately. "Transfer Memory!"
A silvery strand emerged, coiling slowly before dripping into the basin.
"Impeccable form," Dumbledore praised. "Shall we dive in, then?"
They leaned over the Pensieve, plunging into the memory. Reality blurred into a liminal haze—half dream, half truth. Dumbledore's voice echoed with genuine awe. "Exquisite. You've stripped away so much personal bias—it's like viewing a pure echo of the mind."
The vision unfolded: Vizette's earlier flight over the Forbidden Forest, the professors' guidance weaving spells to attune his Seer's Eye. Patterns shimmered in the air—arcane threads of magic, pulsing with potential. He'd traced one, a faint rune tied to ancient wards, and the Eye had amplified it, revealing links to long-forgotten charms.
But deeper still, the memory captured his epiphany. The mandrake infusion hadn't just sharpened his sight; it stabilized the visions, preventing the disorientation that plagued early users. Deductions flowed: a forward leap from pattern to application, like glimpsing a spell's core and instantly adapting it.
The professors watched, transfixed. Flitwick murmured, "This could redefine how we teach Transfiguration—direct insight into the laws!"
McGonagall frowned thoughtfully. "And the risks? If he pushes too far without foundations..."
Dumbledore raised a hand. "A valid concern, but look—his control is steady. Vizette, you've tapped something profound here."
Emerging from the memory, Vizette felt the office's warmth anchor him. The Seer's Eye wasn't just a tool; it was a bridge to the wizarding world's core mysteries. With it, the impossible felt within reach—spells evolving on the fly, secrets unraveling like knots under skilled fingers.
Yet humility tempered his thrill. Knowledge was the true key; the Eye merely illuminated the door. As Fawkes's trill softened into contentment, Vizette met Dumbledore's gaze. The headmaster nodded, a spark of pride in his eyes.
"This changes things," Dumbledore said quietly. "For you, and perhaps for all of us."
Vizette smiled faintly, the weight of potential settling like a well-worn cloak. The night deepened, but his path gleamed brighter than ever.
…
100 Powerstones = 1 Bonus Chapter Tomorrow!
Help us reach the goal!
Too slow? We upload 10 Chapters/Day on P@treon!
The book is likely Already Finished there. Don't wait for daily updates—read the complete story + R-18 scenes right now!
[email protected]/Ren Saga