Footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor.
"George, did you hear something?"
"Let's check it out. Probably just some Ravenclaws up early, poring over ancient tomes."
The footsteps drew closer, and Wyzett looked up to see two familiar faces—none other than the twins, Fred and George.
"Wyzett?" Fred grinned mischievously. "First day at Hogwarts and you're already up at dawn, living up to Ravenclaw's reputation!"
"Doesn't look like he got up by choice," George added, furrowing his brow in mock seriousness. "I bet Professor Trelawney got an itch for some ancient, primal divination ritual…"
"Ah, I see!" Fred nodded sagely. "Randomly picking a first-year for a blood sacrifice to divine the mysteries of fate."
Wyzett couldn't help but laugh. The twins' talent for spinning tall tales was truly something to behold.
"This lady's a Hogwarts professor too? Why is she drinking at sunrise and muttering nonsense?"
"That's Professor Trelawney—she teaches Divination," George explained. "Supposedly the great-great-granddaughter of a famous Seer, but honestly, I think she's more like a dark witch."
"Exactly!" Fred chimed in. "She's obsessed with death prophecies… practically hopes they'll come true."
"And those are death prophecies," George added, lowering his voice theatrically. "If she really wanted them fulfilled, she'd have to use some nasty Dark Magic curses!"
Thud!
Trelawney's eyes rolled back and she toppled over, her head hitting the floor with a sharp crack.
The twins shook their heads in mock admiration, as if listening to a symphony. "What a lovely sound."
This was the strangest professor Wyzett had ever encountered, and he had no idea what to do next.
He glanced at the twins, who seemed perfectly at ease. "So… what now?"
Fred crouched down and gave Trelawney a gentle nudge. "Out cold. Typical Professor Trelawney—every move is a surprise, even for a Seer."
He looked up. "What's your first class?"
"Potions."
"Then leave this to us!" Fred slung one of Trelawney's arms over his shoulder.
George stepped in smoothly, taking her other arm.
"You've got your first class with Professor Snape," Fred said casually. "It's a good idea to know the way to the hospital wing—it might just save your life."
"Absolutely. Remember this route!" George said, face solemn. "If Professor Snape ever mentions poison, and you feel the slightest bit odd, get to the hospital wing—fast!"
"Poison?" Wyzett's eyelid twitched. "Is that part of Potions class?"
"Nope!" the twins replied in perfect unison. "That's just Professor Snape's idea of a joke."
"In his own twisted way, he's brilliant," George mused. "A lot of our best prank ideas come from the poisons he's used in class."
"As long as he doesn't actually kill us off…" Fred shot George a look.
George grinned. "Then his poisons turn into Galleons in our pockets!"
Wyzett's curiosity was piqued. "What's the connection between pranks and poison?"
"Now you're talking!" Fred praised. "I can tell you're genuinely interested."
"That's the Ravenclaw spirit—always digging for answers," George agreed. "You probably haven't seen much of the magical world yet, let alone prank products."
"It's a whole new world! Potions meeting creativity, magic crossing with alchemy—that's how prank products are born!"
The twins spoke about their beloved "prank products" with an almost religious fervor.
Before they set off, Wyzett activated his Oculus Magicae (Eye of Magic), glancing at a nearby tapestry.
The tapestry shimmered with enchantment—the figures within had come alive. A troll in a ballet tutu swung a club, chasing a scrawny wizard who dodged frantically.
On the wall opposite, thick ancient magic pooled, outlining the shape of an arched doorway.
Wyzett mused, Could Professor Trelawney have come from there? The magical world really is full of surprises.
The hospital wing was on the second floor of the castle. Even before they pushed open the doors, the pungent scent of herbs wafted out.
Madam Pomfrey ran the hospital wing—a place equipped with the finest supplies and potions, able to handle almost any illness or magical injury.
A sharp voice rang out, "Trelawney! Drunk again, and it's barely sunrise!"
Just as Wyzett was about to knock, a tall, thin middle-aged woman swept out. Her stern bearing reminded him a little of Professor McGonagall.
Her robes were distinctive—almost like a medieval nun's habit, with rows of pockets bulging with tools and potions.
"Thank you, boys." Her tone softened. "Once again, you've brought her down here… It's barely the start of term and already there's a drunk sprawled in the corridor. Utterly disgraceful!"
Fred nudged Wyzett with his elbow. "This is Madam Pomfrey."
Wyzett nodded, watching closely as Madam Pomfrey set to work.
"Episkey!"
A swirl of emerald light gathered at the tip of her wand, erasing the bruise from Trelawney's forehead in an instant.
She fished a test tube from her pocket, expertly pried open Trelawney's mouth, and poured the potion down her throat.
Trelawney erupted in a fit of coughing, spitting out clouds of amber smoke tinged with the stench of alcohol.
"Evanesco!" Madam Pomfrey frowned, waving her wand again. The foul amber mist vanished without a trace.
"Professor Trelawney, I expect you to show some restraint! Letting new students see you in such a state is simply…"
"New students?" Trelawney bolted upright, clutching her face, and vanished around the corner faster than a startled cat.
"Brilliant!" Fred and George whistled. "If Professor Trelawney ever quit Divination to become a Seeker, she'd be a legend!"
Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow at the twins. "You two! Why are you giving first-years Baruffio's Brain Elixir? It may be harmless, but overuse leads to dependency!"
"Who, us?" George pointed at his own nose, feigning innocence. "You know us, Madam Pomfrey—we can't afford that stuff!"
"Exactly!" Fred agreed. "We can barely scrape together enough for rosemary. Tree monkey brains cost a fortune!"
Wyzett chimed in to help. "Madam Pomfrey, I haven't taken any potions. They actually helped me bring Professor Trelawney here."
"Perhaps," Madam Pomfrey said, bending down to examine Wyzett. "Do you feel your mind is a bit empty? That's what happens if you take Baruffio's Brain Elixir for too long."
Wyzett didn't want to reveal his use of Custodis Meditatio (Guardian's Meditation), so he stuck to his story. "I haven't taken any. Maybe I just went to bed late?"
"Maybe so." Madam Pomfrey didn't press further, producing a bottle of violet-tinged potion. "Just one drop—this'll clear your head."
"Is that lavender tincture, Madam Pomfrey?" Wyzett asked curiously. "I read about it this morning while reviewing."
"A clever Ravenclaw indeed." Madam Pomfrey nodded, using her wand to draw out a single drop of the tincture.
"You've got classes this morning. This will keep you alert, and you won't get drowsy. Since you're in Ravenclaw, go find a crystal at lunch to clear your mind. You'll be right as rain by afternoon."
With that, she strode back into the hospital wing without another word.
"Madam Pomfrey's amazing," Wyzett sighed, already feeling better.
"Isn't she?" Fred grinned. "Shame she leaves the castle for the summer holidays, or we'd never have to go home!"
"Absolutely not!" Madam Pomfrey called, suddenly reappearing. "This isn't your private clinic! Be careful with your magical experiments and spare me some worry!"
"Yes, Madam Pomfrey!" Fred and George snapped a salute, grinning from ear to ear. "We'll remember, promise!"
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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