Snape sent one final letter, this time offering his reasoning: perhaps the lingering presence of the Obscurus was interfering with Wyzett's ability to master the Draught of Peace.
For once, Wyzett found himself truly downcast, a rare sense of defeat settling in his chest.
He sat on a garden bench, the letter crumpled loosely in his hand, eyes fixed on the distant stream.
He wasn't sure when Luna had joined him—she simply appeared, as quietly as moonlight, sitting by his side.
She stayed with him, letting the wind tousle their hair, listening to Sol and Diana coo and bicker in the distance.
She watched the horizon with him, where the wind pressed the grass flat but could never truly bend it.
She sat with him from afternoon until sunset, until the sky filled with stars and the moon rose high above.
Gradually, Wyzett felt the heaviness in his heart begin to ease, the sting of disappointment fading away.
Luna lifted her wrist, holding a crystal bead toward the heavens, where the moon peeked shyly through the clouds.
"Tonight the moon is up, and tomorrow the sun will rise again. They're like a phoenix—rebirth and renewal, all just part of nature."
Wyzett listened quietly, gazing into her pale gold eyes. Suddenly, he felt a weight lift—a smile broke free.
He was just like Cedric on the train, lost in a maze of his own making.
He'd trapped himself for so long over a problem so simple.
Fortunately, he had someone—elfin and gentle—to light the way out.
"Maybe an ending is just... the beginning of something new. Failure, too—that's a kind of treasure. I suppose things have been too easy for me lately."
"Maybe you need a few Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans?" Luna suggested, her eyes crinkling with mischief. "Dad always says he gets the vomit-flavored ones..."
"Of course, I think there's a pack in the candy jar!" Wyzett grinned. "Let's hope my luck isn't that bad. I can handle bogey flavor, but vomit is a bit much."
"My luck's always good—I always get orange." Luna laughed. "And if I find a nice one, I'll share it with you."
Wyzett stood up slowly, watching as Luna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. In that moment, everything felt right again.
Setbacks weren't the end of the world. What mattered was how you faced them.
For the rest of the Christmas holiday, Wyzett let himself simply live.
He packed the professors' gifts carefully away in his trunk, to be unwrapped again once school resumed.
Dark Shadows in the Fortress! The Wizard's Last Dance! was a true hit—even earning a spot in the front window at Flourish and Blotts.
Xenophilius was busy from dawn, working the printing press to keep up with demand.
Wyzett and Luna used the Floo Network to explore London and its outskirts.
This time, there was no plan—just pure, simple joy.
They rode the Knight Bus to countryside markets, sat on chipped white benches, and savored crispy toast and fresh cheese.
After breakfast, they lingered outside, breathing in the scent of flowers and coffee, watching people pass and imagining what stories might unfold next.
They strolled along the Thames, counting spires and domes across the river.
Or they'd climb the hills at the city's edge, taking in the sweeping skyline.
Wyzett felt truly rested, as if life itself was a better tonic than any potion.
If he was a house still under construction, then magic was the foundation and brickwork—while these moments of life were the windows.
And with windows, the moonlight could finally shine in...
Before he knew it, the day to return to Hogwarts had arrived.
Wyzett and Luna didn't need any drawn-out goodbyes. A single look said everything.
After parting from Luna, Wyzett boarded the train back to Hogwarts.
The Scottish Highlands were still blanketed in snow. Filch, the caretaker, stood shivering in an oversized coat, barking at students from the station railing.
"Over here! Follow me!"
Under Filch's direction, Wyzett made his way down a wide woodland path lined with rows of carriages.
He climbed into one, and the door snapped shut behind him—the carriage trundled forward on its own.
Curious, Wyzett activated his Oculus Magicae, peering out. He glimpsed a massive magical circuit up ahead, but with only intermediate skill, he couldn't make out the details.
With his current Oculus Magicae, he could clearly see magical circuits of beings no larger than a wizard, but larger creatures remained a blur.
As for the true nature of a wizard's own circuits, that was still beyond his reach.
Back in the dormitory, he found the place empty.
Judging by the chaotic desks, his roommates were locked in a last-minute battle with the mountain of holiday homework.
Sure enough, a note on his desk bore a desperate plea from all four: Wyzett, come to the library and check our assignments!
He grabbed Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick's notebooks and headed for the bustling library.
Madam Pince was stricter than ever—if the noise rose above a whisper, she'd swoop in and banish a random "lucky" group of students.
Anthony and the others had wisely staked out the farthest corner from her, keeping a wary eye on her movements.
When they spotted Wyzett, their faces lit up. Taking advantage of a rare moment when Madam Pince turned away, they stood and waved frantically.
"Wyzett! You're finally back!" Michael whispered. "Quick—can you check if there's anything we can improve?"
For Ravenclaws, simply finishing homework wasn't enough—they wanted praise, and perfection if possible.
Wyzett flipped through their work, nodding in approval. "Looks good!"
"If you really want to take it further, try quoting some original lines from the books in your conclusions—it'll give your argument a lift."
"Let's see... in the Potions section, twelfth cabinet, there's a book called Basic Potions Commentary. Its style is formal and concise—very Snape."
"In Charms, sixth cabinet, Chadwick's Magic, Volume One—the summaries are clever, might inspire you."
"Transfiguration, fifteenth cabinet, sixth shelf—From Silver Needle to Sharp Blade. Some great lines in there too..."
"You're a genius!" his four roommates whispered, giving him silent thumbs-ups.
They scattered, careful not to make a sound, vanishing into the library's endless shelves.
"Wyzett! Wyzett!"
Two barely audible voices called out.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron appeared before him.
"Hm?" Wyzett glanced at Madam Pince, then lowered his voice. "What's up?"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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