Preparation for Hogwarts

Vizet had heard from Luna before that there were other wizarding families near the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.

Molly Weasley walked ahead of him, carrying a basket of fresh vegetables in her hand. "The Diggory family lives nearby. Their boy, Cedric, is a good one — much less trouble than Fred and George." She chuckled softly, the warmth of a mother in her voice.

She glanced back at Vizet. "The Fawcetts are not far, either. I think they have a daughter starting at Hogwarts this year. You might run into her once school begins."

Molly had a way of talking that made the conversation feel like a gentle breeze — natural, familiar, and free of any awkwardness.

She continued, her tone softening, "We haven't been in touch with the Lovegoods much over the years — not since poor Mrs. Lovegood's accident. Such a tragedy for that family."

"Luna's a good girl, though," she added with a fond smile. "But she's… well, quite imaginative. Even Fred and George can't always follow her train of thought."

Vizet listened quietly, occasionally offering a nod or a smile. Having only been in this world for a couple of months, he found Molly's chatter comforting.

He finally spoke, his tone thoughtful. "To me, much of what Luna says is… inspiring."

Molly's face brightened at his words. "That's wonderful to hear! She's such a sweet child. I used to see her by the stream over there..." She gestured to a sparkling creek in the distance.

Her voice softened further, carrying an undertone of sorrow. "After her mother's accident, Luna would sit by the stream, fishing. Sometimes she cried. And if she saw me, she'd run home before I could say anything. She was just a little thing, missing her mother terribly."

Vizet's heart tightened at Molly's words, and he swallowed hard. "I don't think that will happen anymore."

Molly gave him a kind smile. "That's good to hear."

The conversation left Vizet with a strange feeling of unease. Hogwarts' closed teaching system meant students only left for holidays like Christmas or summer break. He couldn't help but think about how much Luna's world would change while he was gone.

The hill before them offered a view of two moons.

One was the real moon, high in the night sky. The other hung over the rook-shaped castle, glowing softly.

The luminous orb atop the castle was, as Luna had told him, her mother's magical creation — a relic of some long-forgotten experiment.

As the evening deepened, the light from the castle's moon grew stronger, casting an ethereal glow over the landscape.

Curious, Vizet allowed his magical instincts to guide him. Silver-blue light filled his eyes as he activated the Eye of Insight.

Magic danced before him like liquid silver, flowing through the castle and gathering most intensely in the glowing moon above it. The magic there was ancient, aged like fine wine over countless years. Its power called to him, tempting him to absorb it into himself.

But he resisted.

He knew that Luna often walked along the castle's upper floors at night, staring up at that moon. Somehow, he felt that taking it — altering it — would be a betrayal of the memory her mother had left behind.

He turned to Molly, who had stopped beside him to admire the view. "This is my first time seeing it at night," she said with quiet awe. "It's so beautiful."

She handed him the basket of vegetables. "These are for the Lovegoods — fresh from our garden. Say hello to Mr. Lovegood and Luna for me, will you?"

Vizet accepted the basket with gratitude. "Thank you, Aunt Molly. I really don't know how to repay your kindness."

Molly waved off his thanks with a warm smile. "No need for that. Just take care of yourself, dear."

As Molly's figure disappeared into the night, a soft hoot drew Vizet's attention.

Diana, Luna's fluffy owl, swooped down and nestled herself into his arms with a cheerful cry.

"Coo-coo!" came a sound from the birdcage on his cauldron. Inside, his bronze owl was ruffling its feathers, chirping excitedly as if welcoming him home.

A faint sound of footsteps followed, and when Vizet turned, he saw Luna standing there, her face illuminated by the moonlight.

Her pale gaze rested on him, and a gentle smile played on her lips. "Diagon Alley must have been magical, wasn't it?" she asked, her voice as airy as a breeze. "Did you get pestered by any bugs?"

"Coo-coo!" Diana chirped again, as though seconding her suggestion.

Vizet chuckled softly, his earlier worries melting away. Luna always seemed to have that effect on him — dispelling his anxieties with her quiet presence.

He glanced at the restless bronze owl in its cage and asked, "What do you think I should name this little one?"

Luna tilted her head, considering. "He's such a lively fellow," she mused. "Why not call him Sol? The sun and moon always appear together, taking turns to light the world."

"Sol…" Vizet repeated, nodding. "That's a good name."

With their owls chirping contentedly, the two walked side by side, their footsteps soft against the grass, heading back toward the castle.

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Unknowingly, August had drawn to a close, and tomorrow marked the beginning of a new school year at Hogwarts.

A month wasn't a long time, but Vizet had used it well—preparing for school, reorganizing his room, and making small improvements.

Luna had played a major role in this transformation. Or rather, she had taken charge of the entire room's decoration.

In addition to replacing the mattress and wallpaper, she had strung together Dirigible Plums to drape over his bed canopy. These magical, radish-like fruits were said to enhance one's ability to accept the unusual. Dirigible Plums were everywhere in the Lovegood home. Luna even wore them as earrings. As for Xenophilius, he swore that surrounding himself with Dirigible Plums while working helped him channel inspiration for The Quibbler.

The second floor of the castle had been especially lively lately—it was publishing week.

The magical printing press clattered away from morning to dusk, filling the air with the steady rhythm of "click, click, click."

Unlike Muggle machines, wizarding printing presses were entirely wooden, with only a few iron reinforcements at key points. They resembled the spinning machines of the Industrial Revolution but were enhanced by magic. A single press could perform the tasks of folding, binding, and cutting, all in one.

Xenophilius's role in the process was simple: design the first draft and feed it into the machine. From there, the press would take over, printing and assembling The Quibbler automatically.

However, despite its enchantments, the machine wasn't particularly fast. In a matter of days, it had produced fewer than a hundred copies.

During this time, Vizet also re-copied his textbooks for the coming school year.

As the saying goes, a good memory is no match for a bad pen. The act of copying helped him familiarize himself with the material, giving him a clear overview of the subjects he would study.

Luna had even designed the illustrations.

She had a remarkable talent for drawing—whenever Vizet described an image, she could bring it to life on paper with striking accuracy. She was especially gifted in sketching magical creatures, capturing their essence in every line.

"Mom and I read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them together," Luna explained, her eyes alight with fondness. "I've seen all the creatures in that book—except for the Snorkack."

"The Snorkack?" Vizet asked with interest. "Next time I'm at Flourish and Blotts, I'll look for books about them."

Luna shook her head, a wistful look crossing her face. "It won't be easy to find anything. They're incredibly rare."

She brightened again. "Dad says they live in Sweden. One day, I'll go find them myself and draw them."

Sweden.

Vizet made a mental note.

On the last night of August, Xenophilius opted not to cook, instead ordering from a nearby Muggle restaurant. He set up a lavish dinner at home, marking the occasion.

"Remember to write often," he said, his tone unusually serious. "Tell us everything about school—everything. You know what I mean."

Vizet nodded, smiling. "I understand."

Then, stepping toward the window, he tossed two steaks into the night sky.

In an instant, two owls streaked through the darkness like feathery bolts of lightning, catching the meat midair. With a satisfied coo, they acknowledged their meal before vanishing into the night.

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The morning of September 1st had arrived.

Vizet double-checked his Hogwarts admission letter and meticulously reviewed the contents of his suitcase once more. After ensuring that everything was in its place, he closed the lid, latched it, and carried it downstairs.

In the living room, Luna sat quietly, bathed in sunlight that streamed through the windows. The golden rays danced on her long, pale blonde hair, giving her an almost ethereal glow.

She was delicately grooming Sol, her small fingers smoothing each of the owl's feathers with care and precision. Sol occasionally chirped softly, content under her gentle touch.

"I'm leaving for school," Vizet said softly, breaking the stillness.

Luna looked up at him, her wide, dreamy eyes filled with both calm and a hint of melancholy. "Yes," she replied in her usual airy tone. "Although farewells can feel bittersweet, each parting is just the beginning of the next reunion."

She reached into her pocket and handed him a small green Gurdyroot, its faint, onion-like aroma instantly recognizable. "If you ever face confusion or difficulties, this will bring you good luck. It carries the essence of home."

Vizet accepted the gift and turned it over in his hand, smiling at the peculiar thoughtfulness behind it. Gurdyroots were unique to the Lovegoods, both in their cultivation and their unusual use as a tea ingredient.

"It truly is the taste of home," he said warmly, holding the small root with care. "The taste that's uniquely this place."

Luna's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "Take care of it, and it will remind you that no matter how far you go, you're never alone."

Vizet nodded, tucking the Gurdyroot safely into his pocket. It wasn't just a keepsake — it was a piece of the Lovegood family's magic and warmth that he could carry with him into the unknown journey ahead.