The pixie erupted in uncontrollable laughter, collapsing in a twitching heap inside the iron cage after just two breaths. Its high-pitched giggles echoed sharply off the walls.
"Finite Incantatem!" Vizette flicked his wand, lifting the Rictusempra.
The pixie scrambled to its feet, sprawling on its back and gasping for air.
"That's potent," Neville murmured, inspecting his wand with wide eyes. Hannah nodded beside him, equally stunned.
"Headmaster Dumbledore always says every wizard has unique talents," Vizette explained. "You can draw on that—use transfiguration to grasp other spells, like we just did."
He paused. "And don't forget the Full Body-Bind. Last year, we studied the Devil's Snare—try linking it to that curse. Experiment more."
"A Full Body-Bind through Devil's Snare?" Neville's voice pitched up in surprise.
"Exactly." Vizette snapped his fingers. "It works with other magical plants too."
Luna inhaled deeply, her eyes distant. "The greenhouses are full of them... like pots of paint, blending into something wonderful."
Vizette smiled. "Precisely. Treat them like brushes and create the spells you envision."
"Right," Neville said, steeling himself. "I'll give it a go."
"It's just my take," Vizette added. "You'll need to tweak it yourself—your Herbology's top-notch, after all. Share any breakthroughs; we learn together."
"I promise," Hannah said eagerly. "I'll keep you posted."
Luna tugged Hannah's sleeve. "No need to stress. The best part is enjoying it... like Vizette does. He's content every day."
Vizette met Luna's gaze and nodded. "You keep me that way—studies, life, all of it."
He continued, "Asking for help matters too. When I link transfiguration to charms, I run it by Professor Flitwick."
"Class is ideal for that," he went on, "but with so many students, he might not spot if you're struggling unless you speak up."
"Like Luna says, keep it light. Experiment until it clicks for you."
Neville hesitated. "Asking questions like that... Flitwick won't mind?"
"Never," Vizette assured him. "He's brilliant—all our professors are. Now go; breakfast awaits." Madam Pomfrey bustled back into the Hospital Wing. "Clear out those beds for patients who need them."
...
En route to the Great Hall, Neville and Hannah's thanks flowed nonstop until Neville's stomach rumbled, sparking laughter from the group.
Inside, Vizette eyed the House Cup hourglasses. Snape's 150-point deduction from last night had backfired; Gryffindor's gems now glittered brighter, thanks to Dumbledore's quiet interventions with Hermione and Ron.
The hall buzzed with chatter about the Chamber of Secrets' heir—mostly jests and whispers. The Weasley twins slapped the tables, grinning wickedly. "Confession time! We're the heirs—watch your step, or we'll unleash the basilisk!"
Snape's penalties only fueled the rumors: Colin must've sneaked out, earning the house a hit.
...
Vizette, already fed, slathered honey on Luna's bread while Roger Davies outlined fresh Quidditch tactics for the upcoming practice.
With Arsenal Vincent's graduation, Roger had stepped up as Ravenclaw's captain. Their priority: mastering the Cleansweep Sevens.
Fresh off last year's championship win, the team had upgraded from aging Cleansweep Fives to these balanced brooms—solid performers, nearly matching Nimbus 2000s in speed and handling, though not quite the 2001's edge.
Vizette's test flight confirmed it: superior stability let him weave the pitch with sharper turns and bursts of acceleration.
...
Spectators dotted the stands—not just Luna and Quidditch fans, but scouts from rival houses sizing up strategies.
As Vizette streaked from the shadows, faces soured. Slytherin's captain, Marcus Flint, jabbed a finger at him, barking orders to his Beaters.
Gryffindor's Oliver Wood caught the gestures. "Flint's scheming—bet he's targeting Vizette first, or bragging about their brooms."
"Smart move," Angelina Johnson admitted wryly. "On a Cleansweep Seven, he's a nightmare to catch."
"We'll drill harder," Wood declared, rubbing his hands. "The heir's a hoax anyway—more practice time ahead."
"Luckily we've got Harry," he added. "If he snags the Snitch before Cho Chang, we're golden. Just speed."
"And no weird pep talks," Angelina shot back. "Remember yesterday? That's why Harry's in the Hospital Wing!"
"Got it—lips sealed," Wood promised, flushing.
Hufflepuff's captain clapped Cedric Diggory's shoulder. "It's on you. End it quick, or Vizette's pace will bury us—even if we catch the Snitch after twenty minutes, the score's done."
Cedric mustered a grin. "I'll try."
The captain backpedaled. "Easy—no pressure. Matches are unpredictable!"
—