HP: Transmigrating as an Obscurial

The afternoon classes passed uneventfully, but Quirrell's condition remained poor. Deep furrows of anxiety lined his brow, and the dark circles under his eyes were as thick as ink stains that refused to fade.

Even in their private lessons, Quirrell remained distant, barely speaking beyond what was necessary for instruction. His avoidance was obvious, but Vizet knew better than to press the matter. Instead, he continued his quiet routine — offering chocolate frogs as a token of goodwill, watching for any change in the professor's demeanor.

By the time Vizet left the hall that evening, the celebration from the match had died down on the Quidditch pitch, but it was far from over inside Ravenclaw Tower.

For once, the usually studious and composed Ravenclaw students allowed themselves to indulge in victory. Wands were raised, casting shimmering spells upon a floating crystals in the common room, filling the air with colorful reflections. Someone had managed to track down Fred and George Weasley, purchasing a hefty supply of their magical fireworks, which crackled and fizzed in bursts of bright blue and silver.

The Weasley twins, delighted by the unexpected business, had even thrown in an assortment of sweets and snacks, sending the celebration into full swing.

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As the days passed, the snow around Hogwarts grew thicker, signaling the approach of the Christmas holidays.

Vizet woke early one morning, bidding farewell to his roommates before packing his luggage and making his way down the winding, uneven path to the train platform.

Standing before the Hogwarts Express, watching its thick white steam billow into the cold air, he felt a quiet moment of reflection settle over him.

Half a year.

Without realizing it, he had already spent half a year at Hogwarts.

But soon, nostalgia was replaced by excitement — by anticipation for the familiar warmth of home.

Sol, perched on his shoulder, flapped his wings and nuzzled against his cheek.

"You miss Diana too, don't you?" Vizet murmured.

"Coooo!" Sol cooed in response, his feathers ruffling in the crisp morning breeze.

The platform was quieter than usual. Many students had chosen to remain at Hogwarts for the holidays, leaving several train compartments empty.

Vizet settled into a window seat, pulling out his magic circuit notebook as he waited for the Hogwarts Express to depart.

Within its pages were two particularly intriguing circuits — one belonging to the Diricawl and the other to the Golden Snitch.

The Snitch's circuit was something he had recorded after examining the very one Cho Chang had caught during the match. He had been curious about its enchantments, and now, studying the notes, he could see the distinct patterns that made it such a remarkable object.

The Diricawl's magic circuit was far more intricate. Unlike most circuits, it appeared deliberately broken in places — yet somehow, it functioned harmoniously.

When a Diricawl used its natural ability to Apparate, half of its magic circuit would vanish — only to reappear at its new location.

The Golden Snitch's circuit, on the other hand, was made up of concentric, overlapping rings, like a perpetually spinning wheel. Perhaps it was this unique formation that granted it such incredible speed and precision in the air.

Vizet had spent weeks studying both, and though he couldn't explain why, he felt certain that these two circuits were connected.

Curious, he sketched them side by side, dividing the Diricawl's circuit into two halves and placing the Snitch's circuit in between. Then, he began experimenting with different ways to link them together.

But no matter how he arranged the lines, something felt... off.

The final circuit lacked the seamless flow he was searching for.

Still, a quiet certainty lingered at the back of his mind. If he could find the right way to merge these two magic circuits — if he could unlock the missing piece — he was sure something incredible would happen.

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"Vizet Lovegood?"

A voice broke through the quiet hum of the moving train.

Vizet looked up from his notebook and saw an unexpected visitor standing at the carriage door — Cedric Diggory.

Tall and broad-shouldered, Cedric had the easy confidence of an athlete, with a warm expression and a natural charm that made him well-liked among students, even outside of Hufflepuff.

"Mind if I sit here?" Cedric asked.

Vizet shook his head, tucking away his notebook. "No one's sitting. Go ahead."

Cedric slid into the seat across from him, flashing a friendly grin. "You played brilliantly in the last match! I doubt even professional players would have the nerve to use the Quaffle like that!"

"Probably because I had nothing to lose," Vizet said, rubbing the back of his neck. "It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, really."

"But that's talent too!" Cedric laughed. "You fly so well — if you ever decided to be a Seeker, I'd probably lose sleep before our match."

Vizet chuckled. Cedric's popularity wasn't just because of his looks or skill in Quidditch — he had an easygoing way of keeping conversations light, avoiding anything that might turn tense or uncomfortable.

As the train rumbled forward, their conversation naturally shifted toward Transfiguration. Cedric had a talent for it, and Vizet was eager to ask questions.

"Professor McGonagall always says Transfiguration requires caution," Cedric said thoughtfully. "But I think observation is just as important. If you can't fully picture the object in your mind, your spell won't be as precise."

"That makes sense," Vizet nodded, taking notes. "The better you understand something, the better you can alter it — whether it's a teacup or a hedgehog."

The discussion flowed easily between them, ranging from school subjects to Quidditch, and even their lives outside Hogwarts.

Vizet's world was simple — Hogwarts, his research, and the quiet comforts of the rook house garden.

Cedric, on the other hand, carried the weight of expectations.

"My parents want me to work at the Ministry someday," Cedric admitted, his voice quieter now. "Preferably in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "But honestly, I'd rather work with my dad." His face flushed slightly, but he pressed on. "He's in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He works late a lot, and there's always some risk… I just want to help him, so he doesn't have to do it all alone."

After a pause, he scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "You don't think that's silly, do you?"

"I envy you," Vizet said simply.

Cedric blinked. "You do?"

"Your parents have expectations for you because they love you and want to see you succeed," Vizet explained. "And you love your father enough to want to help him, to share his burdens. There's nothing foolish about that — if anything, it's admirable."

Cedric's shoulders relaxed slightly as Vizet continued.

"If working with your father is your goal, then getting into the Ministry is the first step anyway. The path is the same, so why worry? If you push yourself and succeed, you'll have even more choices — helping your father and having opportunities to move forward when the time comes."

Cedric's eyes widened slightly, as if the pieces had just clicked into place. "I've been overthinking it, haven't I? Why didn't I see it like that before?"

"Because you're inside the maze," Vizet said with a small smile. "And I'm looking at it from above."

Cedric let out a breath, then grinned and extended his hand. "Thanks, Vizet. I'm really glad I got to know you properly today. Just call me Cedric."

Vizet reached out and shook his hand.

"Vizet."