Wait—
A sudden spark of insight flashed through Wyzett's mind.
If the Imperius Curse had such properties, couldn't it be used to study the soul itself?
Perhaps, at its inception, the Imperius Curse was designed to allow a wizard to control another's soul by the simplest means. But for Wyzett, this spell clearly held other possibilities.
Just as he'd once told Snape, Dark Magic was nothing more than a tool to him. It could be a weapon—or a surgeon's scalpel.
Even if casting Dark Magic bred dark intent, he could always ward it off with a Purifying Charm, keeping himself safe from corruption.
After all, having once lived side by side with an Obscurus, he was always on guard against the invasion of negative thoughts. He was keenly attuned to such influences and could adjust in time to protect himself.
Having mastered the Imperius Curse, Wyzett made a circuit of the room, gathering up every last trace of Ancient Magic lingering here. He finally stopped in one corner.
With his Oculus Magicae, he spotted a cluster of pulsing silver-blue light on the floor—eerily similar to the auras he'd seen in the mirror world.
"Nox!" Wyzett intoned, casting his enhanced Extinguishing Charm.
A field of pitch-black magical energy blossomed out, enveloping the silver-blue glow.
He leveled his wand at the light and, with a practiced motion, drew upward—pulling a tall mirror from the floor.
The mirror looked grand, reminiscent of the Mirror of Erised, but its frame was different. Instead of serpentine carvings, spiraling currents—the hallmark of Ancient Magic—coiled up the sides.
At first glance, it reflected nothing unusual: just Wyzett with his wand. But peering closer, he noticed the scenery behind him had changed.
Where there should have been a rack of barrels, the mirror showed only darkness—and the faint outline of a staircase.
Ancient Magic: Self-Molding (Devil's Snare Form)
Wyzett shifted his hand into Devil's Snare and edged toward the glass. The enchanted vines slipped through the mirror's surface, sensing another place entirely.
That side was shrouded in darkness, which only sharpened the Devil's Snare's perception.
He extended the vines farther, discovering a small platform on the other side, with a staircase spiraling downward.
"So this room's just a way station. The real Guardian's Chamber… must be beyond the mirror."
After all, entering this room only required an incantation. But to raise the mirror, you had to sense Ancient Magic itself.
Stretching the vines as far as he could, Wyzett stepped into the mirror, following the platform down.
On the other side, the world was a cavern—damp stone walls glistening, the air thick with the scent of water.
Before long, torchlight flickered ahead, illuminating a towering metal door.
He approached and found a magnificent bronze gate, covered in intricate carvings.
At its heart, most striking of all, was a spiraling symbol—the mark of Ancient Magic.
Wyzett pressed his wand to the spiral. Deep within, his Obscurus core gave a faint throb as he channeled Ancient Magic into the symbol.
The spiral began to glow, swirling gently with the torchlight.
A seam split the center of the bronze doors, and with a low rumble, they slowly swung open, revealing a vast, shadowy cavern beyond.
Gazing into the darkness, Wyzett frowned. "Looks like it'll take a while to reach the true Guardian's Chamber…"
After weighing his options, he decided to leave the exploration here for tonight and get some proper rest. He'd return on the weekend to delve deeper.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep on the train, or the midnight wander through Hogwarts, but Wyzett slept deeply and dreamlessly.
When the first rays of dawn slipped through the curtains and warmed his face, he opened his eyes and sat up slowly.
His roommates were still fast asleep. After dressing, he slipped quietly from the dormitory.
In the common room, Luna was already awake, curled up on the windowsill, gazing out toward the distant Forbidden Forest.
Her fingertips traced gentle patterns on the windowpane, as if sketching something only she could see.
Wyzett approached. "Missing watering the garden flowers already?"
Luna smiled at him. "Mm. I only remembered after I came downstairs that I'm at Hogwarts."
Wyzett noticed faint marks on the glass—roughly the shape of a horse, but with wings and a gaunt frame. Definitely not Sleipnir the eight-legged steed.
Curious, he asked, "What kind of horse is that? Is it out there in the Forest?"
"Thestrals—very rare magical creatures. I never expected Hogwarts would have so many!"
As she spoke, Luna traced another elegant curve on the window.
"One just flew out of the Forest a moment ago, then darted right back in. It was even faster than Sol or Diana!"
Following Luna's finger, Wyzett saw the treetops shiver and sway.
He activated his Oculus Magicae and glimpsed clusters of blurry magical circuits—familiar, somehow.
He remembered, after Christmas last year, riding the carriage up to Hogwarts Castle and seeing similar magical auras.
"So those were Thestrals?" Wyzett nodded. "The carriages at Hogwarts are pulled by them."
"But I can't actually see Thestrals—I just get a vague sense of them. What do they really look like?"
"You can't see them, but you can sense them?" Luna tilted her head, a lock of hair falling across her forehead. "I'll draw one for you! They're actually quite sweet…"
She pulled out her sketchbook, quickly outlining a horse's body, then adding a dragon-like face and broad, bat-like wings.
Thestrals were little more than skin and bone, their joints sharp and prominent, their whole presence tinged with mystery.
"They really do look like Death's own steeds," Wyzett mused. "Should we make this one move, too? Like the painting last night?"
"Thestrals wouldn't like that." Luna shook her head gently. "They're lovely, but a lot of wizards misunderstand them…"
"They think Thestrals are frightening, that they crave bloody meat, and so they're considered unlucky."
"And not everyone can see them. Only those who've witnessed and understood death can see a Thestral."
Seeing Luna's faintly downcast expression, Wyzett brightened. "Do you remember the Dirigible Plums you sent me last year?"
"I do!" Luna nodded. "You used to mention the seedlings in your letters, but you didn't bring them back home for summer."
"They grew so well I couldn't fit them in my trunk," Wyzett explained. "So I left them here at Hogwarts."
"You mean—" Luna's eyes sparkled.
"Yes, in Professor Sprout's greenhouse." Wyzett grinned. "When she saw me with the Dirigible Plums, she insisted on keeping them."
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