Amica looked puzzled. "You mean oak can be used to make wand cores?"
"Haven't you ever heard?" Wyzett cleared his throat and slipped into his best Ollivander impression: "Oak, unicorn tail hair, eleven inches, remarkably rigid."
He glanced at Luna and gave her a conspiratorial wink. "Well? Did I sound like him?"
"I wouldn't know…" Luna shook her head with a soft smile. "You helped me pick out my wand, remember? I never actually heard Mr. Ollivander say things like that."
Amica frowned, thinking it over. "I do remember trying an oak wand once, but he said it didn't suit me and gave me another."
Wyzett explained, "That's because Ollivander is absolutely passionate about wands. He'll do whatever it takes to find the perfect match for each witch or wizard. It's always a two-way choice."
"Mr. Ollivander thinks highly of oak. People with oak wands tend to have sharp intuition and a natural affinity for both animals and plants."
"Is that so?" Amica sounded half-impressed, half-baffled. "You're Wyzett Lovegood, right? I'm Amica Miller."
"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Miller," Wyzett said with a polite nod.
Amica brightened. "Miss Clearwater told me you led the Ravenclaw team to win the Quidditch Cup last year!"
"My mum and dad were both Ravenclaws—they always talked about the Cup. Said it was a shame the house emblem's an eagle, but we could never seem to win…"
"Miss Clearwater…" Wyzett glanced down the table, where Cho Chang and Penelope were laughing together.
Noticing his look, both girls gave him enthusiastic thumbs-ups, then burst into giggles behind their hands.
"Well…" Wyzett coughed. "I just followed the captain's tactics. It was a team effort, really."
…
"How were your classes this morning?" Wyzett and Luna walked side by side, heading back to the Ravenclaw common room.
Luna thought for a moment before answering in her gentle, dreamy way, "Professor Snape is very serious, and his voice is… special."
Wyzett raised an eyebrow. "Special?"
"Yes! It's the kind of voice that's perfect for storytelling. The really unusual stories…" Luna nodded. "Daddy used to read me The Tales of Beedle the Bard."
"He'd tell me 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune,' 'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot,' 'The Tale of the Three Brothers,' and 'Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump'… but he always skipped one story on purpose."
Wyzett recalled the collection and smiled knowingly. "The one he skipped was 'The Warlock's Hairy Heart,' wasn't it?"
Compared to the other tales, "The Warlock's Hairy Heart" was as dark as anything from the original Grimm's Fairy Tales.
It told the story of a brilliant, wealthy young warlock who, determined never to be shackled by emotion, used dark magic to remove his own heart and lock it away. He became utterly cold—even his parents' deaths left him unmoved.
Only after hearing his servants mock him did he try to prove he wasn't alone. He proposed to a witch, brought her to his castle's deepest chamber, and showed her the imprisoned heart.
To convince her he could love, the warlock returned the hairy heart to his chest—only to find it had been warped by dark magic, turned savage and violent.
Driven mad, he killed the witch to take her fresh heart, then cut open his own chest to remove the hairy one.
In the end, he died clutching both hearts, unable to complete the final exchange, collapsing atop the witch's broken body.
It was, without doubt, a chilling tale. No wonder Xenophilius had always left it untold.
"I snuck a peek at that story…" Luna lowered her voice, sharing her little secret with Wyzett. "Daddy never noticed!"
"If Professor Snape told that story, and you recorded it with magic… I think his voice would be perfect!"
Wyzett nodded enthusiastically—he had to agree. Snape's deep, haunting voice was made for that kind of story.
"In History of Magic today, Professor Binns mentioned something called 'WWN'—the Wizarding Wireless Network."
"WWN started during the war, when wizards fighting against Grindelwald's lot copied Muggle radio technology to create magical broadcasts."
"When peace returned, WWN lifted the secrecy spells and opened up to all of Britain. You can tune in with a magical radio."
Anthony had one, and sometimes brought it out on weekends to listen to the Weird Sisters—an all-male band, despite the name.
"WWN! Daddy and Mum used to listen to Magical Time," Luna recalled. "But then our radio broke, and Daddy never bought a new one."
She sighed softly. "Maybe Professor Snape could work for WWN. He'd make a brilliant radio host."
Seeing how serious Luna was, Wyzett hesitated. "You don't think he'd ever leave Hogwarts, do you?"
"I'm not sure." Luna shrugged. "I think he likes Potions, but also doesn't like Potions…"
"How do I put it? It's like strong drink—you need it to sleep, but you have to live with the pain afterwards."
"The way Professor Snape brews potions is different from what's in the textbooks." Wyzett was starting to understand Luna's point.
"His methods are actually better—he's improved the whole brewing process."
"Would he ever write a new textbook?" Luna asked. "You said before he's a Potions Master."
"He wouldn't," Wyzett replied, shaking his head. "I was curious once and asked him about it… He refused."
That was during a private lesson one weekend before Halloween. He hadn't figured out Snape's temperament yet, and the question had ended the lesson early.
If you just did things his way, asked less and did more, Snape was happy to share his knowledge.
A dreamy look came into Luna's eyes, as if she were lost in memory. "Professor Snape's Wrackspurts come and go…"
"When he's teaching, the Wrackspurts appear. But when he starts patrolling the classroom, they all fly away."
Wyzett asked, half-joking, "What about when he's taking points off—do you still see Wrackspurts then?"
"Not a single one!" Luna shook her head earnestly. "But around the students he's deducting points from, there are loads and loads of Wrackspurts!"
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