Vizet had ordered a simple, round scoop of ice cream — nothing fancy in appearance — but it was generously sprinkled with chopped nuts, chocolate chips, and a few fresh raspberries.
He couldn't help recalling Florean's performance earlier. The transformation of that ordinary scoop into a whimsical owl-shaped creation that could flutter for a moment like a real bird — it had looked effortless.
But Vizet understood there was subtle magic behind it. It wasn't just about the appearance. That short flight had likely involved an elegant combination of Transfiguration and Levitation Charms — simple on the surface, but requiring deft control.
Intrigued, he took out his notebook and jotted down his thoughts, mapping out a theory on how the effect had been achieved. Then he picked up his wand to test it for himself.
He began with a straightforward Transfiguration to alter the ice cream's shape — just cosmetic changes, no internal tampering — followed by careful applications of the Levitation Charm, adjusting his casting technique each time to control the altitude and stability of flight.
Fortunately, with Snape's earlier guidance on the Glacius charm, Vizet had also learned to work with cold substances. That came in handy here; he could keep his magical ice cream from melting while he worked.
Across the table, Luna had already begun her citrus sorbet, scooping carefully from the edge where the syrup had pooled. As it melted in her mouth, her shoulders eased, and a blissful hum escaped her lips — a sound reminiscent of a content kitten. Her bright eyes never left Vizet, watching him work with quiet delight.
She saw how focused he was — brow slightly furrowed, lips pursed in concentration — as he shaped and re-shaped the ice cream until it lifted, stable and swirling, in the air.
Eventually, he succeeded. The small owl-like scoop took flight just as he'd hoped, gliding gently around the table before returning to rest in the dish.
"Huh…" he murmured, satisfied. "I think I could use this for magic bread as well. Not for anything practical, of course… but it could make the presentation more fun. Imagine bread that floats to the table, or flaps like wings before landing."
He smiled and circled the notes in his book, marking the idea with a neat tick.
When he looked up again, Luna's bowl had already vanished and she was resting her chin in one hand, watching him with a gentle smile.
"Were you waiting long?" Vizet asked, chuckling apologetically. He quickly polished off his own ice cream. The chill hit his temples like a sudden breeze, and when he exhaled, a faint mist puffed from his mouth.
Luna rose and reached for a napkin, then leaned in and dabbed the corner of his lips with a light, scraping motion.
"It's a very cute owl," she said softly. "Even more beautiful than the one I saw before."
Startled, Vizet raised a hand to the spot she'd wiped. "Did I get some on me?"
"You ate it too fast," she said with a gentle nod. "There was still time, you know. We don't have to rush. Dad won't be meeting us for a while."
"I should've been more thoughtful," he murmured, his tone sheepish. "I should be the one taking care of you —"
Luna tilted her head, her voice airy but firm. "Do we need to decide who takes care of whom?"
Vizet blinked… and then smiled. "No. I suppose we don't."
The blush on Luna's cheeks had finally faded — but now his own face felt uncomfortably warm. It must be the summer heat, he told himself.
From behind the counter, Florean Fortescue watched them go, stroking his beard with a wistful grin.
"Youth," he sighed contentedly. "It really is a beautiful thing."
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As Vizet had hoped, Ollivanders was much cooler inside. The familiar stacks of wand boxes still reached to the ceiling, the shop dim and hushed, filled with the scent of aged wood and magic.
As the bell above the door chimed softly, Mr. Ollivander appeared with his usual quiet smile."A year already... how time flies, doesn't it?"
Vizet stepped forward, concern in his voice. "Mr. Ollivander, are you fully recovered now?"
"Last Christmas, I told you I'd made a full recovery," Ollivander replied with a gentle wave of his hand. "Wandmaking helps, of course. Keeps the hands steady, the mind sharp. But the Healers didn't believe that crafting could be therapeutic." He gave a wry chuckle, then glanced to the side. "Ah... and a new face. Vizet, who is this young lady?"
"My sister," Vizet replied, "Luna."
"She looks about the right age for Hogwarts," Ollivander observed, studying Luna thoughtfully. To Vizet's surprise, he didn't summon the usual flying tape measure.
Instead, he turned back to Vizet. "Why don't you give it a try?" he asked. "Recommend a wand for her."
"Me?" Vizet blinked. "You want me to choose?"
Ollivander nodded slowly, his silver eyes twinkling. "Wandmakers often sense the wand that suits a person best. But when you know a person... truly know them... you may also be able to choose a wand that will choose them. Think of it as a little test — based on the notes I gave you."
Luna tilted her head, intrigued. "Do I need to do anything?"
"Not a thing," said Ollivander with a mysterious smile. "I have a feeling you won't need to. As long as Vizet studied those notes properly, he'll find the right answer."
Vizet swallowed and looked down, his mind already racing.He began sifting through memories.
That first meeting — sunlight catching in her hair as she folded her arms across her chest, a halo glinting around her...The moment she stood unflinching before the Runespoor, her eyes calm and steady, hair flying in the wind...The warmth in every one of her letters, the peace she brought with every word...The morning dew potion she brewed with such tenderness...That blindfolded moment when her hands had gently covered his eyes, and his heart had nearly leapt from his chest...
These moments wove themselves together into something unspoken yet certain.
Just as Ollivander said, it was a feeling — intangible, but true.
Even if the wand didn't exist here, Vizet knew he'd find the materials and make it himself.
At last, he spoke, his voice quiet but sure."Sycamore wood. Unicorn tail hair. Ten and a half inches. Flexible, but study."
Ollivander raised his brows in approval.
"Sycamore wands," Vizet explained, "are best suited to those who are curious, always seeking new experiences — brave enough to explore the unknown. I think that fits Luna perfectly."
"A fine choice," Ollivander said warmly. "I was thinking the same. Her eyes kept darting around the shop since the moment she walked in."
He turned and disappeared into the dim shelves at the back. Moments later, he returned with a long, slender wand box and placed it in Vizet's hands.
"This is one of my most recent creations. The unicorn hair inside came from your Christmas gift. It's a wand I'm especially proud of."
Vizet opened the box.
Inside lay a beautiful wand, golden with the faintest greenish tint. Its handle was carved in a graceful spiral, almost like a unicorn's horn, elegant and fluid.
Luna stepped forward and reached into the box. The moment her fingers closed around the wand, a golden light erupted from the tip and swept through the shop in a warm, radiant arc.
The light danced around her in a complete circle before gently flowing back into the wand.
Ollivander watched it all with a quiet, satisfied smile."One try," he murmured. "It seems you know her very well, Vizet."
Vizet turned to Luna, who was already looking at him. And in that brief glance, both of them smiled, in mutual understanding.
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