HP: Transmigrating as an Obscurial

The Vasa would sail beneath the sea for two full days before reaching the coast of Sweden.

On days when the skies above were clear and no Muggle vessels hovered nearby, the ship would rise to the surface, its great deck basking in the sunlight. Passengers were free to lounge there, soaking in the warmth and sea breeze.

But when night fell — or if Muggle ships approached — the Vasa would dive back beneath the waves, gliding through the undersea world and encountering a myriad of magical marine creatures along the way.

Throughout the journey, Xenophilius never forgot his identity as a journalist. He wandered the ship daily, notebook in hand, eyes gleaming with curiosity as he sought out interesting anecdotes and oddities to submit to The Quibbler.

Vizet, meanwhile, divided his time. When he wasn't helping Luna review basic spells, he roamed the ship alone, quietly observing every detail of the vessel's structure, décor, and enchantments.

And when both Luna and Xenophilius retired to bed, he would retreat to the guest room's study, sit by the softly glowing torches, and train in solitude with A Wizard's Practical Guide — experimenting with the ever-expanding mysteries of primordial magic.

Though nothing tangible had happened yet, Vizet couldn't shake a strange tension from his mind — a subtle pressure, a whisper of expectation — as if something in Sweden were waiting for him.

To prepare, he decided it was best to be cautious.

He poured his accumulated primordial magic power into the Guide, unlocking two more pages.

Primordial Magic: MuldrithMaster the power of primordial magic... Use it to enhance the properties of the earth and soil...

Primordial Magic: FloramancyMaster the power of primordial magic... Use it to commune with magical plants... Slightly increases your affinity with magical flora...

These two spells, while unlikely to be immediately useful in a duel or emergency, would certainly aid him in nurturing Devil's Snare or furthering his understanding of Herbology.

Vizet had long accepted the Guide's unpredictability — it often granted long-term potential rather than short-term power. But he didn't mind. These two additions could prove vital in time. Whether for enriching his home garden or advancing his magical studies, they would serve him well.

With that long-term utility safely logged in his mental plans, Vizet turned his focus to the more practical and immediate.

He returned to practicing his very first primordial spell: Shield

If any danger awaited him in Sweden, this spell would be his best line of defense.

And so, he repeated the movements again and again — focusing on fluidity, reaction time, and magical control — seeking to make the spell as seamless and instinctive as possible.

Even he could not maintain such intense focus forever.

Eventually, exhaustion would catch up with him. As the night reached it's peak, he dozed off right there in the study, with his head on top of his folded arms.

"Vizet, it's time to get up... time to get up..."

The voice was soft and lilting, like a whisper in the morning mist. It sounded more like a lullaby than a wake-up call — something that tempted the listener to fall deeper into dreams rather than emerge from them.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Still half-asleep, Vizet felt a tickle on the tip of his nose.

He stirred, mumbling in a groggy tone, "Mm... I'm getting up... getting up..."

The smell of fresh greenery met his nose — faint and familiar — like leaves after rain.

He cracked open his eyes, blinking against the warm sunlight pouring in through the nearby window.

A cheerful face greeted him, smiling quietly — Luna.

She stood at his side, shielding him from the full brilliance of the morning sun, her pale golden hair catching the light like fine down. The glow encircled her like a soft halo, making her seem more like a morning spirit than a schoolgirl.

"It's time to get up," she whispered again, in a sleepy murmur that almost contradicted her words.

Still blinking, Vizet became aware of something fluttering before him. He reached out on instinct, and a delicate leaf danced just out of reach — only to drift gently back into Luna's waiting hand.

She beamed. "Professor Vizet, was my Levitation Charm good?"

It was clear now: the tickle that woke him had come from that floating leaf, carefully maneuvered by her spell.

"Excellent," Vizet chuckled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "So good that I'm now reconsidering whether I should teach you the Fire-Making Spell."

"If I learn that," Luna replied with complete sincerity, "I'll only use it to toast bread and keep warm."

She tilted her head, thoughtful. "But this Levitation Charm... it's just for waking people up."

Vizet smiled at that — genuinely. "What a wonderful idea... to greet the day with the first spell you ever learned."

A voice called out from beyond the room.

"Vizet, get up quickly!" came Xenophilius's echoing shout. "I'm heading to the restaurant first. You two come soon — and don't forget to pack everything back into the suitcase!"

The sky above Sweden's magical port was as clear and sunny as the one they had left behind — yet there lingered an undertone of coldness, a faint solemnity in the air that could not be dismissed.

Vizet and the others stepped off the Vasa and followed the gentle curve of the dock, their eyes soon drawn to a towering structure ahead: a massive archway that framed a curtain of water, cascading endlessly like a vertical river. It thundered down in a torrent, splashing mist into the air.

To exit by ship, every wizard had to walk through that watery portal. Only after passing through it — soaked to the bone — could they truly leave the port behind.

Stationed nearby were two towering, clumsy-looking giants. They held wooden staves and wore uniforms that hung awkwardly on their hulking frames — clearly intended for a smaller species. Despite the ill-fitting attire, they stood rigidly like security personnel.

But what caught Vizet's eye even more were the gatekeepers of the portal: two goblins — short, with pointed teeth and hawkish features — standing guard with fierce expressions. Their eyes missed nothing.

A tall wizard stood behind them, wand at the ready, his face taut with alertness. He looked as though he had been stationed there not for ceremony, but for defense.

Under the guide's lead, the group left the magical dock and followed a winding street that took them away from the tension of the port. Soon, they arrived at a cozy bar, filled with the gentle crackle of firewood and the scent of pine.

Floating near the ceiling was a large, translucent bubble, softly pulsing with light.

The guide clapped his hands, regaining the group's attention. "Unlike England's Floo Network, Sweden uses something a little different for magical travel — what we call the Bubble Chain!"

He gestured toward a stone basin filled with viscous blue goo.

"Think of it as a more... bouncy version of Floo powder. Dip your hand into the goo, then press your hand into the bubble. Speak your destination, and it'll carry you straight there!"

There was a murmur of interest from the crowd.

As with all travel, novelty brought excitement — and the bubble chain offered just that. One by one, the tourists dipped their hands into the goo and followed the guide's instructions. With a shimmer and a soft whoosh, they were pulled into the glowing bubble and whisked away toward the hotel.

Xenophilius, however, hung back.

He waited until the last traveler had vanished before stepping closer to the guide, lowering his voice. "What's going on? Why all the checks at the port?"

The guide blinked, clearly not expecting the question. "Checks?"

"Yes," Xenophilius pressed. "The Thief's Downfall waterfall, goblins at the gate, half-giant guards... That's not routine, is it?"

The guide paused, then gave a theatrical shrug. "Ah... just a precaution. Something small. That's all."

Xenophilius raised an eyebrow. The guide sighed, glanced around, and pulled a folded newspaper from his coat pocket, pressing it into Xenophilius's hand.

"The Obscurus attack on the Swedish Ministry," he said under his breath. "That's what they printed. They've launched an investigation. Nothing more was made public... but of course, you didn't hear that from me."

Xenophilius unfolded the paper, scanning the headline. "An Obscurus? Here? Will they check our identities?"

"You have valid wizarding passports," the guide replied quickly, then faltered. "They're not targeting travelers. But... don't be surprised if there's another check before you leave."

He gave an uneasy chuckle. "Still, the Swedish Ministry is efficient. Maybe by the time you return, the whole thing will be sorted — and the Obscurus caught."

Xenophilius frowned, folding the paper slowly. "Let's hope so."

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