HP: Transmigrating as an Obscurial

Everything was ready.

Vizet and his companions officially set out on their journey.

They traveled through the Floo Network to London, arriving via the Leaky Cauldron, and then — like seasoned Muggles — hopped on a city bus to reach the area near Thames Harbour.

After several days of navigating both magical and non-magical bureaucracy, Xenophilius had grown surprisingly adept at using Muggle transportation. He even seemed to enjoy the challenge, declaring each successful ride a personal triumph.

The Thames, the great "mother river" of Britain, widened as it approached London's edge, forming a vast estuary nearly thirty kilometers across where it poured into the North Sea. Naturally, such a location had long been chosen as one of the country's largest ports.

Ships of all shapes and sizes crowded the horizon — some docked, others setting sail toward distant shores. The river shimmered with silver waves, and the morning sun pierced the thinning mist, gilding the surface with a soft golden light.

The Thames glowed with that rare blend of silver and gold, a quiet magnificence that made the whole harbour shimmer like treasure.

Though still early, Thames Harbour was already wide awake. The hustle of merchants, dockworkers, and travelers mingled into one great, bustling harmony.

Xenophilius led the way, weaving through the crowd with surprising purpose. After a short walk, he stopped abruptly, pointed toward a section of the old dock building, and said, "We're here!"

Vizet and Luna followed the line of his outstretched finger.

Just as with the Leaky Cauldron, the magical port was concealed behind illusions. Only wizards could see the plaque affixed high above the wooden archway: Port of Tamesis.

Beneath the sign stood a tall, arched wooden door, carved with wave patterns and Norse-style knots, each line delicate and sharp. Gems glittered where the carvings dipped into hollows — small, sea-blue stones that pulsed faintly as Vizet looked at them.

The doorknob was shaped like a silver dragon's claw. Its scales gleamed, the talons sharp and coiled, as if it might spring to life at any moment.

The door stood atop a ring of old stone steps. Muggles unconsciously avoided these, veering aside as if nudged by some unseen hand.

As the trio stepped up onto the stones, the silver claw moved.

It twisted, flexed, and extended forward as if offering a handshake.

Xenophilius grasped it without hesitation, and the door creaked open, revealing a wide stone passageway.

The moment Vizet stepped across the threshold, A Wizard's Practical Guide flipped open of its own accord. A new fog map shimmered into view on the page, signaling the presence of ancient, ambient magic.

He didn't hesitate. At once, he activated the Eye of Insight to collect a portion of primordial magic flowing through the area.

"They're all lavenders," Luna said, crouching beside the stone path. "They've been watered very carefully. That's why they're growing so energetically."

As if stirred by her praise, the lavender bushes swayed gently in a breeze that wasn't there, releasing a soft, calming fragrance that seemed to drift straight into the bones.

At the end of the stone road stood an open-air dock — not nearly as crowded as the Thames Harbour outside. Only a few ships were moored here, and the foot traffic was sparse.

At the far end of the pier, mounted like a statue, loomed the carved head of a dragon. Its jaws were open, its eyes ever-watchful, staring straight out to sea as if guarding every ship that came and went.

Magic thickened the air. The water here lay smooth as glass, perfectly still, reflecting the blue sky so clearly it looked like a polished gemstone.

"Mr. Lovegood! Mr. Lovegood!" someone called from across the pier.

A tall wizard strode toward them. His skin was dark and cracked from sun and wind, his frame wide and strong — he looked like he'd stepped out of a Viking tapestry himself. He wore a thick wool robe, despite the warmth.

"You must be the first ones," he said, shaking Xenophilius's hand with a firm, friendly grip. "I only just arrived myself."

He was a guide from the Viking House travel agency — the first face of their magical voyage.

Xenophilius smiled. "We were already up, so we figured we'd come early."

"The ship should arrive in about half an hour," the man said, glancing at a bronze timepiece tucked inside his robe. "You're welcome to wait here or wander around. There's a small bar down that path if you want to relax."

He pointed to a side road leading to a crooked little hut. It looked like a building that might fall over in a strong breeze — dark, windowless, and more run-down than even the Leaky Cauldron.

"If you forgot to buy any souvenirs, you can grab some Swedish vodka while you're there," the guide added with a wink.

Xenophilius shook his head. "No, no, I've got two children with me. Let's skip the bar."

The man laughed heartily. "Suit yourself! Just come back here when our ship appears — you'll recognize it easily. It's a beautiful three-masted vessel with intricate carvings all along the hull. Can't miss it."

"We'll gather here once it arrives, then?"

"Exactly," the guide nodded.

It was Luna's first time seeing the sea, and her excitement was impossible to contain.

Wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat that bobbed as she moved, she skipped along the edge of the path, her steps light and full of joy. Her smile didn't fade for a moment.

Behind her trailed Xenophilius, yawning again and again, his eyes heavy-lidded and his pace slow. Clearly, he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before.

The wind played with Luna's long, pale-golden hair, catching the sun in glints of shimmer. Her dreamy eyes reflected the endless sky and glittering water.

She laughed as she dodged a wave that crested near the shore, its foam spraying harmlessly toward her ankles. "These rolling waves must be from the yawns of a sea monster nearby," she said, turning to Vizet with a glint of mischief. "That's why there's foam. It's like... sea monster drool."

Vizet glanced behind them, then nodded seriously. "The seabed must be very cozy today — so many yawns, the whole sea's rippling."

Luna's eyes widened with delight, and she nodded, enchanted by the thought.

She opened her arms wide and twirled once before closing her eyes and whispering, "The little sea monsters must be restless, and the big sea monster is probably humming them to sleep with a lullaby — just like this breeze…"

Vizet's smile lingered as he slowed his steps and approached Xenophilius, who was now rubbing his eyes and blinking wearily.

"Mr. Lovegood," he said gently, "how about you rest here for a while? We're nearly at the dock."

"Mm… be careful near the edge… don't fall in," Xenophilius mumbled, yawning so wide it seemed to stretch his whole frame.

He reached inside his coat and pulled out a tiny folding chair. With a flick of his wand, it enlarged to full size.

"I was up late last night trying to finish packing… I'll sit here for a bit. Just wake me when the ship comes…"

He didn't finish the sentence. Before his last word even left his lips, he had already slumped into the chair, snoring softly, his chest gently rising and falling in rhythm with the waves.

Vizet chuckled and shook his head, then turned and made his way back to Luna.

In the mental map glowing faintly in his mind, he could see the fog over this stretch of road had cleared completely. The pathway was now fully visible, detailed and precise.

He tapped into the ambient power and carefully channeled the last traces of primordial magic into A Wizard's Practical Guide.

The book flipped open on its own, as it always did when recording new insights. A new entry appeared, glowing faintly on the parchment:

Primordial Magic: Potion-CraftGuide the power of primordial magic… use it as a medium to balance soul signatures and refine potion properties.

"Balance soul signatures and potion properties…" Vizet murmured, his brow furrowing. His thoughts immediately flew to the Soul-Soothing Draught.

Could it mean that, with this magic, he might be able to produce a purer form of the potion, even without a soul labyrinth?

And if he dared to go a step further — might it be possible to convert the unique traits of a soul into the magical essence of a potion… or the other way around?

It was an intriguing, dizzying idea.

Unfortunately, he had none of the necessary materials on hand. Otherwise, he would have pulled out his shrunken cauldron and begun brewing on the spot.

Still, the thought thrilled him.

If the Soul-Soothing Draught could be enhanced — its instability neutralized and its effects deepened — it would not only be a remarkable advancement in potion theory, but also a valuable addition to his upcoming business.

He'd already planned to start with Wiggenweld potions, but if this worked… he could offer premium Soul-Soothing Draughts as well. That would certainly attract the right attention — and profits.

His thoughts were interrupted by Luna's delighted call.

"Vizet! Come here!" she shouted, waving her arm and holding something high above her head. "Come listen! There's ocean music inside the shell!"

She stood at the edge of the pier, holding a conch shell to the sky like a trophy. The sea breeze whipped around her, lifting the brim of her sun hat and nearly carrying it off before she pinned it with her hand.

With the conch in one hand and the sea behind her, Luna looked as though she belonged there — an elf-like messenger sent by the sea itself.

Vizet smiled softly, thoughts of potions and profits momentarily pushed aside.

We'll make plans once we reach our destination, he thought.

Then he raised a hand and waved. "Here I come, my elf messenger!"

Luna turned, eyes twinkling. "Are you talking about me?"

"Yes. I heard the sea elves' call, and I've come to listen."

"In that case," she said with a grin, raising the conch to him, "you'd better listen carefully!"

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