HP: Transmigrating as an Obscurial

After leaving the Ravenclaw common room, Vizet immediately noticed something odd. As he walked through the corridors, students whispered behind cupped hands, casting curious glances his way. Some even turned back after passing him, as if to double-check that he was indeed the person they had been talking about.

Anthony sidled up beside him, his voice tinged with seven parts envy and three parts amusement. "You're a celebrity now — after all, you did defeat a troll."

Michael nodded, grinning. "I heard at least three different versions of the story today, and none of them match what you told us last night."

Vizet raised an eyebrow. "Three versions? What are they saying?"

He was still thinking about his manuscript. If the rumors were that wildly exaggerated, perhaps he could borrow some elements for his own storytelling.

Michael turned to Chris. "Hey, you remember what Ron and the others were saying, right?"

Chris scratched his head in thought. "Hmm... well, according to them, the troll was no ordinary troll. It was far smarter than Flint — smart enough to actually throw a club as a weapon."

Vizet stifled a laugh at the mention of the name.

As a fellow Quidditch player, he was well aware of Marcus Flint, the Slytherin team captain.

Anthony, a devoted Quidditch fan, immediately caught on and smirked. "Gryffindor and Slytherin do love to insult each other, don't they? I've seen Flint a few times myself. Honestly... he does resemble a troll a little — just shorter."

Vizet chuckled, but Chris groaned in exasperation. "Are you all even listening to me?"

Michael quickly waved a hand. "Of course, of course — go on!"

Satisfied, Chris continued, "So, according to this version of events, Vizet used the Levitation Charm to catch the troll's club midair, then hurled it back with such force that the troll's head exploded."

Michael let out a low whistle. "Now that's a story."

Chris wasn't finished. "But — plot twist! — the fallen troll wasn't dead. Instead, it came back to life as some sort of zombie and tried to take Vizet down with it."

"Sounds like a Fred and George special," Vizet muttered under his breath.

The Weasley twins had been witnesses to the fight. He wouldn't put it past them to add a few dramatic embellishments.

Chris pressed on, eyes gleaming with excitement. "At the last second, Vizet unleashed some kind of dark magic — black smoke curling around him and everything — and dissolved the zombie troll on the spot!"

Terry gave an amused huff. "A very Gryffindor version of the story. They love their heroic, one-on-one duels."

As they reached the greenhouse, they were greeted by the sight of a small group of Ravenclaw girls gathered near the entrance, chatting excitedly. Every now and then, one of them would glance toward the door, eyes full of anticipation — only to sigh in disappointment before turning back to their conversation.

That was, until Vizet and his friends stepped inside.

The moment they appeared, the girls fell into hushed silence. Then, as if on cue, they giggled and whispered to each other, throwing him curious glances.

Terry smirked and inclined his head toward them. "They came to interrogate us several times this morning. If Penelope hadn't stopped them, they probably would've stormed the dormitory looking for you."

Michael groaned, clutching his chest in mock heartbreak. "Why can't I be the topic of conversation for a change?"

Anthony snorted. "Maybe if you manage to get a 'Troll' in the final exams."

Chris nodded solemnly. "Exactly. A Ravenclaw getting a Troll would be legendary. You'd be famous for years."

Anthony grinned. "Not just among the girls — we'd never let you live it down either."

Michael rolled his eyes as the others burst into laughter

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The bell rang, and the chatter in the greenhouse quieted as Professor Sprout strode in, her wand in hand. Behind her, two large boxes hovered in midair — one a plain wooden crate, the other coated in thick black paint.

"Alright, children, time for class!" she called, her usual warmth tinged with something more serious today.

With a flick of her wand, the boxes settled gently onto the worktable. She dusted her hands off and addressed the students.

"Open One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi to page 726," she instructed. "Today, we'll be studying an exceptionally dangerous vine — the Devil's Snare."

A murmur of interest rippled through the students.

"They thrive in dark, damp places — rainforests, underground caverns, swamps thick with miasma… Anywhere moisture lingers, they can take root and flourish."

She gave the class a sharp look. "And remember — Devil's Snare is deceptively dangerous. They are cunning, patient, and — above all — masters of disguise."

Turning back to the table, she tapped her wand against the plain wooden box. With a soft click, the lid swung open, revealing a tangle of emerald-green vines, each about as thick as a wrist. They swayed gently, curling and uncurling like sleepy snakes.

"This," she gestured, "is a Flitterbloom — a harmless magical plant. Hardy, easy to care for, and rather forgiving. You could forget to water it for a month, and it would still be perfectly fine."

To demonstrate, she poured a bit of water over the vines. Instantly, the Flitterbloom reacted, its tendrils swaying in a delighted little dance, almost as if expressing gratitude.

Some students chuckled at the display, but their amusement was short-lived.

Professor Sprout straightened. "Now, step back," she warned, motioning for them to retreat several paces.

The lighthearted air in the greenhouse faded as she raised her wand. With a wave, she dimmed the entire room, plunging it into shadowy gloom, like dusk before a storm.

At the same time, the lid of the black wooden box creaked open.

From within, another set of vines spilled over the edges, looking almost identical to the Flitterbloom — lush green tendrils, the same gentle swaying motion, harmless in appearance.

A few students frowned, glancing between the two plants.

Professor Sprout's voice cut through the silence.

"This," she said, her tone weighty, "is Devil's Snare — but in disguise."

A ripple of unease passed through the class.

"To show you just how deceptive they can be," she continued, "watch closely."

With a flick of her wand, she transfigured a wad of parchment into a small, fluffy sheepdog. The bewitched animal gave a soft woof and began trotting hesitantly toward the Devil's Snare.

Every student in the greenhouse was transfixed.

Ordinarily, Professor Sprout was warm, patient, and cheerful, but today she was serious — almost stern. It made them uneasy. They held their breath, sensing that something was about to happen.

Vizet, ever alert, activated the Eye of Insight and the Guardian Meditation Method, sharpening his perception.

Through the magical eye's vision, the two plants before him shimmered faintly, their internal magical circuits flickering in his sight.

The Flitterbloom's aura was relaxed, its magic flowing loosely like a meandering brook. The Devil's Snare, however… it was different. Though it mimicked the same structure, its magic pulsed in tight, coiled patterns, like a predator lying in wait.

It was motionless now. Almost too still.

Then the sheepdog padded a step closer.

Twelve feet… eleven… ten…

The students tensed.

Five feet… four… three…

A single heartbeat of silence.

Then —

With terrifying speed, the Devil's Snare struck.

The once-green tendrils darkened, deepening to a sinister black-green. They shot forward like a nest of crazed serpents, coiling around the sheepdog in a suffocating grip.

There was no hesitation, no wasted movement — just pure instinct.

Tighter and tighter, the vines constricted, strangling the little creature. Its panicked yelps were muffled as it was crushed… before dissolving back into parchment scraps.

A few students gasped.

Professor Sprout, unfazed, stepped forward, her wand raised.

"Lumos."

A brilliant light flared at the tip of her wand, bathing the Devil's Snare in a golden glow.

The effect was immediate. The vines recoiled violently, writhing as though in agony, retreating into the dark box as if fleeing from a predator.

With a flick of her wrist, the lid snapped shut.

The greenhouse was silent.

Professor Sprout turned back to the class, her usual warmth returning in full. With a good-natured chuckle, she waved the parchment scraps playfully. "Lucky for us, our poor victim was just a paper towel, eh?"

A few nervous chuckles broke out.

Once the tension had eased, she clapped her hands together. "Now, as you saw, Devil's Snare is extremely dangerous. Its strangulation power is strong enough to kill fully-grown trolls."

That got their attention.

"But!" she added brightly, "it has a very simple weakness — light and warmth. Both will force it to retreat, as you just witnessed."

She smiled. "You've all learned the Lumos charm and the Fire-Making spell, haven't you? No worries if you haven't mastered them yet. Today, we'll be practicing both."