"… It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"
Harry returned to bed that night with the Headmaster's words replaying themselves constantly in his mind.
He had gone to see the Mirror again.
He had been hoping to be in his parents' company.
And then Professor Dumbledore had arrived, pouring cold water on him.
Letting out a sigh, Harry let his head sink into the pillow, a weight still pressing on his chest.
…
Next Morning,
Diagon Alley
"Darcie!" Florean Fortescue, owner of the Ice Cream Parlour, came running. "Try this!"
He was holding an ice cream cone, with pink, gold, and white colored cream over it.
The colors kept changing their orders, letting out tiny glitters. He had been working on new flavors for the Christmas Holidays since summer. And who better to try its uniqueness than Darcie Malfoy herself?
Good thing he caught her before she entered the Ollivanders shop. Or he might not see her again till evening.
Darcie took the ice cream, tasted it, and her brows. She tasted it again.
"Impressive, Mr. Florean!" she praised. "I think you have outdone yourself."
Florean beamed, his chest swelling. He looked around to see if others had heard the girl because that was a clear-cut way to boost the business. But people were too busy with Christmas shopping. The only gazes that came this way were to marvel at the Princess, he observed.
"Mr. Florean…"
"Ah!" he came to his senses. "Ah… yes, yes."
Darcie let out a small smile. "Can you pack a box for me?"
"Of course!" Florean replied, too eager to accept any request. "I will send it to Ms. Clutterbuck. Yes. Yes. You don't have to tell me. A box to Hogwarts as well. After Christmas, right?"
Darcie giggled.
She spun and hopped her way into the alley, enjoying the ice cream.
Darcie was having a fine feeling today. Very fine, indeed. She looked up at the clear sky, felt the lingering chill, and eyed the Wand shop. Mr. Ollivander was standing outside, already waiting for her.
I feel like today's as good a day as any to craft my first wand, Darcie thought, taking a deep, cold breath.
If she had to name the feeling, then it would surely be… lucky.
…
Bounded Field,
White Serpent Pirates' HQ
Tina. Code-named — Old Sage.
He was the Lead Protector of Hermione Granger. He also possessed the inheritance of Touko Aozaki from the Garden of Sinners. He was well-versed in Magical Crests, her mastery leaning toward puppets.
But, despite all this, he was weak.
In this place, despite being a Top-level 9th floor Contestant, he was weak. He was weaker than even Characters! And they weren't even as sophisticated as his puppets!
Speaking of puppets, he had recently gained a King Ghidorah, Category IV Kaiju-level, puppet from her last Main Mission as a reward.
But after the last fight among the White Serpent Pirates, it had been damaged. So, he needed to work on it more, it seemed.
For now, he had a simple, straightforward, task to accomplish — imbue the undead with pseudo-Magic Circuits, letting them last longer than their actual Mana Reserves.
… It was just… who had assigned him this task? Why?
The infinite Mystic Eyes of Enchantments making up his mindscape let out a brilliant, golden flash. Yet, Old Sage couldn't remember why he had come here and how.
Odd… Old Sage thought, a chill running down his spine. Truly odd…
Leaving the domed lab, Old Sage (as a hunched-back old mage) reached the Throne Hall of the White Serpent Tower.
The members were already having a meeting there.
"Even Okabe vanished today," Meg commented, looking at Red Sun. "Orochimaru and Cersei had disappeared a day ago. I… I am having a bad feeling about it."
Red Sun wanted to yawn but thought better of it.
Tina had an inkling of what was happening.
There were Contestants in this place. Then there were Characters. The latter ones were magical forms given life by the Grimoire shining like a black, flaming star in the sky.
It was just why the Grimoire wasn't birthing them again.
All Characters had disappeared one by one since yesterday. That was also odd…
"Why are we here?" Old Sage questioned, coughing. "Master."
Meg looked at her student and knew the girl's size complex was oozing out again. "Of course, we are here to…"
Meg frowned. She pressed her brows in confusion.
Suddenly, she looked around as if this was the first time she realized that she was here… in the Tower
Tower? What Tower? Meg asked herself, holding her head.
Spawn, sitting next to Meg, was also looking up at the ceiling in blatant confusion. Why was she here? Why wasn't she killing the Beast's Claws? Why… Why indeed?
Red Sun yawned. He was feeling sleepy. He got up and threw his hands inside his shorts pockets. Suddenly, he felt a crunch.
Pausing, he took out a piece of paper.
— Contact Darcie in case of any trouble. —
"Did you give me this?" Red Sun asked Meg.
Meg, feeling as if she needed to vomit the confusion out of her, shook her head. She read the words and passed the chit to Spawn, who also shook her head.
Simultaneously, the three lifted their heads and looked at Old Sage.
"Go to Diagon Alley," Meg ordered. "Act as a reporter and try to get Darcie Malfoy's interview. Understood? There's something… odd going on. See if you can get a sense of things from her…"
Old Sage's back hunched a bit more. "But I am too old…"
Meg glared and Old Sage hurriedly walked away, acknowledging the command.
…
Evening,
Diagon Alley
There was a little commotion in the Ollivanders shop.
On very short notice, both Daphne and Madam Villanelle had come over.
Old Ollivander was crying in a corner, his expressions changing between laughter and longing and pride and unknown.
After so many years, she had done it.
Darcie had crafted her first wand.
The three ladies looked at the 11 and a half inch Mahogany wand, their lips refusing to arch down.
"You might be the youngest witch to create a wand, dear," Madam Villanelle praised.
"Not might!" Garrick Ollivander thundered from the corner. "She is. Wizards and Witches combined. In the history of Wandmaking! I tell you!"
"Yes, yes," Madam Villanelle nodded. "Please take a breath, Mr. Ollivander."
The girls giggled.
"It's the simplest, of course," Darcie said, rolling the wand between her fingers. "It might be a stroke of luck, you know. I will know after I have crafted a dozen more."
Daphne and Madam Villanelle's lips twitched.
It was then Old Sage knocked on the door, controlling a womanly puppet from afar.
Over 6ft tall, the puppet was wearing a long skirt under a white shirt, her short blue hair neatly packed over her round glasses.
So, she had basically Tina's appearance, but as the girl imagined she needed to look at her age now.
"Cough! I am a reporter… Yeah. That's obvious. Ah… I would like to interview the lord… Lord? Lord? I mean… Ms. Darcie."
"…?"
Madam Villanelle held up a hand, stopping Darcie from replying.
"You cannot just barge in and demand an interview, Miss…" When the reporter didn't reply, the dark-skinned witch continued, "… Darcie is a student, first. Second, all journalists know that you need permission from the ministry to interview her. You are from which news agency."
"The White Serpent." The puppet nudged her glasses and winked at Darcie. Wink? Why did I wink?
"…?" Darcie.
"Can I see some ID?" Madam Villanelle asked, approaching the young woman.
The puppet laughed ruefully. "No. No. Please, don't send me back. The agency will fire me. Please. Ms. Darcie. Please. For 1 minute. Please."
"…?"
The girls, Madam Villanelle, and even Ollivander just gawked at the nameless journalist. She was crying.
"OK." Darcie nodded. "Please come with me."
"Sometimes you are too gentle, Darcie," Madam Villanelle complained, shaking her head. "I need to report this to the ministry. Excuse me." She again glared at the blue-haired woman while going out as if remembering her face.
Daphne had tactfully remained outside as Darcie brought the lady to the room where Ollivander stayed.
There, they chatted for a minute as Old Sage kept asking Darcie if she was feeling… odd somehow.
What happened next made the Puppet go silent.
Darcie sighed, looking beyond the woman. "I thought you didn't get my meaning, Mentor," she said, smiling, holding her wand.
The reporter looked over her shoulder and her eyes widened.
Madam Villanelle had returned with three more wizards. Aurors! She was also smiling, their wands out. "I knew what you were getting at Darcie. Now, Ms. Journalist. If you would just follow us without causing a ruckus. We have some questions for you."
Old Sage couldn't believe it.
Did the girl just… get the puppet arrested?!
**************
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