While Tina took a short nap, Newt wandered over to the window, summoning a rocking chair with a flick of his wand.
He propped his chin on his hand, gazing out at the sea serpent outside. Its rolling, twisting silhouette carved breathtaking arcs through the water, and a quiet smile of wonder spread across his face.
"Praise the ocean! Nature's greatest magic, right before our eyes. No matter how many times I see it, it never stops amazing me…"
Just then, a spark of fire flickered beside him. The flames blossomed and, from their heart, Dumbledore stepped out, calm and unhurried.
He wore deep blue silk robes, the hems embroidered with intricate silver runes that shimmered in the firelight. Atop his head perched a matching pointed hat, adorned with stars and crescent moons.
The firelight swirled and condensed, transforming into the magnificent form of Fawkes the phoenix.
Newt didn't look the least bit surprised by Dumbledore's arrival. He even extended his arm, letting Fawkes settle gracefully on his sleeve. "The sunset's glow is always stunning. Fawkes must be nearing another rebirth, I'd wager."
"I never expected I could keep something like this from you," Dumbledore said, tapping his wand gently. An armchair materialized behind him.
Newt laced his fingers together, rocking his chair gently—creak, creak. "I thought you'd be tied up at the Ministry of Magic for a while."
"Ah, the leisurely life of retirement, is it?" Dumbledore watched the rhythmic motion, then tapped his own chair, which shifted into a rocking chair to match. "Somewhat enviable, I must say."
Both chairs began to creak in harmony, the sound filling the quiet room.
Listening to the rhythm, Newt smiled faintly. "So, the Department of Mysteries wants you in Sweden too?"
"Stockholm," Dumbledore confirmed with a nod. "Rather a coincidence—we're headed to the same place."
The two had met just days before, intending to discuss the situation with the Obscurial. But their conversation had barely begun when an owl interrupted, delivering a letter from the Department of Mysteries. They'd requested Dumbledore's presence for a series of inquiries—worded, as always, in their signature cryptic style.
"What's really happened?" Newt asked, frowning. "I'm here on invitation from the Swedish Ministry, to investigate a recently sighted Obscurial."
Dumbledore countered, "Do you think… it might be your lost Obscurial?"
"You should answer my question first." Newt closed his eyes, lips pressed tight, making it clear he wouldn't be so easily led.
After years of dealing with Dumbledore, he'd learned this was the only way to avoid being drawn into one of the man's verbal snares.
Dumbledore sighed, steepling his long fingers. "What a pity!"
"I'd love to tell you more… but I'm bound by a magical confidentiality contract with the Department of Mysteries. I can't share the details."
"Keeping secrets so gleefully—you look positively delighted," Newt chuckled, shaking his head. "You've rarely set foot outside England in recent years."
"You're here because you're headed to Stockholm… to protect that child—Wyzett Lovegood, isn't that right?"
"No," Dumbledore replied, shaking his head gently. "I'm here strictly on Department business."
"So far, there's no evidence that Wyzett is connected to my assignment. In fact, his presence here is rather unexpected."
"He's just on holiday," Newt murmured. "A distant relative of Tina's—his classmate, actually."
Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with understanding. "Ah… Mr. Anthony Goldstein, same year as Wyzett."
Newt smirked. "You certainly keep a close watch on Wyzett Lovegood."
"That much is true, but I really am here for work," Dumbledore replied with easy good humor.
"I see—so you just happen to be on the same ship," Newt said, shaking his head. "Are you planning to meet Wyzett?"
"Not at all." Dumbledore waved a hand, firm. "Let me say it again—I have no intention of protecting him. This is pure coincidence."
"I'd be a fool to take your word for it," Newt raised an eyebrow. "I know you, after all. I know exactly what kind of person you are."
"You make me sound rather dangerous," Dumbledore sighed, still smiling. "It's a little sad, hearing such things from a student I hold in high regard…"
"Don't say that!" Newt protested, waving his hands. "That sort of talk got me into plenty of trouble back in the day!"
"Well, I should be off." Dumbledore stood, and his rocking chair vanished with a soft pop. "I only stopped by to say hello. Enjoy your journey."
Newt closed his eyes again, rocking gently. "Enjoy your journey."
As Fawkes burst into firelight once more, Newt opened his eyes. "So, is your favorite student now… Wyzett?"
Dumbledore paused, glancing back with a mysterious, knowing smile.
He gave a little wave, and vanished into the flames.
Just as the guide had promised, the dining hall took up nearly two-thirds of the middle deck—its scale rivaled the Great Hall at Hogwarts, though it was arranged buffet-style.
Unlike the Great Hall, where meals appeared by magic, here you could help yourself, or ask for a house-elf to cook something fresh to order.
Several house-elves in chef's hats stood behind the counters, eyes downcast and expressions humble, ready to prepare any dish exactly as requested.
With The Vasa sailing beneath the sea, seafood was naturally the star—scallops, prawns, crabs, and fillets of fish were artfully arranged on platters of enchanted ice, sending up delicate wisps of frost. There was an endless array of sides as well.
But it wasn't just seafood: meats, salads, sweets, candies, and ice cream were all available in abundance.
Xenophilius was still resting in the cabin, so it was just Wyzett and Luna who made their way to the dining hall.
They piled their plates with seafood and meat, then found an empty table for two.
As Wyzett poured sauce over his steak, he caught snatches of conversation from the next table.
"Sounds like quite a mess… Something happened in Sweden."
"What happened?"
"An Obscurial attacked the Swedish Ministry of Magic. They've apparently sent out a whole squad of Aurors…"
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