The inn run by Annie Salu was called the Fiderot, its architecture standing out from the surrounding buildings with a distinctly English flair.
As Annie led Wyzett and the others inside, they were greeted by a warm, golden glow that filled the entrance hall.
The décor, too, echoed the charm of the English countryside—magical oil paintings hung on the walls, capturing rolling fields and villagers at work, scenes that felt lifted straight from rural England.
The lobby boasted a wide stone fireplace, armchairs clustered cozily around it, and a few sets of polished mahogany tables and chairs beside the tall windows.
For reasons he couldn't quite explain, Wyzett found himself enveloped by a sense of Hogwarts nostalgia.
The guest rooms at the Fiderot Inn reinforced this impression—the sitting area resembled a miniature version of the Great Hall, complete with its own little hearth. Each room featured a four-poster copper bed draped with green, silver-trimmed curtains, and came equipped with a bookcase and a sturdy writing desk.
If the curtains had been blue and embroidered with an eagle, it could have passed for a Ravenclaw dormitory.
Xenophilius was thoroughly pleased, clapping the guide on the shoulder. "Impressive! It must've taken some effort to get the inn to redecorate like this, eh?"
The guide puffed out his chest. "Next time you're in Scandinavia, remember Viking's Home. We guarantee you'll feel right at home!"
"You all settle in and rest for a bit. I'll go let Mr. Ominis know you've arrived. We can start the afternoon's adventure after lunch."
Xenophilius beamed. "Perfect!"
Once the guide had left, he scratched his head, a note of confusion in his voice. "When did it change to this style...? Last time I was here, it was all traditional Swedish!"
...
After seeing off their diligent guide, Xenophilius rubbed his hands together, brimming with anticipation. "Once Mr. Ominis arrives, we can finally go looking for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack!"
"Dad, you're the best! I'm finally going to see a Crumple-Horned Snorkack!" Luna was so excited she grabbed her father's hand and spun him in a giddy dance around the room.
Wyzett sat at the table nearby, a smile on his face but a shadow of concern in his eyes.
The elderly woman he'd seen out on the lake was, incredibly, the innkeeper herself.
And the inn's interior, with its Hogwarts-like touches, seemed almost too deliberate to be coincidence.
He glanced at a small bulletin board on the wall, where a blurry Swedish Ministry of Magic wanted poster was pinned.
The moving image depicted a cloud of black mist erupting skyward, tearing through buildings in its path. Beneath it was a line of text: "Report any sightings of an Obscurial—verified information earns a reward of one hundred Galleons. Fill out your details below..."
"Tempting, isn't it?" Xenophilius pulled out a chair and sat down. "But don't worry, it's only a hundred Galleons. We wouldn't dream of selling you out."
Luna pulled up a chair across from Wyzett. "Is this about what happened on the boat? I guess it wasn't Wrackspurts after all."
"You already chased all the Wrackspurts away." Wyzett gave a small smile.
Luna always seemed to know what he was thinking.
Seeing the concern in her eyes, Wyzett let out a quiet breath. "I saw a figure out on the lake—the innkeeper, Annie Salu. She was holding white lilies, probably in mourning... She looked so sorrowful. Then, in a blink, she vanished. I thought maybe I'd imagined it."
"Is that so?" Xenophilius stroked his chin. "No worries! We'll look for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack this afternoon, and when we're back for dinner, I'll ask her about it for you."
Wyzett frowned slightly. "Mr. Lovegood, wouldn't that be a bit forward?"
"I'm the editor-in-chief of The Quibbler," Xenophilius waved it off. "This place is steeped in history—there's bound to be some juicy stories. Of course I want to see if I can dig up something fun for the magazine. We're here, after all. Got to make those Galleons count, right?"
Wyzett nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Lovegood."
Setting aside his unease about Annie Salu, Wyzett had to admit: staying in this wizarding village was a genuine pleasure.
After lunch, with Ominis yet to arrive, Wyzett and Luna strolled outside the inn, wandering along the cobbled paths to help their meal settle.
Only now did Wyzett notice the Swedish Ministry of Magic wanted posters scattered around the village—he'd missed them before, distracted as he was by the clown performer.
Luna skipped happily beside him, occasionally reaching up to brush her fingers through the floating motes of light, watching as they slipped through her palm and drifted gently to the ground.
Everything—people and scenery alike—felt touched by a dream.
As an ancient wizarding village, the place brimmed with Ancient Magic. During their walk, Wyzett quietly mapped the area in his mind, gathering the ambient magical power that saturated the land.
He'd come to a new place and amassed a trove of Ancient Magic—naturally, he was eager to unlock a new spell.
Half-closing his eyes, Wyzett channeled the gathered energy into The Wizard's Practical Combat Guide.
Streams of silver-blue light poured into the book. He could feel the pages shuddering violently—surely a sign that something powerful was about to be revealed.
But when the book finished absorbing the magic, no new content appeared. The disappointment was abrupt.
He closed his eyes, thinking back. "This is the first time... I've ever needed so much Ancient Magic to unlock a page."
"No, wait! There was that time at the start of term... All the magic from Diagon Alley went into unlocking the Oculus Magicae."
Luna placed a gentle hand on his, giving it a small shake. "We should head back. I see Dad waving at us."
Wyzett blinked, returning to the present, and looked toward the Fiderot Inn.
Standing beside Xenophilius was an elderly man in green-trimmed robes.
He was unlike most people—his gray-blue eyes were unfocused, almost clouded, giving him an air of distant mystery. His face was pale, the wrinkles marking the passage of years but doing nothing to diminish the innate nobility in his bearing.
He lifted his wand in a slight, courtly bow. "Greetings. You may call me Ominis. I'm the one who provided the information about the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."
Wyzett and Luna exchanged glances, then both turned to Xenophilius, silent questions in their eyes.
Xenophilius looked equally puzzled. He touched his nose and gave a small cough before asking, "You mentioned before that you obtained its horn... Would you mind showing us?"
"Of course, no trouble at all!" Ominis smiled and turned toward the inn. "Annie, would you bring me the Crumple-Horned Snorkack's horn, please?"
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