Still marvelling at what he was seeing, Vincent watched as the white cat packed the base of the wand snugly with those clumps of soil, then pressed one small, muddy, pink paw against the wood.
In an instant, a blinding flash of light burst from the tip of the wand.
Vincent was even more astonished. Good grief — even the cat can fire off a Lumos with it?! You'll accept anyone, won't you? You've got even less standards than an Elder Wand!
Moments later, the soil at the base of the wand began to stir. Slender green shoots pushed up out of the earth, rapidly growing and unfurling into leaf after broad, vivid leaf.
Within a few minutes, every patch of soil in the room had erupted in a lush tangle of catnip.
"MEOW!!!"
The white cat let out a triumphant cry, flung itself face-first into the catnip, wrapped both front paws around as much of it as possible, and proceeded to inhale deeply while taking little bites — completely dissolving into the greenery, eyes glazed over, all four limbs twitching blissfully.
The unmistakable picture of a creature that had just gotten absolutely, spectacularly high.
"..."
I want to report this. There is a cat doing drugs in public view.
But the cat had absolutely no time for his concerns. It writhed through the catnip like a caterpillar, rubbing itself against the wand from every possible angle, periodically letting out low, contented little moans.
Vincent nudged it with his foot. "Are you alright?"
"Meow~"
It stretched all four limbs out as far as they would go, gave the most luxurious full-body yawn imaginable, flopped over, and was asleep within seconds.
"Fine. You can stay here tonight. Bernadette can deal with you tomorrow."
The following morning.
When Vincent woke up, the cat was curled into a tight ball at the foot of the bed, clutching a large armful of catnip leaves, showing absolutely no signs of waking any time soon.
He washed up, went down for breakfast, and on his way back brought a few pieces of fried fish, which he set down beside the cat's nose.
Still fast asleep, it twitched its nose. Then, without even opening its eyes, it lunged forward and snapped up the fish, chewed steadily, swallowed the lot — and promptly rolled over and went back to sleep.
As the hour of exchange drew near, Vincent stepped into the Realm of Chaos and stood before the great levitating Scale, waiting for Bernadette.
Before long, golden mist poured from the Scale, and Bernadette's hazy silhouette took shape within it.
Vincent opened the "call." Across the divide, the two of them talked. First they confirmed the timing of the upcoming exchange — making sure there would be no mistakes — then settled into idle conversation.
"A white cat showed up last night. Do you know it?"
Bernadette's eyes narrowed slightly. "Did it seem particularly drawn to my wand?"
"It was. Though I imagine most cats would be, given the circumstances."
"Why?"
"Have you forgotten? That wand of yours makes catnip grow from the surrounding soil. And catnip is — think of it as a cigarette. Or a cigar. For cats. It makes them feel relaxed and happy, and it's mildly addictive."
Bernadette paused. So that's it. No wonder Ollivander had mentioned it always seemed to attract stray cats and Snufflers.
"It also seems to be a magical creature of some kind. Its belly has the same spatial storage pouch that Snufflers have."
Ah — then it's definitely that cat.
And here I thought this wooden stick had some deep secret to it. After all that... it's just a giant catnip cigarette to cats? How thoroughly unexpected.
"It also appears to have some degree of magical ability. It used your wand to cast the Lumos charm — which seems to be how it gets the catnip to grow."
"???"
Bernadette blinked. "So... the Lumos charm is an inherent ability of that wand itself?" She had assumed that some peculiarity in her own nature had interacted with the wand to produce the effect.
"The cat is clearly no ordinary creature, though — it seems to possess abilities belonging to other magical creatures as well, and it can use magic on its own. You should take a closer look at it when you get the chance."
"Hmm..."
She made a sound of acknowledgement and asked, "Is it unusual in your world for a magical creature to be able to use magic?"
"Not entirely... but if you set aside house-elves and goblins, it is rather uncommon."
Bernadette's thoughts jumped. "Actually — that cat can also change its fur colour. The first time I saw it, it was orange. When I caught it in the act of stealing from me, it turned white on the spot."
"Oh?"
Vincent rubbed his chin. "Colour-changing. Another ability."
He had suspected earlier that someone might have crossbred a Snuffler with a Kneazle. Now add colour-changing to the list...
Suddenly, his consciousness began to blur. He felt his body growing lighter at a startling rate, until within a single heartbeat he could no longer sense his own existence.
Then black, white, and grey flooded his vision — the colours that only came when entering or leaving the Realm of Chaos.
Am I being forcibly ejected at the moment of exchange?
At that same instant, a familiar sensation surged up — one he hadn't felt in some time. The same feeling that came when he was devouring another person's soul.
But why? No one nearby had died. He hadn't willed himself to devour anyone.
Before he could make sense of it, the black, white, and grey dissolved. Vincent had crossed over into Bernadette's body in the world of Lord of the Mysteries. And then, in the same breath, a translucent figure came flying directly at him — it was Bernadette. Her soul.
We were exchanging souls inside the Realm of Chaos...
How did it come to this?!
His expression changed drastically. He immediately fired off rapid mental commands to cut off the soul-devouring impulse. Setting aside whether he even wanted to devour Bernadette's soul — with her Spirit Body at Sequence 3 intensity, swallowing it whole would likely annihilate him on the spot.
On the other side.
The moment Bernadette's consciousness blurred, she felt a tremendous pulling force tear at her soul and drag it toward the door of the Realm.
Black, white, grey — and then she was back in reality, still in her own world, but she had not returned to her body. Instead she hung suspended in midair, formless, like a wraith.
Before she could make sense of what had happened, that pulling force seized her again, compelling her back toward her own body. Just then, "she" opened her eyes — and in the instant their gazes met, "her" expression turned to shock and bewilderment. Bernadette's spirituality exploded, screaming of danger.
She immediately threw all her strength against the body's pull, and with her free hand wrenched open a hidden compartment and retrieved the Sage's Diadem. As she ignited her spirituality, her soul instantly converted into a stream of information.
She split the information-stream state of her soul decisively in two — using one half to resist the pulling force, while the other half seized the opportunity to retreat in the opposite direction.
The next moment —
The Sage's Diadem was struck by a terrifying force. It twisted violently — and shattered.
"!!!"
Bernadette's consciousness snapped to full clarity. She jolted upright with wide open eyes.
She was sitting in her room at Hogwarts. Outside the window, a cool breeze drifted through, and somewhere in the distance, young witches and wizards were cheering.
The entire world was quiet and peaceful.
As if everything she had just experienced had been nothing but a dream.
She knew it was all real. She closed her eyes and felt the deep weakness emanating from the core of her soul, murmuring softly: "So... the me that exists right now... has only half a soul left?"
And the other half?
Was it still intact on the other side — or had it been torn apart by that distorting force and scattered into nothing?
To be continued…
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