HP: Transmigrating as an Obscurial

Primordial Magic: Shield

The light spread out in a wave, painting him in shimmering hues. A spherical barrier materialized, translucent yet unyielding, encasing both him and Hagrid.

Vizet glanced at the stunned smugglers and spoke softly, his voice calm but laced with an edge. "The reporter was obviously not there to see it for themselves," he began, stretching his thumb and index finger apart in a deliberate motion.

The barrier expanded outward, stopping just short of the black-robed wizard and his crew, as if daring them to cross its boundary.

Smiling coldly, Vizet's voice grew louder, more menacing. "I backed the runespoor into a corner and crushed it, bit by bit, using this magic. Care to see how it works in real-time?"

He let his gaze sweep over the group, pausing just enough on each of them to make them squirm. "Feel free to resist if you like. I can still control my magic — for now. But if I activate the Obscurus..." He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the cold, damp air. "Well, I make no promises about what might happen."

The air grew tense, heavy with the unspoken threat. Vizet's lips curled into a subtle smirk as he continued, "The location here is perfect — one straight path. If it were to go wrong... let's just say the Obscurus would have plenty of room to stretch its legs."

The smugglers' fear was palpable. Sweat beaded on the black-robed wizard's forehead, his usually sharp demeanor cracking. His three accomplices shifted nervously, their courage visibly faltering.

"Boss... this doesn't feel right" one muttered.

"Should we just fight? There are four of us — surely, we can handle them!" another whispered, though his voice lacked conviction.

The third scoffed uneasily, "He's bluffing! This whole Obscurus thing sounds like nonsense. I don't even know what it is!"

The black-robed wizard's patience snapped. "Shut up!" he roared, glaring at them. "Bluff or not, did you miss the wandless spellcasting? How many kids do you know who can pull that off?"

He threw the crumpled newspaper Vizet had handed them earlier at his companions. "Read it yourselves!"

Beads of sweat rolled down his temples as he shifted his attention back to Vizet. Regret flickered across his face. If only he'd sent this boy away sooner. Now, they were stuck between a cerberus and an Obscure, and neither option felt survivable.

The shield's silver-blue light pulsed gently, steady as the smugglers' anxiety grew. Finally, the black-robed wizard gritted his teeth and growled, "What do you want?"

Vizet released the shield with a casual wave, stepping forward with slow, deliberate steps. He stopped just short of the smugglers, letting the faintest smirk curl his lips.

"I want to go home," he said simply, his voice light, as though he were asking for the time of day. "That's all."

The simplicity of the request caught them off guard, but it was clear that none of them were about to take any chances. The smugglers shuffled back instinctively, their retreat halting only when their backs pressed against the cerberus still soundly asleep behind them.

Their fear told Vizet everything he needed to know. The smugglers understood what an Obscure was — and what one could do.

He owed Rita Skeeter for this. Her exaggerated report in the Daily Prophet had done all the heavy lifting, painting him as a volatile force of nature. For once, her sensationalism had worked in his favor.

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"By the way," Vizet said casually, pointing at the cerberus cub sprawled behind the smugglers. "How much are you planning to sell that to Hagrid for?"

The black-robed wizard blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "You're still willing to buy it?" he asked, voice tinged with disbelief. "Four hundred Galleons! It's a cerberus cub — its eyes haven't even opened yet!"

Vizet turned to Hagrid with a questioning look. "Hagrid, is a cerberus cub really worth that much?"

His understanding of the creature was limited to the details in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which focused more on precautions than pricing. Hagrid, however, was the Hogwarts gamekeeper and likely an expert in magical creatures.

Hagrid's eyes lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Worth it? It's a steal at that price! I didn't see deals like this when I was traveling in Greece!"

The black-robed wizard visibly relaxed, letting out a long breath. "See? Even he knows it's a fair price. Four hundred Galleons it is! We won't ask for a Knut more."

Vizet sighed inwardly. For someone who towers over most people, Hagrid has the negotiating skills of a flobberworm. They were in a position of power — there was no reason to settle for the smugglers' terms.

Perhaps it was a hallmark of wizards raised in the magical world, or maybe it was just Hagrid's gentle nature, but he seemed oblivious to the concept of haggling. Vizet, however, was not.

"Four hundred Galleons is outrageous," Vizet said flatly, crossing his arms. "Considering how you obtained it, I doubt you're in a position to demand anything close to that."

The black-robed wizard stiffened, his eyes narrowing. "What are you implying?"

Vizet tilted his head toward the cub. "Cerberuses are rare and dangerous magical creatures. Legally acquiring one involves a mountain of paperwork and inspections. It's not just about the purchase price — it's about meeting all the regulations. But from the looks of things, you didn't exactly go through the proper channels."

This information came straight from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which outlined the stringent requirements for adopting such a creature.

The black-robed wizard tried to feign ignorance, shaking his head furiously. "I don't know what you're talking about! Four hundred Galleons is already a bargain!" He cast a desperate glance at Hagrid. "Big guy, back me up! It's a cub, a proper beauty! Don't you want to be its owner?"

Hagrid hesitated, his large hands fidgeting nervously. "Well... it is a cub," he murmured, glancing uncertainly at Vizet. "But... er... I'll let him decide."

Vizet extended his right hand, palm up. "Two hundred Galleons. That's the most we're willing to pay."

The black-robed wizard reeled as if struck. "Two hundred Galleons? You might as well kill us! That's robbery!"

Vizet rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm... that's not a bad idea." His tone was casual, but the implications were anything but. "This dark alley would be perfect for it, wouldn't it?"

"Vizet!" Hagrid yelped, looking panicked. "Calm down! You're a good boy!"

"Yes, yes!" the black-robed wizard chimed in hastily, sweat dripping from his face. "The big guy's right! Let's calm down and discuss this reasonably!"

Vizet didn't move, his hand still outstretched. "Two hundred Galleons," he repeated, his voice even.

"Three hundred and ninety Galleons!" the black-robed wizard countered, his tone frantic. "That's the lowest we can go!"

Vizet arched a brow. "One hundred and ninety. If you had a real bottom line, you wouldn't have held me hostage in the first place."

"You—" The black-robed wizard's face twisted in frustration, but he gritted his teeth and relented slightly. "Three hundred and eighty Galleons! That's final!"

"One hundred and seventy," Vizet replied smoothly, glancing at their tattered robes. "Judging by the state of your clothes, I'd wager you've been sleeping outdoors for a while. Maybe even on the run?"

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make the smugglers shiver. "What happened in Greece? Did you commit a crime there? Is that why you're hiding out here with the cub? If so, you're not exactly in a position to negotiate."

The black-robed wizard flinched as if struck. His accomplices exchanged uneasy glances but remained silent.

Finally, the black-robed wizard's voice rose, sharp and desperate. "Fine! We brought it here illegally, but you can't just keep lowering the price like this! People like us got to make a living too!"

Vizet smiled faintly, his calm demeanor unshaken. "One hundred and fifty Galleons," he said, his tone final. "As I said, a 'bottom line' is always flexible..." — especially for people like you.

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Under the silver glow of the full moon, Hagrid walked through the narrow cobblestone streets with a wide grin stretched across his face. On his massive shoulders, the cerberus cub lay comfortably, its three heads occasionally twitching as it slept soundly. Beside him, Vizet trailed behind, pulling a small trailer loaded with Hagrid's purchases from Diagon Alley.

"Vizet, thank you so much for today!" Hagrid said, his booming voice carrying through the quiet alley. "If it weren't for you, I might still be stuck in Knockturn Alley — or worse!"

He paused, fumbling around in the deep pockets of his coat before pulling out a beautifully embroidered cloth bag. "Blimey, they almost scared me to death back there! They wanted to search me, but no way was I letting them get their grubby hands on this!"

Inside the bag was Vizet's wallet, entrusted to Hagrid for safekeeping.

The arrangement had been simple but strategic. Hagrid had brought the runespoor to the smugglers, and in return, Vizet entrusted him with the money they'd earned — a sign of trust. For all his naivety, Hagrid was an honest man, and his magical smock provided resistance to most forms of thievery, making it the safest place for the gold.

Vizet retrieved the wallet from Hagrid, tucking it securely into his robe. As he did, Hagrid let out a long sigh of relief, his expression softening.

"So," Hagrid said cheerfully, looking up at the sky as they walked, "what do you think this little cutie should be called?"

Vizet glanced at the cerberus, its three heads dozing peacefully. "I don't know... I've never been great at naming things," he admitted with a shrug. "But it's furry, and... well, kind of cute in its own way."

Hagrid's eyes lit up with excitement. "Cute, you say? That's it, then! We'll call 'im Fluffy!" He beamed, gently stroking the cerberus' back with his enormous hand. "Fluffy, what do you think, eh? That a good name for ya?"

As if on cue, the cerberus stirred, one of its heads letting out a soft snort. Slowly, all three pairs of eyes blinked open, looking groggy but alert.

"Woof?" one of the heads barked tentatively, its voice surprisingly soft for such a fearsome creature.

However, as Hagrid continued walking, Fluffy's first fully focused gaze wasn't directed at him but at Vizet, trailing behind with the trailer. The cerberus' six eyes locked onto him, and its heads tilted curiously.

"Hagrid," Vizet said, his tone calm but edged with a hint of unease, "Fluffy is awake."