Following the lead of Headmistress Theodore Whitethorn, Harry, Darcie, Madam Villanelle, and the rest of the school walked out of the castle to the backside.
The Ilvermorny students were still alright, as they had seen the picturesque scene for years by now. Even Madam Villanelle maintained her composure as if it hadn't been her first time visiting this part of the Ilvermorny School, either.
Harry and Darcie, though, had to stop to fully take in the grandness.
It was like looking at a more massive, more magnificent, and more ancient version of the Whomping Willow, but much, much grander.
In front of them, washed by the soft, cold rays of the sun, was a tree.
It was like a Giant had ripped one of the largest trees from the Forbidden Forest and had replanted it here.
The tree was lush green with several branches that coiled out of the main trunk, resembling serpents. Even the bark of its massive trunk carried distinct grooves, unlike any tree they had ever seen — like dark serpents climbing up and down, thousands in number.
Despite its obvious serpent-like nature, there was a feeling to it, too.
Harry and Darcie could smell this feeling — like smelling the fresh herbs in the Herbology Class. It was extremely pleasant, refreshing, and had an instant soothing effect on their thoughts, calming them down from their recent mental turmoil.
This was Ilvermorny's myth.
This was the Snakewood tree!
"Mr. Potter." The Headmistress looked over her shoulder. "Whenever you are ready…"
Harry took a deep breath, tearing his gaze off the majestic display of ancient magic. He did not have any clue what it meant for Salazar Slytherin's wand to be sleeping. He did not know how a tree had sprouted from a wand, especially a tree so big and with such obvious magical properties. He didn't have the remotest idea how to wake it up, either, whatever that meant.
However, Harry did know one thing.
The Order of Black Phoenix needed the wand… somehow.
So, he had to do his best to get his hands on it, whether he understood it or not.
Harry looked at Madam Villanelle, who nodded at him, and took a deep breath before walking past the Headmistress, all the Ilvermorny students eyeing him with bated breath in the background.
It was one thing to pass the Test of the Four.
It was another thing entirely to claim the legacy, which had become a symbol of Ilvermorny's grandeur in the last few centuries, for oneself.
Yet, the resentment and hatred the eyes of Ilvermorny's students had carried only moments ago had diminished in intensity somewhat, getting replaced by mild curiosity.
Was it possible?
Could the ancient myth be awakened?
Were they going to witness the greatest miracle of, perhaps, a millennium today, right in front of their eyes?
Meanwhile, Harry, following his instincts, walked up to the massive tree.
He stood just at its foot, feeling utterly small in comparison.
Still, there was something about the tree, Harry noticed.
The rustling of its leaves was barely perceptible, as if the tree was trying to say something to him, but couldn't. The grooves on its bark felt deliberate, too, like the bad handwriting of a child that he could read only if he focused enough.
Harry didn't know when, but he had lifted his hand and placed it on the tree, zoning out.
At that moment, he had forgotten what he was even doing there.
All he cared about was understanding what the rustling of the wind and the grooves on its bark meant.
All he wanted was to listen to the tale the tree was trying to tell him.
But the tree was sleeping… almost dead… lost in ancient dreams… waiting… waiting for someone to wake it up.
So, fueled by this sudden desire to hear the tree, Harry opened his mouth and hissed, Wake up!
Suddenly, the wind abandoned Ilvermorny's grounds.
The Headmistress, the staff, Madam Villanelle, and all the students involuntarily took a deep breath, sensing the change in the environment.
As if that change wasn't noticeable enough, the sounds abandoned them, too.
The rustling of the leaves stopped.
The chirps of the birds and the whoosh of the distant wind stopped.
Standing amid the astounded group of wizards and witches, Darcie narrowed her eyes, too.
And then, just when it seemed that Harry Potter, the Chosen One, had resurrected an ancient myth, bringing it back from the pages of archaic history… it ended.
All the wind that had abandoned the grounds came rushing back and hit Harry squarely in the chest, sending him flying.
As Madam Villanelle swished her wand to prevent Harry from crashing into the rocks, the massive Snakewood tree shook, as if shaking off its leaves.
"Cough…" Harry gasped for breath, holding his chest as he gently landed on the ground.
He failed.
He failed to wake the tree up.
Loud murmurs suddenly overwhelmed the entire space as the students erupted, discussing his failure.
He could hear some laughs here and there, some shocked gasps, and some scoffs.
But most of it didn't matter against the stark reality that he failed to get the wand!
A hand landed on his shoulder, then. "Get up," Madam Villanelle said. "We still have a chance."
Yes…
It wasn't about his failure.
It was about their victory!
All the people watching him must have realized it, too, for the laughs, gasps, and scoffs came to a sudden halt.
As Madam Villanelle helped Harry up, his eyes met Darcie's.
You must do it, he said, failing to bring words to his mouth. And she understood, nodding at him.
"Ms. Malfoy…" Headmistress Theodore Whitethorn, openly carrying a small smile on her lips, asked, "… are you ready to have a go at it, too? Please remember that once you fail, once the Snakewood tree refuses your call, you will not get another chance, no matter if you return with Lord Black Phoenix himself. This is old magic… I have no control over it."
One chance… Darcie thought, walking past the old witch. …is all I need.