Ilvermorny settled into its own pace again just after e few weeks.
Students attended classes, complained about them. then wished for more classes.
Fila found her place in it easily. Mornings blurred into lessons, parchment, wandwork, and the low hum of concentrated magic. Afternoons were shared between study sessions that occasionally turned into conversations only loosely connected to schoolwork. Evenings carried the soft, golden comfort of the Thunderbird tower, where chairs were claimed early and tea appeared as if by instinct rather than spell. The winter outside remained stubborn, snow lingering along the grounds, though inside the castle warmth and routine made the season feel distant.
Transfiguration continued to be one of her quieter pleasures. Professor Merrick's assignments grew gradually more demanding, yet never overwhelming, each lesson building carefully upon the last. Milles still muttered at his objects as though negotiation might help, and June continued experimenting with size adjustments that produced results ranging from impressive to deeply impractical. Fila, more often than not, completed her work ahead of time and occupied herself with refinements. A smoother curve here. A decorative touch there. Not out of arrogance, though some might have argued otherwise, but because leaving things plain simply felt unfinished.
Her reputation for floral embellishments had only strengthened. Small blossoms occasionally appeared near her desk, along window ledges, once even curling subtly around the base of a candle during History of Magic. Professor Alder had paused mid lecture, peered over his spectacles, then continued without comment, though a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth suggested amusement rather than annoyance.
Thunderbird tower life remained lively in its own relaxed way. June's laughter echoed often, Calla's ongoing "casual disinterest" in Daniel fooled no one, and Fila's plants quietly multiplied whenever she allowed her attention to drift. The dormitory carried that gentle sense of shared existence, books scattered, robes draped carelessly over chairs, late night whispers stretching long past reasonable sleeping hours.
Fila didn't look into the book during her first weeks, but found herself sitting on her bed with it in her lap.
'Fila, I must say I like your flowers. And it seems you like them.' the book wrote, the text blurred after she had read them. but the text continued after a bit. 'you have a special gift Fila. Not everyone can use flowers like you do. Go to the Headmaster and request a book called Florae Arcanum.'
Fila's eyes narrowed slightly as the new line of ink settled onto the parchment. The letters were as elegant as ever, composed, deliberate, carrying that familiar tone of calm authority the book seemed incapable of abandoning. She read the title twice, rolling the unfamiliar name quietly through her thoughts.
'Alright I will do that tomorrow, its Saturday so I wont have classes'
The dormitory remained wrapped in its late evening stillness. June was sprawled comfortably across her bed, half buried beneath blankets, a parchment roll dangling loosely from her hand. Calla sat cross legged near the window, brushing her hair with slow, absent strokes, the soft repetitive motion as rhythmic as the faint crackle from the fireplace downstairs.
Fila looked back at the page.
'It will be… useful to you,' the ink continued.
That phrasing immediately sparked suspicion.
"Useful how?"
'In ways you will appreciate.' The book finished and closed slowly.
She brushed over the front of the book, as if dusting it off.
It felt weird to her, she had started this book to get better at elemental magic, and now the very book was telling her to get another book. Why couldn't the talking book just tell her about the things in that book.
The question got her head spinning with questions.
Fila flopped backward onto her mattress with a quiet sigh, staring up at the ceiling.
"Because nothing can ever be simple," she muttered under her breath.
Her mind refused to settle. Possibilities lined up one after another. Perhaps the knowledge required a physical connection. Perhaps certain magic could not be conveyed indirectly. Perhaps the book simply enjoyed being cryptic for its own amusement, which honestly would not have been surprising.
Or…
Maybe it wanted her to seek.
That thought lingered.
There was a difference between being told something and discovering it. Rowan's lessons often circled that idea. Experience anchored understanding. Effort shaped mastery. The book, irritating as it could be, had never truly handed her power. It nudged. Directed. Forced her to work for every inch of progress.
Still…
She turned her head slightly, glancing at the silent book beside her pillow.
"…You could at least give hints," she whispered.
No ink appeared.
Of course not.
Fila closed her eyes briefly, though sleep remained distant. Eventually curiosity dulled into tiredness, thoughts losing their sharp edges as fatigue crept in. Tomorrow was Saturday. No classes. No professors. No assignments waiting to ambush her before breakfast.
And apparently,
a visit to the Headmaster.
—
Morning arrived gently, sunlight filtering through frost traced glass. The dormitory stirred slowly, June stretching like a particularly disgruntled cat, Calla already halfway dressed and suspiciously energetic for a weekend.
Fila dressed without much comment, mind still orbiting the previous night's conversation.
She looked at Calla who seemed to have something going on. It was suspicious in it self that she was out of bed before ten in the morning on a Saturday. She is the type of person to sleep until lunch most of the time.
Fila didn't comment on it, she didn't want June to start teasing her either this early in the morning. And she wasn't about to ruin the mood for her.
The downstairs common room was relatively empty, some were sitting on the couches talking about nothing.
She crossed toward the tea table, pouring herself a cup with practiced ease. The warmth seeped pleasantly into her hands, grounding, familiar. As she turned, she spotted Theo sprawled across one of the couches, long legs occupying far more space than strictly necessary. He looked entirely at home, one arm draped over the backrest, expression balanced somewhere between relaxed and theatrically bored.
"Well, if it isn't Flower," he drawled without opening his eyes.
Fila smirked. "You're up early."
"I have been awake for hours."
"You're lying."
Theo cracked one eye open. "I have been awake for at least seven minutes."
"Impressive endurance."
He pushed himself upright with exaggerated effort. "Some of us do not have the luxury of waking up naturally cheerful."
"I am not naturally cheerful."
Theo gestured vaguely with one hand. "You literally grow decorative plant life before breakfast."
"That is not cheerfulness. That is habit."
Theo squinted at her over the rim of his cup. "Terrifying habit."
Fila laughed softly, settling into the chair opposite him. Around them the common room continued its slow drift of weekend activity. A pair of second years debated something with intense seriousness that absolutely did not match the triviality of their topic. Someone near the fire was negotiating with a stubbornly enchanted scarf that refused to stop changing colors.
"so you look like you have something to do, what is it?" he asked
The tea steamed in her cup as she held it. "I'm going to the headmaster to request a book"
Theo raised an eyebrow. "I quess its not in the library."
She shook her head.
He looked not so optimistic. "So, you expect the headmaster of Ilvermorny to just give you a rare book, just like that?"
Fila took a sip. "I'm going to ask politely of course." She said not thinking it was a big deal. He had already given her a sentient talking book.
"That has never been your strongest skill."
Fila nudged his foot lightly with her boot. "I have excellent manners."
Theo looked deeply unconvinced. "Debatable."
She laughed, setting her empty cup down. "Relax. I'll survive."
"I am not worried about you surviving."
"Oh?"
"I am worried about what you'll come back with."
Fila grinned. "Optimism looks strange on you."
Theo sighed dramatically. "Fine. Go. Expand your collection of mysterious magical literature. I'll be here doing something equally productive."
"Sleeping?"
"…Yes."
The hallways of the school were empty. No rushed students. No teachers patrolling, not even the paintings said much as she passed.
As she approached the upper levels, the air grew subtly warmer, the Headmaster's wing always held at a comfortable temperature regardless of season. The heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor stood exactly as it always did, polished to a soft sheen, brass fittings gleaming faintly.
Fila paused before it.
She was about to knock but, the door opened immediately before she even could.
"Ophelia, step in. I had a feeling you would visit soon." He said from behind his desk.
Headmaster or Professor Fontaine was a very loved headmaster, he often joined classes with the normal teachers to help teach. And even sat with students during lunch, and visited the houses to just talk and engage with the students.
Fila stepped into the office.
The office felt exactly as it always did: spacious yet comfortable, lined with shelves that held books of every imaginable size and temperament. Some volumes sat neatly arranged, others stacked in gently defiant piles that suggested ongoing research. Sunlight spilled through the tall window behind the desk, illuminating drifting snow beyond the glass. The air was warm without being heavy, scented faintly of parchment and polished wood.
He gestured lightly toward a chair. "Please, sit. No need to look as though you're awaiting judgment."
Fila relaxed into the seat, faintly embarrassed. "Sorry, sir."
He smiled. "Perfectly natural reflex."
There was a brief pause, though not an uncomfortable one. Fontaine folded his hands atop the desk, studying her with that attentive patience he seemed to possess in endless supply.
"Now," he said gently, "what brings you here on a Saturday morning?"
Fila hesitated only a fraction of a second. "I wanted to request a book."
"One of mine, I assume, since the library is quite well stocked."
"Yes, sir." She drew a small breath. "Florae Arcanum."
Fontaine's brows lifted ever so slightly.
"Ah," he murmured.
Fila caught the shift immediately. "You know it?"
"I do."
His chair creaked softly as he leaned back, gaze drifting briefly toward the shelves lining the far wall. Snowlight flickered across the lenses of his glasses, momentarily obscuring his eyes.
"That is not a title students often ask for," he continued. "or ever should I say, I assume that book asked you to request it?"
Fila nodded, she thought it was bad that she had asked for it.
The professor stood up and walked towards a run-down looking shelf. But he didn't take a book from it. he waved his hand and the bookshelf disappeared.
She felt her mouth open as she was surprised. The magic to conceal wasn't new, but it was something that wasn't witnessed every day, or any day.
He turned to her, "Well come" he said as he walked into the hidden vault.
She stood up hastily.
Fila followed him, her steps quick, curiosity effortlessly overpowering whatever composure she had tried to maintain. The space beyond the vanished shelf did not resemble a vault in the dramatic, treasure filled sense she might have imagined. Instead it felt… quiet. Intentionally so. A narrow circular chamber revealed itself, walls lined with carefully arranged volumes resting behind faintly shimmering protective charms. No dust. No clutter. Just an atmosphere of preserved stillness, as though even sound understood it should tread lightly here.
The Headmaster moved with easy familiarity, clearly having walked this space countless times. Fila, meanwhile, slowed without realizing it, her gaze drifting across titles embossed in fading gold, silver, and inks that seemed to shift when viewed too directly. Some books radiated subtle magic, others appeared deceptively ordinary, though she had already learned that appearances meant very little in places like this.
"It is not a forbidden book," Fontaine said calmly, answering the question she had not voiced aloud. "But, it is special. Only a select few has ever read it, and even fewer have understood it."
He stopped near the far side of the chamber, fingers hovering briefly before settling upon a dark green volume that blended so seamlessly with its neighbors it might have been invisible without intent. He drew it free with care rather than ceremony.
"Florae Arcanum."
Even up close it looked modest. No glow. No movement. Yet something about it carried a weight that had nothing to do with size.
Fontaine turned, extending it toward her, though his hand remained steady, unhurried.
"This book concerns botanical magic beyond standard Herbology curriculum. Not simply the growth of plants, but the conversation between magic and living structure."
Fila accepted it gently, surprised again by its solid heaviness.
"the book you have said that you need this, that means it knows you can use it. But be careful." He said with a small warning, it wasn't stern. But it was a warning because he cared for the safety of her.
The feeling inside her however, it was unbelievable. Just as her mother had taught her to love nature together with magic. She finally had something that could help her improve that.
Fila was so focused about being happy that she had let out happy thought all over the vault room.
Fontaine looked around the room and saw roses and green stems starting to grow out of the stone floor. he didn't stop her as he himself wanted to look at this spectacle. The girl in front of him was so immerged in the book that she didn't notice her magic coming out from just her happy thoughts were making plants grow and twist. And soon enough the vault looked more like a greenhouse.
"Ophelia…" the Headmaster finally said after he thought it was time to stop.
She snapped out of her trance state and saw the room now filled with different plants and flowers. She started to feel ashamed, she might have destroyed the whole room with so many rare books.
But to her surprise the headmaster in front of her just laughed. "You don't need to worry." He waved his wand, and soon the plants retreated into the cracks in the walls. "Good thing the book also teaches you to control just that"
Fila stood there, still clutching Florae Arcanum, cheeks faintly flushed.
"I'm so sorry, sir," she said quickly, eyes darting across the now perfectly restored chamber as though expecting a delayed catastrophe. "I didn't mean to…"
Fontaine dismissed the apology with an easy wave of his hand, amusement lingering warmly in his expression. "If my vault could be destroyed by enthusiasm, it would have perished decades ago."
Fila blinked. "…Decades?"
"Oh yes," he said lightly. "You would be amazed what curious students and overly confident professors have subjected this room to."
Her shoulders eased a little, though embarrassment still clung stubbornly. She glanced down at the book, fingers brushing the cover with something closer to reverence now.
Fontaine observed her quietly for a moment before continuing, his tone shifting into something gently instructive rather than formal. "What happened just now was not accidental magic in the usual sense. It was resonance. Your emotional state aligned with your magical affinity."
Fila looked up. "Because I was happy?"
"Because you were genuinely connected." He gestured loosely to where the roses had bloomed moments earlier. "Plants, especially magically receptive ones, respond strongly to intention and feeling. Most witches and wizards must project that deliberately. You…"
He smiled again.
"…appear to broadcast."
Fila let out a small, breathless laugh. "That sounds dangerous."
"It can be," he admitted calmly. "Though it can also be extraordinary."
They began walking back toward the entrance, the vault already settling into its preserved stillness behind them. The concealed doorway shimmered faintly before the shelves reappeared seamlessly, as though nothing unusual had occurred.
Back in the office, the sunlight felt brighter somehow.
Fila remained standing this time, still absorbing everything. "Why isn't it in the library?"
"Because it is not written for general study," Fontaine replied. "Some books teach information. Others teach perspective. Florae Arcanum requires a certain… compatibility."
He adjusted his glasses slightly.
"And patience."
Fila nodded slowly. "The other book said I would appreciate it."
Fontaine chuckled softly. "It rarely exaggerates."
There was a comfortable pause before he added, "Take your time with it. Do not rush. Botanical magic is less about command and more about conversation."
She turned toward the door, then hesitated. "Thank you, sir."
"You are quite welcome, Ophelia."
As she stepped into the corridor, the quiet of the weekend halls wrapped around her again. The castle seemed half asleep, the usual weekday energy replaced by drifting calm. And tucked securely against her side rested the new book, its presence solid, promising, faintly mysterious.
Her steps became quicker and she almost started skipping steps to get to her room to start reading.