The tremors were noticed. Impossible to ignore. But the sixteen year old had resolved after the embarrassment that had been the first task (Disillusioned or not when her breakdown had occurred) that she would not let any kind of sensory reflex overload her senses and cripple her again. This was not an earthquake. This was simply the Whomping Willow attempting to throw a tantrum but being unable to do so. It would get over it.

Finishing her circling of the tree and emptying the contents of the watering can, Valerie took a few cautious steps back with her wand drawn to assess just how effective the brew had been. Would the Willow respond at all (although she was confident in some sort of response)? Would it attempt to hug her or brain her silky white hair or something equally absurd with those massive branches? Ultimately, Valerie found herself relieved. Not in the sense that her potion had failed (because it had not) but in that apparently the Whomping Willow’s version of friendly was that its branches became like overcooked spaghetti. Good. She had not wanted to put up with the tree hugging her to its bosom or anything remotely resembling such touchy feely sentiments. This was a version of friendly she could tolerate (something a few of her Ilvormornian acquaintances could learn).

Discarding the watering can over her shoulder and ignoring its clank as it hit and rolled away on the ground, she approached the tree once more. Her steps were a little less cautious (but not complacent) as she circled around the base like a lioness hunting her prey as her eyes studied each root and the way it wove around others and the surrounding foliage. She soon found what she was looking for (or rather the Whomping Willow shared with her given its now benign state). Grinning to herself, Valerie knelt down before the hole and peered inside. Naturally, the only way she would be able to see anything down in this human-sized hole would be to climb inside. Something she need not be told twice.

And if she really did require the reminder she could simply walk back over to her cauldron and read that ridiculous note at the bottom. Which she certainly did not.

Bitter taste of Hogwarts favoritism returning to her mouth, she gave her wand a wave to conjure a humble sampling of bluebell flames and followed up with a Supersensory Charm on herself in lieu of transfiguring more owl features again. She vaguely recalled this passageway leading to a shack of some sort, but outside of these vague parameters the Wampus could hardly recall much as the topic had hardly occupied much of her textbook and it was only through some additional digging during animagus training that she had learned of its association there.

Giving the scene behind her a cursory glance, Valerie sent the bluebell flames down into the dark passageway first and slipped in immediately behind.