Each year, the Great Pumpkin rises out of the pumpkin patch that he thinks is the most sincere. He’s gotta pick this one. He’s got to. I don’t see how a pumpkin patch can be more sincere than this one. You can look around and there’s not a sign of hypocrisy. Nothing but sincerity as far as the eye can see.
In a secluded area of Mount Hiei, shrouded in mist, the Japanese Institute for Magical Practices spirals gracefully into the sky. The school is a series of elegant pagodas built to impossible heights with a multitude of connecting bridges crisscrossing like a bird’s nest. On the ground is an elaborate garden with a sprinkling of ponds. A kaleidoscope of fish zigzag through the water, sometimes even taking to the air like birds due to rather peculiar abilities gained over time through overexposure to magic. Students often take immense pleasure in enchanting a cherry blossom downpour to trail people who have wronged them; the charm usually remains intact for well over a week unless a teacher takes pity upon the student and dispels the spell. While they have mastered wandless magic through the use of talismans, pockets of the Japanese wizarding community have slowly begun to adopt the use of wands following its rise in popularity all over the world, although wandless magic still takes precedence, and wands are more often tucked behind their ears or used to hold up their hair than to practice magic.