The bitter taste of stale disinfectant still clung to Viktor's tongue. His knees ached, a dull throb that had persisted since their humiliating detention in the communal bathroom. The memory of Filch's cackle and the lingering smell of unclean drains clung to them all like a bad charm. Viktor, finding himself flinching at every creak in the corridor on the way to breakfast, or imagining Mrs. Norris's glowing eyes around every corner, knew with a cold certainty that another run-in was simply unacceptable. Their House points were already a sore spot, and the indignity of scrubbing toilets had settled deep into his very bones.
Later that morning, as the Great Hall emptied and the first-years dispersed for their Saturday electives, the trio found themselves in a quiet alcove near a rarely used staircase. The weight of their predicament pressed down on them.
"This can't happen again," Viktor stated grimly, his voice low, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the dull ache in his knees. "The point loss was one thing, but that... that bathroom." He shuddered faintly. "We need a solution. Something that guarantees we are never caught out of bed again.
Claire, who had been meticulously polishing her already pristine wand, looked up, her brow furrowed in thought. "Detection charms are always active. And Filch, despite his, ah, limitations, has Mrs. Norris. We need absolute concealment." Her eyes narrowed. "Invisibility cloaks."
Hailey's eyes widened, then quickly clouded with doubt. "Invisibility cloaks? My parents would never in a million years. They're so expensive, for one. And it's painfully obvious what you'd need it for."
"Exactly," Viktor agreed, running a hand through his perpetually messy black fringe. "Even suggesting such an item to their parents would invite a lecture about 'unbecoming conduct' and 'needless risks to their standing in society.' Our families value their unblemished reputations above all else. A cloaked foray into the castle's forbidden areas could genuinely jeopardize our futures if discovered. Such an item screams serious nocturnal activity, not polite extracurriculars."
"So we can't buy them," Claire concluded. "Which means... we make them?" Her gaze flickered to Viktor.
Viktor nodded, a determined glint in his eye. "Invisibility is a second-year lesson in Charms, taught through the Invisible Book of Invisibility. The principles aren't overly complex for basic concealment. I'm confident I can achieve such a feat. We just need a starting point: un-enchanted cloaks."
A few hours later, after discreetly drafting a letter in Viktor's meticulous handwriting, they carefully sealed it with a pouch of Galleons — all Viktor's money accumulated from his allowance – and dispatched it via their owls. Valerius, Viktor's sleek silver-grey owl, and Claire's mottled companion launched from the Owlery, carrying their unconventional shopping list to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The letter simply requested "ten un-enchanted cloaks, oversized for a very large individual." Buying cloaks was perfectly legitimate, after all, and Madam Malkin's would have no idea who the buyers were, nor their true intentions.
The cloaks arrived with surprising speed, a large, bulky package deposited by a flutter of owls directly into their common room by Sunday evening. As soon as the room was empty of older students, they gathered the bundle of dark fabric and slipped into a rarely used, dusty storage room deep within the Slytherin dormitories, far from prying eyes. The air was stale, smelling faintly of old parchment and forgotten things, but it offered the absolute privacy they needed.
"Right," Viktor announced, pulling one of the oversized cloaks from the pile. It was indeed massive, easily large enough to envelop a fully grown, tall, and fat man, which meant it could comfortably conceal all three of them if they huddled together. "Let's begin. This isn't just about turning invisible. That's only half the battle. We need complete undetectability." He set the cloak on a dusty table, smoothing out the thick fabric.
He took a deep breath, focusing, picturing the intricate enchantments from the books he'd skimmed. His wand, ebony and unicorn hair, felt warm in his hand. He began with a basic Disillusionment Charm, chanting the incantation clearly, his wand movements precise. The fabric shimmered, distorted, then faded slightly. He held it up. "See? Barely visible."
Hailey reached out, her fingers phasing through the fabric. "Almost. But I can still see the outline if I squint."
"And if it makes a noise?" Claire pointed out, kicking a loose pebble on the floor, which clattered loudly. "Filch hears everything."
"Precisely," Viktor nodded. "Which is why we add a Muffling Charm." He cast again, directing his magic onto the now faintly visible cloak. This time, the cloak seemed to absorb sound, a curious effect that made a whispered word near it sound oddly muted. "And," Viktor continued, a flicker of triumph in his eyes, "we can't forget about Mrs. Norris. I'm not sure if she can smell the tell-tale scent of soap or lingering magic, but we need to be careful. We'll add an Odorless Charm." He applied another layer of magic, picturing any scent being neutralized, absorbed. The cloak shimmered.
They held their breath. Viktor clapped his hands near it. The sound was dulled. He brought his nose close. Nothing. Not a hint of fabric, or magic, or even the faint scent of the dusty room. "Perfect," he breathed.
But their triumph was short-lived. Hailey pulled the cloak on. She vanished from sight, but the fabric still crinkled and rustled with every step she took, a whisper of fabric betraying her location. "It's like I'm wearing a bag of crisps!" she whispered, exasperated.
"The enchantments are interfering," Claire deduced, peering at the shimmering air where Hailey stood. "The invisibility charm is causing the physical material to act strangely under movement, interfering with the muffling charm."
"Start over," Viktor said, a line forming between his brows. He cast a Finite Incantatem, and the cloak snapped back into full visibility, looking perfectly normal. They moved onto the second cloak.
The next nine cloaks were a masterclass in trial and error, a frustrating dance of success and spectacular failure. One cloak, enchanted with what Viktor thought was a perfect invisibility charm, shimmered and then became completely opaque, a solid black lump that absorbed all light. "Perhaps a bit too invisible," Claire murmured dryly. Another became perfectly silent, but still reflected light, making Hailey appear as a disembodied, shimmering silhouette. When Viktor tried to layer the odorless charm, it reacted poorly with the muffling charm, causing the cloak to emit a faint, but distinct, smell of burnt toast. Hailey groaned. A different attempt resulted in the cloak turning invisible, but anyone wearing it would emit a faint, high-pitched hum, like a trapped bee. They ended up with singed eyebrows, faint discoloration on their hands from errant spells, and a pile of unusable, magically compromised cloaks.
"This is infuriating!" Hailey finally exploded, after the seventh cloak turned itself inside out and refused to right itself.
"The layering of enchantments is proving more complex than anticipated," Claire agreed, her expression grim. "Each charm interacts with the others in subtle, unpredictable ways."
Viktor rubbed his temples, a headache blooming. His System offered theoretical solutions, but translating them into precise wandwork and incantations on the fly, with temperamental magic, was proving far more challenging than a textbook problem. He felt a deep, unfamiliar annoyance at his own momentary clumsiness, a reminder that raw knowledge didn't automatically equate to effortless execution. He consulted his internal System display, reviewing the charm theory, adjusting his mental model with each failure.
Finally, late into Tuesday night, exhausted but resolute, they took the tenth, and last, cloak. Viktor applied the invisibility charm, a faint silver shimmer running over the fabric. Then, with painstaking precision, he layered the muffling charm, focusing on how the magical energy integrated with the fabric's natural fibers, rather than merely sitting on its surface. He followed with the odorless charm, picturing the scent molecules being actively disintegrated on contact. He took a deep breath, then held it out.
Claire put it on. She vanished instantly, completely. She took a step. No rustle. She walked across the room, her footsteps barely audible. Viktor sniffed the air near where she stood. Nothing. Not a hint of her, or the dusty room.
"It works," Hailey breathed, her eyes wide with awe. "It actually works."
"Finally," Viktor muttered, a profound sense of relief washing over him, quickly replaced by triumph. This was a proper tool.
Next, they needed a way to detect others around them, a "radar system" for their nocturnal forays. The cloaks made them invisible, but they were still blind to unseen threats – teachers, prefects, or worse, other students.
"The cloaks solve one problem," Viktor stated, once they were back in their private room, the enchanted garment carefully folded. "But we're still blind to everyone else. We need eyes in the back of our heads. A way to detect others before they detect us."
Claire's eyes lit up. "The Human-presence-revealing Spell! Homenum Revelio! It reveals the presence of other humans in the surrounding environment by marking them. I saw it mentioned in a charms book, a variation of the Revelio Charm."
"Precisely," Viktor affirmed. "It's also a foundational spell we'll need for our cartography, to track people on the map. Learning this spell will allow us to gather information from the comfort of our well-hidden, cloaked locations. No more fumbling around in the dark."
Learning Homenum Revelio was no easy feat for first-years. They practiced in the dusty storage room again, their wands tracing complex patterns in the air. The charm required not just an incantation, but a deep focus on intent, a mental mapping of the surrounding space. Viktor, with his advanced theoretical understanding, grasped the concepts quickly, but the practical application took time. His first attempts resulted in faint blips of light appearing randomly, or the charm failing entirely. Hailey found herself casting it too weakly, only sensing people when they were practically on top of her. Claire was meticulous, but often over-analyzed, making her casting too slow.
But they persevered. By two days later, on Thursday night, exhausted but determined, they managed to consistently cast the spell. A successful Homenum Revelio would cause a faint, shimmering outline of any person in the vicinity to appear in their mind's eye, accompanied by a subtle pulse of magical energy. It was crude, but effective. They could finally move unseen and un-smelled, with a rough idea of who was lurking nearby, allowing them to dodge patrols and avoid unwanted encounters.
Their days had become a relentless cycle: classes, homework, frantic, secretive enchanting attempts, and practice with their new spell. They were perpetually exhausted, their earlier scolding by McGonagall feeling like a distant, yet painful, memory.
One evening, slumped over a particularly lengthy Potions essay, Hailey slammed her head onto the table with a soft thud. "I'm so tired my brain feels like a broken Fainting Fancies," she mumbled into the parchment. "I just want to sleep for a week. And then bathe in a tub that doesn't smell of old socks and regret."
Claire, whose own hair was coming loose from its usually neat bun, looked up, a wild gleam in her tired eyes. "I know! What if... what if we found a way to not be tired? A potion!"
Viktor looked at her, then at Hailey. His mind immediately went to the advanced Potions section in the Restricted Section. "The Restfulness Potion," he murmured, his voice laced with the heavy knowledge of forbidden texts. "It's supposed to make the user fully rested, as if they've slept ten hours a day, regardless of actual sleep."
Hailey's head snapped up, her eyes wide. "A magic sleep potion? That sounds like a dream! Let's do it!"
Claire's shoulders slumped. She rubbed her temples, then let out a long, theatrical sigh that was almost a groan. "Of course," she said, her voice dripping with the weight of irony, "the book that shows how to make that potion would be in the Restricted Section. All this trouble," she gestured vaguely around the common room, then flicked a finger at the pristine but ultimately mundane clothes she was wearing, "all this effort, all this point-losing, all these near-catches... just in pursuit of a decent bathroom and now, a decent night's sleep." She looked at them, a small, tired smile playing on her lips, then let out a soft, almost hysterical laugh.
Viktor and Hailey joined in, a tired, knowing chuckle that echoed faintly in the cavernous common room. It was true. From grand ambitions of mastering Hogwarts' secrets, their immediate goals had boiled down to something fundamentally human: comfort and rest. But even these simple desires, in the magical, rule-bound world of Hogwarts, required extraordinary effort, secret endeavors, and a willingness to break rules. Their quest for the map was still there, underlying everything, but for now, they needed to conquer fatigue. And for that, the Restricted Section beckoned once more.