Chapter 22: Invisible Books and Clownish Menaces
Herbology didn't require a textbook, but dragonhide gloves were mandatory. Professor Sprout had warned them about that, and for good reason. There was a lot of digging and fertilizing involved—and plenty of dirt flying around. Still, most of the kids didn't mind. On the contrary, many of them seemed to love getting their hands dirty.
The class ended in high spirits, everyone laughing and brushing soil off their robes. It was the kind of practical, hands-on lesson that made you feel like a real wizard—or a very muddy gardener.
Their next class, Transfiguration, wasn't until 3:00 p.m. Which meant they had almost five and a half hours of free time.
"Totally unfair," Sainz muttered to himself as he walked with Ben and Adam back toward the castle. "Why schedule one class early in the morning and the other in the afternoon?"
Apparently, neither of his roommates shared his concern. "I'm going to the Great Hall to see if there's any food left," said Ben, rubbing his stomach.
Adam yawned so hard he nearly tripped. "I'm going back to bed. No way I'm staying awake for five hours just to wait for class."
Sainz gave him a flat look. "One class and you're already heading back to sleep? You're a walking stereotype."
Adam just waved dismissively, already mentally curled up under his blanket.
"Then we'll split up here," Sainz said. "I'm going to the library."
Ben stopped mid-step. "Seriously? The library? Right now? You're really not helping that rumor that the Sorting Hat got confused."
"Did it even consider putting you in Ravenclaw?" Adam asked, blinking sleepily.
"It did," Sainz replied. "But I chose Hufflepuff."
Both boys stared at him like he'd sprouted a second head.
"You chose it?" Adam asked, aghast. "Why?"
"Because I believe in what it stands for," Sainz said simply. "Most people think Hufflepuff is the leftover house, but they just don't understand it. Give it time. You'll see what I mean. You'll come to love it too."
Neither Ben nor Adam looked convinced, but before they could argue, Sainz turned and started up the stairs.
"Oh, and one more thing," he called over his shoulder. "This afternoon's class is with Professor McGonagall. You really don't want to be late."
That got their attention. Both boys paled, clearly picturing the consequences—possibly being transformed into clocks with their intestines swinging like pendulums. Hogwarts teachers had a flair for the dramatic.
Sainz grinned to himself and continued up to the second floor, where the library was located.
The library was quiet, cold, and filled with the smell of old parchment. Irma Pince, the librarian, stood guard at the entrance like a hawk who hadn't eaten in days. She was so thin and sharp-looking that she reminded Sainz of a vulture in spectacles.
"Hello, Madam Pince," he said politely. "I'm Sainz Autumn. First-year, Hufflepuff."
She eyed him like she expected contraband to fall out of his pockets. "No noise, no food, no socializing. If you take a book out, return it to its proper place. Any borrowed material must be kept clean and returned on time."
"Yes, ma'am," he said quickly.
She gave him a curt nod. "You may enter."
The reason he'd come wasn't to study for class. Not yet, anyway. He was here to learn how the library was organized—and to check something important.
He had read once that there was an area in the Hogwarts library dedicated to invisibility magic. He wasn't sure if it was just a rumor, but he had to know.
Sure enough, tucked between a dusty aisle of obscure magical theory books, there was a small section labeled Invisibility and Concealment. It was surprisingly sparse, with only a few titles about invisibility cloaks and magical creatures like the Demiguise.
He frowned. This couldn't be it.
He reached out and waved his hand over a blank spot on the shelf. Maybe the books were literally invisible?
Nothing.
It made sense, really. If there had ever been truly invisible books here, they'd probably been borrowed or knocked down—or worse, lost forever. No wonder the shelf looked so empty.
He let out a soft sigh. "Figures."
Still, even if he had found one, what good would it do without the skills to reveal it? He wasn't ready for that level of magic yet. Invisibility wasn't just about vanishing—it required serious knowledge of concealment and illusion.
And even then, if he ever wanted to catch up with the Weasley twins and get his hands on the Marauder's Map before they did, he'd need more than just a few tricks. He'd need everything—Disillusionment Charms, silencing spells, and eventually, the ability to reveal hidden magic.
"I'll get there," he told himself. "Two or three years to reach average wizarding level. Four or five to pass the ultimate exam. I can do this."
Lost in thought, he wandered out of the library and into the corridor.
And that's when he heard it.
A strange, high-pitched giggle echoed behind him, sharp and chaotic.
"Hee-hee-hee! A little brat in the hallways! Never seen you before! First-year, aren't you? HA! This is going to be fun!"
Sainz turned. There was no one there—just a stick floating in the air, swaying like it was deciding whether to bop him on the head or the nose.
Peeves.
He'd been wondering when the infamous Hogwarts poltergeist would show up. He'd searched half the castle and hadn't seen him once.
"Well, well. You must be Peeves," he said calmly, staring straight at the floating stick. "Honestly, I thought you'd be scarier. You're not even brave enough to show yourself."
A long, whistling raspberry echoed in the air. Then—POP!—a little man materialized in mid-air, cross-legged and cackling. He wore garish, mismatched clothes like a circus clown who'd been electrocuted, complete with a crooked cap and curling shoes. His face was sharp, mischievous, and downright ugly.
Compared to Hogwarts' ghosts, he looked like a child's fever dream gone wrong.
"Ho-ho! You cheeky brat!" Peeves screeched, flipping upside down and twirling his stick. "Think you're clever, do ya? I'll show you clever!"
Sainz didn't flinch.
He'd read that Peeves could be dealt with—if you kept your cool. And now that the poltergeist was visible, he was fair game.
Sainz narrowed his eyes.
"Alright then, clown. Let's see what you've got."
*******
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