Later that evening, behind a tapestry near the Charms corridor…
"George," Caelum whispered.
"Or Fred," replied a mischievous voice.
"Depending on the hair parting," another added, stepping from the shadows. "But yes. We know the way."
Fred and George Weasley stood side by side, arms crossed and faces identical with matching devilish grins.
"You want a secret path to Hogsmeade?" Fred asked.
"Of course we know them," George said. "All seven."
"Though we're not giving anything away for free."
"I figured," Caelum said, already bracing for it. "What do you want?"
The twins exchanged a look. George leaned in. "Last year, we let off a dungbomb near the Trophy Room. Filch caught us. Dragged us to his office and threatened to string us up by our ankles—or some nonsense like that."
"Standard procedure," Fred added. "But inside his office, we spotted something. A drawer. Not just any drawer."
"A drawer marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous," George said with relish, eyes gleaming. "So, the next day, we let off another Dungbomb—this time inside his office."
Fred nodded, grinning. "But we didn't get the chance to nick anything. The dungbomb was a dud—probably one of Zonko's dodgy batches. Barely smoked for five seconds before fizzling out."
George crossed his arms. "Filch was already halfway to throttling us by then. We had to leg it."
"But we saw things," Fred said. "Beautiful things. Contraband, experimental Zonko prototypes—maybe even stuff from students long graduated or expelled. And amongst them, there was a map—looked… unique."
"But now Filch is watching us like a hawk," George muttered. "We need someone else."
"Someone smart. Quiet. Who won't get caught." Fred smiled broadly. "That's you."
Caelum sighed, rubbing his forehead. He could already hear trouble cackling in the distance.
"Okay, fine. What exactly do you need me to do?"
Fred clapped him on the back. "Nothing major. A little sneak, a little peek, and maybe a retrieval or two."
George added, "You help us get our goods, and we give you the safest passage to Hogsmeade. Guaranteed."
"And if I get caught?"
Fred and George exchanged thoughtful looks.
"…Don't."
…
It was night now. The castle was cloaked in silence, disturbed only by the occasional flicker of torchlight and the echo of distant footsteps. For most students, sneaking out after hours was reckless but for Caelum, slipping past the patrolling prefects was almost too easy. A blend of natural grace, his honed instincts, and the faint blur of Voltis shimmered briefly at his heel.
Within minutes, he was already nearing the caretaker's office.
All he had to do now was wait.
Sure enough, after a short while, he spotted the flicker of lantern light. Argus Filch emerged from the dim corridor, muttering bitterly to his ever-present companion.
"Come along, Mrs. Norris," the squib growled. "Let's see how many troublemakers we catch tonight. I smell at least three."
The cat meowed, eyes gleaming in the dark like two pale coals, and the pair wandered off into the shadows, muttering and sniffing down invisible trails of mischief.
Once silence returned, Caelum moved.
A soft flick of his wand. "Alohomora."
The door creaked open slowly, hinges whispering like ghosts. He slipped inside.
Filch's office smelled of mildew and stale ink. It was dim and cluttered, a room overwhelmed by disuse and paranoia. Filing cabinets lined the walls, each labeled with the same grim monotony: Detentions, Punishments, Confiscated—Mild, Confiscated—Serious, and finally the one Caelum was after: Confiscated and Highly Dangerous.
The desk was ancient oak, heavily scarred with age and the occasional blade mark, stacked with grimy scrolls and cracked ink bottles. Dust hovered in the air like a charm left half-cast.
He moved quietly toward the drawer.
Pulling it open revealed a jumbled collection of items half-hidden in warding papers and soot-dark cloth. The first thing he saw was a box labeled "Portable Swamp – Zonko's Experimental Batch." That had to be what the twins meant.
And there—folded and stuffed beneath a torn roll of parchment—was it.
The Marauder's Map.
Caelum lifted it with a flicker of disbelief, recognizing the magical aura instantly. The enchanted parchment felt heavier than it looked, pulsing faintly with charmwork. He never thought he'd be the one stealing the legendary map for Fred and George Weasley.
He blinked, then chuckled softly to himself.
"Come to think of it… I could've just taken this and skipped the whole deal with them."
Still grinning, he tucked it into his robes. "Oh well. Too late now."
Just as he turned to leave, something—a whisper—caught his attention. Not a voice exactly, more like a thread pulling at his consciousness. A beckoning.
His eyes shifted back to the drawer.
Tucked away in the far corner, half-buried under black velvet, was a locket.
It was unlike anything else in the drawer.
An elegant black locket, oval-shaped and smooth to the touch. Its surface was a deep obsidian—neither matte nor reflective, as if it absorbed the light instead of bouncing it back. Along the outer rim and hinge, silver-grey filigree twisted in layered spirals and interlocking arcs. No markings. No name.
But Caelum could feel it. This was not an ordinary trinket.
A deep vibration tingled in his fingertips when he touched it. Not hostile—but sentient. It hummed with a magic unlike what he was used to. It felt subtle but deep at the same time.
Mind magic.
A memory ward? No—more than that. A mind relatedartifact.
He narrowed his eyes, listening closely as that quiet pull scratched at the edge of his thoughts—inviting.
He took one last glance around the dim caretaker's office—dust suspended in the lantern-lit gloom, scrolls sagging from the weight of forgotten rules, and the drawer now closed behind him.
Then, without a sound, he vanished into the shadows—closing the door, the silence, and the moment behind him, with two items for the twins…
…and one unusual locket.