Viktor was consulting the Magic Mirror to see what new "revelation" he had received—this was because every time he underwent a change, he would gain a corresponding revelation. However, the sensation of these revelations was often vague, so asking the Magic Mirror was the safer choice.
Speaking of safety, there was a cautionary tale worth mentioning.
Once upon a time, a flower fairy went searching for a wishing mirror, hoping to use it to save a dying flower tree. She endured countless hardships before finally finding the mirror, granting her the chance to make a wish that would be unconditionally fulfilled. However, she did not understand how the mirror worked. The moment she held it, she absentmindedly remarked to her companion:
"Why is this mirror so dusty? I wish it were a little cleaner."
And so, the mirror granted her wish.
To avoid a similar mistake, Viktor decided it was best to consult the Magic Mirror before experimenting with his ability—just in case it could only be used once.
The mirror in his hand quickly reacted.
The moment Viktor uttered, "Magic Mirror, Magic Mirror, tell me," his reflection within the glass began to blur rapidly. The surface rippled like a lake disturbed by a falling stone. Then, the mirror darkened, and within the pitch-black background, a hazy silhouette emerged.
The figure's face was indistinct, but it drew closer and closer, until it seemed to be standing directly opposite Viktor, separated only by the glass.
The shadow's mouth—if it had one—moved slightly, forming blurred, shifting shapes:
"To the left of a lake, to the right of a forest;"
"Amidst a veil of mist, above the flames of vengeance;"
"A guide born from the shadows has begun to take form;"
"The lake's water shall lend you power, aiding your flawless concealment."
"Only those who have crossed the boundary of death will see through your disguise."
The Magic Mirror's voice was airy and ethereal, barely more than a whisper. But Viktor was already used to it.
He easily extracted the key points from the cryptic message—the lake's magic was related to concealment, and the last line described the condition under which the magic would fail.
But "those who have crossed the boundary of death"... That phrase was ambiguous.
Did it mean people who had died and come back to life?
"I preferred the way you used to speak," Viktor commented offhandedly. "Didn't you talk much more plainly with the Queen? Why are your answers getting vaguer lately?"
The shadow in the mirror paused for a moment before wavering slightly.
"...You have no right to say that."
A deep, curt voice echoed from the mirror.
Viktor: "?"
For a split second, he was stunned, unable to react.
Before he could say anything, the shadow within the mirror quickly receded into the darkness, vanishing as though it had never been there. The old, worn-out mirror in his hand returned to its original murky state.
The Magic Mirror had left.
Viktor: "..."
Why the rush? He hadn't even said anything yet.
He stared at the mirror for a moment, then eventually slipped it back into the pocket of his cloak.
Returning to his original plan, he began testing his new ability.
When he raised his right hand, a small whirlpool of lake water indeed materialized in his palm. The water had an unusual dark hue, almost like a special kind of shadow.
The liquid crawled up his arm, swiftly spreading to cover his entire body...
A few seconds later, Viktor found a regular mirror and took a look at himself.
He had turned into a humanoid shadow.
The shadow had no face, its outline was indistinct, and the only discernible features were two hollow, white voids where eyes should have been.
Viktor observed himself in silence for a moment.
...This concealment, how should he put it?
It worked—but not in the way he had hoped.
People could still see him. If he was still visible, how was this any different from simply wearing a mask?!
--
Meanwhile, the Weasley twins were sneaking down a hallway, up to no good as usual. One of them was carrying a cauldron hidden beneath his cloak, a sure sign of mischief in the making.
George, walking in front, scanned the surroundings carefully before peeking into a seemingly empty classroom on the right. He then signaled to Fred, who was carrying the cauldron, and whispered,
"All clear. No one's around."
"Good."
Fred responded in the same hushed tone, adjusting his grip on the cauldron to hide it better beneath his cloak. The way it bulged out made him look like he'd suddenly grown a beer belly—an amusing sight.
George, though a professional in mischief, couldn't help but smirk when he turned back and saw Fred's ridiculous appearance. Still, he held back his laughter—probably because if he laughed out loud, he'd have to carry the cauldron next.
After suppressing his amusement, George asked seriously,
"So, Fred, how confident are you in this formula? Will it really corrode ceramic?"
"Absolutely."
Fred said with conviction.
"I've adjusted Seamus' formula four times—it's foolproof. Even the old bat mentioned in class that Flobberworm mucus has corrosive properties. As long as we add a few carefully measured drops, we can seamlessly and perfectly remove an entire toilet seat!"
"Mom and Ginny are going to love this Christmas gift!"
Fred declared with an evil grin. George nodded in agreement, fully supporting their grand plan.
However, as George stepped into the empty classroom first, he suddenly felt a faint gust of wind behind him.
"Huh?"
Instinctively, he raised a hand to his neck and turned around.
Fred, equally puzzled, also looked back. "What is it?"
"…Nothing. Must've been my imagination," George muttered.
Behind them, the Hogwarts hallway remained still. The candle flames flickered quietly, and the suits of armor stood as rigid and imposing as ever.
Nothing was there.
It must have been a trick of the mind.
George shook off the eerie feeling, turned back—
And found himself face to face with a humanoid shadow, no more than three inches from his face!
The shadow seemed to distort the space around it, blurring everything in its vicinity as if reality itself had been pixelated. Its hollow, white eyes stared at him—cold, unblinking.
For some reason, just looking at the shadow filled George with an inexplicable fear, as though an invisible force was squeezing his heart, paralyzing him.
"Zzt!"
The figure flickered once—then vanished into thin air.
All that remained before them was the empty classroom and its rows of desks and chairs.
For a long moment, George forgot to breathe. Beside him, Fred was just as frozen.
After what felt like an eternity, George finally stammered,
"D-Did you see that?"
But as he turned to look at Fred, he suddenly felt an ice-cold hand rest on his shoulder.
"AAAAAHHHHHH!!!"