geniuses
The moment the third task was revealed, the adults wasted no time preparing Harry and his friends. If they were going to throw him into a giant, shifting death maze, then he was going to be as prepared as possible.
They gathered in Malfoy Manor’s dueling hall (because of course, the Malfoys had a dedicated dueling hall), with Sirius, Snape, Remus, and Lucius leading the training. Narcissa supervised, sipping tea like this was all perfectly normal.
The session started fine. They practiced offensive and defensive spells, focusing on countering jinxes, dodging curses, and shielding themselves effectively.
Harry, unsurprisingly, was the best in practical application—his reflexes were quick, his instincts sharp, and he managed to dodge or counter almost everything thrown at him.
"Excellent work, Potter," Snape admitted begrudgingly after Harry deflected one of his curses and countered with a near-perfect Expelliarmus. "I can almost tolerate you."*
Sirius snorted from the side, clearly enjoying the fact that Snape had to compliment his godson.
But then—disaster struck.
It started when Draco and Hermione began overanalyzing spell theory.
"No, no, no," Draco huffed, pushing his fringe back. "You’re misunderstanding the core principle. The way the Protego charm interacts with kinetic energy means that—"
"—it doesn’t just block," Hermione interrupted, her face bright with excitement. "It absorbs a portion of the magic and disperses it outward, which is why some shields shimmer and others don’t!"*
"Precisely!"* Draco said, looking pleased. "But if we adjust the wand movement slightly—"
And just like that, the rest of them were completely lost.
Sirius, Lucius, Ron, and Blaise collectively groaned. Will Solace just looked amused, while Pansy dramatically flopped onto a nearby couch.
"You know, I always thought you two were insufferable on your own," Sirius muttered, "but together? Merlin help us."*
"They’re multiplying," Ron whispered in horror.
Harry was barely paying attention. He was too busy watching Draco with heart eyes.
It was unfair how attractive his boyfriend looked while explaining ridiculously advanced spellwork.
Narcissa, meanwhile, smirked and leaned toward Snape. "How long before someone hexes them to shut them up?"
"I give it ten minutes," Snape replied dryly.
Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can we get back to actual spell-casting?"
Draco and Hermione ignored everyone and continued.
Harry just sighed. He loved every second of it.
---
Draco and Hermione had a habit of going overboard.
When they first started theorizing ways to enhance invisibility cloaks, it was meant to be a casual discussion—one of their usual debates over magical mechanics. But, as usual, one thing led to another, and now they were actually making one.
And, because Draco was Draco, and Hermione was Hermione, they weren’t just stopping at replicating an Invisibility Cloak. They were improving it.
---
"You know," Draco had said one evening, twirling a quill between his fingers as they sat in the Malfoy library, "traditional invisibility cloaks degrade over time because they’re made from Demiguise hair. It’s impressive, but temporary. Potter’s cloak is the only known true relic that doesn’t degrade."*
"Right," Hermione nodded, flipping through a book on Magical Textiles. "So if we want something permanent, we’ll need a different material."*
"Which is where alchemy comes in," Draco said smugly, tossing a book at her.
Hermione caught it and let out an excited gasp. "You want to fuse Demiguise properties into something else?"
Draco smirked. "Gold-threaded silk, charmed with modified Disillusionment properties, should allow for self-repair. Add in Protean Charm elements, and we can make the cloak respond to the wearer."*
Hermione’s brain worked at a million miles per second. "We could weave a Stasis Charm into the fabric so it doesn’t degrade over time!"*
"And—!" Draco pointed at a passage in one of his family’s advanced enchantment books, "we could use a magical expansion rune, so the cloak adjusts to the number of people under it!"*
They stared at each other for a beat, then immediately started scribbling equations onto parchment.
---
it took weeks of experimenting.
- Their first attempt shrank to the size of a handkerchief and refused to expand.
- Their second attempt nearly caught fire when the Protean Charm reacted poorly with the Stasis Charm.
- The third attempt turned half-invisible—which meant Draco’s head disappeared, but the rest of him was still visible. (Harry had walked in on that one and almost choked laughing.)
- Their fourth attempt actually worked, but only for one person at a time.
By the time they perfected it, they had successfully created:
✔️ A cloak that expanded or shrank based on the number of people underneath.
✔️ A self-repairing, permanent invisibility effect.
✔️ A way to modify how transparent the wearer was, allowing for partial invisibility.
Now, all they had to do was show the adults.
---
The moment they gathered in the Malfoy sitting room, the energy was tense.
Snape had his arms crossed, looking skeptical. Sirius was watching with mild amusement, while Lucius and Narcissa sat poised, waiting to see what their ridiculously ambitious son had come up with now.
Harry was off to the side, trying not to look too smug about the fact that his boyfriend had just reinvented an ancient artifact.
"Alright," Hermione said, holding the shimmering silver fabric in her hands. "Draco, explain."*
Draco smirked. "This—" he gestured dramatically, "—is a modified, enhanced, improved version of the Invisibility Cloak."*
Snape snorted. "Oh, of course it is."*
"It expands and shrinks based on the number of people using it," Hermione cut in, completely ignoring Snape’s sarcasm. "It also doesn’t degrade, and it has customizable transparency."*
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Show me."*
Draco and Hermione exchanged a glance. Then, they both stepped under the cloak—
—And vanished.
The air shimmered, and then suddenly, their bodies flickered into view partially—like ghosts.
"It lets us control visibility," Hermione’s disembodied voice explained.
"Or hide completely," Draco added, and they disappeared again.
The adults stared.
Harry, grinning, applauded. "I still think it should be called the ‘Draco Cloak.’"
Lucius looked incredibly impressed. "You wove an active expansion charm into enchanted silk?"
"Among other things," Draco said smugly, reappearing.
"This is—" Narcissa pressed her fingers to her lips, clearly amazed. "Draco. Hermione. This is extraordinary."*
"It’s reckless," Snape said, narrowing his eyes at them. "How much magical strain does the material take? How stable is it under duress?"
"Oh, don’t be so grumpy, Severus," Sirius said, grinning. "You’re just mad because they out-invented half the wizarding world."*
Snape glared daggers at him, but didn’t argue.
Remus, thoughtful, reached out to touch the fabric. "It feels just like Harry’s cloak."* He turned to Hermione and Draco, admiration clear in his expression. "You two should be proud. This is groundbreaking work."*
Draco preened. "Obviously."*
Hermione beamed.
Harry wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist, leaning in. "You know," he whispered into his ear, "I love it when you show off."*
Draco’s cheeks flushed pink. "Shut up, Potter."*
---
The project was a success. The adults were stunned, Hermione and Draco were thrilled, and Harry was 100% in love with his ridiculous, genius boyfriend.
Sirius, leaning back in his chair, grinned at Snape. "So, what’s next? You think they’ll make a flying carpet?"
Snape scowled. "Don’t encourage them."