"The Disillusionment Charm should last for several hours, maybe less, but its effect will fade gradually. Pay attention to any changes," Albert reminded Fred as he cast the spell on him. "And if it wears off and you get caught, don't rat me out."
"I trust you. After all, you used it on yourself," Fred replied confidently. To him, Albert's willingness to test it on himself proved the spell's reliability.
"Filch is awake. He's already moving to catch people," George warned, eyes fixed on the Marauder's Map.
"Any professors nearby?" Albert pressed. He still had a task involving Filch, and if it was only Filch, Albert wouldn't mind completing it.
"None so far. Filch will probably search the third floor first. We'll head to the fourth, make some noise there, and then…"
After a whispered discussion, the three set their plan in motion.
On the third floor, Filch, wrapped in a thick cloak, was in a foul mood. Once again, he had come up empty-handed. The students out past curfew had vanished, and even Peeves was nowhere to be found.
Then he heard rapid footsteps nearby.
That brat is still here. He won't escape.
Grinding his teeth, Filch gave chase. As he rounded a corner, he glimpsed a flash of light disappearing.
"You can't escape," he muttered, raising his lamp.
But when he turned the corner, his quarry was gone.
Filch swore there were no secret passages nearby. Where had the scoundrel hidden?
"What's this?" He stepped on something, lifted his foot, and shone his lamp down. His face darkened.
A dungbomb.
Filch's fury boiled over. He scanned the hallway, searching for the culprit.
Unbeknownst to him, Fred crouched invisibly in the corner, struggling to hold his breath and suppress his laughter. Albert's Disillusionment Charm had worked perfectly.
Moments later, the clanging of armor echoed from upstairs.
He ran up there? Impossible. No one knows Hogwarts's secret passages better than me.
Filch stormed off, muttering, "You won't escape. I'll hang you up and whip you soundly."
Only after his footsteps faded did Fred gasp for air, nearly suffocating from holding his breath.
On the fourth floor, Filch found only a fallen helmet. Then the stench hit him again—another dungbomb, this time splattered on his boot.
His face flushed red.
"Peeves! Get out here! I know you're behind this!" he roared, looking like a volcano about to erupt.
Fred, hidden nearby, grinned. If Filch blamed Peeves, all the better. Let them fight each other.
Elsewhere, Albert snapped shut his pocket watch. Estimating the time, he conjured a crackling sound with his wand. But before he could leave, rapid footsteps approached.
"Oh no."
He held his breath and pressed into a corner.
A pale light appeared. Professor Bard Broad, cloaked in purple, walked toward him. Raising his wand, he scanned the hallway, his gaze lingering on Albert's hiding place.
It's over. Albert's heart raced. Could his Disillusionment Charm fool a professor?
Filch arrived, still fuming. "Professor, did you hear anything? There are students out past curfew—I'm sure of it."
Albert caught the stench again. The twins had thrown dungbombs at Filch.
"Students out past curfew?" Broad raised an eyebrow, glanced once more at Albert's position, and said calmly, "I didn't see anyone. I just heard a sound. What happened to your boots?"
"Dungbombs. Peeves, most likely. That invisible menace," Filch growled.
"Peeves?" Broad repeated thoughtfully. With a flick of his wand, the stains vanished from Filch's boots.
"Thank you," Filch said gratefully.
"You're welcome. Search that way—I'll check over here. If it was students, they haven't gone far." Broad gestured in another direction.
"Yes, we'll catch them tonight," Filch vowed, hurrying off. Broad turned and left as well.
Albert heard Broad's voice faintly: "Don't let it happen again."
Albert was certain Broad had seen him—but had chosen to let him go. The realization left him stunned.
After they departed, Albert slipped away to meet the twins.
"Are you alright?" George asked anxiously. "I saw Broad too. Did he see through your charm?"
"He did. But he let me go," Albert admitted. "Tell Fred to come back quickly—we're heading to the eighth floor."
"The eighth floor? Why?" George asked.
"The Room of Requirement. It should be accessible now. If it is, we'll hide there until Filch gives up, then head to the library." Albert wanted to confirm if Broad had been the one inside earlier.
"Okay." George agreed. Tonight's mischief had been enough.
"Where did you and Fred agree to meet?"
"He's coming soon."
Moments later, Fred rushed over, breathless. "Albert, are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Let's move. Filch's still hunting us—and Broad too. My Disillusionment Charm won't fool his eyes."