Chapter Text
The invention workshop beneath Silverthorne Manor had become strangely quiet over the past few days.
Not because nothing was happening.
Quite the opposite.
The silence existed because everyone had learned that when Mira Silverthorne entered a certain state of concentration, interrupting her became remarkably difficult. The room itself seemed to recognize it. Floating diagrams drifted more slowly through the air. Quills lowered their scratching. Even the enchanted lamps dimmed slightly, as though the workshop understood that an idea was taking shape. Afternoon sunlight poured through the high windows, illuminating countless pages of notes spread across several tables. Sketches of Whisperlinks lay neatly organized beside journals detailing Auror procedures, field operations, and magical security protocols. Mira sat at the largest workbench with her chin resting against one hand while the fingers of her other hand slowly rotated a silver sphere in the air before her. The Aetherwing Cognition Cuffs resting against her ears glowed softly, translating possibilities into organized patterns that only she seemed capable of following. Nearby, Draco sat reading through one of the reports Korrin had sent regarding Auror operations, occasionally glancing toward Mira whenever she muttered to herself.
The original Snitch Camera floated above the worktable.
Its golden wings fluttered lazily.
The tiny device looked almost cheerful.
That had always been one of its strengths.
And one of its weaknesses.
The Snitch Camera had been designed for broadcasting events, recording discoveries, documenting magical creatures, and preserving important moments. It excelled at visibility. It wanted to be seen. Its golden body naturally attracted attention. In schools and public events, that was beneficial. In covert operations, however, it would be a disaster. Mira stared thoughtfully at the tiny camera while remembering several conversations she had overheard from Aurors throughout the year. Remus had mentioned surveillance difficulties. Moody had complained about blind corners. Tonks had joked that some suspects were easier to catch than to observe. The more Mira considered the problem, the more obvious the solution became.
The Snitch Camera needed a sibling.
A quieter sibling.
A more cautious sibling.
One built for shadows instead of spotlights.
Draco eventually lowered his report.
"Mira."
She hummed absentmindedly.
"That look means you've had another idea."
Mira blinked.
Then slowly smiled.
Draco groaned immediately.
It was the exact smile she always wore before something complicated happened.
The smile somehow managed to be innocent and alarming at the same time.
"What is it this time?"
Mira rotated the floating Snitch Camera.
The golden sphere spun slowly in the air.
"I think Aurors need their own version."
Draco immediately understood.
"The camera."
She nodded.
"A better one."
The words made Draco laugh softly.
"Better?"
Mira tilted her head.
"Different."
That answer felt more accurate.
The original invention already worked remarkably well.
This new design needed a different purpose entirely.
Mira stood and crossed toward a clean section of the worktable. Sheets of parchment immediately lifted themselves into position as though anticipating her thoughts. The Aetherwing Cognition Cuffs shimmered softly. Within moments, diagrams began appearing across the pages. New wing structures. New enchantment arrays. New concealment runes. Draco watched quietly as the design unfolded. One thing he had learned throughout the year was that Mira rarely abandoned old inventions. Instead, she improved them. Expanded them. Adapted them to solve new problems. Every invention seemed to evolve into a family of related ideas. The Auris Filigree had inspired communication research. The Moonstone Rings had led to broader magical health applications. The Whisperlinks had grown from years of observing how people struggled to communicate efficiently. This new project felt similar.
"What are you calling it?" Draco asked.
Mira paused.
Then wrote three words across the top of the page.
Auror Spy Snitch
Draco stared at the name.
Then laughed.
"It certainly gets straight to the point."
Mira looked pleased by that.
Over the next several hours the prototype slowly took shape. Unlike its golden predecessor, the Auror Spy Snitch possessed a silver body polished to a muted shine rather than a bright gleam. Thin runes glowed along its surface in soft light blue patterns. The wings remained elegant but narrower, designed for quieter movement through enclosed spaces. Every component reflected a different philosophy. The original camera celebrated visibility. The Spy Snitch embraced discretion. Mira spent nearly an hour refining the sound dampening enchantments alone. Then she rewrote them twice. Then a third time. Draco eventually stopped counting. He had learned that whenever Mira became dissatisfied with ninety-nine percent perfection, everyone else simply had to wait.
Night slowly approached.
The workshop grew warmer.
Candles ignited automatically.
Still Mira worked.
Eventually the first true breakthrough arrived.
Camouflage.
The silver Snitch floated above the table.
Mira raised her wand.
Several runes ignited simultaneously.
The little construct shimmered.
Then vanished.
Draco blinked.
He immediately stood.
"Where did it go?"
Mira smiled.
"Exactly."
Draco slowly circled the workshop.
Nothing.
No reflection.
No outline.
No shimmer.
Nothing.
The sensation reminded him unpleasantly of trying to locate an invisible fairy after it decided to be difficult.
Then suddenly a silver Snitch appeared beside his shoulder.
Draco nearly jumped.
Mira laughed.
The Snitch immediately vanished again.
"That's disturbing."
"Effective," Mira corrected.
Draco reluctantly admitted she had a point.
The Auror Spy Snitch could conceal itself remarkably well. It didn't merely turn invisible. It actively blended into its surroundings. The runes adapted to nearby lighting conditions, magical interference, and environmental colors. Theron's journals had inspired part of the design. Some creatures used camouflage through instinct. Mira had simply translated the concept into enchantments. The result felt almost alive. Watching it disappear and reappear became increasingly unsettling. Which probably meant it would be useful.
Several days later the final piece emerged.
Integration.
The Whisperlinks.
Mira sat quietly beside the prototype while studying her newest notes. The Auror Spy Snitch could already record visual information. It could already remain hidden. Yet something felt incomplete. Then she remembered the exact purpose behind the Whisperlinks. Aurors needed immediate communication. They couldn't always wait to return from missions and review footage afterward. Sometimes information mattered in the moment. Sometimes seconds decided everything. Once that realization settled into place, the solution became obvious.
She linked them.
The process took nearly six hours.
Three failed attempts.
One minor magical explosion.
And an unfortunate incident involving a self-writing quill.
Eventually the enchantments aligned.
Mira activated the prototype.
The silver Snitch rose into the air.
Its runes glowed.
The Whisperlink resting nearby responded.
Then—
success.
Draco immediately felt it.
Not thoughts.
Images.
Brief visual impressions flowed through the communication network.
The workshop.
The table.
Mira.
The view shifted as the Snitch moved.
Everything the device saw transferred directly through the Whisperlinks.
Real-time.
Immediate.
Seamless.
Draco stared.
Then slowly looked toward Mira.
"That's incredible."
Mira exhaled.
Relief softened her shoulders.
For a moment she simply sat there enjoying the feeling of completion. The best inventions always felt similar. Not excitement exactly. Satisfaction. The quiet certainty that something useful now existed that had not existed before. Something capable of helping someone. Outside the workshop windows, stars had begun appearing overhead. Moonlight filtered across the gardens. The manor had fallen largely asleep. Yet inside the workshop, a silver Snitch hovered silently through the air like a tiny guardian spirit.
Mira reached out.
The Auror Spy Snitch landed gently upon her palm.
Its blue runes pulsed softly.
Waiting.
Ready.
A tool built not for recognition or applause.
But for protection.
For awareness.
For the people who stepped into danger so others would not have to.
And somehow, Mira suspected Uncle Sev, Korrin, Remus, Tonks, Moody, and the other Aurors would find plenty of uses for it before long.