The common room is unusually quiet—at least for this lot. Theo sits slouched in his chair, scrolling through his phone with an expression somewhere between annoyed and offended. Finally, he tosses it onto the table with a sharp sigh.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” he says, dragging a hand through his hair. “Luna canceled. Again. Third time this week. And now she’s left me on read? Nah. What’s going on?”

Enzo looks up from where he’s laid out on the sofa. “Same here. That new transfer from Ilvermorny was all flirty yesterday, then suddenly I get: ‘Hey, something came up.’ No details. Just that. Then silence.”

Draco, who’s been nursing a glass of firewhiskey like it personally wronged him, chimes in. “Katie said she had a migraine. Then posted a mirror selfie an hour later with the caption ‘healed girl era.’” He pauses, brows furrowing. “I don’t even know what that means.”

Regulus leans forward, his voice low and suspicious. “It’s not just ghosting. It’s coordinated. Like someone sent out a memo that we’re the plague.”

Blaise smirks faintly, but there’s curiosity in his eyes. “I saw something on Pansy’s phone… an app. She tried to hide it, but I caught the name—The Cloak. Black background. Snake icon. I tried to get in, but it asked for an ID scan… female only.”

Tom, lounging in the corner like he’s been expecting this all along, tilts his head. “So, they’ve built an intelligence network they’re using against us?”

Mattheo’s grin is slow and wolfish. “So we need access.” He pauses, the sparkle in his eye unmistakable. “Don’t worry. I’ve got someone who loves to break things.”

Regulus hesitates, letting out a sigh. “…This isn’t going to be legal, is it?”

Mattheo doesn’t answer. He just winks, pushes himself off the armchair, and strolls out of the common room without another word.