"I've got it!"

Hermione arrived at the long dining table surrounded by an air of triumph, slapping a piece of parchment onto the table. Knowing her so well, the boys would have predicted that she'd finished some sort of essay that was probably due in at least a month's time. Then again, the single sheet was nowhere near the length she wrote to, meaning their interest was piqued. It was even enough to distract them from their morning meals, with Matthew halfway through spreading jam across a croissant. The knife was left precariously close to the edge of the plate as he focused on the girl joining them.

Only a week had gone by but Harry was already enjoying the semblance of normality that they were returning. That was if one considered Hogwarts anything but abnormal. Whilst the Daily Prophet continued its Ministry-mandated campaign of fear, word of mouth was a powerful counter agent in the school, with students passing on differing messages about how close You-know-who truly was to making a comeback. And, regardless of the impending war that was supposedly on the horizon, children were always going to be exactly that: children. It wasn't long before less meaningful gripes, such as homework and the latest gossip, were taking precedence.

For Harry, especially after the revelation of the prophecy and the weeks said information had tarnished at Grimmauld Place, the return of classes was a welcome distraction. Thanks to his friends' intervention whilst aboard the Express, he was able to put the pressures of his supposed destiny to the back of his mind, instead worrying about which way to correctly stir his potions or how to properly twist his wand to ensure his attempts at transfiguration were successful. Simply hanging out with his friends, opting to be positive about the future as they'd instructed, was a gentle reminder of why he loved Hogwarts so much.

And yet he yearned for more. Matthew hadn't invited him into the Tardis since their arrival, despite his claims that their training would start once again, pushing Harry further than ever before. A part of him wanted to bring it up whenever he was with his friend, though he didn't want to appear as if he was nagging. For all he knew, this was part of the process, having to be patient in the face of endless frustration. Accessing his hidden power revolved around having a certain level of control over his mindset, so it would have made sense. Or he might have been giving Matthew too much credit, who may have simply been settling back into life at school before throwing themselves into the deep end.

So seeing the glimmer in Hermione's eyes was the only invitation Harry needed to get excited about something finally happening.

"Are they changing the menu?" Matthew suggested. "I don't want to say I'm getting bored with the meal choices…but when you have magic up your sleeve, that should really come with more variety."

"Not that, silly. Dumbledore finally approved the group."

Hermione slid the parchment closer to them so that they could see. Whilst Matthew slipped on his spectacles to properly read it, Harry scanned the contents. It was a poster, for all intents and purposes. It detailed the start of a new weekly session inviting students of a certain age to practise their magic in a more practical manner. It was basically the return of the duelling club they'd seen in their Second Year, though its purpose appeared to be more wide ranging this time around. And, at the very bottom of the page, Dumbledore's familiar swirling signature floated as if he'd freshly penned it.

Matthew glanced up at Hermione. "You've been speaking to Dumbledore?"

"I may have given him a slight nudge when we passed in the corridor," she replied. "A few times. Though I'll deny purposefully tracking him down just so that I could do that. He seemed to think they were perfectly natural coincidences, so I reckon I'm in the clear."

"You didn't think to bring this up with us?"

Her face fell, obviously expecting a great deal more excitement on Matthew's part. "We already discussed it on the train! I thought that was a green flag for me to pursue this…"

"I remember telling you that I didn't want to train anyone else. I'd prefer to focus all my energy on the two of you."

"So why have you been neglecting those classes lately?" Harry fired at him.

"Maybe I've been preparing something special that's taking a while to put together."

"Are you?"

"I'm certainly going to have to think of something by the time our next session comes along."

Hermione finally sat down, perching next to Matthew. "I don't want to force you into anything you don't want to do, as much as I think you'd be a brilliant teacher. So…for the time being at least…Dumbledore agreed that the group will be run by a selection of professors and professionals from the outside world. That doesn't mean that, if inspiration strikes you, you can't mentor people. From what I could tell, the headmaster was fully onboard with you doing that, along with Harry."

Harry's eyes widened. "What do I have to teach anybody? If anything, you're the one who could show people a thing or two."

"Then perhaps we can work together as a team, like we usually do. Combining our skills would definitely benefit other students. Whether we've wanted to or not, we've been involved in a great deal more fights than anyone else our age."

"And if there's a fight coming to our doorstep, we're going to need everyone to be prepared," Matthew surmised.

"I'm glad to see you're coming round to my way of thinking."

"As if I could disagree with you for long."

"I seem to remember you arguing that you wouldn't be swayed this easily."

"Well, for one, I'm a big, fat liar. And two…that was about leading any sort of class. If I can stay in the background, then I'll be happy."

Harry smirked. "Since when have you ever kept to the shadows?"

"I never said that I was good at it."

"I also spoke to Professor Lupin," Hermione told them.

"It sounds weird when we don't call him Remus," Harry pointed out. "Living with him has forever changed my perspective on him."

"Tell me about it," Matthew said, restarting his devouring of the croissant. "You almost slipped in class yesterday and would have called him by his first name if it wasn't for the kick I gave you."

"I've still got the bruise." Harry rubbed the affected area, grimacing at the lingering pain. "Most people will probably know about our living arrangements."

"Doesn't mean that you should be making it obvious. We now live in a time when certain people will want to exploit any detail in your life. Best to stay on guard."

"Boys," Hermione said in a clipped tone. "Can I finish what I was saying before you went off on a tangent?"

"The floor is yours, dear."

"I visited the professor because I didn't want it to look like we're stepping on his toes. He is the one in charge of Defence Against the Dark Arts, after all. I was worried that this group would make it seem that his lessons aren't enough."

"What did he say?" Harry asked.

"That I shouldn't have fretted nearly as much. He even wants to lead a few of the sessions. They'll give him a bit of leeway compared to the syllabus that he's supposed to follow in class."

In truth, Harry doubted that Lupin was strict when it came to following any sort of suggested schedule. Most of his classes seemed to head in whatever direction they ended up travelling down, one of the main reasons why those points in his week were his favourite. If the group was going to provide even more opportunities for him to learn from someone so skilled, then Harry definitely wasn't going to complain.

"It should be fun," Matthew commented. "I'll obviously be limiting my skills to fit in, which might actually give you both a chance in besting me."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You really just went there, didn't you?"

"I'm already regretting what sort of karma is going to slap me in the face."

"It's starting now." She reached into her bag, showcasing the thick stack of posters neatly kept inside. "They need to be stuck up around the school and you're going to help me now."

Matthew looked helplessly at his other friend. "We'll get it done even faster with an extra pair of hands."

Harry slowly took the boy's half-eaten croissant, knowing that he wasn't going to get the chance to finish it now. Not when Hermione was seeking vengeance. "Nope. You're not dragging me into this. You're finally learning what sort of trouble your big mouth can get you into."

"Like I didn't know that already," Matthew grumbled, pushing himself up from the bench and looking forlornly at the food he was abandoning. "I'll never learn."

xxxxxxxxxx

"Again!"

Hermione was sweating. Her limbs were aching, protesting at every attempt to move them. She was sure that her vision was also becoming worryingly blurry. And yet Matthew kept pushing her, barking commands as if he were a drill sergeant. Within the confines of his Tardis, that was basically his role, not that she was particularly happy whenever his persona changed. Ever since they'd restarted her training following the incident in the graveyard (as they were now referring to it), Matthew's intensity had quadrupled, as if witnessing her progress was a burning passion of his. She might have been grateful for the pressure, always being one to thrive when there was something to become better at, if it hadn't been so unrelenting.

"Matthew," she panted. "I'm tired." A well-placed chair allowed her to flop down heavily, accentuating her point.

"That means it's working," he countered. "Come on, just a little bit more. You were doing so well!"

Hermione threw her head back, staring at the ceiling that probably shouldn't have been spinning as much as it was in her vision. "Do you think compliments are going to get me to carry on?"

"I was hoping that it'd be a decent tactic, yeah."

"A short break…that's all I need."

"I just want to make the most of the time we have. Between classes, homework, Harry's personal sessions, and the new group that's starting up, we only have a limited window in the week."

"I know, I know. And, trust me, I appreciate the effort you're going to. But I do also just want to hang out with you. Or have you forgotten that?"

Matthew smirked. Before Hermione could tell what was happening, the chair she was sitting on was replaced by a cushy sofa, not unlike the ones that decorated the Gryffindor common room. This was done without her ever being at risk of falling to the floor, though she still made sure to glare at the boy approaching her for his nerve to perform unexpected magic. It was difficult to be too annoyed with him when he was joining her on the newly-conjured seat, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and making it perfectly clear why he'd made the change.

"I remind myself daily of how lucky I am, miss Granger."

"Smooth. Very smooth."

"I've been practising."

"Just as much as I've been practising wielding old magic?"

"Probably even more so."

She gently rested her head against him. "At least you've obviously been having a lot more success than I am."

Matthew slightly shifted, if only so that he could give her a pointed look. "What are you talking about? You were brilliant tonight! You managed to create balls of pure energy in your palms and then fire them at the targets."

"I missed though."

The aforementioned targets were still standing in the secluded room, one of the many areas that the Tardis had to offer for their private sessions. The frustrating part about them from Hermione's perspective was that they weren't bearing any marks of her previous attacks. The reason for that was evidenced immediately behind them, with the wall decorated by scorch marks of varying sizes. She'd already made sure to apologise to the Tardis, a ship she didn't want to get on the wrong side of.

"That's not important. Accuracy will come in time."

"I'm also absolutely shattered as soon as I access that specific part of my magic."

"Again, that's perfectly understandable. You're asking your body to reach into a previously untapped source of energy and then use that for these activities. It's going to put you under a massive strain until the first part eventually comes naturally to you."

She eyed him warily. "You're not going to listen to any of my arguments, are you?"

"Not a chance."

"I just don't want this to be a waste of time for you."

"How could you possibly think that? I'd do anything for you."

Hermione cupped his cheek affectionately. "You've proven that, I know. But…sometimes I feel that you're just as tired as I am but you purposefully hide it. For what end, I'm not so sure. Maybe you think that showing your own tiredness will encourage me to give up…"

"Would that happen?"

"No!" She rolled her eyes, though it was an act laced with love. "I think you're so focused on helping me and Harry that you often forget to look after yourself as well. You're pushing yourself far too hard."

"We can worry about my wellbeing once you can protect yourself."

"That's not something we're going to agree on."

"I didn't expect us to."

"Is this what everything is all about? That I can't protect myself if something happens?"

"Of course it is!"

"I don't appreciate the lack of faith you have in my abilities…"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about. You're only with me right now because Harry was able to use magic that he shouldn't have had access to, if you look at it from a solely logical perspective. The only way that Voldemort or his followers don't lay a hand on you is if you can use that same power. So maybe that's why I've been stricter in our sessions. But I won't apologise for that."

His gaze was intense as he looked at her. "That night…I came so, so close to losing both of you. I've already told you about what that was like. Since that moment, all I've been able to think about is what might have happened if you weren't looking. I adore you, Hermione, and if there's a way to ensure I never have to go through that again, then I'm going to pursue it with everything I've got."

"And risk burning yourself out?"

"I know you'll be there to catch me if I fall out of weariness."

"I'm being serious, Matthew. We discussed ensuring that we all enjoyed our time at Hogwarts, despite everything that tries to pull us away from that. We agreed we'd do that."

"I know," he admitted.

"Maybe if you start training me and Harry together, that'll free up some time."

"You're at different stages though. Harry's still working on his focus, which won't be helped by having someone else there."

"And what am I working on exactly?"

She was always curious, always wanting to learn something new. Normally, she wouldn't have been so willing to hear any criticisms about herself, viewing such a thing as shameful failures. But she understood that the present situation meant she couldn't cling onto those scruples anymore. Not to mention the fact that Matthew and Harry had repeatedly told her over the years that it wasn't the end of the world if she wasn't good at every single thing.

"You're being held back by your desire to do this perfectly," Matthew explained. "Like with the targets. You're annoyed with yourself for missing them, whereas I'm thrilled that you were able to produce so much magic in such a short space of time. It's all about altering your mindset, which I know is easier said than done."

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Are you saying that I'm stuck in my ways?"

"I wouldn't dream of it. Mainly because I value my life." He squeezed her hand, earning a smirk in response. "Everything you accomplish, Hermione, is brilliant. Yes, I want you to reach a point where you can properly use this magic, but I'm also reasonable in my expectations. I'll keep believing on your behalf if I have to."

"It's not about belief," she argued. "Because I've seen I can do it. During the second task, I defended myself with pure magic. But that's the frustrating thing. I know it's possible. I know it's within my capabilities. So, when it doesn't work as I want it to, that's when I get inside my own head."

"I may have noticed that."

"It must have been pretty obvious."

"How about we make a deal?"

"I'm listening…"

"We could both do better when it comes to taking it easy on ourselves every now and again. And we can help each other accomplish that."

"Have you got any ideas about how we could do that?"

"Well…you mentioned enjoying our time here…and I'm currently with the most gorgeous girl at Hogwarts…all alone…with no interruptions set to happen anytime soon…"

Hermione was already shifting closer to him. "I like the way you think, Mormont."

xxxxxxxxxx

The Great Hall may not have been as packed as it usually was, but it was definitely busier than Harry had been expecting. Students were filing in, all preparing for whatever the new extracurricular class had in store. Most of them were people he recognised. The Weasley twins, along with their sister. Neville was hovering awkwardly next to the siblings as he waited for the session to start. Cedric Diggory gave him a curt nod upon arrival before returning to a conversation with Cho Chang. But the most surprising part was the inclusion of a number of students who he'd never had the chance to speak to before, all of whom were apparently eager to learn better ways to defend themselves in case of an attack.

With how carefree the atmosphere had grown around Hogwarts as of late, the healthy attendance filled Harry with an unusual sense of optimism. He'd been worried that people weren't going to take the growing crisis seriously, despite the public attention that Voldemort's return had been given. A few members of the student populace, such as Seamus Finnegan, enjoyed spending their time denouncing the rumours, claiming that it was all part of a scare mongering tactic by the Ministry to keep the wizarding population subdued. With what he'd seen from the herd mentality in the past, including when they'd turned on him during the Triwizard Tournament, Harry was pleasantly relieved to see that that mindset hadn't permeated across a larger group.

He was just as surprised at the set up of the hall. Whilst the regular tables had been removed, there was no raised platform as there had been during the duelling club. It made him wonder just what sort of tasks they would be given. His mind wandered to that point in his second year, marvelling at just how far they'd come. He remembered how easily Matthew had been able to defend himself against his attacks when they'd been pitted against one another. Although it wasn't the healthiest of mindsets to be driving him, there was a large part of Harry that really wanted to get an element of revenge.

Harry looked at Hermione. "Did Dumbledore say who was teaching the first meeting?"

The girl shrugged. "Believe it or not, he doesn't tell me everything."

"This better not be where I'm expected to take charge," Matthew grumbled.

"Would I really pull a trick like that?"

"If you thought it would be to my benefit, yes. You probably believe that forcing me into this position will make me more agreeable."

"Trust me, Matthew, when I say I've never seen you like that."

"I don't know how to approach this," Harry admitted, scanning the faces of the students around them. Most of them were already staring at him in return and only a few of them were polite enough to avert their gaze when he spotted them.

Hermione looked at him in concern. "What do you mean?"

"I want to do well in this group, obviously. And I feel I could beat most people here, even the older students."

"It's nice to hear you being so confident for a change," Matthew noted.

"But I also don't want to be the centre of attention. I want everyone else to learn these vital skills. So maybe it's best if I take it easy, at least tonight."

"Sadly, I think everyone is going to be focusing on you no matter what you do," Hermione pointed out.

Matthew nodded his head. "Not to mention the fact that, if you're embarrassed in a duel because you're not acting to your full potential, that story is going to spread like wildfire. The fabled Harry Potter, the one the Prophet is saying is our only chance against Voldemort , getting beaten wouldn't fill people with a lot of confidence. And that's a valuable resource at the moment."

Hermione glared at him. "You're putting too much pressure on him!"

"I'm just being honest. Like it or not, the public need a figurehead to look to when times get tough. Harry's being fashioned into that role."

"There's Dumbledore," Harry reminded him. "Everyone will have faith in him instead of me."

"People love young blood. You're a hero in their eyes. I've read some of the letters that people send in for the paper."

"I thought you didn't spend any time on that rag," Hermione argued.

"They have some interesting articles on occasion. And it's certainly more appealing since Skeeter mysteriously lost all her credibility and employment."

"Does this mean that you're going to let me win?" Harry wondered, smiling at his friend. "If it's so important that I have a sparkling reputation, then surely it's in everyone's best interests for you to let me win a duel."

Matthew's face may as well have been carved from stone. "Normally, I'd applaud you for manipulating the situation in your favour…"

"I'm not hearing a no."

"It'd be a hollow victory if I just let you win."

"I'll take it, hollow or not."

"Hermione, tell him."

"Tell him what?" she asked innocently. "I think it'll also do you some good to get knocked down. It can't be solely down to me to keep your ego in check."

"You're supposed to be on my side."

"I am. Of course I am. And I'll be by your side when you need a helping hand to get up off the floor."

They were disturbed from their gentle bickering by the unmistakable sound of the back entrance to the hall slamming open. That was soon followed by the rhythmic thumping of a wooden leg as it banged against the floor. Alastor Moody had made a memorable entrance at the start of the previous academic year, and it appeared that he was keeping up the new tradition. His whirring blue eye seemed to scan everyone in attendance though it was somehow not as intrusive as his natural brown one. With how unimpressed he looked, Harry started to doubt that he'd actually been invited.

"Oh, this is going to be spectacular," Matthew murmured close to his ear.

Harry was feeling a similar level of excitement, though it was tempered somewhat by just how imposing a figure the retired Auror cut. He hadn't been granted the opportunity to see Moody's skills with a wand in action as much as he might have liked, leaving him chomping at the bit to see it up close. As talented as Matthew was, he didn't have the actual experience of being involved in life-or-death duels, or so Harry believed. There was a lot to be learnt from Moody that would be beneficial for the upcoming conflict, explaining why he was standing before them now. After Harry had seen just how scared the Death Eaters had been by his appearance, he was hoping to take some of that aura from the battle-scarred man.

"Right, you lot," Moody barked. "Have you been told to just stand there and gawp at me? Because you're doing a stellar job if so."

No one dared speak as he prowled the stage, a far cry from the persona Dumbledore showcased when he was delivering speeches from the same spot. The crazed-looking wizard may have spent the past year with them to help out with the tournament's security, but that didn't mean anyone felt relaxed or comfortable in his company. Harry may have respected the man after what he'd accomplished in his line of work, but they hadn't spent a great deal of time together, meaning any sort of trust he had in him was superficial at best. Moody was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, which surely meant he wasn't about to cast hexes at them.

"Albus…I mean your dear headmaster…has asked me to take out time from my busy schedule to prepare you for the quickly approaching apocalypse," Moody pressed on. "In my opinion, it's one of the wisest decisions he's made in a very long time, though don't tell him I said that. You're all going to need to be a lot tougher to survive what's to come and I'm best placed to get you as close to that reality as possible. I expect you to follow every command I give and to put everything you have into every spell you use." He paused, as if challenging anyone to speak their mind or protest. "That being said, get your wands out and prepare to learn a thing or two…"

xxxxxxxxxx

"I don't think I'll ever walk properly again."

The trio emerged from the hall amongst a crowd of weary, shattered students. Harry was limping, rubbing his thigh, already picturing the bruises that must have been forming. For once, Matthew didn't look as composed as his normal self, stretching out his arm with a grimace, whilst Hermione was relatively unscathed. A fact that, judging from her smug expression, she was going to laud over them for quite some time. The other kids around them were muttering complaints about the gruelling exercises, only now voicing their grumblings since Moody was out of earshot. If they'd learnt anything, it was that they should be more terrified of the wizard than they'd initially presumed.

Surprisingly, given the reputation that preceded him, Moody had focused on the use of shields in combat. He claimed that anyone who couldn't conjure a worthwhile defence was basically a dead man walking, which wasn't the sort of pep talk most of the group had been looking for. What that had entailed was primarily an excuse for Moody to fire an unholy amount of spells in their general direction, putting their shields to the test. Whilst the trio were fairly well versed in that particular arena, a lot of the group members were now considering a trip to Madam Pomfrey, as well as preemptively booking themselves in for repeat visits for when the next session occurred.

"I tell you something, you quick to come up with the idea of using a stone construct to defend yourself," Matthew applauded him. "Though letting several of them drop on me wasn't ideal."

"That was sort of the plan," Harry pointed out.

"That's what I was worried about."

"It definitely put you on the backfoot."

"Straight into the path of Hermione's tripping hex."

"I'd pat myself on the back if it wasn't for the fact that she got me with the same spell."

Hermione smiled brightly. "What can I say? You were so focused on proving your masculinity in fighting one another that you forgot something dreadfully important: I'm just as good with a wand."

"That's not something you're going to let us forget," Matthew said as he continued to inspect his wound.

"I didn't hurt you too badly, did I?"

"Nothing that you can't fix with a…"

"I don't want to hear it," Harry quickly blurted out, cutting off that conversation before it got too graphic.

Matthew smirked, looking like he was about to say something when his expression promptly shifted into a frown. "What do you think she's doing here?"

He nodded his head to a spot further down the corridor, in which Umbridge was standing. It didn't seem that she was trying to hide, given her garish pink outfit. She was writing something down in a notebook that hovered in front of her, jotting separate comments down as different students wandered past her. Harry liked to see the best in people, but even he had to admit that she was looking suspiciously shifty. She hadn't shown herself during the session, which added to the mystery of her presence.

"Looks like she's spying on us," Harry hypothesised.

"She's a pretty poor spy if she's trying to blend in like that," Matthew countered.

"That's exactly the point," Hermione said. "She doesn't need to blend in. She's got Ministry approval to be here, along with Dumbledore's apparent blessing. It's no wonder that she's been walking around Hogwarts like she owns the place. I don't want to jump to conclusions…but I wouldn't be surprised if she's using this opportunity to assess the state of teaching in the school."

Harry's face went pale. "Then she's going to have a field day with what Moody had us doing. It's a miracle that Hogwarts doesn't have to worry about Ofsted."

Hermione bit her lip. "Until now, apparently."