Izar found himself in the now unfortunately familiar office of Professor Umbridge. He had been marched here from the Great Hall, with Umbridge refusing to speak to him the entire way. Now, he sat in front of her desk, staring at the sickly sweet smile on her face as she looked him up and down.

"It has come to my attention," she began, folding her hands neatly on the desk, "that there are certain rumours currently being spread around the school regarding yourself, Mr. Lestrange."

Izar's jaw tightened, but he forced himself to remain calm. "Yes, Professor," he replied, his voice steady. "Terrence Avery outed me."

"Outed?" Umbridge repeated, her tone dripping with mock concern as she leaned in as if to hear him better. "Whatever do you mean?" she asked, tilting her head slightly with a small pout that made Izar's stomach churn.

Izar shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wishing more than anything to be anywhere else. "I'm… gay," Izar said slowly, the words feeling heavy in his mouth. "And Avery has told everyone… without my permission"

Umbridge's smile widened, but it was devoid of warmth. "Such a pity," she cooed, her voice insincere. "I'm sure it must be quite... embarrassing. I am sure you would agree, it's important to maintain decorum and proper behaviour, we can't have this happening."

Izar nodded, trying to keep his voice steady. "Yes. He shouldn't have done it," he said, looking at her for some semblance of understanding. "He had no right to tell anyone else, or spread it around the whole school."

"Oh," Umbridge said, placing a hand on her chest in mock surprise, "I was talking about you, my dear boy." Her voice was laced with condescension as she continued, "Your... situation has caused quite a stir, and we can't have your 'outing', as you put it, disrupting the harmony of the school environment, now can we? Its not in line with a productive learning environment to have distracting information circulating."

Izar's eyes narrowed, suspicion growing in his chest. "What are you saying?"

Umbridge's expression hardened, her tone turning cold and calculating. "I'm saying, Mr. Lestrange, that your... lifestyle choices are not something we should be encouraging here at Hogwarts. It's... inappropriate and a distraction to the other students. What is some of the precious first years hear about this and think that they also have an inalienable right to be homosexual? The Ministry expects certain standards. It does not recognise same-sex relationships, and neither will Hogwarts."

Izar felt a surge of anger, his fists clenching tighter. "Me being gay isn't a distraction or a risk to any other student," he said through gritted teeth. "It's just who I am."

Umbridge's eyes flashed with a twisted satisfaction. "Be that as it may, we must maintain order. As such, I believe a little... reminder of proper behaviour is in order."

Izar's stomach dropped. She couldn't be serious. Punishing him for something he had no control over? For simply being who he was? But the malicious gleam in her eyes told him that she was entirely serious.

Reaching into her desk, Umbridge pulled out the small, black quill that Izar had become all too familiar with. She placed it on the desk in front of him with a delicate touch, as though it were a prized possession.

"You will write, 'I will not engage in inappropriate behaviour'," she instructed, her voice sweetened with a cruel edge.

Izar's heart pounded in his chest, a mix of fear and defiance bubbling up inside him. He swallowed hard, knowing he had no choice but to comply. "You can't do this," he protested, his voice shaking with fury. "It's... it's not right."

Umbridge's smile only widened. "Oh, but I can, Mr. Lestrange," she purred. "The Ministry has given me full authority to ensure that all students adhere to the rules. And as High Inquisitor, I am well within my rights to enforce them as I see fit. Failure to follow my instructions can lead to expulsion."

Feeling cornered, Izar took a deep breath and reluctantly picked up the quill. The sharp sting as he began to write each letter was excruciating, the words "I will not engage in inappropriate behaviour" carving themselves into his skin. The pain was intense, but he refused to let Umbridge see him break.

When she finally allowed him to stop, Izar placed the quill down, his hand throbbing. He looked at the fresh, red wounds on his hand, feeling a surge of defiance despite the pain.

"You're dismissed," Umbridge said, her tone final. "And remember, Mr. Lestrange, this school has no place for... distractions. Keep that in mind."

Izar stood up, fighting the urge to retaliate, and exited the office. He walked as far as he could before the tears began to form in his eyes, hastily wiping them away. He could handle the words, the stares, even Avery's threats. But having a professor harm him because of who he was, because he was gay was a wound far deeper than the one on his hand.

"Ah, Mr. Lestrange, there you are," came a concerned voice from behind. Izar looked up to see Hermione and Professor McGonagall hurrying toward him, worry etched on both their faces. "I do hope Professor Umbridge wasn't too harsh on you," McGonagall said, her sharp eyes scanning him before landing on his hand.

"I think a trip to the Hospital Wing is in order," she said, her tone brooking no argument as she gently guided him forward.

Izar shook his head weakly. "I'm fine, Professor," he insisted. "It's not the first time."

"Not the first time?" McGonagall's voice was laced with disbelief and anger. "If I had it my way, she'd be out of this castle faster than a Snitch at the World Cup!" Izar gave a small laugh despite himself, and McGonagall's tone softened. "Unfortunately, the Minister has given her authority, but I'll do whatever I can to help you, Mr. Lestrange."

As McGonagall led Izar down the corridor, Hermione walked beside him, her face pale with worry. She glanced at his hand, her eyes widening when she saw the fresh wounds etched into his skin.

"That quill again, wasn't it?" Hermione whispered, her voice trembling with anger. Izar nodded, unable to speak. The pain in his hand was nothing compared to the humiliation that still burned inside him.

McGonagall glanced over at Hermione, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Miss Granger, please inform Madam Pomfrey that we're on our way. Make sure she's ready."

Hermione nodded quickly and hurried ahead, leaving Izar alone with McGonagall.

As they continued walking, McGonagall spoke softly, her voice laced with regret. "Mr. Lestrange, I want you to know that what happened in there... it's not right. You should never be punished for who you are."

Izar felt a lump form in his throat, but he managed to nod. "Thank you, Professor," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

They approached the Hospital Wing, the towering doors looming ahead. McGonagall opened one of them and gently guided Izar inside. The familiar scent of antiseptic potions filled the air, and the soft hum of magical equipment provided a strange sense of calm. Madam Pomfrey, ever vigilant, quickly noticed their entrance and hurried over.

"Another one of Professor Umbridge's victims, I see," she muttered, her voice full of disapproval as she looked at Izar's hand. She ushered him to a bed and sat him down. "Hold still, dear, this will sting a bit." She began to apply a salve to the wound, the cool, tingling sensation bringing some relief.

Hermione stood by, her face pale with anger. "She can't keep doing this, Professor," Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's not right."

McGonagall's lips thinned, her eyes filled with the same indignation. "I agree, Miss Granger. But until the Ministry sees reason, I'm afraid we must be cautious. We can't fight her directly… not yet."

Izar winced as the salve seeped into his skin, the pain subsiding gradually. He glanced up at McGonagall. "Is there really nothing we can do? She's... she's going to keep hurting people."

McGonagall looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and resolve. "You've already done something, Mr. Lestrange. You stood up to her. That's no small feat, especially given your circumstances. But for now, our priority is to protect ourselves and each other. And I promise you, we're not alone in this fight."

Madam Pomfrey finished bandaging Izar's hand and patted his shoulder gently. "You'll be alright now, dear. Just make sure you don't strain that hand for a while."

Izar nodded, grateful for the care, but the heaviness in his chest remained. He stood up, ready to leave, when McGonagall spoke again. "I'll walk you back to the common room, Izar. We wouldn't want any more... incidents."

As they made their way back through the castle, Hermione fell into step beside him, her presence comforting. They walked in silence for a while, the tension between them thick, but not uncomfortable. Izar could tell Hermione was still fuming over what had happened, and part of him wanted to comfort her, to tell her it was okay, even though he didn't quite believe it himself.

"Thank you," Izar finally said, his voice breaking the silence.

Hermione turned to him, her eyes filled with concern. "For what?"

"For being there," Izar replied, his voice soft. "I don't know what I'd do without you. It feels like everything's falling apart... and then you show up, and it doesn't seem so bad."

Hermione gave him a small, reassuring smile. "That's what friends are for, Izar. You're not alone in this, okay? We're all in this together."

As they approached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, McGonagall stopped, her stern gaze softening slightly. "Remember, Mr. Lestrange, you have allies in this castle. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to come to me. We'll find a way through this, I promise."

Izar nodded, appreciating her words more than he could express. With a final glance at Hermione and McGonagall, he whispered the password and stepped inside the Slytherin common room.

The moment he entered, the murmur of conversation died down, and all eyes turned toward him. The tension was palpable, and Izar could feel the weight of every gaze on him. Some looked at him with curiosity, others with disdain, and a few with outright hostility. He clenched his fists, trying to steady his nerves.

Blaise was sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire, his face impassive as he watched Izar. Pansy sat nearby, whispering something to Daphne Greengrass, both of them casting sidelong glances at him. Draco was nowhere to be seen, but Izar didn't care. He had no interest in another confrontation.

As he walked toward the staircase leading to the dormitories, Blaise called out to him. "Izar."

Izar paused, turning to face him. Blaise's expression was unreadable, but there was no malice in his voice. "Come sit with us," Blaise said, gesturing to the empty chair beside him.

Izar hesitated for a moment before making his way over and sitting down. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its warmth doing little to ease the chill that had settled in his bones.

"So you're gay then?" Pansy asked bluntly looking at Izar with narrowed eyes.
Izar met her gaze head-on, refusing to back down. "Yes, I am."

Pansy looked surprised by his straightforwardness, but she didn't say anything more. Blaise leaned back in his chair, studying Izar with a thoughtful expression. "You know, this changes things, for all of us," he said slowly, "we need to be a united front in Slytherin, even if we… disagree with the way others go about it" he said, choosing his words carefully.
"So you don't mind that I am gay?" Izar asked, trying to make sense out of Blaise's words.
"I'm happy to tolerate it," he said his voice neutral, "just try not to… flaunt it."

Izar felt a wave of mixed emotions at Blaise's words. On one hand, he was relieved that Blaise wasn't outright rejecting him like others might have, but on the other, the conditional acceptance stung. Tolerate it. Don't flaunt it. The words echoed in his mind, a reminder that, even among those he considered friends, there were limits to their understanding.

Pansy shifted in her seat, crossing her arms as she observed the exchange. "I suppose as long as you don't start flirting with every bloke in the common room, and snogging them in the middle of the room, I can live with it," she said, her tone slightly softer than before.

Izar let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of their words pressing down on him. "I'm not here to make anyone uncomfortable," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "But I won't hide who I am, either. I've spent too long pretending to be something I'm not."

Blaise regarded him quietly for a moment before nodding. "Fair enough. Just… be careful, Izar. There are others here who aren't as tolerant as we are."

"I know," Izar replied, his gaze drifting over the common room and to the others who were staring at him openly. He knew all too well the dangers of being open about who he was, especially in a place like Slytherin. But he couldn't go back to hiding, not after everything that had happened.

Daphne, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke up, her voice surprisingly gentle. "For what it's worth, Izar, I don't really care who you like, but if your up for it you can come shopping with me on the next Hogsmeade trip, I've heard gay men have the best fashion sense"

Izar gave a small laugh, "Thanks, Daphne, but I don't think I'm the best person to give fashion advise."

The conversation lapsed into a somewhat uneasy silence, the crackling of the fire filling the void. Izar leaned back in his chair, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety. He had faced the worst of it, or so he hoped. But the road ahead was still uncertain, and he knew that this was only the beginning.

After a few moments, Blaise broke the silence with a change of topic. "So, how about that upcoming Quidditch match? Think Gryffindor's got a chance against us this year?"

As the conversation continued to flow, the sound of the common room door creaking open drew their attention. Draco Malfoy walked in, his expression as cool and composed as ever. He paused in the doorway, his sharp eyes sweeping over the group gathered around the fire. For a brief moment, his gaze locked with Izar's, and the tension in the room seemed to double.

Draco's eyes flicked to Blaise, who was lounging in the armchair beside Izar, then to Pansy and Daphne, who were still seated nearby. The sight of them all sitting together, seemingly relaxed and talking, clearly caught him off guard. His lips curled into a slight sneer as he stepped further into the room.

"Well, isn't this cozy," Draco drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Did I miss an invitation to the latest Slytherin social?"

Pansy looked up at Draco with a small smile, "Oh, Draco, we were just discussing how Gryffindor doesn't stand a chance against us in the next Quidditch match. You know, the usual."

Draco's gaze lingered on Izar, the tension between them palpable. "Is that so?" he said, his voice low. "And here I thought we'd be discussing something a bit more... relevant."

Blaise, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, leaned back in his chair with an air of nonchalance. "Just talking, Draco. No need to make it a big deal."

But Draco wasn't ready to let it go. His eyes narrowed slightly as he addressed Izar directly. "I see you've made yourself comfortable here, Izar. Trying to win people over, make them accept you?"

Izar met Draco's gaze, refusing to back down despite the undercurrent of tension. "Just catching up with my friends," he said evenly. "Nothing more."

Draco's expression remained unreadable as he took in the scene. For a moment, it seemed as though he might say something more, but then he simply gave a curt nod and turned making his way toward the staircase that led to the dormitories. The room remained quiet for a few moments after he left, the weight of his presence lingering in the air.

Blaise was the first to break the silence, his voice calm but laced with tension. "Well, that was... something."

Izar let out a slow breath, his mind still reeling from the brief but charged exchange. "Yeah," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "It was."

Pansy shot him a look, her expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. "Don't let him get to you, Izar. Draco's... complicated, we all know that."

Izar nodded, though his thoughts were already elsewhere. He knew this was just the beginning of what was likely to be a long and difficult journey. But if there was one thing he had learned, it was that he couldn't afford to back down not now, not ever.

The next day dawned cold and overcast, the early morning light struggling to break through the thick grey clouds that blanketed the atmosphere in the common room had improved from yesterday, the small show of support, if you could call it that, from his fellow fifth years seems to push the younger years in line. The day dragged on in a blur of classes and whispered conversations and stares from other students, but his mind was elsewhere, focused on what was to come later.

As the final class of the day ended, Izar made his way to the seventh floor, the location of the Room of Requirement fresh in his mind. He was excited for what was to come his heart pounded in his chest as he approached the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. The corridor was quiet, and he thought that he might be the first one there.

He passed by the blank stretch of wall three times, thinking about the need for a place to practice Defence Against the Dark Arts, the door to the Room of Requirement appeared with a soft click. Izar hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside.
The room was as grand as the last time he had been in there. Large bookshelves were around the walls, along with some sofas and chairs, and training dummies were scattered around the room. There was no one else here yet, so Izar scanned the shelves of books looking at the titles, there were various books that all looked to be different ages. Izar wondered where the room was getting them from, some of the books seemed to be quite old, ancient even.

As his fingers danced over the spines of the books on the shelves the door to the room opened, and Harry, Ron and Hermione entered, followed by a few other Gryffindor students. Hermione came over to ask how he was doing and to set up the map on one of the desks so they could check on the outside. Izar explained what his Slytherin friends had done and she smiled saying that she knew others would come around.
They spent the next few minutes checking the map and going out to collect people and show them how to enter the room themselves and it was not long before the room was much more full. Everyone seemed to be speaking to each other, with excited voices over what was going to happen today. Izar was helping Hermione set up the training dummies as he scanned to room of faces.

He caught sight of Oliver Butler standing off to the side, chatting with Cho Chang and a few other Ravenclaws. His heart did a small flip at the sight of Oliver, he had removed his school robe and was just in his shirt, his muscles much more visible as a result. He quickly looked away, trying to focus on the task at hand. It looked like Oliver noticed as he whispered something to Cho before making his way over to Izar. Hermione seemed to notice this and gave him a small nudge before slipping away herself.
Izar's pulse quickened as he watched Oliver approach, his footsteps light and confident. The room seemed to fade into the background, the excited chatter of the other students becoming a distant hum as Oliver stopped in front of him, a playful glint in his eye.

"Hey, it's Izar, right?" Oliver asked with a grin, his voice low and teasing, "Caught you staring."

Izar felt his face heat up, and he quickly busied himself with adjusting one of the training dummies. "Wasn't staring," he muttered, though the slight smile tugging at his lips betrayed his attempt at nonchalance.

"Sure you weren't," Oliver replied, clearly amused. He leaned in a little closer, his presence warm and distracting. "But if you were, I wouldn't mind. I'd be flattered, actually." He helped Izar lift one of the dummies that was on the ground upright with ease, his muscles stretching under his school shirt.

Izar was a bit taken aback by Oliver's confidence and forwardness, he seemed so confident but seemed to do it in a way that did not come across as cocky or obnoxious, rather as if he had known you for years and you were his best friend.

"Thanks for that," Izar said, trying to keep his tone light and he steadied the dummy and patted it. "But I wasn't staring just… making sure everyone was settled. Didn't want any chaos, you know?"

Oliver chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Right, of course. The responsible thing to do," his voice softer, he paused for a moment. "Speaking of being settled, I've just wanted to ask... how are you holding up? You know, after… everything."

Izar blinked in surprise at the question. He still wasn't used to people asking him how he was really doing and hearing the genuine concern in Oliver's voice caught him off guard. He paused for a moment, setting aside the dummy and facing Oliver fully.

"It's been... a lot," Izar admitted, his voice low. "But, some people have already come around, the others in my year have been… better than expected" his mind drifted to Draco for a moment, "well… most have" he added.

Oliver nodded, his gaze steady on Izar's. "People can be cruel when they don't understand something. When I first came out… it was hard" he admitted with a sigh, "but my Dads come around now, think he's had experience in the kind of coming out thing with my mum telling him she's a witch," he laughed, "and sure I get a few people that have an issue, but that's their problem, not mine."
Izar nodded, he did not want to lower the tone of the conversation by mentioning his parents and what their reaction to him being gay would be if they were not in Azkaban.

He was about to respond when Harry cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. Izar and Oliver both turned to look at him. "Alright, everyone, thanks for coming. We're here because we all know what's being taught in Defence Against the Dark Arts this year… well, it's not enough. We need to be prepared for what's out there, and we can't rely on Umbridge or the Ministry to teach us what we need to know."

There were murmurs of agreement around the room, and Harry continued, outlining his plan to help them all learn real defensive magic. He began to go over what he knew and how he had gone about using it in real life. Harry had gone through so much in just four years, Izar could not imagine doing half of the things he had done.
"Today, we're going to start with something that every witch and wizard should know. We're going to practice the Shield Charm, Protego."

A ripple of excitement ran through the room as Harry continued. "The Shield Charm is essential. It can protect you from hexes, jinxes, and most minor curses. When cast correctly, it creates a barrier between you and your opponent, blocking their spells. It's simple in theory, but it takes practice to master."

He glanced around the room, his eyes meeting those of his fellow students—some nervous, others eager, all of them ready to learn. Harry raised his wand, demonstrating the movement with precision. "The incantation is Protego, and the wand movement is like this—" He swished his wand in a smooth, upward arc. "Firm, but not too aggressive. You want to focus on creating a barrier, not attacking."

To demonstrate, Harry stepped back a little and nodded to Hermione. "Hermione's going to cast a spell at me, and I'll show you how Protego works."

Hermione stepped forward, her expression focused as she raised her wand. "Ready, Harry?"

Harry nodded, his stance relaxed but prepared. "Ready."

Hermione pointed her wand at Harry and called out, "Expelliarmus!" A jet of red light shot from her wand, hurtling toward Harry.

With a sharp flick of his wrist, Harry intoned, "Protego!" A shimmering, translucent barrier appeared in front of him, absorbing the force of Hermione's spell. The red light dissipated harmlessly against the shield, and Harry remained unharmed.

The room erupted in applause and murmurs of awe. Harry lowered his wand, the shield fading, and offered a small smile. "And that's how it's done. Now, I want everyone to pair up and start practising. Remember, focus on your intent. You're not just casting a spell—you're protecting yourself. If you get it right, you'll feel the magic solidify between you and the spell."
The room broke into chatter as everyone began pairing up and finding someone to work with, a small nudge on his shoulder broke Izar out of his daze. Izar felt a flutter of nerves as he turned to face Oliver, who was grinning at him with that easy charm that always seemed to make Izar's heart race. He tried to suppress a smile, but it was difficult when Oliver looked at him like that like he saw something in Izar that was worth noticing, worth caring about. It was a look that made Izar feel both exposed and exhilarated as if Oliver could see through all the walls he'd built around himself.

Trying to steady his racing heart, Izar nodded, feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety at the prospect of working with him. It wasn't just that Oliver was good-looking, though, Merlin, was he, but there was something about the way Oliver treated him, with a casual ease that made Izar feel almost... normal. Like he wasn't the son of Bellatrix Lestrange, or the target of half the school's whispers, or the boy who had been outed against his will.

"Partners?" Oliver asked, his tone light and teasing, "Try not to hex me too badly, yeah?"

"Deal," Izar replied, his voice steady, though his mind was buzzing. "But no promises if you're not quick enough with your shield."

He took a deep breath, as they positioned themselves several feet away from each other, he tried to focus on the task at hand. This was about practising magic, not getting lost in how Oliver's eyes seemed to sparkle when he smiled.

"Ready?" Oliver asked, his tone shifting slightly, becoming more serious.

Izar nodded, positioning his wand. "Ready."

Oliver cast first, his wand moving with quick precision as he called out, "Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!" Izar yelled out, moving his wand up, a shimmering barrier formed in front of him for a few seconds before shattering when hit by Oliver's spell, allowing it to pass through and send his wand flying out his hand.

"That was a good first try" came the voice of Harry, as he picked up Izar's want and handed it back to him, "but you want to do it more like this," he said demonstrating the wand movements again for Izar, which he mimicked. "It's all about intention as well, you can say the words and do the movement, but if there's no meaning behind the words, its useless" he explained, "picture a shield in your mind when doing it."

Izar nodded and gripped his wand tight as he turned to Oliver, nodding for him to go again. Feeling a bit more confident this time.
"Expelliarmus!" Oliver said, flicking his want towards Izar.

Izar focused, feeling the intent behind his words as he shouted, "Protego!" A shimmering barrier formed in front of him, just in time to deflect the disarming spell, before disappearing quickly.

"Nice one," Oliver said, genuinely impressed, "that was really good."

Izar couldn't help but smile at the compliment. "Thanks" he said giving a small playful bow with a laugh. "Your turn"he said as he steadied himself, as he took a deep breath, focusing on the spell he was about to cast. "Stupefy!" he called out, sending a bolt of red light toward Oliver.

"Protego!" In an instant, Oliver's shield appeared, much quicker and larger than the one Izar had conjured moments ago, deflecting the spell with ease. Oliver let out a small laugh as he looked at Izar, "Going straight for the stunner eh?" He joked, "Maybe I was going too easy on you with expelliarmus"

Izar grinned, feeling a sense of accomplishment at how well his spell had worked, even if it was just a step in the right direction. "Well, didn't want to make it too easy for you," he replied with a playful glint in his eyes. "Figured I'd keep you on your toes."

Oliver chuckled, shaking his head. "Fair enough. But don't be surprised if I start stepping up my game too." He readied his wand, his stance shifting as he prepared for the next round. "Let's see what you've got."

Izar felt a thrill of excitement as they squared off again, the atmosphere between them charged with friendly competition. This time, he was determined to hold his own. He focused, picturing the shield in his mind just as Harry had advised, and waited for Oliver's move.

"Impedimenta!" Oliver called out, sending a more forceful spell toward Izar.

Izar's heart raced as he brought up his wand. "Protego!" he shouted, pouring all his intent into the spell. The barrier shimmered into existence, stronger and more stable than before. The force of Oliver's spell collided with it, but this time, the shield held, deflecting it harmlessly to the side.

Oliver lowered his wand, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Now that's more like it!" he praised, his tone filled with genuine admiration. "Looks like you're getting the hang of this."

Izar let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. "Thanks. Guess I had a good teacher," he said, glancing briefly at Harry, who was watching them with an approving nod, "but a good partner also helps" he added looking at Oliver with a smile.

"What can I say, I'm just good like that" he said with a smile, "but I think with some more practice, you'll be able to do it with your eyes closed."

The warmth in Oliver's voice sent a pleasant shiver down Izar's spine. He wasn't used to receiving such open praise, especially not from someone he admired. For a moment, he almost forgot they were in the middle of a crowded room filled with other students.

"Alright, alright," Harry's voice cut through the moment, snapping Izar back to reality. "Let's keep practicing. Remember, repetition is key. The more you do it, the better you'll get."

They continued their back-and-forth becoming more relaxed as they grew more comfortable with each other. At one point, Oliver's wand slipped from his grip, and he lunged forward to catch it. He ended up stumbling falling on the ground in front of Izar.
He held out his hand to help the other boy up and as he helped him back to his feet their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to slow down. Izar's breath hitched as he felt the warmth of Oliver's skin against his own, their proximity sending a rush of adrenaline through his veins.

Oliver didn't pull away immediately. Instead, he lingered just a fraction longer than necessary, his gaze flicking between Izar's eyes and lips. A teasing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You know, if you keep this up, I might start thinking you're trying to impress me."

Izar felt his face heat up, but he forced himself to stay calm. "Maybe I am," he replied, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Oliver's grin widened, clearly enjoying the exchange. "Well, consider me impressed."

As they resumed their practice, the atmosphere between them shifted. There was an undeniable chemistry that crackled in the air, a magnetic pull that neither of them could ignore. Each spell cast felt like a game, a dance of sorts, where the stakes were more than just who could disarm the other first. It was a subtle challenge, a way of testing boundaries without crossing them.

When the meeting began to wind down and Harry gathered everyone together again, Izar found himself standing closer to Oliver than before, their shoulders brushing occasionally as they listened to Harry's closing remarks. The fleeting touches sent small sparks of electricity through Izar's skin, making it hard to focus on anything other than the boy beside him.

As the group started to disperse, Oliver turned to Izar, his expression a mix of playful confidence and something softer, more genuine. "Hey, Izar," he said, his voice low enough that only Izar could hear. "How about we meet up sometime? You know, outside of the DA? Maybe you could join me for one of my morning swims if you're up for it?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Izar felt his heart skip a beat at Oliver's suggestion, his mind racing as he tried to process the invitation. The idea of spending more time with Oliver, especially in such a personal setting, was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. He wasn't sure if he was ready for something like that, but the sincerity in Oliver's eyes made it hard to say no.
"Morning swims, huh?" Izar replied, trying to keep his tone light and casual despite the sudden flutter in his chest. "I'm not much of a swimmer, to be honest" he admitted with a small laugh. Then, before he could stop himself, he added, "But I'd love to watch you... I mean, keep you company."

Oliver raised an eyebrow, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Watch me, huh? Well, I can't say I'd mind an audience," he teased his tone light but with a hint of something more.

Izar's face flushed, and he quickly tried to backtrack. "I just meant—"

But Oliver cut him off with a soft chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Relax, Izar. I get it. And honestly, I wouldn't mind the company. You don't have to swim if you're not into it. You can just enjoy the view." He winked.

Izar's heart raced at Oliver's teasing words, and he couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and excitement. The playful wink sent a surge of warmth through him, and he found himself struggling to maintain his composure.

"Enjoy the view, huh?" Izar said, attempting to match Oliver's light tone, though his voice wavered slightly. "I suppose I could do that."

Oliver's grin widened, clearly pleased with Izar's response. "Good. Then it's settled. Tomorrow morning, by the lake. Just you, me, and the sunrise." His voice softened a bit as he added, "It'll be nice, I promise."

Izar nodded, unable to hide the small smile that crept onto his face. "I'll be there."

"Looking forward to it," Oliver said, giving Izar a final, lingering look before turning to rejoin his friends.

As Oliver walked away, Izar felt a warm flush of anticipation spread through him. He stood there for a moment, replaying the conversation in his head, wondering how the morning swim would go and how he would manage to keep his cool around Oliver. His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice behind him.

"Well, well, well… What do we have here?" Hermione's voice was laced with playful curiosity as she appeared by his side, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Izar turned to her, trying and failing to keep a straight face. "What do you mean?" he asked, feigning innocence.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. "Oh, come on, Izar. I was watching you both all the time and you're practically glowing."

Izar let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to those of us who pay attention," Hermione teased, her tone light. "So, are you going to tell me what that was all about, or do I have to guess?"

Izar hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal. But then he sighed, knowing Hermione would likely pry it out of him eventually. "He asked me to join him for a swim tomorrow morning," he admitted, his voice soft.

Hermione's eyes lit up with excitement. "A swim? That sounds like a date to me!" She nudged him with her elbow, her enthusiasm infectious. "Izar, this is amazing! You have to tell me everything."

Izar chuckled, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude for her support. "It's not exactly a date, Hermione. At least, I don't think so. He said I could just keep him company if I didn't want to swim."

Hermione waved a hand dismissively. "Details, details. The fact that he asked you to spend time with him outside of the DA is a pretty big deal, don't you think? Besides, who knows what could happen?"

Izar's heart skipped a beat at the thought. He hadn't let himself fully consider the possibilities yet, but Hermione's words planted a seed of hope in his mind. "Maybe," he said, trying to sound casual even as his excitement grew.

"Just promise me one thing," Hermione said, her tone turning more serious as she looked him in the eye. "Promise you'll be yourself, Izar. Don't overthink it. Just enjoy the moment."

Izar nodded, her words sinking in. "I promise," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thanks, Hermione."

She returned his smile, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. "Anytime. And don't worry—if you need any more advice or someone to gush to, you know where to find me."

Izar felt a wave of warmth and gratitude toward her. In a world that sometimes felt so uncertain and complicated, having a friend like Hermione made all the difference. "I will," he said, meaning it.