Hours later, as Harry strolled through the quiet corridors after the first Lantern Keepers session, the familiar sound of shuffling footsteps approached. He could easily recognise the heavy gait, and the sharp wheezing breaths, of Argus Filch.

After nearly three years of helping Filch deal with Peeves, ghosts, and other nuisances, Harry had formed a strange sort of camaraderie with the man. Even though Harry still felt like he'd dropped the ball after giving the man access to magic.

"Evening, Filch," Harry greeted, glancing over as Filch came into view, his lantern held high before him.

Filch grunted, the tension in his posture easing slightly as he recognized Harry. "Oh, it's you, Potter."

He caught up with Harry easily enough, falling into step beside him as they continued down the corridor.

"Out late again, eh? You heading back to Ravenclaw Tower?" he demanded, though there was a warmth in his tone that most students never heard.

"Yeah, something like that," Harry replied easily, immediately deciding not to turn down such a great excuse. "Just finished up something with a few friends."

Filch huffed, a sound that was more amused than annoyed. "You're lucky it's me who found you. Anyone else would've had you in detention faster than you could say 'Curfew.'"

Harry smirked. "Good thing it's you, then, I wouldn't have let the others find me."

"Aye, I suppose you wouldn't." Filch agreed, shaking his head fondly. They walked in silence for a few moments, the air between them comfortable.

"I reckon you should know," Filch began, his voice quieter than usual. "Umbridge... she's got me on a tight leash these days. I'm expected to follow her orders to the letter, no exceptions."

Harry frowned, sensing something deeper behind Filch's words. "But you don't really agree with her, do you?"

Filch stopped walking for a moment, then sighed, his grip tightening on the lantern. "You know me, Potter. I think some students deserve a good punishment every now and then. Some of 'em are right troublemakers. And, she's already letting me do more than Dumbledore would ever allow himself. But what she's doing... it's not right. She's handing out the same punishment to everyone, no matter the offence. No care for individualising the punishments."

He glanced around, checking the shadows to make sure they were alone. "Umbridge might be giving me the power I've always wanted, but there's no heart in it. No understanding. It's all just control. And I'll tell you something else—she doesn't remember, but years ago she pushed some pretty heavy anti-Squib laws through the Ministry."

Harry hissed through his teeth, immediately understanding the issue. "Anti-Squib laws?"

Filch grunted, clearly still bitter. "Yeah. Made things a lot harder for folks like me. She doesn't even seem to recall it, but I haven't forgotten. Hard to forget the people who try to make your life harder just because you don't have magic."

Harry glanced at Filch, surprised by the depth of emotion in his voice. "And now she's giving you all this power..."

"She thinks I'm grateful," Filch muttered. "Thinks she's handing me everything I've ever wanted. But it's a joke. Just because she's in charge now doesn't mean I've forgiven her. I'll do what I have to, but I'm no fool. You've given me more than anyone else ever could, and for that you've got my respect. So, you'd do well to keep your head down, Potter. She's watching everyone, especially you."

Harry nodded, his respect for Filch deepening. There was more to the caretaker than anyone gave him credit for. "I'll be careful."

Filch huffed again, though it was almost approving. "I've got to follow her orders, but you... you've got some sense, Potter. Don't let her drag you into anything too deep."

They walked in silence again for a few moments before Harry spoke. "It must be frustrating, though, doing what she says when you know it's wrong."

Filch's expression darkened. "It is. But if I don't follow orders, she'll replace me with someone worse. Throw me out. And then where will I be? I grew up in this castle, when my father was the Muggle Studies teacher. Never got any respect, but he did good by me.

"An' Dumbledore was good enough to let me stay, but he can't say no to someone who'd owe him a debt, can he? But Hogwarts is my home, even if he won't let me get rid of you lot, and I won't let anyone drive me out."

They reached the stairwell leading to Ravenclaw Tower, and Filch stopped, his lantern casting a soft glow over the steps.

"Next time, Potter, don't make it so easy for me to catch you wandering around," Filch said with a small, almost amused grumble. "I might not always be in such a generous mood."

Harry smirked, stepping onto the first step. "I'll keep that in mind."

As Filch turned to leave, he hesitated for a moment. "Remember, Potter," he said, his voice softer but more serious than before. "There are bigger things at play here. You might be the only one who can see through what Umbridge is doing. Just... keep your wits about you."

Harry nodded, understanding the weight behind Filch's words. "Goodnight, Filch."

Filch nodded back, then disappeared into the shadows, the soft echo of his footsteps the only sound left behind.

Harry couldn't help smiling at the man's back, before running up the stairs, to the entranceway. He had truthfully been intending to sleep in his own room, as he'd been doing for a while, but if Filch had been enlisted by Umbridge, he'd want to stay under the radar as much as possible.

The Eagle knocker tilted its head slightly, as if in acknowledgment, before its metallic voice lazily rang out. "What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in the evening?"

Harry smiled to himself; the answer was familiar. "A human."

The door swung open with a quiet creak, revealing the circular Ravenclaw common room. The room was mostly empty, a few students tucked into corners with their books, absorbed in their studies.

Harry made his way across the common room, his steps muffled by the plush carpets, feeling a slight unease. The soft glow from the fireplace cast flickering shadows over the walls, making the room feel quiet and warm. But, it had been a long time since he'd spent much time here, and it no longer felt like home.

Blending in felt strange after so long apart, but there were bigger things at play, and Harry knew it. But for now, the weight of the day pressed down on him, and all he wanted was to get some rest. As he pushed open the door to the dormitory, he saw his bed, buried under several trunks and bags.

Terry Boot looked up from his spot near the window, surprised. "Oh. Are you going to be sleeping here again?"

Harry hesitated for only a moment, before charming the clutter to gently lift off his bed and onto the floor. "Yeah. Figured I should, unless that's going to cause problems."

Before Terry could answer, Justin Finch-Fletchley stuck his head out of the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth. "Won't cause any problems," he said around a mouthful of toothpaste, his words garbled but friendly.

Michael Corner, lounging on his bed, contemplating an enchanted orrery, glanced over with a raised eyebrow. "I don't know… Do we want to risk it?"

From the far side of the room, Anthony Goldstein looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow. "We're probably far safer with Harry here than without," he remarked, his voice calm, almost matter-of-fact.

"The Prophet says Harry's gone mad." Michael snorted, staring at him accusingly.

Terry chimed in with a grin. "Harry's always been mad, but that doesn't stop him being decent enough."

Harry gave a small, weary smile. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

He didn't bother unpacking fully, instead removing just the essentials, which he quickly tucked under his pillow. He could feel the weight of the day pressing harder now, the quiet hum of conversation in the dormitory fading into the background. Just as he was about to sit on the edge of his bed, he sensed movement beside him.

Justin Finch-Fletchley stood there, still holding his toothbrush, now wiped clean, his voice quiet. "I'm glad you've come back, Harry. It... feels right, having you here again."

Harry looked up, meeting Justin's sincere gaze. He nodded, grateful for the gesture, but not entirely sure what to say. "Thanks, Justin."

Justin hesitated, glancing briefly at the others before lowering his voice further. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you. I've heard rumours about... a study group. You know, with Umbridge cracking down on things."

Harry felt his stomach tighten. So it had begun to spread already. He kept his expression neutral, aware of the curious eyes of his dormmates nearby. "What kind of study group?"

Justin gave him a knowing look. "You know, the kind that doesn't follow her rules. Some of us thought... maybe you'd know more about it."

Harry considered his response, glancing around the room to ensure no one else was listening too closely. He could see Terry flicking through a textbook, but he was obviously listening in, with the lack of eye movement.

However, Michael was fully distracted by the enchanted orrery, and Anthony was both deep in his reading, and already a member of the study group.

"I'm not sure what you've heard, Justin," Harry said carefully, keeping his voice low, "but if there were something like that going on, it would be better to keep quiet about it."

Justin nodded, understanding the warning behind Harry's words. "Why do you think I'm here, talking to you about it? Come on Harry, I know I haven't always been reliable, but I would never betray you on this."

Harry's expression softened at Justin's words, but before he could reply, Justin glanced around the room again, lowering his voice further as he leaned in slightly. "Look, there's something else I've noticed. Umbridge... she's not just cracking down on Defence Against the Dark Arts. It's more than that."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

Justin shifted uncomfortably, as if the words themselves tasted bitter. "She's been making it pretty obvious how she feels about people like me. Muggleborns." His voice dropped to barely a whisper now. "Whenever she calls on students, she gets the pure-blood names right every time. Corner, Abbot, even Boot—she's practically perfect with them. But the Muggle-born names? It's like she can't even be bothered to learn them."

Harry felt a surge of anger welling up inside him. "What does she do?"

"She mispronounces them," Justin said quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Sometimes she says my name as 'Finley,' other times it's 'Fetchley.' She's done the same to others, too. So you don't need to worry about me running off to tattle on you. I hate Umbridge, and I want to learn what she's denying us."

Harry gave Justin a small nod, the silent understanding passing between them. He could feel Terry's eyes on him too, the subtle flick of a page from his textbook the only sign he was still listening.

"After dinner on Thursday," Harry said quietly, just loud enough for both Justin and Terry to hear. "Follow me."

Justin's eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and determination. Terry, still pretending to be absorbed in his book, gave the faintest of nods.

Harry didn't say any more. There was no need. The wheels were already in motion.

As Justin retreated to his bed, Harry leaned back against his pillow, feeling the tension ease ever so slightly. The flickering shadows from the fireplace played across the ceiling, and for the first time in a while, Harry felt a sense of purpose settling in.

The next day, Harry had barely made it through breakfast when Fred and George appeared at his side, identical grins stretching across their faces.

"Morning, Harry!" Fred said, dropping into the seat across from him, eyes gleaming with excitement.

George slid in next to his brother. "Hope you're not too busy, because we've got something to show you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Already? What happened to testing over time?"

Fred waved a hand dismissively. "Who has time for that when brilliance strikes?"

George leaned in conspiratorially. "We stayed up all night."

Harry sighed but couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. "Alright, show me then. But not here."

The twins exchanged knowing glances, then stood in unison. "Lead the way, oh secretive one," Fred said with a wink.

Harry led them out of the Great Hall and down through the quieter corridors, eventually reaching a section of the castle that most students never visited.

And then, behind the Peverell templar tapestry, was Harry's secret workshop—a cluttered but efficient space, filled with half-finished projects, stacks of books, the disassembled guts of a ward generator, and shelves crammed with various tools and magical artefacts.

Fred let out a low whistle. "Blimey, Harry. This is… impressive."

George nodded appreciatively. "Didn't expect you to have something like this going on."

Harry shrugged, feeling a bit self-conscious under their gaze. "It's a place to work on a few things.

Fred raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Instead, he and George exchanged another glance before reaching into their bags and pulling out two gleaming lanterns.

"Now, Harry, we said we had something to show you…" George began.

"And here it is," Fred finished, holding up one of the lanterns. "Simultaneous Lanterns."

"They light up all together," George explained, a grin spreading across his face. "So, let's say you're in one place and you need to signal someone in another. One lantern lights, then all the lanterns light up, no matter where you are."

"Instant, reliable communication," Fred added, setting his lantern on the workbench.

George placed the second one beside it. "But we didn't stop there. We've added a few extras to make sure it doesn't just give away your position to anyone, varying some designs, delaying extinguishing for stealth. You know, the usual."

Harry's eyes widened as he inspected the lanterns. "These could be really useful."

Fred gave him a sly look. "Thought you'd like them. When you want to call a Lantern Keepers meeting, you just activate your lantern, and watch your troops assemble."

"Remember those protean-linked rocks we made for breathing underwater last year? Well, we thought—why not do the same with fire?" George finished.

Harry nodded, already thinking of ways the lanterns could come in handy, "So, you'd hang these around the school, right? Is there any way for members to know which lanterns are ours?"

"Not really," Fred admitted with a grimace. "We'll have to teach everyone which lanterns are ours—don't want to draw Umbridge's attention by having students climb up to check every chandelier."

"Yeah," George added with a smirk, "the last thing we need is someone taking down the classroom lights to see if they've got our little touch."

"But," Fred continued, "we did etch a symbol underneath each lantern. Just a little lightning bolt."

Harry's lips twitched at the mention of the lightning bolt. "Subtle."

Fred grinned. "Thought you'd appreciate that."

Before Harry could respond, George nudged Fred, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "Speaking of things you'll appreciate—since you're our business partner and all, we thought you might want a peek at some more of our newest creations."

Harry blinked, caught off guard by the "business partner" reference, and then remembered: the Triwizard winnings. He had given them to Fred and George through Daphne, wanting them to use the money to pursue their joke shop dream.

"I... right," Harry said, a faint smile forming as the memory surfaced. "Let's see what you've been working on."

Fred and George lit up in delight, practically bouncing on their heels. "Right then, Harry, prepare to be amazed," Fred said, pulling a small bundle from his bag.

"We've got quite the selection to show you," George added, his eyes gleaming. He reached into his own pocket and pulled out a coiled piece of string. "For starters—Extendable Ears."

Fred wiggled the string for effect. "Perfect for when you need to listen in on things… or people. Works like a charm through doors, walls—you name it. Got a couple of prototypes ready for action."

Harry took the Extendable Ears from Fred, inspecting them with interest. "Could be handy," he muttered, already thinking of uses for them around the castle.

"Next up," George said, digging into his bag with enthusiasm, "Headless Hats!"

He mimed remove and then putting on a small, invisible hat, and Harry was startled to see George's head go… mostly invisible. Parts of his face shimmered faintly, with his nose and ears still mostly opaque.

"Not quite fully headless yet," Fred admitted, a mischievous glint in his eye, "but we're getting there."

George laughed, sweeping the hat off his head. "Yeah, still a work in progress. The head goes partially transparent, and the hat's completely invisible—when it works. We may have lost more of them than we'd like to admit."

Harry's lips twitched. "You're getting there. Maybe you could enchant it to only trigger on contact, linked to the wearer's magic. That way it won't disappear randomly."

The twins exchanged an impressed glance. "Good thinking," Fred said. "We'll give that a go."

George pulled out a wand and handed it to Harry, who took it cautiously. "Now, don't worry—this is a Trick Wand. It'll turn into all sorts of things when you least expect it."

"Give it a wave!" Fred urged.

Going along with it, Harry nodded, and the wand immediately turned into a rubber chicken in his hand.

Harry blinked, looking down at the squawking rubber chicken. "Yeah, definitely could come in handy," he said with a grin.

Fred snorted at the sight. "Great for a laugh, and for embarrassing the occasional Slytherin."

Harry handed the trick wand back, humming. "Alright, I can see the appeal."

Then George pulled out two small items, his tone shifting to something a bit more serious. "Now, these… these are a bit different."

He held up a pouch of powder and a small bean-like object, both glowing faintly. "Footstep Powder and Blinding Blast Beans."

Fred's grin returned, but it was more subdued. "The Footstep Powder, sprinkle some of the dust on the floor, and it'll make the sound of footsteps running away in random directions."

"And the Blinding Blast Beans," George continued, "well, they do exactly what you'd expect. Toss one of these fairly hard, and anyone in the area will be blinded for a few seconds—gives you time to make a quick getaway."

"But here's the thing," Fred said, scratching the back of his neck. "They're both difficult to make. Too tricky for us to mass-produce, at least for now."

"We were thinking we couldn't really sell them," George added, "but we figured you could use some."

Fred nodded. "Yeah, think of it as part of our ongoing support for your, uh… extracurricular activities."

Harry's eyes flicked between the twins and the pouch of powder. "You're sure?"

George shrugged. "We'll figure out the tricky bits eventually, but for now, they're all yours. Consider it a gift from your business partners."

Harry gave them both a grateful smile. "I appreciate it. These could be really useful." He pocketed the powder and beans, already forming plans in his mind.

With the Footstep Powder and Blinding Blast Beans safely tucked away, Harry gave the twins another grateful nod. "I'll let you know how they work out."

"Make sure you do," Fred replied with a grin, nudging George. "We love a good field test."

George winked. "Especially if it leads to explosions."

Harry smirked, shaking his head as he made his way toward the door. The twins lingered a moment, already whispering about other ideas, and Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of reassurance. As long as he had people like Fred and George on his side, there was hope. But that didn't stop him chivvying them out, ensuring they couldn't cause chaos in his workshop.

Harry made his way to the Room of Requirement, his mind drifting toward the preparations for today's session. As promised, Terry Boot and Justin Finch-Fletchley followed closely behind, quiet but clearly curious about what lay ahead. This was only the second official meeting of the Lantern Keepers, and despite the early progress, the group was still fragile, just starting to find its rhythm.

When they reached the familiar blank stretch of wall, Harry spotted Cedric already there, waiting. Waving off his two dormmates, Harry went up to Cedric, who offered a small, slightly tense smile.

"Hey, Harry. I, uh, hope I'm ready for this."

Harry could sense the nervousness in Cedric's posture, something unusual for the older student. This was Cedric's first time leading a session, and it wasn't just any ordinary study group. The weight of responsibility was heavy, even for someone as talented as Cedric.

"You'll be fine," Harry replied easily. "You taught me and Krum well enough—what's a few dozen more students?"

Cedric let out a small laugh. "I guess."

"So," Harry said, "what do you want the room to look like?"

"I get to choose?" Cedric asked, blinking in surprise.

"Of course. Just pace back and forth here three times, and really focus on what you need. Just... don't tell anyone else. I don't want people messing with it. Only you and I should know."

Cedric blinked in surprise, but then a more genuine smile broke through as the tension eased from his shoulders. "Alright. Let's give it a try."

On Cedric's third pass, the familiar door appeared, its handle slightly more ornate than before. Harry gestured for Cedric to enter first.

The room had transformed again, adapting to Cedric's needs. Soft mats lined the floor for duelling practice, and a series of targets hovered along the far wall. The space was noticeably larger than their last meeting, more open and organised—less like Harry's intense battle training setups and more like an actual classroom.

Cedric glanced around, clearly impressed. "I was thinking we could work on more advanced defensive spells—shielding, and all that. I know you're focused on practical stuff, but I thought it might help if I covered what they'll need for exams too."

"It's your session, Cedric. Do what you think is best," Harry said, patting him on the back. "Just because I don't want to waste my time holding their hand, doesn't mean you can't."

Cedric gave him a faint smile, shaking his head slightly, but didn't argue. "Alright, let's get started then."

As the students began to trickle in, the quiet murmurs of anticipation filled the room.

Harry spotted Terry Boot and Justin Finch-Fletchley lingering near the entrance, and he made his way over to them. "Before we start, you two need to sign the secrecy contract," Harry said, holding out the parchment. "Standard procedure. It means you're committing to keeping everything about the Lantern Keepers secret. No slipping up—even accidentally."

Terry nodded seriously, and Justin, although slightly more hesitant, quickly added his name. "We're in," Justin said, handing the quill back to Harry.

"Good," Harry said, folding up the parchment and pocketing it. "That makes it official."

"So… are you the teacher, or Cedric?" Terry asked, curious.

"We'll probably alternate," Harry replied. "I'll take one session a week, and Cedric will take the other. He'll help you study for exams, make sure everyone's got the spells down, stuff like that.

"Then, I'm focusing on practical survival—what happens when you're actually under fire. How to use the spells you already know to save your life when exams aren't the thing you're worried about."

Terry raised an eyebrow but nodded thoughtfully. "Makes sense. Good to know both angles are covered."

Justin glanced between them, nodding slowly. "Do we have to attend both?"

"You don't have to attend any of them," Harry shot back immediately, then sighed, relaxing slightly. "But you'd probably benefit from attending both sessions. If you think you can pass your exams on your own, then you'd only really need to come to mine. But nobody's going to force you to attend every session."

As the students settled in, Harry couldn't help but mentally review Cedric's lesson plan. It was clear that Cedric had been inspired by Professor Sprout's teaching style—structured, encouraging, and infused with charm. Yet, while Cedric's enthusiasm was undeniable, Harry found himself questioning whether the approach was sufficient for the challenges they might face.

Cedric's lessons seemed to focus on idealised duelling, where there were rules and etiquette to follow—things that mattered in a classroom but wouldn't do much good when they were actually in danger. Harry knew better than anyone that when it came down to it, real fights didn't play by the rules.

Sure, Cedric's students appeared more engaged than ever, and Harry was confident they would pass their exams with flying colours, but that wasn't enough. They need to learn how to adapt, to think on their feet when things go sideways.

Harry's mind drifted to his own experiences—the brutal encounters with Voldemort, the chaos of the Triwizard Tournament, and the way survival had depended on quick thinking and innovation rather than adherence to some established duelling style. Cedric's approach is safe, but safety isn't always the answer.

He respected Cedric for wanting to help his classmates, but Harry wished he would push them harder, challenge them to break away from the comfort of their old habits and embrace the unpredictable nature of real combat.

As Cedric began to explain the first spell of the session, Harry leaned against the wall, arms crossed and brow furrowed. He would have to find a way to weave in his own style during their sessions—a way to balance Cedric's structure with the gritty realism Harry knew was necessary.

When the students grouped together to begin duelling and shielding, Daphne came over and leaned against the wall beside him, and deliberately mirrored his pose by crossing her arms.

The mimicking made it impossible for Harry to keep a straight face, and he couldn't help laughing, which had clearly been her intention.

"Have you frowned enough yet?" she teased, bumping him playfully. "It looked like you were going to start shouting at us to maintain constant vigilance or something."

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled. "I'm just concerned, that's all. I get that Cedric means well, but these kids need to understand that real combat isn't like what we do in here."

Daphne raised an eyebrow, her expression shifting to one of understanding. "I get it. But you know you can run your sessions however you like. Just... maybe try to look a bit more supportive of Cedric's approach? It'll help keep the morale up."

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're right. I don't want to undermine him, but I can't help feeling that we need to prepare them for what's out there. It's just frustrating to watch."

Daphne nodded, her gaze turning thoughtful. "I understand, really. Just remember that he's also trying to help them, in his own way. You can find a balance—you're good at that."

Harry looked at her, appreciating her perspective. "Yeah, I suppose. I'll try to keep that in mind. Maybe I can talk to him later about incorporating some of my ideas into the next session."

"Exactly," she encouraged, giving him a reassuring smile. "You both have something valuable to offer. Just don't let your frustrations spill over. You're part of a team now."

Feeling a bit more grounded, Harry took a deep breath and turned his attention back to the group. The students were eagerly practising the shielding charm Cedric had demonstrated, and he could see their faces light up with excitement. Maybe there was a way to blend their styles after all.

"Now, Cedric said we all need to practise our shields, so work with me?" She offered, looking hopeful.

"Alright. Do you want to shield, or attack?"

"Let's see what you've got. I'll shield first," she said, grinning as she took her position.

Harry raised his wand, focusing on her shield as he began to launch a series of spells. With each impact, he pushed against her barriers, testing her limits. At first, her shield flickered under his assault, but she quickly regained her composure, reinforcing it and managing to hold her ground.

"Not bad," he called out, a smile breaking through as he noted her determination. "But you're going to have to do better than that!"

Daphne laughed, her concentration steady. "Oh, is that a challenge? Bring it on!"

They continued sparring, and with every attempt, Harry felt the tension ease from his shoulders. It was exhilarating to work with someone who pushed him, after having gone too long without feeling challenged.

He focused on maintaining his own shield while trying to break through hers, and soon enough, he found a rhythm—attacking and defending in tandem.

After a particularly intense exchange, Harry glanced around the room and noticed that the other students had stopped practising and were watching him and Daphne with wide eyes, clearly captivated by their duelling.

"Hey, Harry!" Terry Boot called out from the sidelines. "Can I work with you next?"

Harry turned back to Daphne, who was wiping sweat from her brow and breathing heavily. Her cheeks were flushed from the exertion, and she offered a tired nod, waving for Harry to leave her to catch her breath.

"Alright, sure, Terry," Harry replied, a grin spreading across his face as he waved him over. "Let's see what you can do."

"Err, are you alright if I just focus on breaking your shield? Because I already know I won't be able to block your attack," Terry said, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"Alright, go ahead. I'll keep my shield steady, so just try your best."

Terry took a deep breath, clearly trying to summon confidence. He aimed carefully, but his first attempt flew wide, barely grazing the edge of Harry's shield before splashing harmlessly against the wall.

"Move your arm, not your wrist," Harry advised, wincing. "Not only will it strain you less, but you'll be able to aim better."

Terry nodded, determination replacing some of his earlier hesitation. He squared his shoulders, adjusting his stance. As Terry prepared for another shot, Harry glanced around at the other students who were listening intently.

He felt like they should be focusing on their own partners, but given Cedric was also watching closely, Harry wasn't about to take over the lesson for him.

"Okay, try again," Harry said, trying to keep his voice encouraging, even as he started to regret accepting Terry's request.

With renewed focus, Terry launched another spell. This time, it struck Harry's shield directly, causing it to shimmer and flicker momentarily. It was admittedly more than he would have expected, and he felt a twinge of approval, though he kept his expression guarded.

"Not bad, Terry," he said, giving a small nod. "You're getting there. Just remember to keep your arm steady."

Terry smiled, albeit a bit cautiously, and got ready to try again. Harry watched, his gaze flicking around the room. Most of the students were still watching, their own practice seemingly forgotten.

Great, just what we need—an audience, Harry thought, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. He wasn't trying to turn this into a demonstration, and the last thing he wanted was for them to assume he'd help them all.

"Come on, everyone," Harry called out, his tone sharper than intended. "Back to your own partners. Watching won't do you much good if you're not putting in the practice yourselves."

A few of the students blinked, startled, before they exchanged glances and reluctantly turned back to their partners. Cedric shot Harry a quick look—one that was hard to read—but gave a nod of agreement as he moved to help a pair of younger students.

"Alright, Terry, one more shot," Harry said, his tone calmer now. He adjusted his stance, raising his wand as he prepared himself. "And try not to hesitate so much."