- DUELLING CLUB -
4:45am - September 7th, 1976 - School Grounds - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry - Earth - Universe Designation: 1.638.2
The wind swept through the grounds of Hogwarts, carrying with it a crisp pre-dawn chill. Most of those within the castle still lay in slumber, shrouded in silence save for the occasional hoot of an owl or the rustle of leaves. On the northern edge of the grounds, just beyond the Black Lake, Harry Potter sat cross-legged on the damp grass. His eyes were closed and his breathing was deep and even. The world felt paused, as though the very earth had quieted itself to listen.
Harry's focus was inward, deeper than the lake itself. His magic hummed beneath his skin. Not chaotic. Not wild, but flowing smoothly. Harmonizing with his breath. Each inhalation drew in the energy around him, the pulse of Hogwarts itself resonating in his very core. Each exhalation released tension, doubt, and noise. He no longer wrestled with the Codex's whispers. They were nothing but background static, fading further into irrelevance with each passing day.
Clarity.
Balance.
Precision.
Feel your magic, don't force it. The Ancient One's voice echoed faintly in his mind. Guide it. Trust it.
Harry reached inward and let his power flow. It unfurled in gentle ripples, spreading through the ground, the grass, and the still water. A pulse of golden light radiated from him, spreading outward in waves. Harry felt it. The magic of Hogwarts. Ancient. Alive. It met his energy with a low, steady resonance, as though welcoming his touch. For the first time in months, Harry felt peace. True peace. The Codex stirred faintly inside his coat, like a cornered beast, but its whispers were weak now. Pathetic, even. "You have no power here," Harry murmured, his voice calm. He meant it.
Opening his eyes slowly, Harry rose to his feet in one fluid motion. The light dissipated with him, fading like embers into the air. He turned to face the castle, the first streaks of dawn beginning to claw their way over the mountains. The world was waking up and he had work to do.
5:15am - September 7th, 1976 - The Room of Requirement - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry - Earth - Universe Designation: 1.638.2
The Room of Requirement was no longer a place of quiet study or forgotten items. Tonight, it had re-shaped itself to meet Harry's needs. An immense, enchanted gymnasium capable of withstanding strength beyond mortal comprehension. The space hummed with protective magic older than any spell Hogwarts' walls had ever known. The ceiling stretched impossibly high. The floor was reinforced with ancient wards that shimmered faintly like veins of molten silver. Wards he had found in the depths of the Codex. At its center, an enormous weight sat on a reinforced platform. A simple bar of steel held discs stacked on each side. It looked like any other mundane weight, until one noticed the sigils carved into their edges. The runes shimmered faintly, ensuring their true mass equalled the weight of a small moon.
Harry stood before the weight, clad in nothing but a black sleeveless training shirt and loose, enchanted trousers. His muscles, honed from a lifetime of survival and combat, flexed in anticipation as he approached the bar. After lying down on the bench, he gripped the steel bar. His knuckles turned white as he prepared himself for the strain. To any observer, the task would have seemed suicidal. A bar with such weight should have dragged him to the floor, cracked the earth beneath him, or crushed him under its mass. But Harry was no mortal man.
His strength, combined with his physiology, ensured that such feats were not just possible. They were necessary. He inhaled deeply. Clarity, not brute force. With a slow, measured motion, Harry lifted the weight. The ground beneath him trembled, cracks splintering outward like spiderwebs despite the enchantments. Every muscle in his body tightened, vibrating with energy. Harry's face remained composed. There was no room for struggle here. Only focus. He pressed the weight upward. Once. Twice. Fifty times. One hundred. One thousand.
The enchanted platform groaned faintly under the force as Harry lowered the bar one last time, placing it back onto its runed supports. The room exhaled with him, the tension dissipating. Getting off of the bench, Harry took a step back. Sweat gleamed on his brow and his breathing steadied despite the effort. Grabbing a towel, Harry wiped the sweat from his neck and turned toward the far wall. There, a golden clock flickered in mid-air. Its hands indicated it was just shy of 5:30 AM.
"Time for a run," he murmured, his faint smirk returning. In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
The world around him blurred as Harry moved at speeds no human eye could track. He was little more than a phantom. A ripple in the wind as he circled the castle. Towers, courtyards, and gardens passed in an instant, blending together in streaks of gray and green. To Harry, time seemed to slow. But that was Rose's burden to bare.
One lap. A hundred. A thousand.
When he finally slowed, his boots kissed the wet grass, the morning air cold and biting against his skin. He didn't feel tired. He felt alive.
7:00am - September 7th, 1976 - Great Hall - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry - Earth - Universe Designation: 1.638.2
The morning bustle of Hogwarts surrounded Harry as he entered the Great Hall. Students paused in their conversations to steal glances at him. Some subtle, others less so. He was used to it by now, but today the attention felt...different.
Marlene McKinnon, seated among a group of Gryffindors, gave Harry a lingering look. Her blonde hair caught the light as she offered him a slow smile. Beside her, Emmeline Vance glanced up as well, her blue eyes flickering with something soft before darting back to her plate. Across the hall, Bellatrix Black watched him openly, her gaze sharp and intent. Possessive, even. Harry could feel her eyes follow him as he strode toward the staff table. +He sighed inwardly, keeping his expression carefully neutral. Attraction. Fascination. Admiration. He'd seen it all before, and he didn't have the energy to deal with it. Not when there were far more pressing matters at hand.
"Morning, Professor Potter," Marlene called sweetly as he passed, earning a stifled giggle from Emmeline.
Harry gave them a polite nod. "Good morning, Miss McKinnon. Miss Vance,"
Bellatrix tilted her head slightly, her smirk deepening as though she'd caught something in his voice. Harry ignored it and continued on. They weren't the only ones watching. All around the hall, students whispered to each other, their eyes tracking his movements. A handful of younger girls looked away hurriedly when he glanced their way, but the red tinge in their cheeks betrayed their embarrassment.
Harry slid into his seat at the staff table, pouring himself a cup of tea and muttering under his breath. "Teenagers," It was going to be a long year.
The activity in the castle grew louder as students moved through the Entrance Hall after breakfast, moving toward their morning classes. Harry stood near the large oak doors, his silhouette backlit by the weak autumn sunlight filtering through the glass windows. The crate of brooms - a sleek set of Comet 220s - had just been delivered, and the castle House Elves had set it carefully near the stairs. The polished brooms gleamed under the morning light. Each broom was a marvel of craftsmanship and magical engineering.
Harry pulled a clipboard from the top of the crate and signed the delivery form with a quick stroke of his quill. The enchanted parchment glowed briefly before vanishing in a puff of smoke. He placed the clipboard aside and turned back toward the crate, his hands brushing over the enchanted wood with absent curiosity. It was then that he felt them.
Eyes.
Lingering stares pressed against his back like whispers. Faint but unmistakable. He didn't need to turn around to know who was watching. Years of experience, sharpened instincts, and an awareness born of survival had made him acutely sensitive to attention.
Marlene McKinnon and Emmeline Vance stood just a few paces away, the two half-pretending to admire the brooms while casting sidelong glances at Harry. Marlene's blonde hair fell loosely around her shoulders, her expression a careful balance between curiosity and mischief. She leaned toward Emmeline, who nodded as though agreeing with something entirely unrelated to the brooms. Emmeline's eyes, however, lingered a beat too long on Harry before she quickly turned back to Marlene, hiding a smile.
From further back, near the shadows cast by the grand staircase, Bellatrix Black watched. Unlike the other two girls, she didn't bother with pretense. Her eyes bore into Harry as though she could peel him apart layer by layer. There was no shyness in her stare. No giggles or feigned distraction. It was possessive. Calculating. The way a predator examined prey it didn't quite understand. Her lips curved into the faintest smirk when Harry turned, as if challenging him to acknowledge her.
Harry fought the urge to sigh. He had faced dark wizards, monsters, and warlords from across worlds. Teenage infatuation was one battle he had no desire to enter. He exhaled softly, schooling his expression into polite neutrality. It wasn't that he didn't understand their attention. He did. The training, the aura of command he carried, his disarming calm. It all painted him as someone larger than life. But Harry wasn't here to entertain anyone's fantasies. He had no interest in encouraging them.
"Professor Potter?"
Marlene's voice broke the silence, sweet and lilting but carefully measured. Harry turned to see her standing closer now, a friendly smile playing at her lips. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. A deliberate gesture. She nodded toward the brooms. "Are these brooms for Gryffindors?" she asked, her tone light and curious. Emmeline stood just behind her, a faint smirk curling at the corner of her mouth as though amused by Marlene's forwardness.
Harry blinked at them both, his expression composed. "These are for everyone, Miss McKinnon," he replied evenly. "Share them equally among the Houses. I'm sure Madam Hooch will explain," His voice carried no edge, but it was firm. A polite dismissal that left no room for debate.
Marlene's smile faltered briefly, though she quickly recovered, nodding. "Of course. That makes sense,"
Emmeline nudged her lightly with her elbow, muttering something under her breath that made Marlene stifle a laugh. They turned away and proceeded away from the Entrance Hall. As they walked toward the Great Hall, Harry caught Emmeline sneaking another glance over her shoulder, her expression thoughtful.
He let out another sigh once they were out of earshot, shaking his head faintly. But before he could leave, his attention was drawn once again to Bellatrix. She hadn't moved. Her gaze remained locked on him, unreadable but intense, as though she was trying to decipher him. There was a sharpness in her eyes that made Harry wary. When their eyes met, her smirk widened just slightly, as though pleased with herself. She tilted her head faintly, her curls falling around her face. She said nothing. Harry met her gaze without flinching, though he didn't linger. Instead, he turned sharply and strode away, disappearing down the corridor with measured steps.
5:15pm - September 7th, 1976 - Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry - Earth - Universe Designation: 1.638.2
The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom had been transformed. Gone was the usual imposing air. Instead, the desks had been pushed back to the edges of the room, replaced with an inviting circle of conjured armchairs and low tables piled high with snacks. Chocolate frogs, pumpkin pasties, butterbeer bottles, and trays of treacle tarts. Golden orbs of light floated lazily above them, casting the space in a warm, intimate glow. The steady crackle of a fire in the hearth softened the hard lines of stone and added a quiet comfort.
Harry stood near the door, his arms loosely crossed. A quarter after five, he watched as the Marauders and Rose filtered in. Their voices filled the room almost immediately, echoing off the walls with an ease that made Harry realize just how empty the space often felt without them. "Am I hallucinating?" Sirius was the first to break the ice, spreading his arms wide. "Snacks? A fire? Comfortable chairs? Harry Potter, have you been replaced by a particularly soft-hearted house-elf?"
James laughed, clapping Sirius on the shoulder as he passed. "Careful, Padfoot. You might jinx it, and we'll be back to getting disarmed across the room again,"
"Not my fault you're slow on the counter," Harry replied calmly, his lips quirking faintly.
James gave him a mock glare before settling into a chair directly across from Harry. He stretched out with all the relaxed arrogance of someone who had claimed the spot at the center of everything. "This is brilliant, though. You've really outdone yourself, little brother,"
"Technically, I'm the middle child," Harry corrected, though he knew arguing would only earn him a smug smirk from his sister. And it did.
"You're just jealous you didn't inherit James's exceptional height," Rose teased.
"I'll let him keep that," Harry muttered with mock disdain. "Makes him easier to spot when he's causing trouble,"
James gasped in mock offense, clutching at his chest. "Betrayed by my own brother!"
"Add it to the list," Rose quipped, earning a laugh from the others as they continued filing in.
Remus Lupin arrived next, carrying a book under his arm as usual. He gave Harry an approving nod. "If this is your idea of a practical lesson, I think you've finally earned some points with the rest of us,"
"Just don't get too comfortable," Harry shot back, though his tone was light.
Peter Pettigrew slipped in quietly after Remus, looking slightly overwhelmed by the change in atmosphere. "Are we studying or...?"
"Nope," Rose said breezily, tilting her chair back slightly as she sipped her drink. "We're bonding. Be grateful,"
Sirius, already sprawled dramatically across his chair like he owned the place, grabbed a chocolate frog off the table and waved it triumphantly. "Rose Potter, you're my hero,"
"Noted," she replied dryly, though the corner of her mouth twitched upward.
It didn't take long for the energy in the room to melt into something easy and natural. The kind of camaraderie Harry realized he'd never truly known but had seen in glimpses. Moments like these were new and precious. James had taken it upon himself to dominate the conversation, aided by Sirius's loud embellishments and Remus's quiet interjections of fact-checking.
"...and then Slughorn's chair exploded," James said, gesturing wildly with a half-empty butterbeer in hand. "The man nearly knocked his mustache off trying to figure out what happened. You should've seen his face!"
"It wasn't even our fault," Sirius chimed in, clearly lying. "Well, not entirely our fault. The fireworks spell worked perfectly. It just wasn't supposed to land under him,"
Remus, shaking his head but smiling faintly, added, "You mean you didn't check where you set the fuse,"
"Details, Moony, details," Sirius said dismissively, grinning as he tossed a chocolate frog into his mouth.
Rose snorted. "How are you two not permanently in detention?"
"Natural charm," James replied smugly, winking at her.
"Or maybe McGonagall's just too tired to deal with you in detention," Remus added dryly, earning a round of laughter. Harry watched quietly, allowing himself to simply listen. He wasn't always part of these kinds of conversations, but he found he didn't mind. Being here, watching his brother, sister, and the Marauders share stories and laughter felt right.
At one point, the conversation shifted, and Harry noticed Rose watching him with a thoughtful look. "What?" He raised an eyebrow as the others bickered about Quidditch positions.
"You're too quiet," she said, nudging him with her elbow.
"I don't need to be loud when Sirius is already doing it for me,"
She laughed softly at that, her grin genuine. "You know, you're not as bad at this whole 'relaxing' thing as I thought you'd be,"
"I'm learning," Harry admitted, his voice low so only she could hear. He gave her a small smile. "It's good for you to have moments like this too,"
Her expression softened. A flicker of understanding passing between them. "We both need them,"
Harry didn't respond, but he nodded. She was right.
Sirius, naturally the instigator, leaned forward in his chair with that familiar glint of mischief in his gray eyes. "Alright, Potter," he said, popping the last bite of a pumpkin pasty into his mouth. "You've been far too quiet tonight. You can't just sit there pretending to enjoy our stories without contributing something,"
"I am enjoying them," Harry replied smoothly, though the faint smirk tugging at his lips said otherwise.
"You're deflecting," James said, mirroring Sirius's posture as he leaned forward. His eyes sparkled with the same curiosity. "Come on, Harry. You've got to have something. You've traveled, right? Seen things?" Of course, he knew that Harry had traveled across the multiverse, though Harry was sure he was as curious as he seemed.
"Yeah!" Peter piped up eagerly, emboldened now that the pressure wasn't on him. "A proper story! We're all waiting,"
Harry glanced at Rose, who was watching him with equal curiosity but with a softer gaze. One that understood there were things Harry might not want to share. But then she smirked, raising her butterbeer in mock toast. "You're not getting out of this one, Harry,"
Harry sighed, though there was no real annoyance in it. He shifted in his seat, his fingers lightly brushing against the arms of his chair as he considered what to say. The truth was, most of his stories were steeped in pain or darkness. Battlefields. Loss. Sacrifices he had no intention of speaking of out loud. But he could give them something. Something he'd buried deep enough that it no longer stung as sharply.
"You want a story?" Harry said, finally relenting. "Fine. I'll tell you about the time I nearly got eaten by a dragon,"
There was a beat of silence. Then Sirius practically choked on his drink. "A what?"
James straightened so fast he nearly toppled his butterbeer. "You're joking,"
"I'm not," Harry smirked faintly. "You wanted a story. You didn't say it had to be believable,"
Remus tilted his head, his brow furrowed with intrigue. "Start from the beginning, then. If there's a dragon involved, we need details,"
"Right," Harry leaned back in his chair, his tone taking on a casual air that went against the weight of the story. "It started with a tournament. A magical one. One of those competitions where you're expected to fight, survive, and somehow not lose your head in the process,"
"A tournament?" James said, his curiosity piqued. "Like a dueling competition?"
"Not exactly," Harry replied. "It was a lot worse. There were three tasks, each more ridiculous than the last. But the first one, the one with the dragon, was special," The group fell silent, hanging onto his every word as he spoke. "Imagine this," he said, his emerald gaze distant, as if he were seeing the memory play out before him. "You're standing in a tent, barely able to breathe because you've just found out you're facing a fully grown dragon...alone,"
Sirius let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "You were serious. An actual dragon? Like a big, fire-breathing one?"
"Yes, Black," Harry replied dryly. "Not the kind you make out of parchment,"
James's eyes were wide with excitement. "What kind of dragon was it? Was it a Hungarian Horntail?"
Harry paused, a brow raised. "Yes, actually. A Horntail. Nasty thing. Massive spikes, black scales, temper like Sirius before his first coffee of the morning,"
"Oi!" Sirius protested.
"It was part of the challenge," Harry continued. "The goal was to retrieve a golden egg the dragon was guarding. Simple on paper, but not so simple when the dragon decides it doesn't like you snooping around,"
"Let me get this straight," Remus interrupted, his calm voice tinged with disbelief. "You were expected to steal an egg from under a dragon? And no one thought that was...excessive?"
"Oh, they thought it was perfectly reasonable," Harry said with a small, sardonic smile. "Everyone loves a bit of spectacle when they're not the ones being roasted alive,"
Rose snorted, shaking her head. "You're underselling it. Tell them what you did,"
Harry shot her a look but obliged. "Fine. So, there I was. Thrown into an arena with nothing but a wand. I had to think fast, so I did what anyone would do when facing a dragon,"
"Ran?" Peter suggested, wide-eyed.
"No," Harry replied, his tone dry. "I flew,"
The room was silent for a beat.
"You what?" James asked, his voice caught somewhere between disbelief and awe.
"I summoned my broom," Harry said, a small grin tugging at his lips. "And I flew. Straight up, straight into the dragon's airspace,"
"You're insane," Sirius declared, though his grin was wide with admiration. "You flew at it? Were you trying to taunt it?"
"Not intentionally," Harry replied. "But that's exactly what happened. I flew circles around its head to distract it. The Horntail wasn't happy about it. Fire everywhere, claws snapping, the whole thing. I barely managed to dodge half the time,"
James's face lit up with the kind of excitement only a Seeker could understand. "That sounds brilliant. Flying against a dragon? That's the kind of thing you hear about in legends,"
"It didn't feel brilliant at the time," Harry admitted. "One wrong move, and I'd have been ash. The dragon tore apart half the arena trying to catch me,"
Rose grinned. "But he still won,"
"Eventually," Harry allowed, shrugging. "I dove low. Straight for the egg, just as the dragon reared back to breathe fire. Grabbed it and flew out of range before it could fry me,"
Sirius threw his hands in the air. "You're telling me you outflew a dragon and lived to tell the tale?"
"Yes," Harry replied, leaning back in his chair. "And I've got the burns to prove it,"
James was staring at Harry like he'd grown a second head. "Merlin's beard, Harry. And you said you didn't have any stories to tell,"
"Most of mine aren't so lighthearted," Harry said, his tone softening.
"Lighthearted?" Remus repeated, his brows raising. "You fought a dragon and call that lighthearted?"
Rose shook her head with a laugh. "You should've seen him when he told me about it. I thought he was joking,"
"I thought you were joking," James said, looking between Harry and Rose with equal parts amazement and jealousy. "And here I thought dodging Bludgers was hard,"
"It is for you," Sirius teased.
"You're not wrong," James shot back, though his grin didn't falter. He looked at Harry again, his expression turning more serious. "But that's...incredible, Harry. Not just the flying, but the guts it must've taken to face something like that,"
Harry shrugged, brushing off the praise. "When you don't have a choice, you do what you have to do,"
Sirius grinned, lifting his butterbeer in salute. "To Harry Potter, dragon tamer,"
The others laughed and raised their bottles in response, clinking them together in mock celebration. The group fell back into easy conversation, the energy lighter now as the dragon story lingered in the air. James and Sirius immediately started debating whether they could pull off a similar stunt in a Quidditch match, much to Remus's exasperation.
"Do not try flying directly at a Bludger and expect it to go well," Remus muttered, rubbing his temples.
"I could do it," James declared proudly.
"I'm pretty sure your face would disagree," Rose shot back, earning another round of laughter.
Harry once again allowed himself to just sit back and listen. The sound of James and Sirius's banter, Remus's resigned sighs, Peter's nervous laughter, and Rose's quick wit blended together into something that felt...right. For a moment, there was no weight of expectation, no shadows from the past or warnings of the future. There was only this. Laughter, warmth, and family. He didn't know how long moments like these would last, but he would treasure them while he could.
Sirius spoke. "I'm telling you, Harry, you need to get in on this. Join the team. Knock James down a peg or two,"
Harry smirked. "Why would I do that when he already spends most of his time flat on the ground?"
"Oi!" James protested, though the others laughed.
"See?" Sirius said, pointing at Harry. "You've got a wicked sense of humor when you let yourself use it,"
"You just encourage it," Remus said, not looking up from his book.
Peter piped up nervously, "So...what's the next prank you two are planning?"
Sirius looked offended. "We don't plan pranks. They're works of art. Inspired brilliance. Planning cheapens the magic,"
"Don't let McGonagall hear you say that," Harry muttered.
"She loves us," James said with mock confidence. "Deep down, we're her favorites,"
By the time the evening began to wind down, the fire had burned lower, and the snacks had mostly disappeared. James stretched, letting out a contented sigh. "We should do this more often,"
"I'm surprised Harry let us get away with it once," Remus said, though he smiled faintly.
Rose stood, brushing crumbs off her lap before giving Harry a meaningful look. "See? Told you this would work,"
As the Marauders gathered their things and began to file out, James clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Not bad, little brother. You might be growing on me,"
"Glad I can finally make an impression" Harry replied dryly, though his tone was warm.
Sirius was the last to leave, pausing at the door. "You're not so bad, Potter," he said with a grin.
"Don't push it, Black," Harry said, shaking his head with a smile. When the door finally closed, the classroom fell quiet again, but it wasn't empty. The echoes of laughter and warmth lingered in the air. Harry stood for a moment longer to take it in before extinguishing the lights with a flick of his wrist. It had been a good evening. One he wouldn't forget.
7:15pm - September 7th, 1976 - The Great Hall - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry - Earth - Universe Designation: 1.638.2
The Great Hall was unrecognizable. The long dining tables that usually played host to feasts and boisterous conversation had vanished, replaced by rows of sleek dueling platforms shimmering under golden orbs of light. The ceiling reflected the night sky. A tapestry of stars. The wards separating the platforms crackled faintly with contained power, their glow just visible at the edges like halos of magic.
At the center of the room, Harry Potter stood in his teaching robes, the dark fabric falling perfectly over his form. Unlike the students around him - chatting in hushed but excited voices - Harry exuded a calm authority that stilled the air around him. His eyes surveyed the crowd as they filtered in. Even the most arrogant students moved carefully under his gaze.
The room filled quickly with sixth and seventh years. Students who had earned their place through talent or undeniable potential. Harry's presence seemed to demand a certain respect, though no words had been exchanged yet. Among the gathered were Lily Evans, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, a reluctant Peter Pettigrew, Bellatrix Black, Marlene McKinnon, Emmeline Vance, Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, Frank Longbottom, Alice Fortescue, Mary MacDonald and others. It was an assembly of some of Hogwarts' brightest, most competitive students. Several other skilled students from the years below also filtered in.
As the last murmurs died away, Harry stepped forward. The room seemed to quiet all at once, every pair of eyes drawn to him.
"Welcome to the first meeting of the Duelling Club," Harry began, his voice carrying easily across the hall. It wasn't loud, but it didn't need to be. "This is not a competition. This is not about pride. It is about learning to defend yourself and improve your skills. If you want to excel here, you will push yourselves. And each other,"
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the students. They were attentive now. Some stood straighter, others fidgeting under the weight of his words. Lucius Malfoy's sharp features betrayed quiet excitement after his victory in their previous Defense lesson. Bellatrix Black's eyes gleamed with a mix of hunger and curiosity, and Sirius and James exchanged looks of subdued excitement.
"I will not sugarcoat this," Harry continued, his tone sharpening like tempered steel. "You are not ready. None of you are. But you can be. What you learn here may one day save your lives, or the lives of those you care about. The lessons will be grueling. The expectations high. If you're not willing to put in the work, leave now," A faint ripple of tension swept through the students. Harry let the challenge hang for a beat, watching them carefully. No one moved. "Good,"
He inclined his head, a brief gesture of approval. "To help run this club efficiently, I've selected four Assistant Duelling Instructors. They are among the best in this room and have demonstrated both talent and control," The students glanced around, some murmuring quietly as Harry turned and began calling out names.
"Lily Evans," Lily blinked in mild surprise, though the weight of the responsibility settled quickly over her. She stepped forward, her chin held high. Once she was standing on one of the platforms, she offered Harry a small, resolute nod.
"Emmeline Vance," Emmeline beamed, her confidence radiant as she joined Lily. She carried herself with quiet poise, though there was pride in the way her shoulders straightened from the attention.
"Frank Longbottom," Frank's brow lifted in surprise, and he glanced at Alice Fortescue before stepping forward with a small, bashful smile. He rubbed the back of his neck before settling next to Emmeline, trying and failing to hide his excitement.
"And Alice Fortescue," Alice stepped forward with ease, confidence clear in the purposeful stride of her steps. She exchanged a brief grin with Frank before meeting Harry's gaze with a nod.
The students murmured as the four new instructors took their places beside Harry. Lily's reputation for precision and control made her a natural choice, but Emmeline, Frank, and Alice left the others intrigued. Frank's steady hand in dueling was well known, and Alice had an instinctive knack for strategy that many admired. Harry let the whispers die down before continuing. "These four will assist me in overseeing duels, teaching techniques, and maintaining order. You will respect their authority as you respect mine. Do I make myself clear?"
A chorus of nods and affirmations followed, though not all were equally enthusiastic. Harry's sharp gaze lingered on Bellatrix Black, who stood near the back. Her posture was defiant despite the slight narrowing of her eyes. Her disappointment was evident, though she hid it beneath a smirk. Her gaze remained fixed on Harry like a predator waiting for an opening.
"Good," Harry said finally, stepping back. "Pair off into groups. Each instructor will take a section. Duelling will be conducted non-verbally wherever possible. Learn from each other. Adapt. Assistant Instructors, you're in charge,"
The Great Hall hummed with a vibrant energy, alive with the rustle of movement, the soft crackle of shields forming, and the faint hum of focused spellwork. The golden orbs above illuminated dueling platforms like stages for miniature battles. Students broke off into their pairs, glancing nervously at each other or their instructors.
Harry remained at the center of it all, observing quietly. His gaze moved from platform to platform as the Assistant Duelling Instructors settled into their roles. The tension that usually accompanied his presence in class had faded tonight. Yhis wasn't a lesson under sharp scrutiny. This was practice - training - and it showed in the quieter confidence that began to build among the students.
"Non-verbal spells only," Lily instructed calmly, her clear voice rising just enough to cut through the surrounding noise. "Start with basic disarming charms and shields. Controlled movements. No wasted effort," James and Sirius were her immediate focus, and to Lily's surprise, they listened without argument. She expected James to quip or challenge her authority, but he simply nodded and faced Sirius, wand poised.
Expelliarmus. James mouthed, flicking his wand in a smooth arc. The spell was clean, silent, and precise. Sirius raised a Protego with equal control, the shield shimmering faintly as it absorbed the force.
"Again. Faster," Lily said, her eyes narrowing. The pair exchanged a glance but complied, their wands moving in a flurry of disarming and shielding. After deflecting Sirius's silent Stupefy, James turned back to Lily, a small smirk tugging at his lips. Not arrogant this time, but proud.
"Need help with the younger ones?" James offered, jerking his chin toward a group of fourth years fumbling their shields.
Lily blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "That...would actually be helpful," she admitted.
"Don't worry, Evans," James said, flashing her a softer grin as he strode toward the younger students. "I'll keep it simple for them. I'll even keep the charm to a solid Expelliarmus," As James worked with the fourth years, slowing down his movements and carefully explaining the wand motions, Lily couldn't help but watch. His usual cocky demeanor had given way to something more earnest. She realized, begrudgingly, that when James Potter took something seriously, he was good at it.
"See? He's not all trouble," Sirius whispered conspiratorially to Lily as he passed her by, earning himself a glare.
Emmeline moved through her section with an air of calm control. Where Lily leaned on direct commands, Emmeline preferred encouragement. "Timing is everything," she told a nervous Ravenclaw who trembled at the idea of dueling Marlene McKinnon. "It's not about speed alone. It's about intent,"
She turned to Marlene, who stood opposite the boy, her wand flicking effortlessly to demonstrate. "Stupefy,"
The boy hesitated, his Protego faltering as Marlene's spell slipped past. Emmeline moved beside him, her presence steady. "Again. Raise your wand higher and believe the shield will hold. Magic follows intent and confidence. Remember,"
When the boy finally blocked the next Stupefy, Emmeline smiled warmly. "Much better. Now let's practice the rhythm,"
Nearby, Marlene grinned at Emmeline. "You're good at this," she murmured as they moved to pair off with another set of students.
"You're good at showing off," Emmeline teased back, though her tone was affectionate. Together, they made a strong pair, one that others couldn't help but watch. Their spells formed a seamless flow of offense and defense, a dance of controlled magic that left their group quietly inspired.
Frank Longbottom's voice rang out across his section like a small military commander. "Confidence!" he barked, watching as an older Slytherin squared off against a jittery third-year Gryffindor. "Non-verbal casting requires focus and trust in yourself. If you hesitate, you'll lose before the duel begins,"
The Slytherin cast a silent Petrificus Totalus, the movement sharp and decisive. The Gryffindor tried to dodge but was a beat too slow, stumbling as the spell clipped his shoulder. Frank sighed, shaking his head as he stepped forward. "Don't avoid it. Counter it," he said firmly, gesturing to the Gryffindor's wand. "Raise a Protego the moment you see his wand move,"
The Slytherin lifted his chin smugly, but Frank turned on him just as quickly. "And you. Don't get complacent. You're predictable. Mix it up. Stupefy this time,"
The older Slytherin scowled faintly but complied. The next duel was faster, tighter, and Frank clapped his hands sharply when the Gryffindor successfully countered. "Better!" he shouted. "Now again. Faster!" Frank's no-nonsense approach was demanding but effective, leaving his group sharper and more focused with every round.
Alice's quiet but commanding tone kept her section grounded. "No spells without a plan," she said, her sharp eyes flicking between Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. "Power means nothing if you don't use it well,"
Lucius cast a swift Expulso, his movements polished but slightly arrogant. Severus dodged cleanly to the side, countering with a silent Stupefy. Alice clapped her hands, stopping them mid-motion. "Malfoy, your right side is wide open. Snape, good counter, but you overextended. If he'd been faster, you'd be down,"
Lucius glared but adjusted his stance, while Severus gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. The two boys reset, this time moving more deliberately, anticipating each other's counters.
"Better," Alice murmured, watching their progress. "Control the duel. Don't let it control you,"
From his place at the center of the room, Harry's eyes flicked to where Bellatrix Black faced off against Marlene McKinnon. Bellatrix's movements were fast, sharp, and relentless. They also lacked finesse. Her spells - Stupefy, Expulso, Reducto - pushed Marlene back again and again, the intensity of her magic almost overwhelming. "Control, Miss Black," Harry said softly as he approached, his calm voice cutting through the chaos.
Bellatrix froze mid-duel, her wand still raised as she turned toward him, eyes narrowing. "I have control," she said defensively.
Harry tilted his head slightly, his tone quiet but firm. "Overpowering someone isn't control. It's force. Precision, Miss Black. Precision is what separates a good duelist from a great one," Her jaw tightened, but Harry didn't move, his gaze steady. After a beat, he added more gently, "You're good, Bellatrix. One of the best here. But you're fighting like you have something to prove,"
The words hit their mark. Bellatrix stared at him, her expression flickering from anger, irritation, to something else. Then, without another word, she turned back to Marlene and resumed the duel. This time, her spells were just as fast but noticeably more measured, each strike controlled and deliberate. Harry lingered for a moment longer, watching her closely before nodding to himself and moving on.
The hall buzzed with energy as the final duels wrapped up. Students lowered their wands, their faces flushed and their robes slightly singed. Lily worked with James and Sirius to help a struggling pair of fourth years. Emmeline and Marlene encouraged a Ravenclaw duo through synchronized casting drills. Frank barked out one final round of counters to his group, while Alice made quiet, strategic corrections to Lucius and Severus's movements. Harry watched it all, arms folded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. They weren't ready yet. But they were improving. They were learning.
As the golden orbs dimmed slightly, signaling the end of the meeting, Harry stepped forward once more. The room fell into an immediate hush, the students turning toward him with respect. "Good work tonight," Harry said. "What you learn here matters. Remember that,"
The students nodded, their eyes bright with determination. Lily and Emmeline exchanged a look, both smiling faintly. James nudged Sirius with his elbow, grinning despite the sweat on his brow. Bellatrix stood near the back, her dark eyes fixed on Harry, unreadable but no longer defiant. For a moment, Harry allowed himself to feel a sliver of hope. They weren't ready yet. But they would be.
Updated: 3/9/2025