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The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws filed into the Clock Tower Courtyard with an electricity in the air that made Harry's skin prickle. The newly reinstated Duelling Club had been the only topic of conversation for days, and now the moment had arrived.
Harry remembered Fleur Delacour's casual mention that she'd been duelling champion at Beauxbatons, the way the Weasley twins had talked about her skill with something close to reverence. He wanted to prove himself. Not to impress anyone in particular, but to know he could stand on his own.
Around him, reactions varied wildly. Hermione clutched a leather-bound tome titled *Principles of Practical Duelling* like a life preserver, her eyes darting across the pages even as she walked. Ron bounced on the balls of his feet. And Neville... poor Neville looked like he was walking to his own execution.
"You alright?" Harry asked quietly, falling into step beside him.
Neville's laugh came out strangled. "Ron said I'd never get better if I hid in the dormitory all day. Doesn't mean I wanted to prove him right in front of everyone."
Before Harry could respond, Luna's dreamy voice drifted over. "I spent last night chasing Marbles. I should have plenty for today."
Several Ravenclaws snickered. Harry caught Hermione's confused frown.
"What are Marbles?" Hermione asked.
"Creatures that steal wands for the magic inside them," Luna explained with perfect sincerity. "But if you catch enough before a duel, they bring good fortune instead."
A Gryffindor fourth-year muttered something about Luna having "a few screws loose." Harry's jaw tightened, but Luna seemed unbothered.
"How many did you catch?" Harry asked.
"They tried to steal my wand last night," Luna said, and something in her tone made Harry's stomach clench. He'd heard from Ginny about how cruel the Ravenclaws could be—hiding Luna's things, mocking her beliefs. He wondered if "Marbles" was her way of processing their harassment.
"Well, I'm nervous as hell," Harry admitted. "How many do you think I have?"
Luna's expression shifted, becoming sharp and focused. "More than all of us combined, Harry."
The words hit him like cold water. His mind immediately went to his Holy Magic—the power he kept hidden, the secret that could make him a target. Did she know? Could she somehow sense it?
No. Impossible. She was just being Luna.
He shook off the paranoia and dropped back to walk with Hermione, who was now frantically flipping pages.
"No amount of books is going to prepare you for this," he said gently.
Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin. "I've reread this seven times and I still don't feel ready." Her voice carried a note of genuine distress. "When it comes to actual practice, I... I lack experience."
"That's the thing, Hermione." Harry caught her gaze and held it. "When it comes to fighting, you'll never be ready for the first time. No matter how much you read or practice, that first real moment will always catch you off guard. But remember first year? You'd never flown before, and when we needed you to catch that key, you flew with us. You'll do this too."
Color rose in Hermione's cheeks, her eyes softening. "Thank you," she mouthed, then pressed a quick kiss to his cheek for luck.
The courtyard doors swung open.
Mad-Eye Moody stood in the center like a scarred monument to violence. His magical eye whirred and spun, taking in every student. When he smiled—if that grotesque twist of his mouth could be called a smile—several students actually stumbled backward.
Auror Tonks leaned against the far wall, her hair a vibrant pink today, arms crossed but expression watchful.
"Thank you for delivering the lambs to slaughter," Moody rasped, and his grin widened at the fear that rippled through the crowd.
Harry rolled his eyes and stepped forward, refusing to be intimidated.
"Ahhhh, Harry Potter." Moody's magical eye fixed on him, the pupil dilating. "Heard you've got some spine, boy. We'll see."
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat sharply. "Alastor, remember this session is only two hours, and there are rules—"
"Rules?" Moody's laugh was like grinding metal. "You're mistaken, Minerva. These aren't your students right now. They're *mine*. Dumbledore gave me this club to run as I see fit, and I intend to make sure every single one of them can fight by the time I'm done. If even one of them walks out of here still helpless, then I've failed. Now get out."
McGonagall's lips thinned to a razor line, but she nodded. Professor Flitwick did the same, and both heads of house departed, the door closing with ominous finality behind them.
Moody's eye swept the courtyard. "Before we begin this farce, who here knows the rules of duelling?"
Hermione's hand shot up before anyone else's could.
"Name," Moody barked.
"Hermione Granger, sir."
"Tell me, Miss Granger—if a Death Eater showed up right now and attacked us, would he follow the rules?"
Laughter rippled through the students. Hermione's face burned crimson, her hand falling.
"Professor." Harry's voice echoed. "I don't think it's fair to ask a question and then humiliate the person who answers it. I agree that in a life-or-death situation, rules go out the window. But Hermione answered what you asked. She deserves better than derision for that."
Moody's real eye narrowed. His magical one spun to focus entirely on Harry. "Mister Potter. I read you tested yourself against the real thing at the World Cup a month back. That true?"
Harry felt the weight of dozens of stares. "Yes. Got separated from my friends. Death Eaters attacked. I defended myself."
He could practically hear the gossip already spreading like wildfire.
Moody studied him for a long moment, then addressed the crowd. "We're wasting time. You want to know what's most important in a fight?" He waited, met only with silence. "NEVER LET YOUR GUARD DOWN! CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
The roar made several students flinch.
"Just because you think the enemy is down doesn't mean you can lower your wand. Doesn't mean you can relax. Doesn't mean they can't still kill you! CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
A spell shot from Moody's wand without warning—straight at Harry.
"*Protego!*" Harry's shield snapped into place, deflecting the curse.
"Ten points to Gryffindor. Good reflexes, Potter." Moody's eye whirred again, seeking his next target. "Bellatrix Lestrange took down five trained Aurors. Even after losing her wand, she got it back and kept fighting. Never. Underestimate. Anyone. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
Another spell—this one caught Hermione in the stomach. She crumpled with a pained gasp. Harry helped her up, never taking his eyes off Moody.
"As I said. Constant vigilance."
Nearly everyone raised their wands defensively.
Moody looked at them like they were imbeciles. "Why are you all—"
A spell flew from his wand, catching a Ravenclaw in the leg. The student's cry of pain echoed in the courtyard.
"Now," Auror Tonks said, her voice blessedly calmer, "we're going to teach you the basics. Shield charm. Disarming spell. Stunning spell. Knowing them isn't enough, but it's a start."
"Who here can cast *Expelliarmus*?" Moody demanded.
A handful of hands rose.
"Pathetic!" Moody roared. "Sitting ducks, all of you! What did you learn before I got here? That werewolf Lupin must've been useless."
Anger flared hot in Harry's chest. "It's not Professor Lupin's fault! The teacher before him was a fraud who couldn't cast *Expelliarmus* himself, and the one before that had Voldemort literally attached to his head. Professor Lupin was the best Defense teacher we've ever had!"
Murmurs of agreement rose around him.
Moody's magical eye fixed on Harry with unnerving intensity. "You're confident, Potter. How about a demonstration?" His gnarled hand grabbed Harry's shoulder, pushing him into the center of the courtyard.
Dean Thomas laughed.
"You find this amusing, Thomas? You'll be duelling Potter!" Moody dragged Dean out as well. The laughter died on his face.
The two Gryffindors faced each other. Ron and Hermione cheered from the sidelines.
"Only rule: no Unforgivables. On three!"
"One!"
"Two!"
"Three!"
"*Expelliarmus!*"
Dean's wand flew from his hand before he could even begin to cast. Harry caught it, tossed it back.
Moody's expression shifted to something almost approving. He grabbed a Ravenclaw girl—Arta Starr. She strode forward eagerly.
"Winner stays. Loser leaves. One! Two! Three!"
"*Expelliarmus!*" "*Petrificus Totalus!*"
"*Protego!*" Harry's shield deflected Arta's spell while his own caught her dead-on. She toppled like a felled tree.
"*Finite,*" Tonks said, releasing her.
Next came Cho Chang, who smiled at Harry in a way that made him uncomfortable. He knew she was involved with Cedric Diggory.
"*Expelliarmus,*" she cast.
Harry sidestepped. "*Stupefy.*"
She hit the ground. Tonks helped her get up.
The courtyard doors opened again—Hufflepuffs and Slytherins flooded in, making the space uncomfortably crowded. Snape glared at Harry before muttering something to Moody and departing with Professor Sprout.
"Let's continue," Moody bellowed.
George Weasley. Justin Finch-Fletchley. A fourth-year Hufflepuff. Harry defeated them all with clinical efficiency.
"Anyone think they can beat Potter?" Moody called out, amusement creeping into his gravel voice.
Draco Malfoy stepped forward.
"Your daddy's not here to protect you, Malfoy," Harry taunted.
"I win my battles without him," Draco shot back, echoing their previous exchange.
Both allowed themselves small smiles.
"Go!" Moody barked.
"*Stupefy!*" they shouted simultaneously.
Both raised shields. The spells deflected harmlessly.
"*Expelliarmus!*" Malfoy cast.
Harry ducked. The spell sailed overhead.
"*Stupefy! Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus!*" Malfoy fired in rapid succession.
Harry sidestepped each one while simultaneously casting, "*Expelliarmus!*"
Malfoy's wand wrenched from his grip mid-spell, flying into Harry's waiting hand.
The Gryffindors erupted in cheers. Even some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs applauded.
"Good work, Potter," Moody grunted.
Hermione threw her arms around Harry. Ron high-fived him. Questions pelted him from all sides until Moody resumed instruction.
Harry couldn't help but notice the impressed glances following him for the rest of the session.
---
Later
Neville approached where Harry and Ron had started a chess match.
"Harry," Neville said hesitantly.
"Hi, Neville." Harry moved a piece without thinking. "What's up?"
"I was wondering... could you teach me those spells you used?"
"Sure. Tomorrow after lunch? We're free then."
"It might take me a while," Neville admitted, looking down. "I'm not very good."
"We've got plenty of time," Harry assured him, then winced as Ron declared checkmate in five moves.
"Where should we practice?" Neville asked.
"Abandoned classroom," Harry suggested. "Don't want to accidentally hit anyone."
"Practice for what?" Hermione inquired, looking up from McGonagall's latest homework assignment.
"Harry's showing me some of those spells from the club," Neville explained quickly.
"That's brilliant!" Hermione's eyes lit up. "Can I come? I really need to practice shield charms properly..."
"Could you show me that one that slowed George down?" Ron asked. "What was it—impedimeta?"
"*Impedimenta,*" Harry corrected. "Look, I'll show you all, but—"
Dean, Seamus, and Parvati descended before he could finish.
"That would be amazing!" Seamus exclaimed. "Best duelling I've ever seen!"
Harry tensed at the growing crowd. "I'm not that good."
"You killed a basilisk second year and stopped You-Know-Who twice!" Parvati called.
"That was luck!"
Ron and Hermione snorted in perfect unison.
"What?" Harry demanded.
"Only you would downplay beating You-Know-Who three times!" Ron managed through laughter.
"Honestly, Harry, give yourself some credit!" Hermione added.
Harry looked at the expectant faces surrounding him. Ron was openly laughing now. Hermione rolled her eyes affectionately. Neville looked nervous. Ginny seemed beyond excited. Luna was... well, Luna. And across the table, another Ravenclaw watched him with peculiar intensity.
"Fine," Harry relented. "I'll find a place and let you know before dinner. We'll meet tomorrow—Saturday works for everyone, yeah?" He slipped naturally into leadership.
"Can we bring friends?" Parvati asked.
Harry shrugged. "Sure."
---
Later
"What are you reading?" Hermione asked, watching Harry flip frantically through a crimson-bound book.
"Defense spellbook from Diagon Alley last summer." Harry didn't look up. "Might as well be prepared."
"Harry!" Hermione sounded exasperated. "You're going to be brilliant!"
Harry shook his head. "They're expecting some kind of prodigy."
"If killing a basilisk with a sword to save my sister isn't heroic, I don't know what is," Ron pointed out.
"It sounds more impressive when you phrase it like that," Harry countered.
"But that's the point!" Hermione interjected. "You know more about defensive magic than I do!"
Ron's jaw dropped. "You just admitted someone knows more than you about something."
Hermione glared. "I'm not that arrogant."
"First time you've admitted it, though," Ron argued.
Hermione looked like she wanted to retort but bit it back, turning to Harry instead. "Look, it's one session. Then you're done worrying."
"It'll be a disaster," Harry muttered.
"When the room explodes, we'll be right there with you," Ron joked.
Harry groaned as they half-led, half-dragged him toward the classroom.
At least twenty people had gathered. Fred and George brought Lee Jordan. Both Patil twins appeared. Dean, Seamus, and Colin milled about. Cho Chang stood with a friend. Ginny's red hair caught the light as she talked with Luna. Neville steeled himself in the corner. While Gryffindors dominated, a solid mix of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws filled out the crowd.
Every eye turned to Harry.
"Glad everyone found the place," Harry said, his carefully rehearsed speech evaporating under their collective gaze.
Silence.
"Right. Let's begin."
More silence.
All his mental preparation—the lesson plan, the explanations, the demonstrations—fled his mind. He couldn't teach them Holy Magic even if he wanted to; you had to be born with it.
"We'll start with *Expelliarmus*—the Disarming Charm," Harry heard himself say. "Whatever your opponent's holding flies toward you. Wand, knife, doesn't matter..."
---
Ginny felt breathless watching Harry teach.
He looked so comfortable, so completely in his element. She knew he'd been stressing about this all week, and while she was glad he'd realized he could do it, she was more captivated by how naturally he commanded the room.
The confident way he demonstrated *Expelliarmus*, *Stupefy*, and *Protego*... the authority in his voice when he told them to pair off... the patience when he corrected struggling students... it left her heart racing and her face flushed.
"Ginny, if you grip your wand any tighter, it'll snap in half," Harry laughed.
Ginny nearly jumped out of her skin.
"It's good to be alert in a fight, but you can't let fear affect your performance. You have to be sure of yourself."
"Thanks," Ginny managed breathlessly.
"Here." Harry's hand settled on her back, warm and steady. "If you keep standing like that, you'll have back problems. You need to be comfortable."
Ginny relaxed into a more natural stance—which pressed her back against Harry's chest. She could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong. His breathing. The warmth of him.
Merlin.
Harry adjusted her grip, his fingers gentle on her white-knuckled hand. "Go get 'em, Ginny," he whispered near her ear.
Her partner, Aodorn Falcon, had been smirking through the entire exchange.
"Enjoy that, Weasley?" he teased.
Forgetting entirely about *Expelliarmus*, Ginny shouted, "*Bat-Bogey Hex!*"
Aodorn screamed as enchanted bats erupted from his nose, swarming around his head.
Ginny smirked, proud she'd gotten it right.
Harry's laugh made her grin apologetically.
"I didn't say you couldn't use other spells," Harry reminded her. "Just maybe go easier on him."
"Aye aye, Captain," Ginny mock-saluted.
Harry laughed again—a sound that made something in her chest tighten pleasantly—then moved to help Neville, who looked miserable at his inability to cast anything. Harry appeared to be reassuring him with quiet words.
"*Petrificus Totalus.*"
Ginny toppled as Aodorn's spell caught her.
He grinned victoriously down at her. Ginny glared up at him, furious at herself. Why does Harry have to be so damn distracting?
"You okay, Ginny?" Harry asked, amused, after Aodorn reversed the spell.
"No, thanks to you!" Ginny huffed, crossing her arms.
"Me?" Harry looked genuinely confused.
"You were distracting me!" She pointed accusingly.
"How?"
"You were..." Ginny trailed off, realizing the trap she'd set for herself.
She stared at her feet, face burning.
Neither spoke.
"It seems you both have a case of Wrackspurts!" Luna announced dreamily, unknowingly breaking the tension.
"Perhaps," Ginny chuckled weakly.
---
After an hour of shouting, spellwork, and hitting the floor, dinner time approached.
"Same time next week?" Alicia Spinnet asked as people gathered their things.
Harry blinked, blindsided. He hadn't considered more than one session, but... he'd actually enjoyed this.
Hermione elbowed him.
"Yeah," Harry blurted.
No one objected.
"We should have a name," Hermione suggested.
General agreement rippled through the room.
"Ideas?" Harry asked.
"Defensive Association?" Cho proposed. "DA for short?"
"Perfect," Cedric agreed. "The DA it is."
People filed out, still chattering excitedly.
"You were brilliant, Harry!" Hermione gushed.
Harry flushed. "I wouldn't say—"
"No, 'incredibly awesome' is more accurate," Ginny interrupted.
Harry shot her an exasperated look.
"Oh, sorry," Ginny said with mock seriousness. "What I meant was, 'You were absolutely terrible and everyone loathed you.' Better?"
"Surprisingly, no," Harry answered sarcastically.
"But you did agree to more meetings," Hermione noted carefully.
"Yeah, I did," Harry admitted.
"Hermione's digging for information," Ginny observed.
"When is Hermione *not* digging for information?" Ron asked.
"She is," Harry confirmed, offering nothing more.
"You have no idea what to do next, do you?" Ginny asked.
"Alright, fine—it was spur-of-the-moment," Harry confessed. "I haven't exactly put together a lesson plan."
"We can help," Hermione volunteered enthusiastically. "There must be scheduling charms, and we should definitely research more advanced defense techniques in the library—"
"By 'we' she means 'Hermione,'" Ron laughed.
"I only have so much time!" Hermione protested. "I can't do everything."
"Whatever you can manage would be great," Harry said, then kissed her as thanks.
"Get a room!" Ginny called, looking away from the couple.
---
A Secret Place
Voldemort sat in his armchair before the fire, staring into the flames. After a long moment, a face appeared—his loyal servant.
"My Lord, I have concerning news," the face said, bowing.
Voldemort's red eyes narrowed. "Speak."
"The boy, my Lord. He's more formidable than anticipated. Dumbledore reinstated the Duelling Club. Two days ago I supervised the training, hoping to humiliate him, but... he defeated everyone. Easily. I had to stop pairing opponents against him because he won every single match."
Voldemort's fingers steepled before his lipless mouth. The boy should not be underestimated. All those born with Holy Magic were dangerous—their power could destroy Horcruxes. That could never be permitted.
"My Lord, may I speak freely?" At Voldemort's nod, the servant continued, "We only need his blood. Perhaps I should simply take a sample and return to your service immediately."
"NO." Voldemort's voice rose, echoing in the chamber. "The plan remains unchanged. I want him there. I want him to witness my resurrection. I want him to see me return stronger than ever, and I will prove that what happened that night was mere luck. Is that understood?"
"Yes, my Lord. Should I... interfere with his duelling club activities?"
"No," Voldemort said curtly. "Unnecessary. Just ensure he arrives at the graveyard when the time comes. You may go."
The face vanished. Voldemort was alone again save for Nagini, who slithered onto his chest, meeting his crimson gaze.
"Oh, my dear Nagini," he hissed in Parseltongue. "Soon it will all be mine. Once I'm resurrected with his blood, Holy Magic itself will belong to me. The entire world will bow down before Lord Voldemort."
The snake's tongue flickered in what might have been agreement as the fire crackled and danced.
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