Cassian stepped into the Duelling Club and stopped so fast the door bumped his heel.

A wall of students, every year, every house, stood in formation. Seven neat rows. Straight backs. Wands in hand. Faces deadly serious.

He blinked. “…I’m either in the wrong room or I’ve died and this is the afterlife.”

Theodore Nott, standing front with his Headboy badge.

“Sir,” he said.

Hermione stepped beside him, Headgirl badge on her robe. “Professor Rosier,” she began, “we wanted to thank you. For teaching us. All these years.”

The entire club bowed slightly. Not from the waist in a theatrical way. More like a curtsy.

Cassian stared at them. “Right. Lovely. Terrifying. Please warn a man before standing like you’re delivering bad news.”

Hermione straightened. “We’ve prepared something.”

Theodore tapped his wand against his palm. “A demonstration of progress. A collective battle simulation.”

Cassian’s brows crept up. “Progress.”

He looked over the rows.

“As in… all of you? At once?” He let out a breathy scoff. “Absolutely not. I’m flattered you think I’m built like Merlin, but even I can’t duel a small army.”

The entire room deflated a little, like they’d hoped he might say yes but suspected he had survival instincts.

Hermione cleared her throat. “We anticipated that.”

Theodore raised his wand. “So we arranged reinforcements.”

Cassian blinked. “Reinforcements?”

The door behind him opened.

Bathsheda walked in first, looking far too pleased. Sirius followed, pausing to grin at the students like he was about to join a bar fight. Aurora swept in after him. Then Charity. Then Kingsley, who looked like he’d been dragged here on threat of paperwork. Sinistra. Lupin. All of them taking places along the wall

And that wasn’t all.

On the far side of the room stood Dumbledore, hands neatly folded, clearly delighted. Next to him, Minerva, arms crossed. Flitwick, eyes bright. Sprout, already tutting. Snape was almost too gleeful, probably expecting Cassian to embarrass himself. Hagrid beamed. Filch scowled. Madam Pomfrey hovered with a medical bag the size of a small child. Trelawney was draped across a chair, looking vaguely prophetic or asleep.

Cassian stared at the crowd. “Want to broadcast while you’re at it?”

Hermione, at least, looked a little embarrassed.

Cassian turned slightly. “Baths?”

She shrugged. “Might be fun”

Cassian faced the students again. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Hermione’s eyes gleamed.

“Oh,” Cassian murmured to Bathsheda. “We’re in trouble.”

Theo and Hermione pulled others around themselves, giving tasks.

Theo pointed at Anthony. “Shield team. Expect Lumos Noctis.”

Hermione pointed down the next line. “Susan. Detection rings. I want them up the second the lights go.”

Susan nodded, gathering her team.

Cassian chuckled softly.

“I’ll not use Noctis in this battle,” he said. “You wanted me to see your progress, right?”

A few students shifted at that. Someone near the back muttered something hopeful before being elbowed quiet.

Hermione turned back to Susan, “Scratch that. Join us in the front.”

“Neville, Daphne,” Hermione called, “you’re on terrain work. Blocks, blinds, anything that slows a direct push.”

Daphne nodded, Neville was already rolling his sleeves.

Harry shifted forward with Dean and Ron right behind him. Theo jerked his chin at them. “Potter, your group handles suppression. Slow them down with clean curses, nothing showy, nothing explosive.”

“Define nothing explosive,” Seamus muttered.

“No,” Hermione warned without looking at him.

Draco turned to his side of the row.

“Nott’s right flank is mine,” he said, wand already out. “Pansy, take the other. Keep the younger years behind you.”

Pansy gave an “Okay” and was already pulling the younger-years into position.

Tracey and Hannah moved to the rear line. Hermione glanced over her shoulder. “You two hold the back. Anything slips through, you stop it there.”

Tracey gave two fingers salute. “Leave it to us.”

And the room settled, dozens of students falling into formation. Cassian took it in, hands on his hips.

Bathsheda murmured beside him, “Oh, they’re more organised than I thought.”

Cassian muttered back, “We’re doomed.”

Theodore raised his wand. “Luck is on our side!”

Hermione mirrored him.

“Ready!” she called.

“Ready!” The room echoed.

Cassian turned to the staff lined beside him. “If we lose,” he said, “we’re never raising our heads in this castle again. So… let’s avoid the humiliation, shall we?”

A few wands lifted in silent agreement. Kingsley grunted.

Aurora and Sirius shifted right. Lupin and Sinistra drifted left. Kingsley and Charity held the back. Cassian and Bathsheda walked straight forward.

Neville muttered something, starting the battle.

And then plants rustled.

Cassian smirked. “Longbottom, playing with plants in my presence? That’s bold.”

A dry voice answered, “Is it?”

Daphne.

Cassian stilled. Wild growth. Erratic. Clever. Nothing moving in a straight line. Lines of creepers shot in every direction, some doubling back, some looping under benches, some weaving false trails.

Cassian’s eyebrows went up. “Well,” he murmured, “that’s new.”

Bathsheda leaned toward him. “They’re masking each other.”

“Mm,” he said. “Chaos gardening. Delightful.”

The vines surged again.

Cassian grinned.

“Oh, you’ve definitely grown.”

He squeezed Bathsheda’s hand, then the two of them split apart like they’d rehearsed it. His wand flicked up.

“Shield team! Incoming fire!” Seamus yelled before the spell had even finished forming.

Cassian clicked his tongue. “Prodigy of arson, that one.”

“Fire Orbis.”

A ring of fire burst outward in a wide sweep, heat roaring across the floorboards.

Shields rose in blue domes, blooming across the room as the fire rolled toward them. The flames licked against the barriers, then broke apart in sparks.

But the plants didn’t burn.

Not a single vine caught so much as a crisp.

Cassian slowed. “Fire-resistant. Naughty.”

Sprout, off to the side, cupped her hands round her mouth. “Longbottom, you dear boy, wonderful grafting! Miss Greengrass, marvellous structure! Excellent timing!”

Neville didn’t answer, too busy directing the creeping harvest toward Cassian.

Daphne snapped at him over the vines. “Left flank, two more up!”

The wooden floor rippled. Thick roots punched through the gaps between planks, weaving toward Cassian and Bathsheda from half a dozen angles. Some moved slow and obvious, others skimmed like serpents beneath the surface.

Cassian lifted his wand. Wind burst outwards. Vines tore free in strips, then knit themselves back together, thicker, cleverer, twisting round each other like they were sharing notes.

Sprout practically swooned. “Oh that’s Blackroot lineage! Whoever blended that deserves extra credit!”

Draco shouted, “Professor, you are distracting them!”

“Let her enjoy it!” Flitwick called.

More vines converged. Daphne had gone for density rather than reach, they weren’t elegant, but they were everywhere.

Cassian flicked his wand upwards. “Ascendio’s ugly cousin, up we-“

Before he could finish, Hermione barked, “Suppression team, now!”

Harry’s row fired in harmony. A volley of hexes tore across the room, purple, blue, gold, silent-cast, tight aim, not a single one straying off-target.

Aurora swept her wand, knocking the blasts aside cleanly. Sirius simply batted two away with his hand, showing off. Kingsley absorbed a Stunner to the chest and didn’t blink. Protego-variant the veteran Aurors used in the field shimmered over his skin.

Cassian ducked the next volley with a wry noise. “This is bullying.”

Bathsheda agreed. “This’s your fault.”

“Never teaching them again,” he said.

She side-eyed him. “Liar.”

True. But he could sulk about it anyway.

The floor stabilised under them but buckled behind, catching Sirius mid-step and nearly throwing him into the ceiling.

Sirius flailed. “That was rude!”

“You’re welcome!” Harry called back.

Susan’s voice cut through the chaos.

“Trap rings… up!”

A row of spell-circles flared on the floor, gold and spinning.

Bathsheda eyed the pattern. “That’s clever.”

Cassian groaned. “Of course the Hufflepuffs do battlefield maths.”

A second later, the rings lit bright red under his boots.

“NOW!” Hermione shouted.

Cassian didn’t hesitate, he vaulted sideways an instant before a cluster of vines burst from the flagged stones where he’d been standing.

Then Draco stepped forward.

“Left push!” he snapped.

Half his line pivoted and began herding the adults toward the centre with staggered Bludgeoners and spiking jinxes.

Pansy mirrored the manoeuvre from the right, her younger years tucked behind her like ducklings following a very irritable swan.

Harry yelled. “Reducto!”

A blast hammered down from above. Cassian dropped flat, the air cracking where his head had been. Pebbles rained down. He looked up.

Dean waved.

Cassian lifted a hand. “Wait!”

Theodore didn’t waste the moment. He hissed, “Combo three! Go!”

Seven wands swung.

Cassian barely had time to register the formation, three arc jinxes, two trip hexes skimming the ground, one binding weave and a Stunner riding its wake.

He flicked his wand in a circle. A ring of pale light spun round him, warping the spells as they touched it. The arc jinxes bent away first, then the binding spell crumpled into dust. The Stunner ricocheted upward and punched a hole through one of the stone rafters.

Flitwick gasped. “Mind the ceiling!”

Snape murmured, “One day, that roof will come down and I’ll laugh.”

Cassian shouted back, “You won’t live to see it!”

Another flare from the Hufflepuff rings. A lattice of roots lunged. Kingsley cleaved through them with a single motion, wand like a hammer, tone like a man who wanted to be anywhere else.

“Next time,” he grunted toward Cassian, “warn me.”

Cassian gestured round. “They started it!”

Bathsheda swept her hand and conjured a slicing arc that tore through the ground growth. It bought them two seconds.

Two.

Because the Ravenclaws, apparently bored of watching plants do all the heavy lifting, took their turn.

Lisa Turpin raised her wand.

“Liminal Fog!”

A pale mist spilled from her team, washing across the club room. It swallowed the light, warped depth, twisted outlines. Cassian’s sight blurred, seven Daphnes, five Hermiones, three Deans, all layered atop each other like a painting gone wrong.

Cassian shielded his eyes. “Who taught you that?”

Lisa shouted, “You!”

Of course he did.

Bathsheda muttered, “Countering this’ll take a moment.”

“No time,” Cassian said.

He flicked his wand behind him.

Wind danced at the tips of his fingers again.

“Tempestas Verto. Dual fold.”

The ring burst out twice as fast and twice as wide. Students braced behind shields. Wind splashed harmlessly, but the fog shredded away.

Cassian exhaled. “Much better.”

A shout rang from the back. “Monsters!”

Cassian turned.

Goyle stood there, wand raised proudly. He and Crabbe were learning from Hagrid lately. Good for them.

A manticore stomped past him.

A dozen large illusions lumbered forward, trolls, a giant squid with impressive teeth. They weren’t harmful, but they were very distracting.

Filch screamed.

Hagrid clapped. “Beautiful work!”

Another round of spells flew, bolts of white, green, blue, slashing past the staff line. Students had dropped into a rhythm. Shield pulse, shift, rotation. They’d built an actual formation.

They were good.

They were too good.

Bathsheda leaned close. “Shall we escalate?”

“Deeply tempted.”

He planted his foot and lifted his wand straight up.

The students braced.

The teachers braced.

The vines quivered.

Cassian called, “Push through!”

The floor bucked as if a giant had shoved it from beneath. Tiles rippled forward in a wave, knocking half the vines sideways and throwing the students’ front line into disarray. Shields staggered. Three spells misfired into the ceiling. Someone yelped.

Hermione yelled, “Regroup!”

Neville corrected the terrain in seconds, snapping blocks into place and catching three teachers’ footing mid-slip.

Cassian pointed at him. “Show-off!”

Daphne sent a wall of roots straight at Cassian, dense, tangled, reinforced.

Cassian grinned. “Better.”

He swept his wand.

The air cracked. A line of force shot through the roots, splitting them like they’d been snapped in a storm. Daphne swore under her breath and redirected the remnants toward Kingsley, who swatted them aside like unruly laundry.

On the right, Harry yelled, “Now!”

A volley of disarming charms flew.

Cassian batted three away. Bathsheda took two. Lupin dispersed another with a soft wave.

Sirius let one hit him. His wand skidded across the floor.

“Ha!” Harry cried.

Sirius shrugged, shifted into Padfoot, and barrelled into their front line.

The younger years shrieked.

Hermione held her ground. “Shields! Two layers!”

Padfoot hit the barrier and bounced off, skidding across the stone.

Then Ravenclaw regrouped.

Padma raised her wand alongside Terry, Mandy, Michael, Anthony, and Lisa. Six voices spoke at once…

“Aero Spicula!”

Weapons made of wind burst into being and hurtled at the staff line. Snape’s eyebrows rose. Even Dumbledore leaned in a fraction.

Cassian’s smile sharpened. “Alright. That’s enough.”

He snapped his wand down.

A pulse of pressure rippled outwards, knocking every spell off-course. Silver weapons shattered into soft sparks. The vines froze. The fog’s remnants thinned. Even the floor stilled.

The students blinked.

Cassian threw his hands out wide.

“Match over!”

Silence.

Then the groans started.

Theo dragged a hand down his face. “We almost had you.”

Bathsheda raised a brow. “Almost.”

Sirius, now human again, stretched his shoulders. “Close shave.”

Lupin pointed at him. “You tripped over a third-year.”

“He got in my way!”

Peakes shouted, “You ran into me, sir!”

Cassian laughed and clapped his hands, drawing the room back to order.

“That,” he said, “was excellent.”

Students straightened immediately.

“You held formation under pressure, you chained spells properly, your shielding teams read each other well, and for the love of Gods, the plants were horrifying.”

Neville flushed.

Sprout dabbed at her eyes. “So proud.”

Cassian surveyed them with a long sweep. “You didn’t win. Obviously.”

A few mutters.

“But,” he added, “you worked like a unit. And if you pull this off against actual threats instead of your teaching staff, you’ll do more than hold your own. You’ll keep each other alive.”

Quiet settled.

Hermione lifted her hand a little. “Same time next week?”

Cassian smirked. “Never again.”

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