The second task lit the castle up with arguments.
After Mingyu's disgrace, he went from favourite to pariah overnight. Students just spat his name now.
Fleur, on the other hand, came out of the whole thing with her chin high and her fire doubled. The way she'd stormed back into the task showed her new determination. More than one school started copying her braid.
But it was Amara who stunned everyone. Every stage she passed through, she turned into another show. Her magic was loud, clever, different. Students couldn't stop talking about it, especially the Animagus transformation. One second she was treading water mid-obstacle, the next she slipped under the surface, smooth as anything, leopard-spotted and gilled. The creature moved like ink underwater, too fast for the merrows, too sharp for the grindylows. Men cursed Kenneth whenever they saw him grinning like a fool next to her.
Of course, Hogwarts being the hosting school meant the chatter was loudest in Cedric's favour. And naturally, they wanted Cedric to win.
He made it easy to root for him. Clever, kind, easy on the eyes if you asked most of the castle, and he'd handled the tasks like a champion. Graceful in flight, sharp underwater. Nothing shining, but solid all around.
By the scoreboard, he and Amara were neck-and-neck.
Fleur had clawed her way back to third with steel in her smile.
Krum was fourth.
No one cared about the fifth.
***
Cassian had something more important to take care of that day. He was mid-button when Bathsheda swatted his hand away.
"Don't touch that," she said, already tightening his collar with a level of focus normally reserved for curse-breaking.
He groaned. "Do you need to do this?"
"Yes," she said, like it wasn't up for debate. "You're meeting the Wizengamot. Try not to look like you've just rolled out of a broom cupboard."
"I didn't," he muttered.
"Your hair says otherwise."
She yanked a fold of fabric straight. He swatted at her hand. She didn't stop.
He rolled his eyes. "We own the paper, Baths. Fudge could throw a fit, but what's he going to do, argue with his own headlines?"
"That's not the point," she said, flattening the seam down his front. "You still need to convince the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
"We pushed the Prophet for weeks."
"And?"
Cassian sighed. "Fine. Go ahead. Do your magic."
Bathsheda gave a pleased hum and reached for his sleeve.
He stood still enough, only shifting once to dodge her elbow. In theory, he could've done it himself, but she'd already decided, and arguing would've taken longer.
"If one of them says the word 'bloodline' unironically, I'm hexing their teeth out."
"Just smile."
"I'll grit them."
She gave the fabric a final pat, then stepped back, clearly satisfied. "There. Almost respectable."
"Cheers."
He was barely out the door when Hermione cornered him with Luna and Daphne.
Cassian looked over the top of her head. "Why are there three of you?"
Hermione didn't blink. "Luna and Daphne. They're Deputy Heads of H.E.A.R.T."
His eyebrow went up. "You've got a hierarchy now?"
"Yes."
"Did you form a government while I wasn't looking?"
"Working on it."
Luna waved too wide. Daphne nodded with a smile.
Cassian squinted at Hermione. "Did you pick them strategically? Are you becoming a little manipulative politician?"
Hermione gasped like he'd accused her of blood magic. "No!"
Luna smiled. "We joined on our own."
Cassian kept walking. "Still not convinced. Come on. Headmaster's waiting."
Hermione froze. "Why?"
Cassian didn't stop. "You don't know? He's the Supreme Mugwump."
Hermione swallowed. "I knew, of course. But I didn't think he would oversee our defence." Colour drained out of her face.
"You'll be presenting your case to him," Cassian added, grinning over his shoulder.
Her mouth opened. Closed.
He laughed.
***
The room was enormous. High ceiling, high windows, high expectations. Most of the portraits were asleep or pretending to be.
Wizengamot robes swept the tiers in streaks of blue and bronze. The Sacred Twenty-Eight sat scattered across the central arc, some looking bored, some looking smug. The Order of Merlin seats sat closest to the centre, gilded like thrones, mostly empty but for a few older witches who looked like they could transfigure you into an ant just by thinking too hard.
Cassian stood beside Hermione at the front, hands tucked neatly behind his back. She clutched her folder, mumbling the whole defence over and over.
Dumbledore hadn't spoken yet. The room hadn't quite settled. People were still shifting in their seats, robes rustling.
Lucius cut across the waiting silence with all the subtlety of a cracked whip. "Pardon, Supreme Mugwump," he said, tone already coated in mock-courtesy. "But what is he doing here?"
He flicked a look toward the third row. Arthur Weasley, tucked between Augusta Longbottom and Sirius Black, blinked up mildly, face already going a shade too red.
Regulus gave the faintest scoff. "What's wrong with him being here?"
Lucius didn't look at him. "Well, traditionally, members present at a Sacred vote are expected to have paid their seat levy. The Weasleys haven't for years. Understandably, given Arnold's financial limitations."
Arthur's jaw twitched, but he didn't rise. Just sat back, hands folded in his lap.
Sirius smiled lazily. "He has good friends."
Lucius's brow barely twitched. A few heads turned.
Plenty in the room assumed Sirius had paid the levy for him.
Neither of them said a word.
Across the aisle, someone whispered something about "old money being petty again."
Cassian gave the room a long, slow blink. "Shall we move on to actual business before Lucius starts checking everyone's credit score?"
That got a small laugh.
Dumbledore finally stood. The chatter died at once. His expression didn't change, but his eyes moved across the chamber, landing briefly on each speaker, each whisperer, each troublemaker.
Hermione, standing beside Cassian with her folder clutched to her chest, straightened up.
Dumbledore nodded. "The House-Elf Behavioural Welfare Motion has been tabled by Miss Granger of Hogwarts, with legal sponsorship by Professor Rosier and supporting faculty." He paused. "The motion aims to amend existing magical welfare law to include protections against mistreatment of non-human magical labour."
Lucius made a noise that wasn't quite a laugh.
Hermione coughed into her hand, then stepped up, "I'd like to begin by thanking the Supreme Mugwump, the Wizengamot, the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and all honoured members of the Order of Merlin for hearing our petition.
"We're not here to overturn tradition," she went on. "I've spent the past few months learning how House-Elves live. What they value. And I've come to understand that, while the relationship with Magicks looks like servitude, on paper, in principle, it's not a chain. It's closer to... symbiosis. They believe it's their role to serve. But that belief is being taken advantage of."
She glanced up at the room, at robes, crests, brooches that meant old money and older names. Most stared back like she was pitching cauldron insurance.
A few heads nodded. Mostly older Magicks. Cassian recognised one of them, Lady Braithewaite. Served on four committees, owned three manors, and kept two elves who dressed better than she did.
"A number of magical families," Hermione continued, voice tightening slightly, "use that loyalty to justify cruelty. Abuse. Punishment. With no protections in place, nothing stops them. House-Elves don't speak out. They don't even think they're allowed to."
Someone snorted from the side row. Cassian didn't need to turn. Probably Nott or one of the Carrows.
Hermione flipped a page. "The proposal is simple. We're asking for basic protections. Legal acknowledgment of magical creature welfare. Not freedom or revolution. Just the right for House-Elves to be safe from mistreatment. House-elves trust us. That trust should come with responsibility."
Lucius crossed one arm over the other. "And how do you intend to measure that responsibility, Miss Granger? With rules? Paperwork? Would you have us register every kind act or every command?"
Hermione didn't blink. "I'd settle for a binding ban on punishments that leave them unable to walk. Or speak."
A few voices shifted uneasily.
Dumbledore looked to Hermione again. "Go on."
She nodded. "We've drafted amendments to the Magical Creature Welfare Act. Just three clauses. The first prevents use of physical punishment spells on elves. The second mandates their right to rest, at least five hours every twenty-four, which was decided by house-elves as the optimal highest limit. The third gives them the right to refuse an order that would harm themselves or another."
Someone muttered something about "absurd."
"The fact that those things aren't already law should embarrass us," Hermione said. "It does me."
She took a deep breath.
"Thank you," she finished, then stepped back.
Dumbledore nodded. "Does the Wizengamot have questions for the petitioners?"
Immediately, a witch in deep plum robes raised her hand. "Miss Granger, what do the elves think of this?"
Hermione glanced over. "The Hogwarts elves were wary at first. But once we explained it wasn't about freeing them without their consent, just ensuring safety, they listened."
"Listened, or agreed?"
Hermione straightened. "They voted. In favour of support."
Someone scoffed. "Since when do elves vote?"
Cassian stepped forward, grin sharp. "Since someone bothered to ask."
A few heads turned. Dumbledore didn't stop him.
Cassian folded his hands behind his back, gaze sweeping the room. "The Magical Creature Registry Act hasn't been updated since 1573. House-elves are still legally listed under Class Three Magical Assistants. Same as animated teapots. If anyone here thinks that's acceptable, speak now. I'll make notes."
No one did.
He smiled slightly. "Right. Thought so."
Another voice came from the back. "But elves aren't people."
Cassian stared the speaker down.
"Yeah? And that justifies mistreatment? Punishments?" His tone was flat, but it hit like a thrown brick.
The man didn't answer, just shifted in his seat, trying not to look like he was suddenly rethinking his life choices.
Lucius leaned back in his chair, gaze sharpening. "No one here supports cruelty, Rosier. But this... overreach-"
"Oh, we're using that word now?" Cassian cut in. "Is it overreach to stop someone hexing a child? Or does the species suddenly make that fine?"
Lucius ignored the question. "There are centuries of magical tradition behind this. We don't change the entire foundation of magical society for the sake of-"
"The sake of not torturing unpaid labour?" Cassian said, raising his brows. "Gods, how reckless."
Augusta Longbottom shifted in her seat. "My family's kept elves since they first appeared. We've never laid a hand on one. Never needed to."
Cassian nodded slightly. "That's exactly the point, Lady Longbottom. The law shouldn't cater to the worst of us, but it should protect against them."
Daphne stepped forward. "If even one family's doing harm, that's enough. No creature should be terrified of their own home."
Hermione looked between them, calmer now. "This isn't about disrupting tradition. It's about making sure tradition isn't being used to excuse cruelty."
Lucius leaned forward, voice low and oily. "And how, exactly, do you plan to enforce these... protections? Who watches the homes? The spells? The elves?"
Cassian grinned. "We'll add it to the Ministry wards."
And that was enough to set the room off like he'd lobbed a firework into a dragon's arse.
Several seats screeched back. A woman in the back actually dropped her quill. Even Fudge's jaw clenched. The man glanced sideways, and the toad seated beside him, Umbridge, wearing a ribbon the colour of regret, let out a thin, "Hem hem."
Cassian's eye twitched.
Fudge stood, all troubled dignity and half-sweated composure. "Cassian... the Ministry wards are not to be trifled with. They are our protection."
Cassian nodded. "Exactly, Minister. Protection's what we're asking for."
A few murmurs sparked again. Someone in the back said "crazy" under his breath. Cassian heard it and didn't bother hiding the smile.
Someone up front tapped a finger on the rail. "You're suggesting embedding magical creature protections directly into the national wardnet?"
"Yes. They already track underage magic," he went on, casual. "Spell signatures, ambient flow. You've got a whole lattice running under the country, and you use it to catch teenagers sneaking out with hover charms."
He stepped forward a pace. "So why not use it for something useful?"
"Because," Umbridge piped up, sounding like a kettle left to boil too long, "the Ministry wards are deeply complex, and highly sensitive. Expanding them could cause... disruptions."
"Only if you do it badly," Cassian said, not looking at her.
A few laughed then quickly smothered.
"We're not talking full surveillance," he added. "Safety flag. Triggered by illegal harm spells used on House-Elves. The moment someone tries to Crucio a kitchen staffer, the system pings. That's it."
Fudge looked like someone had swapped his tea for vinegar. "That's not what the wards are for."
Cassian shrugged. "Then you've built the world's most over-engineered babysitter."
Even Sirius, Augusta, and Regulus stared like he'd announced he was hexing the moon. Cassian didn't mind. In fact, he looked downright pleased with himself.
"I read the original spell," he said, too chirpy. "It's complicated, yes. Real piece of work. But not that hard to tweak. The creators weren't petty, knew we might need to update the thing as time moved on. Frankly, I'd be more surprised if the Unspeakables haven't already looked into it."
Unspeakables.
Even the Sacred Twenty-Eight shut up for once. Just a long moment of collective throat-clearing silence, as if someone had opened a drawer marked "Classified" and left it swinging.
Fudge leaned forward, all worry and sweat. "Well, er... I suppose it wouldn't hurt to, ah, seek input. From the Department."
"Of course not," Cassian said, far too cheerfully. "They're the experts, after all."
Fudge straightened his robes with unnecessary force. "Yes, well. I'll extend a formal invitation. For insight."
He then sent a Patronus.
A parrot. Of course it was.
Cassian nearly choked on his laughter when it swooped into the chamber, bobbing its bright head like it was about to start reciting Ministry policy in rhyme. It didn't.
Then it vanished in a flash of feathers and faint bureaucratic disappointment.
Cassian cleared his throat, barely suppressing a grin. "That's not even symbolic. That's just accurate."
Five minutes later, the air shifted.
A figure stepped through the rear doors, draped head to toe in something that looked Ministry-standard cloth but flowed heavier, layered like blackout curtains. Face completely covered. Height? Impossible to tell. Build? Vague at best. Might've been broad-shouldered. Might've been hunched. Might've been carrying two dragons under the robe for all anyone could prove.
Even Cassian squinted. He hadn't heard footsteps. Nor was there a scent. The robe didn't even rustle when it moved.
The figure stopped dead centre in the chamber, just behind the speaker's ring. Didn't bow. Didn't announce themselves. Just tilted their head in Dumbledore's direction.
"Spokesperson for the Department of Mysteries," they said. Voice was strange, filtered through something. Flat, but not monotone. Could've been anyone.
Fudge stood, tugging at his robes. "Er, thank you for coming on short notice."
The figure didn't respond.
Fudge cleared his throat. "We have a proposed amendment involving integration of Ministry ward functions to monitor poor treatment against magical creatures."
The Unspeakable turned its head toward Cassian.
Cassian raised a hand lazily. "That was me. Hi."
Still nothing.
"Proposal noted," the figure said. "Your amendment suggests an auxiliary ping. Passive trigger. Is that correct?"
Cassian nodded. "Non-invasive, spell-based identifier. Flags high-impact magic cast directly on Class Three registered entities, elves, in this case. Everything else stays untouched."
The figure didn't move. Then, nodded, probably.
"Acceptable."
Half the room jolted like someone had rang a bell under their robes.
Even Dumbledore blinked. "Acceptable...?"
The Unspeakable's head tilted, like it didn't understand why anyone would be surprised. "Feasible. Within existing bounds. No breach of current structure. No network instability."
Lucius leaned forward. "You mean to tell us you'd allow some boy to tamper with-"
The figure raised their hand.
"Professor Rosier's schema integrates with the 1799 override patch. No tampering. Only augmentation. We recommend minor reinforcement in high-magic zones. Otherwise, safe."
Lucius snapped his mouth shut.
Cassian gave a slow grin. "Well. That's one way to get a peer review."
The figure spoke again. "If this passes, the Department will implement it within thirty days."
Cassian raised an eyebrow. "That fast?"
The Unspeakable gave the faintest nod. "Children are being hurt."
Then it turned and walked out, same way it came.
Lucius stood abruptly, the scrape of his chair echoing.
"This is madness. You're allowing the Unspeakables to rewrite law now?"
"No," Dumbledore said mildly. "They're just confirming what's already possible."
"Possible?" Lucius hissed. "A schoolteacher stitch his pet project into national security wards-"
Cassian didn't so much as glance at Lucius. He just gave a mild shrug, voice lazy as anything.
"This petition wasn't signed by one schoolteacher with too much free time. It's backed by thousands. Magicks across the country. Entire regions, in some cases. We've submitted the signatures. You lot are listening now because of that. So no, this isn't me standing here as Cassian Rosier, this is an entire bloody nation speaking through someone with a decent tailor and a spine."
He shifted his stance slightly, hands still behind his back. "We've presented the case. The Unspeakables have weighed in. Your turn."
He looked directly at Dumbledore. "It's time to vote."
Dumbledore gave a nod, turning toward the assembly.
"All those in favour of the amendment, clauses one through three, and the Ministry integration, raise your wands."
The air popped. Augusta Longbottom's wand went up. Arthur and Sirius followed. Regulus lifted his.
Dozens of wands lifted in sync. A few slow, hesitant ones followed. Even a couple Cassian hadn't expected. The old guard, grudging but awake.
Hermione clutched her folder to her chest. Her knuckles went white.
Lucius didn't move.
Neither did Nott. Or Mulciber. Or Carrow. Or Selwyn.
Dumbledore didn't call them out.
"Those opposed?"
Lucius's wand rose, as if rushing to be the first. A few others joined. Cassian counted them with a glance. Laughably few.
Dumbledore nodded. "The amendment passes. Effective immediately."
Murmurs spread through the chamber. Some tight, angry. Others louder, half in disbelief.
Cassian turned to Hermione. She looked stunned.
She made a small noise, half-gasp, half‑disbelieving laugh. Daphne squeezed her arm. Luna blinked up at the ceiling like she expected confetti to fall.
Cassian grinned. "There we go. That's history."
Lucius surged to his feet. "This sets precedent-"
Arthur spoke before anyone else could, "Sit down, Malfoy. You are embarrassing yourself."
Someone choked down a laugh. Even Dumbledore's mouth twitched. Lucius swept his cloak sharply and stormed for the exit, chin high, shoulders stiff.
"Is that... really it?" Hermione asked in disbelief.
Cassian rested a hand on her shoulder. "That's legislation, Granger. Slow, messy, full of people who think their family crest is a personality trait. But yes. That's it."
The scribe stamped the parchment. A pulse of magic rolled across the chamber as the record sealed itself.
Hermione sighed. Loudly. Then wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve like she'd pretend later she wasn't crying at all.
Cassian gave her a soft nudge. "Congratulations. You changed the law before you got your O.W.L.s."
She let out a breathless laugh.
History made in a room full of old portraits and older egos.
Not bad for a Saturday.
(Check Here)
They came in silence. They left in silence.
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