The castle had learned how to behave.
Doors opened a half-second before I reached them. Staircases aligned without hesitation, their angles precise, efficient. Wards adjusted in anticipation of my movement, not reacting but preparing, like a system that had been trained on past data and was now predicting the next input.
The calm pressed in on me from every side.
It wasn't peace. It was compliance.
I slowed deliberately as I crossed the Transfiguration corridor. My boots echoed once, then not at all, the sound dampened by a subtle buffering charm woven into the stone. New. Clean. Ministry-grade. Hogwarts had never muted itself like this. It had always insisted on being felt.
Now it made space.
That was worse.
Runes traced the upper arches, faint enough to be missed if you weren't looking for them.
They shifted as I passed, not lighting, not flaring. Adjusting. I felt the adjustment along my spine, a fine pressure settling between my shoulders, like fingers aligning posture.
I kept my posture easy. Shoulders loose. Pace unhurried. My pulse stayed even, and I hated how easy that was. The pressure didn't spike. It recorded.
I felt the moment my trajectory became a data point.
They intercepted me outside the old Arithmancy classroom.
Not guards. Not Aurors. Two Ministry officials in neutral robes, faces polite, eyes alert. One stepped forward with a small incline of his head, as if we were meeting by appointment rather than design.
"Ms. Vane," he said. "Mr. Vale has requested your time."
Of course he had.
Cassian waited inside, hands clasped loosely behind his back, stance open, unthreatening. A table had been conjured in the centre of the room, bare save for a thin folio and a self-inking quill that hadn't yet been used.
The windows were open. Fresh air. Transparency. Control disguised as courtesy.
"Elara," he said, smiling with measured warmth. "Thank you for coming."
"I didn't have a choice," I replied.
"You always have a choice," Cassian said gently. "We're simply trying to ensure those choices are informed."
I took the chair opposite him and folded my hands in my lap. My breathing stayed even. The chair adjusted itself under my weight, subtle as a thought.
He noticed. He always did.
"The castle's behaviour over the last forty-eight hours has been exemplary," Cassian continued, opening the folio. "Response times down. Variance minimal. Structural stress well within acceptable limits."
He slid a page toward me. Charts. Clean lines. Predictable curves.
"Correlation doesn't imply causation," I said.
"No," he agreed readily. "But it does justify further study."
I didn't touch the paper.
Cassian watched that too.
"We've identified several patterns worth discussing," he went on. "Proximity thresholds. Interaction windows. Environmental feedback loops."
He spoke as if describing weather.
"You're classifying people as variables," I said.
"We're classifying risk," Cassian replied. "People happen to be part of the system."
"That's a choice," I said.
He smiled, almost apologetic. "So is ignoring responsibility when public safety is involved."
There it was. Ethical responsibility. The cleanest blade in his collection.
He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as if confiding. "We're not interested in assigning blame. Only in mitigation."
"And your mitigation plan?" I asked.
Cassian slid another page forward.
"Structured interaction schedules. Monitored separation windows. Oversight to ensure objectivity is maintained."
"Objectivity," I repeated.
"Yes," he said calmly. "Proximity distortion can compromise judgement. You're too close to this, Elara."
The words were familiar now. Polished by repetition.
"I'm close enough to understand it," I said.
"That's precisely the concern," Cassian replied. "Understanding born of involvement is not the same as understanding born of clarity."
The wards tightened again, just perceptibly. The room leaned toward his language.
"Your agency," Cassian continued, "isn't being questioned. It's being contextualised."
"As instability," I said.
"As influence," he corrected. "Unintentional, but measurable."
The door opened behind me without a sound.
Snape entered and took up position near the wall, arms folded, gaze already moving across the runes embedded in the classroom's perimeter. He didn't acknowledge Cassian. He didn't look at me.
His presence shifted the air anyway, a recalibration that had nothing to do with comfort.
Cassian's smile flickered, then reset.
"Severus. I'm glad you could join us."
"You summoned her without clearance,"
Snape said.
"Ministerial authority suffices," Cassian replied.
"Not for experimental protocol," Snape said flatly.
Cassian clasped his hands again. "We're not experimenting. We're observing."
"You're structuring outcomes," Snape said. "That invalidates your data."
Cassian turned to him, interested. "Only if you assume neutrality is possible at this stage."
Snape stepped closer to the table. Not to Cassian. To the folio.
"Your assumptions rely on static variables," he said. "This system is dynamic. Attempts at forced replication will introduce artefacts you won't recognise until they fail."
Cassian's eyes sharpened. "You're arguing for continued uncontrolled exposure."
"I'm arguing against premature containment," Snape replied. "Containment without comprehension produces collapse."
Cassian considered that. Then nodded slowly. "Which is why we're proposing oversight, not isolation."
I watched the exchange without moving. My body remained still. Too still.
"You're positioning Severus as a liability," I said.
Cassian didn't deny it. "I'm positioning him as a factor."
Snape's jaw tightened once. Nothing more.
"And me?" I asked.
Cassian met my gaze. "As a responsibility."
The word settled heavily in the room.
Outside, the castle shifted. Not a crack. Not a surge. A delay.
"They're training it," I said quietly. "To respond to authority rather than need."
Cassian's smile softened. "We're teaching it restraint."
"No," Snape said. "You're teaching it compliance."
The warding dimmed, then stabilised again, as if the castle had heard the disagreement and chosen the calmer option.
Cassian closed the folio. "We'll be proceeding with Phase Two."
The words carried weight now. Structure. Sequence. Escalation.
"With or without cooperation?" I asked.
He held my gaze. "With cooperation is preferable."
The answer was enough.
A subtle chime echoed through the room. Somewhere, a protocol activated itself without ceremony.
I rose from the chair. The castle adjusted around me, accommodating my movement with unsettling grace.
As I stepped into the corridor, I felt it register the refusal, slotting it neatly into a column marked variance.
Silence followed me, orderly and attentive.
They weren't trying to stop this.
They were trying to own it.