Saturday morning. Room of Requirement.
Harry stood at the front of a group that had grown considerably since the first conversation in the common room. Two-thirds Gryffindors, the remainder Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, a mixed scatter of fourth through sixth years. No Slytherins. No first through third years — Harry had been firm about that, not because the younger students couldn't learn but because they'd be the first ones evacuated if anything actually happened, and he didn't want them to think of themselves as fighters before they were.
"The Stunning Spell is the most reliable combat tool you have," he said. His voice in the Room of Requirement carried differently from how it carried in a classroom — more direct, less filtered. "Today we're drilling it until it's automatic."
He pulled Colin Creevey forward.
Colin was a fourth-year now, four years of Hogwarts behind him and a decent foundation to show for it. He was nervous in the particular way that competent people were nervous before a demonstration — not doubting his ability but aware that demonstrating it in front of people was a different kind of thing than using it.
"Hit me," Harry said.
Colin fired. White light, a clean bolt, and Harry went backwards and down.
He bounced up immediately, grinning. "Good power. The form was a bit rough — the recoil threw you back and that'll tire you out in a long session. Watch."
He demonstrated the wrist movement slowly, breaking it into components. Held position, anchored shoulder, controlled follow-through. The wand as an extension of intent rather than a thing being waved.
He ran through it four times, and then the room paired off and the sound of Stupefy and the accompanying crash of people hitting the cushioned floor filled the space.
Cedric Diggory appeared at Harry's shoulder while the group warmed up. He'd come at Harry's invitation — Hufflepuff's Triwizard champion, steady and competent and quietly respected across house lines.
"Need me on the floor?" Cedric asked.
"I'd rather have you as a second instructor," Harry said. "You see things differently than I do."
They sparred briefly — a proper duel, fast and controlled, not a demonstration but the real thing. The room paused to watch, those who'd been mid-drill drifting to the edges. Harry pushed and Cedric pressed back, and neither of them was holding anything back, and the sparring resolved with Harry in the better position but only by a margin that was more about familiarity with the opponent than skill.
The room watched this and understood something about what Harry was asking them to aspire to.
Cedric took the struggling students. Harry roamed, correcting grips and angles and timing. Rennervate was taught alongside Stupefy — for every person who learned to knock someone down, a corresponding lesson in bringing them back.
By the time Harry called the session finished, most of the room had landed a clean Stunning Spell at least once, and several had landed three or four. Nobody had mastered it. Mastery wasn't a Saturday morning — mastery was the accumulation of Saturday mornings over months.
"Real progress," Harry told them. "Come back Sunday afternoon if you want to keep going."
Cedric found Harry afterward, Cho Chang at his side.
"Good session," Cedric said. "You've got a feel for this."
"Mad-Eye Moody has strong opinions about my footwork," Harry said, which made Cedric laugh.
"Quidditch trials in a month. You'd better be in fighting shape."
"I'll be there."
They headed in different directions. Harry turned back to find Ron and Ginny waiting, and they went in search of Kevin and Hermione.
Great Hall, already mid-lunch. Kevin and Hermione were at their usual spot — book open beside Hermione's plate, Kevin's plate not quite where it should be because he'd been using the space for notes, which Hermione had been moving back over the course of the meal with the patient persistence of someone making a recurring point.
"How did it go?" Kevin asked.
Harry gave the short version. Energy was good. Everyone worked hard. Cedric was a useful addition.
"We tested the new alert badges too," he added, glancing at Kevin. "The communication range seems solid."
"It should be. I've been working on the blood-bond anchor with Dumbledore." Kevin paused. "Which is also why Ron's finger is still slightly oversized."
Ron raised his hand in the way of someone demonstrating a grievance. The slice had sealed within minutes, thanks to the powder Kevin had provided, but the tip was still slightly swollen. "Your badges have extremely ungenerous onboarding requirements."
"Blood claim is tamper-proof," Kevin said, without sympathy. "It's the point."
"I bled onto the floor, Kevin."
"The floor doesn't receive emergency signals."
Ron pointed at him.
Kevin ate lunch.
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