The Hufflepuff common room embraced its occupants like a warm blanket on a winter evening. Chris sat in his favourite armchair near one of the copper warming pans that kept the underground room pleasantly cosy. Across from him, Susan frowned at her Arithmancy homework while Hannah scribbled furiously, her quill occasionally splattering drops of the purple colour-changing ink she'd insisted on buying for note-taking.
"This equation doesn't make sense," Susan muttered, tapping her parchment with the feathered end of her quill. "How can the coefficient be negative when we're calculating illumination intensity?"
Chris glanced up from his own completed assignment. "Because you're using the wrong formula. For light-based spells, you need the Luminary Equation, not the Standard Transformation."
Susan's eyes widened as realization dawned. "Of course! I was using the formula from page forty-three instead of sixty-three." She flipped pages hurriedly, relief spreading across her features. "Thanks, Chris."
Hannah paused in her writing, her quill hovering above the parchment as the ink at its tip shifted from purple to blue. "You know, it's unfair how quickly you grasp these concepts. Professor Vector explained that equation once, and you've already mastered it."
Chris offered a modest shrug, though inwardly he acknowledged the truth in Hannah's words. With his adult mind, Occlumency and past-life knowledge, third-year concepts came to him with frustrating ease. His real challenge was appearing to learn at a normal, or slightly accelerated pace.
He watched his friends work for a few moments longer, considering the plan he'd been developing since his discovery about Astoria's blood malediction. The first step was clear: get closer to Daphne Greengrass, which would eventually create opportunities to interact with her younger sister. But approaching a Slytherin directly without context would raise suspicions. He needed a framework that would make such a connection natural.
"I've been thinking," Chris said casually, setting aside his completed homework. "We're all taking the same electives, and we're handling the extra workload well enough, but it's going to get more challenging as the term progresses."
Susan looked up, grateful for the distraction from her troublesome equations. "That's true. Professor Vector hinted that we've barely scratched the surface of Arithmancy."
"What if we formed a proper study group?" Chris suggested, leaning forward slightly. "Not just the three of us, but including some of the top students from other houses too."
Hannah's eyes lit up immediately. "That's brilliant! Who were you thinking of?"
"Well," Chris said, as if the idea were just occurring to him rather than something he has already carefully considered, "logically, we'd want the students with the strongest academic records. Hermione Granger from Gryffindor, obviously. She outscores everyone in most subjects."
"Hermione would be perfect," Susan agreed. "She's intense about studying, but in a good way. And she was helpful when we worked together on that Transfiguration project last year."
Hannah nodded enthusiastically. "Plus, she's taking even more electives than we are. I heard she's in every optional class Hogwarts offers, though I can't imagine how she manages the schedule."
Chris filed that information away, Hermione must already be using the Time-Turner, but kept his expression neutral. "And from Ravenclaw, well, they have several strong candidates, but most of them prefer to study alone or within their house."
"True," Hannah said. "I tried to partner with Lisa Turpin once for Herbology, and she seemed almost offended that I might have insights a Ravenclaw hadn't considered."
"What about Slytherin?" Susan asked, her tone carefully neutral.
Chris had been waiting for this opening. "Actually, I was thinking of Daphne Greengrass. She's consistently among the top five in our year, particularly strong in Ancient Runes and Potions."
He watched as both girls exchanged a glance, clearly hesitant about the suggestion.
"Greengrass..." Hannah said slowly. "She's not like Malfoy or his crowd, at least. I don't think I've ever heard her say anything nasty about other houses."
"She keeps to herself mostly," Susan added. "But a Slytherin in our study group? Would she even want to join?"
Chris had anticipated their reluctance. "That's what makes this idea academically smart and socially strategic," he explained. "We'd be bringing together the top students regardless of house affiliation. It shows we're serious about excellence and willing to look beyond house rivalries."
"You sound like you're building political alliances," Susan observed with a small smile.
Chris returned the smile, acknowledging her perception. "In a way, we are. Think about it: your aunt is Head of the DMLE, the Greengrasses are a respected neutral family with significant business interests, Hermione is brilliant and ambitious... connections formed now could be valuable later."
Hannah's eyes widened. "I never thought about studying as networking."
"It doesn't have to be calculating," Chris clarified, softening his approach. "Mainly, it's about learning from the best in each subject. Daphne's Potions notes are probably impeccable, given how Snape favours his house. Hermione's research skills are unmatched. Between all of us, we cover every subject's strengths."
Susan nodded slowly, warming to the idea. "And it would be nice to make some new friends outside Hufflepuff. We tend to stay in our bubble sometimes."
"Exactly," Chris agreed. "Plus, imagine how impressed the professors will be when they see students from different houses collaborating. It sets us apart."
Hannah was already bouncing slightly in her seat, excitement building. "We could meet in one of the unused classrooms on the third floor. They're bigger than the library study rooms, so we'd have space to practice spells too."
"We'd need a consistent schedule," Susan said, practical as always. "Maybe twice a week? And we should establish some ground rules."
Chris smiled inwardly as his friends embraced the idea, building on it with their own suggestions. "I was thinking four times a week actually," he proposed. "Two weekday evenings and both weekend afternoons. That gives us enough time to cover all our subjects properly."
"Four sessions!" Hannah exclaimed. "That's serious commitment."
"Excellence requires dedication," Chris replied simply. "But if everyone contributes, the benefits will be worth it."
Susan was nodding now, fully convinced. "I'm in. And I think Hermione will jump at the chance. But how do we approach Greengrass? It's not like we regularly speak with her."
"Leave that to me," Chris said. "We have Ancient Runes together. I'll find an opportunity to extend the invitation."
As they continued planning logistics, meeting times, subject rotations, materials they'd need, Chris felt a quiet satisfaction. Step one of his long-term plan to help Astoria was now in motion. Through Daphne, he would eventually create natural opportunities to interact with her younger sister. The study group provided the perfect cover: academic, respectable, and above suspicion.
"This is going to be brilliant," Hannah declared, now scribbling a color-coded schedule with her special ink. "Just wait, by the end of the year, we'll all be top of our classes."
...
The Great Hall hummed with midday energy, a stark contrast to the formal dinners and sleepy breakfasts that bookended each day at Hogwarts. Students flowed between tables despite the theoretical house divisions, comparing class notes, trading desserts, and filling the high-ceilinged room with the particular brand of chaos that accompanied hundreds of magical teenagers with full stomachs and half-finished homework. Chris paused at the entrance, his eyes scanning the Gryffindor table until he found his target, Hermione Granger, predictably absorbed in a book propped against a water pitcher, her fork finding her mouth with mechanical precision while her eyes never left the page.
Perfect. Harry and Ron were engaged in an animated discussion with several other boys, leaving Hermione in her own world of text and marginalia. Chris made his way through the crowded hall, nodding to classmates as he passed. A few students glanced up curiously as he approached the Gryffindor table rather than his usual spot with the Hufflepuffs.
Hermione didn't notice his arrival until his shadow fell across her book. She looked up, blinking as if emerging from deep water, her expression shifting from mild annoyance at the interruption to surprise.
"Chris? Hello," she said, hastily marking her place in the massive tome, Advanced Arithmancy: Theoretical Applications for Practical Spellwork, he noted with approval.
"Sorry to interrupt your reading," he said with a smile. "Mind if I join you for a moment?"
"Oh! Of course not." She quickly shifted her books to make space on the bench beside her. Several nearby Gryffindors glanced their way, not accustomed to seeing yellow and black among their red and gold territory.
"That's the supplementary text Professor Vector mentioned, isn't it?" Chris asked, nodding toward her book as he sat down. "I've been meaning to look at it myself."
Hermione's face brightened immediately at the academic reference. "Yes, it's fascinating! The author takes a completely different approach to magical coefficients than our assigned textbook. I've been comparing methodologies and..." She stopped herself, a slight flush rising to her cheeks. "Sorry, I tend to go on about these things."
"No need to apologize," Chris assured her. "That's actually why I wanted to talk to you."
He explained the study group concept, watching as Hermione's expression grew increasingly interested. "We're bringing together the top students from our year, focusing on mastering the curriculum more deeply than class time allows. Susan and Hannah are already on board."
"That sounds wonderful," Hermione said, her voice lifting with genuine enthusiasm. "I've been trying to create a study schedule for myself, but with all my classes this year..." She hesitated, as if catching herself before revealing too much about her Time-Turner. "Well, it's quite a challenge to fit everything in."
"I can imagine," Chris replied, pretending not to notice her slip. "We thought four sessions a week would give us enough coverage, Monday and Wednesday evenings, plus Saturday and Sunday afternoons. Each meeting would focus on different subjects, with everyone contributing their strengths."
Hermione was already reaching for her bag, pulling out a meticulous planner with color-coded tabs. "Four sessions is perfect. I have... commitments on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, but the schedule you're proposing works well." She flipped through her calendar, nodding to herself. "Which unused classroom were you thinking of using? Some have better lighting for detailed work."
Chris couldn't help but smile at her thoroughness. "We were considering the one on the third floor, near the statue of the one-eyed witch. It's spacious enough for practical spell work."
"With the south-facing windows? That's ideal." Hermione made a note in her planner. "What about reference materials? I have several supplementary texts we could use, and access to some restricted section books with Professor McGonagall's permission."
"That would be excellent," Chris said. "We each bring different resources to the table. Hannah's particularly good with Herbology applications, and Susan has insights from her aunt about practical magical law enforcement techniques."
Hermione nodded approvingly, then hesitated. "You said the top students from our year, who else are you inviting?"
"Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin," Chris answered directly, watching for her reaction. "She excels in Potions and Ancient Runes."
As expected, Hermione's enthusiasm dimmed slightly. Not from house prejudice, Chris knew she was too logical for that, but from uncertainty about working with someone outside her comfort zone.
"Greengrass," she said thoughtfully. "She's quite reserved, isn't she? I don't think we've ever spoken directly."
"She keeps to herself," Chris confirmed. "But academically, she's consistently in the top five of our year. And unlike some in her house, she doesn't engage in the pureblood supremacy rhetoric."
Hermione considered this, tapping her quill against her planner. "A proper inter-house study group would be unprecedented, at least in recent Hogwarts history. From an academic perspective, it makes perfect sense to learn from those with different strengths." She straightened her shoulders, decision made. "Yes, I'd like to join. When is the first meeting?"
"Tomorrow evening at seven," Chris replied. "We'll start with the homework assignments from this week, then move into some advanced practice."
"I'll be there," she said firmly, already making another note in her planner. "Should I bring anything specific? I have excellent notes on the Arithmancy theorems Professor Vector mentioned yesterday, and I've been researching the historical context of the runic translations we're working on."
"Both would be useful," Chris said. "The idea is for everyone to contribute their particular expertise."
A sudden burst of laughter from further down the table drew their attention. Harry and Ron were now involved in what appeared to be an impromptu food-stacking competition with the Weasley twins, their earlier conversation forgotten.
Hermione followed his gaze and sighed. "This is why a serious study group appeals to me. I love Harry and Ron, but their academic priorities are... flexible."
"They're not invited?" Chris asked, though he already knew the answer.
She gave him a look of amused exasperation. "Would you invite them to an intensive study group meeting four times a week?"
Chris chuckled. "Fair point. Though they're welcome if they ever develop the interest."
"I'll let them know," she said diplomatically, though her tone suggested she considered this about as likely as Snape awarding points to Gryffindor. "Thank you for thinking of me, Chris. This is exactly what I've been hoping for, a group that takes academics as seriously as I do."
As Chris stood to leave, Hermione was already returning to her book, but with a new purpose in her movements, as if the prospect of the study group had energized her. He made his way back toward the Hufflepuff table, pleased with how easily this piece of his plan had fallen into place. Two down, one to go, and the most challenging invitation was yet to come.
...
The Ancient Runes classroom emptied slowly as Professor Babbling's third-years gathered their materials. The air still shimmered faintly with the magical residue of activated runic sequences, and the blackboard bore the complex chalk patterns they'd been analysing all hour. Chris methodically arranged his notes, watching from the corner of his eye as Daphne Greengrass organised her own materials with precise movements. Unlike many of her Slytherin peers who travelled in packs, Daphne typically moved through Hogwarts alone, her self-contained confidence making her seem unapproachable. Today, that solitary habit would work to his advantage.
He timed his movements carefully, ensuring they would exit the classroom simultaneously. Professor Babbling had already retreated to her office, leaving the students to filter out into the corridor at their own pace. Most were hurrying toward the Great Hall for dinner, creating a perfect window of relative privacy.
"Greengrass," Chris called quietly as they stepped into the stone hallway. "Could I have a word?"
Daphne turned, her expression betraying only the slightest hint of surprise. Her blue eyes assessed him coolly, neither friendly nor hostile, merely calculating. "Emrys," she acknowledged with a slight nod. "What about?"
"A proposition that might interest you," he replied, matching her businesslike tone. "Do you have a moment?"
Her eyebrow arched fractionally. "I suppose." She stepped to the side of the corridor, allowing other students to pass while maintaining enough distance to keep their conversation private. "What sort of proposition?"
Chris noted how she positioned herself with her back to the wall, giving her clear sightlines in both directions. A typically Slytherin precaution that spoke volumes about her upbringing.
"I'm forming a select study group," he explained, "comprised of the top academic performers in our year. We'll be meeting four times weekly to pursue more advanced material than what's covered in standard classes."
"And you're inviting me?" Her tone remained neutral, but her eyes sharpened with interest. "Who else is involved in this... select group?"
"Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff, Hermione Granger from Gryffindor, and myself," Chris answered. "Each brings particular strengths to the table. Susan excels in DADA and has unique insights through her aunt at the Ministry. Hannah's Herbology work is exceptional. Granger's academic record speaks for itself."
"Quite the assortment," Daphne observed, a hint of dry amusement coloring her words. "Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and a lone Slytherin. No Ravenclaws?"
"They prefer their own methods," Chris said with a slight shrug. "This isn't about house affiliations. It's about assembling the most capable minds in our year, regardless of color ties."
Daphne studied him for a long moment. "Why me specifically? Slytherin has other strong students."
"Your work in Ancient Runes is consistently excellent," Chris replied, nodding toward the classroom they'd just left. "You're one of the few who grasped the conceptual framework of layered rune sequences immediately. And Professor Snape has mentioned your potion-brewing precision."
A flash of satisfaction crossed her features before she controlled it. "Flattery, Emrys?"
"Sometimes the truth can be flattering," he said. "I notice talent where it exists."
She adjusted the strap of her bag, considering him with renewed interest. "What's your actual motivation here? Hufflepuffs typically stick to their own kind, and you've never struck me as someone who seeks out social connections without purpose."
Chris allowed himself a small smile, appreciating her directness. "Let's call it forward thinking. Hogwarts houses create artificial divisions that won't exist once we enter the wider wizarding world. Building relationships across those boundaries now strikes me as both academically beneficial and practically advantageous."
"Networking, then," she said, the word carrying no negative connotation in her voice. If anything, she seemed to approve of the strategic thinking. "I didn't expect such Slytherin reasoning from a Hufflepuff."
"The Sorting Hat considered multiple houses for many of us," Chris replied, neither confirming nor denying whether this applied to him personally. "And ambition isn't exclusive to Slytherin, merely expressed differently."
Daphne's posture relaxed marginally, a subtle tell that she was warming to the idea. "Susan Bones," she mused aloud. "Her aunt is Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, isn't she? A potentially useful connection."
"Amelia Bones is highly regarded in the Ministry," Chris confirmed. "Susan doesn't flaunt the relationship, but she's quite knowledgeable about magical law enforcement practices."
Something shifted in Daphne's expression, a calculation completed, a decision reached. "And these meetings would be four times weekly? That's a significant time commitment."
"Monday and Wednesday evenings, Saturday and Sunday afternoons," Chris specified. "In the unused classroom on the third floor with the south-facing windows. We're starting tomorrow evening at seven."
"My sister just started at Hogwarts," Daphne said, the apparent non sequitur catching Chris's attention immediately. "She was sorted into Slytherin, though I suspected she might end up elsewhere. She's... different from me. More open."
Chris maintained a casual expression despite his heightened interest. "I believe we met her briefly on the train. Enthusiastic, as I recall."
Daphne's lips quirked slightly. "That's one way to describe Astoria. She asks a thousand questions and expects answers to all of them. Exhausting, but endearing."
"Younger siblings often are," Chris replied smoothly, though he'd never had one in either life. "I imagine she'll find her footing in Slytherin quickly with you there to guide her."
"Perhaps," Daphne said, her gaze turning distant for a moment before refocusing sharply on Chris. "Very well, Emrys. I accept your invitation, provisionally. I'll attend tomorrow's session to evaluate whether the group meets my standards."
"Fair enough," Chris agreed, offering his hand. "We can all assess whether the arrangement is mutually beneficial."
Daphne regarded his extended hand with brief surprise before accepting it. Her grip was firm and businesslike, the handshake lasting precisely the appropriate length of time before she withdrew.
"Tomorrow at seven, then," she said with a nod. "Don't waste my time, Emrys."
With that parting remark, she turned and continued down the corridor, her posture perfectly straight, her pace unhurried despite the dinner hour approaching. Chris watched her go, satisfaction settling over him like a well-cast charm. The final piece was in place.
The study group would provide regular, legitimate contact with Daphne, which would eventually create natural opportunities to interact with Astoria. It might take months to build enough trust, but Chris was nothing if not patient. A girl's life hung in the balance, after all, even if she herself didn't yet know it.
He started toward the Great Hall, mentally checking off this step in his long-term plan. Susan and Hannah were on board. Hermione was enthusiastic. And now, most critically, Daphne Greengrass had accepted his invitation. Tomorrow would bring the first test: whether these disparate personalities could actually work together effectively.
But that was a challenge for future Chris. For now, he had accomplished exactly what he'd set out to do.
...
The unused classroom on the third floor had shed its abandoned air, transformed by purpose into something almost welcoming. Chris had arrived early to prepare the space, pushing the dusty desks into a circular arrangement rather than the traditional rows. Five chairs waited equidistant around this improvised round table, a deliberate choice to avoid any impression of hierarchy. He'd cleaned the blackboard with a quick Scourgify and opened the tall windows to allow fresh air to replace the musty scent of disuse. Sunlight streamed through the glass, illuminating dancing dust motes and warming the stone floor. Now he waited, watching the door as the clock ticked closer to seven.
Susan and Hannah arrived first, carrying stacks of books and rolls of parchment. They'd clearly taken this seriously, bringing not just assigned texts but supplementary materials as well.
"This looks perfect," Susan said, surveying the room. "Good thinking with the circular arrangement."
Hannah immediately claimed a seat, spreading her color-coded notes in a fan pattern. "I brought my diagrams for the Shrinking Solution. Professor Snape said mine were 'marginally less disastrous than usual,' which from him is practically effusive praise."
Hermione arrived next, her book bag visibly straining at the seams. She hesitated briefly in the doorway, then entered with determination, greeting everyone with slightly nervous enthusiasm.
"I hope I'm not late," she said, checking her watch. "I was in the library and lost track of time researching counter-clockwise stirring techniques for volatile ingredients."
"You're right on time," Chris assured her. "We're just getting settled."
Daphne was the last to arrive, precisely at seven o'clock. She entered with measured steps, her expression neutral as she assessed the room and its occupants. Unlike the others who had brought numerous books, she carried only a slim portfolio and a single textbook.
"Greengrass," Susan acknowledged with a polite nod.
"Bones," Daphne returned equally formally, before nodding to the others. "Abbott. Granger." Her gaze settled on Chris last. "Emrys. I see you've been busy."
An awkward silence fell as Daphne took the remaining seat. The four girls exchanged guarded glances, house loyalties momentarily creating invisible barriers despite their physical proximity. Chris had anticipated this initial tension and moved smoothly to dispel it.
"I thought we might start with this week's homework assignments," he suggested, keeping his tone casual. "We can each work on our own tasks but consult each other when helpful. Once that's finished, we can practice the Bird-to-Goblet Transfiguration that Professor McGonagall introduced yesterday."
The practical suggestion broke the tension. Hermione immediately pulled out her half-completed Arithmancy homework, while Hannah spread her Herbology diagrams wider. Susan began reviewing her Charms essay, and Daphne opened her portfolio to reveal immaculate notes on Ancient Runes.
Chris observed their working styles with interest. Hermione wrote with intense concentration, referencing multiple books simultaneously, occasionally muttering formulas under her breath. Hannah's approach was more visual, her notes exploding with colors and illustrations that somehow organized information in ways that made sense to her. Susan worked methodically, writing complete sentences in her first draft rather than rushing to get ideas down. Daphne's process was the most economical, her handwriting precise, her references minimal but clearly thoroughly internalized.
For thirty minutes, they worked in companionable focus, the initial awkwardness dissolving in the shared purpose of academic pursuit. Occasional questions floated across the table, Hannah asking Hermione about Arithmancy notation, Susan consulting Daphne on a point of runic translation. Each exchange eased the atmosphere further.
"I think I've finished everything except Transfiguration," Susan announced eventually, setting aside her completed Charms essay.
"Same," Hannah agreed. "That Bird-to-Goblet spell is giving me trouble."
Hermione looked up from her work. "The theory makes perfect sense, but my execution is inconsistent. Sometimes I get a perfect goblet, other times it still has feathers."
"Or a beak for a stem," Hannah added with a grimace. "Mine chirped during class yesterday."
"McGonagall mentioned that Animate to Inanimate Transfigurations require particularly precise visualization," Chris said, putting away his own completed work. "Shall we practice?"
They cleared the table and Chris produced a cage of small songbirds he'd borrowed from the Transfiguration department earlier. "McGonagall was pleased to hear we were forming a study group," he explained. "She provided these for our practice."
Each student selected a bird and placed it before them. Daphne, who had remained relatively quiet during their homework session, raised her wand with cool confidence. Her spell produced a goblet with clean lines, though the silver surface retained a faint pattern reminiscent of feathers.
"Almost perfect," Chris observed. "Your visualization is strong, but you're concentrating more on form than substance."
Daphne raised an eyebrow, clearly unused to having her spellwork critiqued. "Explain."
"You're picturing how the goblet should look, but not what it fundamentally is," Chris clarified. "Try focusing on the essential nature of glass and metal, the solid permanence that differentiates it from living tissue."
Susan attempted the spell next, producing a goblet that was properly formed but wobbled as if remembering it once had legs. Hannah's attempt resulted in a goblet-shaped object that retained colorful plumage instead of metallic sheen. Hermione's was nearly perfect in appearance but emitted a soft trilling sound when tapped.
Chris observed each attempt carefully, then pulled his chair closer to the table. "I noticed something similar in all your approaches. You're each visualizing different aspects correctly, but missing others."
He turned to Hannah first. "You're maintaining too much connection to the bird's appearance. Try closing your eyes before casting, and picture the goblet as if you've never seen the bird at all."
To Susan, he suggested: "Your wand movement is hesitating at the final turn. The transformation needs to be committed to completely, any uncertainty translates into the object."
For Hermione: "You're overthinking the process. Your visualization is perfect, but your mind is still cataloging all the sub-steps of transformation. Try experiencing the spell as a single, unified action rather than a sequence."
Finally, to Daphne: "Your technique is excellent, but there's a slight reservation in your intent. The feather pattern remains because some part of you is holding back from fully transforming a living creature."
Each girl considered his observations, surprised by the specificity of his insights. Daphne gave him a measuring look. "You seem remarkably attuned to the nuances of spellcasting, Emrys."
"I find it fascinating how the same spell manifests differently depending on the caster," he replied simply. "Shall we try again?"
They each returned to their birds, applying Chris's suggestions. Hannah closed her eyes before casting, her face screwed up in concentration. When she opened them, a perfectly smooth goblet stood before her, the blue tint of the glass the only remnant of the bird's former plumage.
"It worked!" she exclaimed, picking up the goblet and examining it from all angles. "No feathers at all!"
Susan adjusted her wand grip and executed the spell with newfound confidence. Her goblet stood rock-steady on the table, its transformation complete. Hermione took a deep breath, cast the spell as a single fluid motion, and produced a goblet that remained perfectly silent when she tested it with a gentle tap.
Daphne was the last to try again. She paused, seeming to center herself, then cast with unwavering commitment. Her goblet emerged flawless, the silver surface catching the light without a hint of its avian origin.
"Well done," Chris said, genuine approval in his voice. "All perfect transformations."
"That was incredibly helpful," Hermione said, examining everyone's successful goblets. "I've been struggling with that spell for days."
"McGonagall will be impressed," Susan agreed. "I've never gotten it completely right before."
Even Daphne nodded in acknowledgment. "Your observations were... astute," she said to Chris, the closest she would come to outright praise.
As they practiced the reverse transformation, returning the goblets to birds, the atmosphere in the room had transformed as well. The initial reserve had given way to focused collaboration. Hermione and Daphne were discussing the theoretical principles behind the spell, finding common ground in their academic rigor despite their different houses. Hannah was showing Susan a visualization technique she'd developed, their heads bent together over a sketch.
When the clock tower chimed eight-thirty, signaling the end of their planned session, there was a collective sense of surprise at how quickly the time had passed.
"Same time Monday?" Hermione asked, already noting it in her planner.
"Definitely," Hannah agreed. "This was brilliant."
Susan nodded, gathering her materials. "We accomplished more in one session than I usually do in an entire week of studying alone."
All eyes turned to Daphne, whose "provisional" acceptance had been a question mark hanging over the group's future. She closed her portfolio with deliberate movements before speaking.
"The arrangement appears to have merit," she said coolly, though Chris caught the hint of satisfaction in her eyes. "I'll continue to attend."
As they filed out of the classroom, Chris remained behind to restore the room to its original state. The session had exceeded even his expectations. Not only had everyone improved their spellwork, but the social dynamics had evolved naturally from awkward tolerance to genuine cooperation.
Perhaps this year would indeed offer more ordinary pleasures alongside his extraordinary pursuits. For now, at least, this first step had been an unqualified success.