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HP478- Hogwarts Accepts Duelling Club
🕑 Added 2025-08-01 14:20:09 +0000 UTCA year later, Harry stood in the middle of the Duelling Club. The final exams had wrapped up three days ago. He passed all of them, NEWTs in every subject, straight Marvelous across the board. Not that he doubted it. He seen the scores before they were even posted.
All the school was there, including most of the staff, packed into the Duelling Club’s repurposed hall. Chairs lined the sides, students filled every space in between. Even the professors had turned out, Flitwick perched on a cushion charmed to his height near the front, McGonagall standing straight-backed by the side with Sprout, arms crossed, face giving nothing away. Hagrid, halfway into a seat meant for two, had already knocked over a tray of lemon biscuits someone left near the back.
Harry stepped up onto the raised platform. The lights adjusted on their own. He looked out over them all, his friends, lower years, some of the seventh-years who were packing up for the last time. Astoria stood just to the side.
“Well,” Harry said with a faint smile, “it is a bit posh to give a speech like this, but I suppose someone got to do it.”
A few chuckles went around the room. He could see Daphne roll her eyes, Tracey mouthing something that looked suspiciously like “you prat,” and Blaise nudging Draco with a smirk.
“Right. Anyway, Duelling Club. When we started this, it wasn’t exactly a grand plan. Just something to keep us sharper. A bit of healthy competition. Somewhere you could hex your mate and still share a table at dinner.”
That got a few nods.
“But it is more than that now. First-years walk in casting Shield Charms stronger than some sixth-years used to. Spell recall is faster. People actually know how to dodge."
He sighed, shaking his head slightly. “When people talk about legacy, they usually mean a name. Something grand. Something that sticks. I seen it loads of times, people chasing a story they think will outlive them.”
He looked over the crowd again, catching a few familiar smirks and raised brows.
“Maybe that is human nature, wanting to be remembered. Wanting to leave something behind. But I’ always thought legacy means something else. It is not a statue or a name in a book. It is what people actually use. What they pick up and keep running with.”
His eyes flicked over to the front row where Neville was pretending not to nod. Ginny elbowed him, and he straightened up quickly.
“This club, when we started, it was just drills and bruises. Bit of shouting, lot of ducking. But we made something useful. You lot turned this into more than that. Now half of you can duel blindfolded if you really had to.”
That got a small laugh from a corner near the back, one of the younger Ravenclaws waved a blindfold from her pocket and was quickly shushed.
“So if there is a legacy, that’s it. Not my name on a plaque. Not a dramatic speech. It is the fact that now, if something kicks off, most of you won’t freeze. You will move.”
A few heads nodded, more serious now.
“And since to me, legacy isn’t a name,” Harry added, “but this, something you lot built, shaped, fought in, I want it to continue. Passed on for years to come, not kept. Handed to the most fitting, every time.”
As he spoke, the floor trembled faintly beneath their feet.
A few students sat up straighter. Then the walls of the Duelling Room began to shift, quiet at first, then unmistakable. Carved stone lines rippled like waves, the torch sconces pulled back into the walls, and arches stretched taller, smoother, the edges refining with every second. The flooring smoothed out into polished obsidian, speckled faintly with lines of silver rune inlay, circling the raised platform like old battle wards waking up.
McGonagall, near the back, looked around. Her arms uncrossed.
“Harry...” she said under her breath.
Flitwick’s brows dropped into a deep furrow as he leaned forward on his cushion. “Those aren’t just enchantments. That is castle corework.”
Sprout didn’t speak, but her eyes were fixed on the shifting ceiling, where a silver emblem was forming, two crossed duelling wands, surrounded by a ring of ivy and flame.
And then the doors banged open.
Dumbledore entered first, Snape followed, half a step behind.
They didn’t speak, just scanned the room.
Harry ignored them. He reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a small badge, a sharp silver piece in the shape of two wands crossed over a shield. He turned in his hand, then held it up.
“This,” he said plainly, “isn’t just a trinket. It is keyed. Hogwarts knows it now.”
There was a flicker, a pulse of magic that ran through the badge. Some of the younger students flinched. Older ones leaned in.
“The Duelling Club is now tied into the castle herself. Not just some extracurricular in a dusty room anymore. It is part of Hogwarts. You want to shut it down, you will have to carve it out of the foundation.”
McGonagall let out a sigh through her nose. Dumbledore folded his hands behind his back.
Harry tapped the badge, and it floated from his palm. He turned to Astoria, who stepped up beside him.
“She is the next lead,” Harry said. “Not because she is my friend. Not because she is from my House. But because she is the best for the job. Ask anyone who has been here more than a year.”
Astoria stepped up beside Harry and gave the crowd a wide grin.
“I am now the main tort- proctor of the Duelling Club,” she announced cheerfully, hands clasped behind her back, “so if you thought the last lot of training was rough, wait till you see my revision schedules. You all had it far too easy.”
A few groans rang out, blending with scattered laughter.
Harry shook his head. “Anyway. She is in charge now. Which means if you got complaints, send them to her. I am off the hook.”
The platform eased back into the floor. Chairs rearranged themselves. The club room dimmed slightly, slipping into a calmer mood now that the formal bit was over.
As the rest of the club members filtered out, some chatting about summer plans, others still joking about Astoria’s new "training regime of doom," Harry stayed behind with his usual lot. They stood near the edge of the platform, most still half-relaxed, plates of half-finished biscuits and mugs of tea in hand.
Dumbledore stood across from them, hands folded behind his back. Professor McGonagall and Snape flanked him. Both looked as if they would rather be elsewhere, though for very different reasons.
Dumbledore’s eyes went to the silver badge pinned to Astoria’s robe. His voice, when he spoke, was calm but carried weight. “Harry, did you change Hogwarts’s core ward? As Headmaster, the sole authority is in my hands. I would’ve preferred to be informed.”
Harry met his gaze, with a soft smile. “In Hogwarts, no one assigns authority but the school herself, Headmaster. If it worked, that means the castle didn’t disagree.”
McGonagall’s lips thinned. Snape gave Harry a flat look but said nothing.
“That may be,” Dumbledore said, eyes still on Harry, “but modifying the castle’s foundation magic isn’t something to be done without careful consideration.”
Harry shrugged. “We didn’t modify anything. We gave it shape. The castle chose to anchor it.”
Behind him, Daphne nodded. “It is not like it is the first time Hogwarts reacted to students. Founders did it."
Dumbledore gave a slight sigh, adjusting his spectacles. “Nevertheless, this is unusual. Tying a student-run club into the castle’s core functions-”
“It is not just a student club anymore,” Harry cut in. “Not when half the school learned more defence here than in formal classes. Not when it is the only reason most of them could stand their ground last year when Voldemort attacked.”
Dumbledore watched him for a second longer, then nodded slowly. “Very well. If the castle recognises it, then I won’t contest it further.”
“Good,” Harry said. “Because it wasn’t up for a vote.”
The corner of Dumbledore’s mouth twitched. Whether it was amusement or something else, Harry couldn’t tell, and didn’t care much either.
