Harry Potter and the Surprisingly Competent History of Magic Professor Chapter 205 205: Shield

In the next Club eting, Cassian gathered the entire student body, including Draco Malfoy, into the Duelling Club with the energy of soone about to ruin everyone's titable.

"Change of plans," he said, walking to the centre. "Postpone individual training till second term. For the next few weeks, we're doing sothing else."

Students craned their necks, shifting on their benches. Cassian's classes weren't just popular, they were warzones of excitent and terror, often at the sa ti. The new Duelling Club had given them a more focused approach, but that ca at the cost of actual ti with Cassian. So the announcent brought a buzz, whatever he had in mind, it was clearly bigger than the usual "who can hex a dummy fastest" routine.

Cassian flicked his wand. Instructions burst into the air above them.

ntal Resistance Training

Application Focus: Shielding against magical coercion

Target: Foundational Willpower Fortification

thod: Spell-anchor exercises, construction, thought-loop interference

No, not Occluncy.

Yes, this will hurt your heads.

No, you can't drop out.

A few groans. One delighted cackle from a Ravenclaw in the back.

"The mind's part of your defence. You lot spend all your ti flinging hexes at each other, but none of you have the focus of a stunned flobberworm. That changes now."

After his chat with Dumbledore, he'd combed through half the library, and then so private shelves, before he finally dug up a set of ntal resistance thods that didn't start with "Step One: Already Be a Trained Legilins, Harness Your Inner Shield" by so New Age lunatic.

Eventually, tucked behind a crumbling spine in so forgotten tos, he found sothing that didn't insult his intelligence. It didn't promise miracles, just structure, rhythm-based recall, verbal anchors, resistance drills. Actual, practical ways to make your brain slam the door when soone knocked too hard.

He managed to get Dumbledore to back down before. But the conversation had left Cassian with a sour taste. Because no matter how thoroughly he made the case, no matter how pointed he got, there were still people out there ready to do worse. People who didn't ask permission. Who didn't stop at "practice."

They were already looking at this school like it was a ripe orchard. Sooner or later, soone would co for the students, whether to bend their minds, break them, or worse. And if any of them were already softened up, made compliant through Moody's brilliant idea of exposure therapy, they wouldn't stand a chance.

Cassian pulled a worn canvas bag from under the desk and dropped it onto the floor. The contents rattled faintly. He crouched, rifled through it, then stood, holding a stack of candles like he was about to summon sothing illegal.

"One for each of you," he said, tossing them down the rows. "Catch or don't, but if you drop it, I'm not replacing it."

A few scrambled hands, one yelp, and a Slytherin girl narrowly avoided a black eye.

"These aren't your standard hallway shrines. Your delightful Rune professor and I spent the better part of two days charming these into sothing useful."

He flicked his wand at his own candle. The wick lit with a soft pop, steady and golden.

"They'll go out the second you lose focus. And I don't an stare-at-it-until-your-eyes-water focus."

He stepped back, letting the candle hover midair. "Focus, in this case, ans anchoring your awareness to sothing else. A word. A concept. Doesn't have to be clever. Doesn't have to be poetic. It just has to be yours."

He scanned the group. "The purpose is to give your consciousness sothing to latch onto. A constant. Sothing to help keep you, well, you, when soone else tries to muscle their way in.

"Think of it like this. Your brain is a cottage. Nice windows, maybe so bookshelves. No insulation, but we make do. When a spell hits that tries to twist your thinking, it's like a draught sneaking in. If all your windows are open, you're getting blown to bits. But if you've got sothing solid to hold onto, it's like slamming the shutters shut."

He paused. "Or, if you're Longbottom, throwing a plant at the intruder. Still counts."

A few chuckled. Neville gave a sheepish smile without looking up from his candle.

"These anchors don't need to be dramatic," Cassian went on. "If you pick sothing like 'justice' or 'truth', I will personally hex you into next week. You better not pick an abstract philosophy. Think solid and grounded."

He pointed to the air above them. "You'll practise holding the thought while staring at the fla. If it goes out, you're wobbling. If it explodes, congrats, you're probably a Finnigan."

He turned back to the floating candle, tapped it again. The light blinked out.

"Word to the wise, this isn't about brute force. You can't scream your way through this. It's a quiet kind of strength. Patience. Clarity. Like pulling a splinter from your own head.

"Fair warning," he added after a second, "these candles are the easy bit. They're loaded with assistance runes. Baby brooms if you will. The further we go, the rougher it gets. So if you're thinking of picking sothing floaty now, don't."

A few students sat up straighter.

Cassian gestured the candles. "You'll want an anchor that's solid. Familiar. Sothing that won't crack the mont you're tired, panicked, or staring down a mind-bending curse. The more grounded it is, the better it'll hold."

He paced once down the line, weaving between benches.

"Advanced ntal shielding, Occluncy and the like, usually lean on a structure. mory architecture. Places you know down to the last creaky floorboard. But if that place is, say, the Great Hall or the bloody Hogwarts library, guess what? Every half-competent Legilins can map those too. They've been there."

He stopped near the Slytherin row. "You give an intruder a familiar layout, they'll walk right in, kick their feet up, and start rifling through your drawers. So don't."

There was a pause.

"But don't get clever either. If you've never been to the mountains, don't build a ntal chalet. If you've never t a wolf, don't summon one to guard your bloody vault.

"Start simple. Start true. Pick sothing real. A sound. A sll. A room you know better than you know your own face. Stick to it. If you pick red now, and your mindscape turns blue later, it's going to pull you in two. Your magic won't know what to hold onto."

He looked up at them again. "Got it?"

A few hesitantly nodded.

"Good. You've got half an hour to find your anchor. morise it. Feel it. Keep it close."

He let that hang for a mont, then clapped his hands.

"Right. Light them. Hold the thought. And no whining if it fizzles out. It just ans you're distracted."

Cassian dropped into the front row bench. Across the rows, students stared at their flickering flas, so closing their eyes. A few muttered to themselves. One Hufflepuff looked like he was trying to glare his candle into submission. Cassian didn't interrupt. Thirty minutes of silence was practically a holiday.

Once most of them had opened their eyes and blinked the fog off their brains, Cassian flicked his wand upward. An illusion shimred into being above his head, grey at first, no clear shape, shifting like steam trying to decide what to be.

"I'll show you how the training looks once it's underway. This isn't my actual mory palace, by the way. Don't get clever. I'm not handing you blueprints to break in later."

The grey started swirling tighter, still featureless.

"Lovegood. Give a word."

Luna blinked, staring at the grey, her eyes glassy. "Lambent."

Cassian's eye twitched. Should've known better than to ask Lovegood.

"Fine. Lambent it is."

The illusion above shifted. Soft at first. Not the harsh sort that burns your retinas, but that golden-white flicker you get when the sun bounces off fresh snow.

"That's week one," Cassian said, as the shape held steady. "You start with the thing itself. The word. The idea. Brightness."

He turned slightly, so they could all see the image hover, pulsing faintly.

"Week two, you give it a form. You can't hold a concept forever."

The light stretched, shifted, then took shape. A lamb. Blinding white, standing still in the middle of the image.

"Still bright," he said. "But now it is fleshed out. It is tangible. That's your second anchor. You build around it.

"Week three, you turn that into place. mory and mind don't like floating things. They want space."

As he spoke, the haze turned. A room flickered into view, dim and stone-built. The lamb stood in the centre, casting that sa too-bright glow over the flagstones.

"Still lambent," Cassian said, "but now it's got sowhere to stand. Room takes shape around the anchor. Not the other way round."

He let the image linger a mont longer, then cut the spell with a snap.

The light died.

He looked out over the rows again.

"I'll show the other steps later," Cassian said, waving the illusion away. "The important bit is this, you build the palace around the anchor. Otherwise, you'll spend half your ntal energy trying to patch the walls instead of keeping the door shut."

Fred raised his hand like he was about to volunteer for sothing idiotic. "When do we get to build traps?"

George leaned in beside him. "We've got at least a hundred ideas. If you try entering our minds, we want to see if any of them work."

Cassian gave them a flat look. "Do any of those ideas involve restraint?"

"Absolutely not," Fred grinned.

Cassian sighed. "Fine. I'll test anyone who wants to run their palaces through a proper try. Don't pick anything embarrassing."

A few heads turned. Several students looked extrely guilty already.

He then waved them off. "Alright, this is it for today. You're dismissed."

Benches scraped back. Candles flickered out one by one as students filed out, chattering about the lesson.

He spotted the blond hold back before the rest had even crossed the threshold.

Didn't say anything. Just turned toward the board, fiddled with his wand until the last stragglers cleared out.

Only then, once the door thunked shut behind the last Ravenclaw, did he glance back.

"Mr Malfoy," he said, one eyebrow up. "What can I do for you?"

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