Harry Potter and the Surprisingly Competent History of Magic Professor Chapter 288 288: It's a Date!

Cracks echoed across the room, so clean, so jagged. A few students barely shimred before being pushed back by the rune arrays. Crabbe sohow managed to trigger a full-body flicker and reappear sideways, colliding with Goyle in the neighbouring circle.

Goyle grunted as they both went down.

Cassian sighed. "Volu, gentlen. You both occupy it."

Pansy's first attempt resulted in a blue flash and nothing else.

She stepped out of the ring, scowling. "It's resisting."

"It's mirroring," Cassian said. "If you hesitate, it hesitates."

She narrowed her eyes and stepped back in.

Neville stood rigid in his circle, fingers clenched at his sides.

Daphne watched him. "You're holding your breath."

"I'm not."

"You are."

Cassian moved closer. "Longbottom."

Neville looked up.

"You've done harder things than this."

Neville swallowed. "That's different."

"You got this."

Neville glanced at the destination circle.

Cassian lowered his voice slightly. "Picture it. Think of it as stepping into your own greenhouse. Familiar. Yours."

Neville closed his eyes.

The ring lit up steadily. For a second, nothing happened. Then he vanished, reappearing in the second circle, eyes wide, hair slightly more dishevelled than before.

Daphne grinned. "You did it!"

Neville blinked at his hands, then at Cassian.

Cassian gave him a nod. "Again. Lock it in."

The class grew louder as more students managed successful displacents.

Cracks overlapped. Light flashed.

Cassian let them run through it twice more before clapping.

"Stop."

The rings dimd.

A few students were breathing hard. Lavender was flushed. Seamus looked exhilarated and mildly unwell.

Cassian stepped into the centre.

"Good. Now we complicate it."

Groans.

He ignored them.

He flicked his wand. The destination circles shifted slightly, rotating a few degrees off alignnt.

"You've been jumping in straight lines," he said. "That's comfortable. Now your destination isn't square with you."

Hermione frowned. "Angle displacent?"

"Yes."

Anthony raised his hand. "Does orientation affect splinching risk?"

"Of course it does," Cassian replied. "Your body expects gravity to cooperate. When you change angle, your internal sense of up shifts. If you misjudge, you reassemble off-balance."

Susan winced.

Cassian gestured at the rings. "Back in."

They obeyed.

This ti the failures were louder.

Seamus vanished and reappeared with a loud crack, stumbling sideways and crashing into Dean.

"Angle," Cassian called. "You pictured straight."

Seamus rubbed his shoulder.

Draco managed a clean shift, though he landed with his weight slightly forward.

Theo's second attempt was smoother. He adjusted mid-shimr, correcting his stance before fully reappearing.

Cassian let it run for several rounds. When even the more hesitant students began landing within their rings consistently, he lifted his wand and froze the arrays.

"Enough."

The room fell quiet except for a few ragged breaths.

Cassian looked over them. "You've just practised the core of Apparition without leaving the ground."

He walked slowly between the dimd circles.

"Destination isn't distance. It's volu. Determination isn't stubbornness. It's clarity. And what the Ministry calls deliberation is simply alignnt."

Hermione's quill was already scratching across parchnt.

Cassian stopped near Harry, who stood just outside his ring, watching the floor.

"You're dismissed for today. Next session, we increase distance."

Ron groaned. "How far?"

"Far enough."

A few students exchanged wary looks.

Cassian picked up his mug from the desk. "Rember what this felt like. The mont before the shift. That's the part that matters. The rest is noise."

They filed out slowly, talking over each other.

Draco, Blaise and Theo left together, mid-argunt about internal mapping. Hermione was already explaining sothing to Harry and Ron near the door.

"Good batch," Cassian muttered to the empty room.

They'd handled it better than he expected. Even the hesitant ones were starting to trust the shift instead of fighting it.

"Sixteen and already bending space," he said quietly. "Muggles would faint."

He flicked his wand, resetting the arrays. The lines vanished, leaving only stone. For a mont, he considered increasing the distance next ti far beyond what they expected. Half the classroom to the corridor. Corridor to courtyard. See who adapted fastest.

He smirked faintly.

"Let's not get them killed before NEWTs."

He set his mug on the desk, looking up at the ceiling.

"Suppose I could've shown them sothing flashy to boost their morale."

He vanished. There was no crack this ti. Completely silent. One mont he stood on the classroom floor. The next he hung upside down from the ceiling.

His robes fell toward his face. Blood rushed to his head. He grinned at the floor below.

"Bit theatrical," he murmured. He dropped for a while, hair flipping upward as the ceiling rushed away. Mid-air, body tilted headfirst toward the floor, he vanished again.

He reappeared standing upright on the ground, robes settling around him as though nothing had happened.

He glanced toward the door.

"Could make them go reckless or fire them up." He mused.

He whistled a tune, as he picked up his mug and walked out.

***

The corridor outside the classroom buzzed. Hermione stood with Harry, Ron, and Neville near a window alcove. She was sketching circles in the air with her finger, explaining how the angle shift affected centre mass. Ron looked half convinced, half betrayed by physics.

Draco and Theo were further down, arguing quietly.

"You're overcompensating," Theo said.

"I landed fine," Draco shot back.

"You drifted."

"I corrected."

Blaise smirked. "You both look ridiculous. The point's to appear as if you've always been there."

Draco sniffed. "I did."

Theo's mouth twitched. "Your fringe says otherwise."

Pansy walked past them with Daphne, Tracey and Millicent, arms folded. "The trick is to stop thinking like you're moving," she said. "You're not travelling. You're asserting."

Millicent glanced at her. "You sound like him."

Pansy looked faintly pleased.

Cassian passed them all, hands in his pockets.

"Keep that up," he said as he walked by. "By next month you'll be insufferable."

Draco rolled his eyes. "She already is."

Cassian chuckled, carrying on down the corridor, turning left toward the staff staircase.

Behind him, Hermione called, "Professor!"

"Yes?"

She jogged a few steps closer. "If orientation affects equilibrium, shouldn't we master rotation before increasing distance?"

Cassian glanced over his shoulder. "You planning to land on the ceiling?"

She blinked. "Not intentionally."

"Then practise landing on your feet first. Master the basics. Fancy footwork later."

She nodded, satisfied.

He gave her a small salute with two fingers and continued on.

He pushed the staff room door open, already mid-thought about tea. Four giggles hit him in the face. He froze, taking one slow step back.

"Nope," he muttered, and turned on his heel.

He'd made it three strides down the corridor when sothing tightened round his ankles. He looked down. A loop snapped shut.

"Oh, you've got to be-"

The noose yanked. He went down hard, arms windmilling. The corridor spun. His shoulder hit stone, then he slid backwards across the floor like a disgraced rug.

The staff room door swung wide. Bathsheda stood inside, wand raised, smiling innocently.

He dug his fingers into the floor. It didn't help.

"I'M WHIPPED!" he shouted as he was dragged over the threshold.

The door slamd shut behind him.

***

Aurora clapped. "Excellent entrance."

Charity wiped tears from her eyes. "You should see your face."

Septima was perched on the arm of a sofa, lips pressed tight to stop another laugh.

Cassian lay flat on his back for a mont, staring at the ceiling.

"I sensed danger," he said. "I reacted appropriately."

Bathsheda gave a small flick of her wand. The rope vanished. Cassian's legs dropped to the carpet.

He stayed where he was. "This is harassnt."

"You were escaping," Charity said sweetly.

"Yes."

Aurora leaned forward. "Suspicious behaviour."

Cassian rolled onto his side and pushed himself upright. "Four won giggling in a closed room? I've read history. That's either a coup or matchmaking."

Septima exchanged a glance with Charity. Aurora's mouth twitched.

Bathsheda moved to sit in her usual armchair, entirely unbothered. "We have sothing to say."

He looked at the door. Her wand lifted a fraction.

He sighed and dropped into the chair opposite them. "Fine. If this ends with wearing pink, I'm carrying a revolver."

Charity leaned back, crossing her legs. "Relax. You're not the target."

Aurora pointed at him. "We're organising Valentine's Day."

Cassian stared. "Absolutely not."

"You haven't heard the plan," Septima said.

"I don't need to. The phrase 'organising Valentine's Day' is already offensive."

Aurora leaned forward, elbows on knees. "Quadruple date."

Cassian's soul made a small, faint sound.

"Pardon?"

"Four couples," Charity said brightly. "One day."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

Septima cleared her throat. "It'll be fun."

He looked at her, betrayed. "You're ant to be the sensible one."

"I am being sensible."

Aurora ticked off fingers. " and Sirius."

Cassian closed his eyes.

"Charity and Kingsley."

He inhaled slowly.

"Septima's been seeing one of Kingsley's friends for weeks-"

His eyes snapped open. "Since when?"

Septima looked almost shy. "A while. It was your idea."

Charity grinned. "And then there's you."

He stared at her.

"And Bathsheda," Aurora finished.

With each na, sothing inside him died.

"Sirius," he muttered. "Kingsley. So mysterious friend. And ."

Aurora bead. "You sound thrilled."

"I sound dood."

Bathsheda looked at him, eyes lit, smiling wide. "It's a date."

He leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling beams, hoping they would collapse on him.

"You realise Black will treat this as a competitive sport."

Aurora waved a hand. "He already does."

"And Kingsley will sit there being reasonable." Septima laughed.

"Yes," Charity said. "That's why we like him."

Cassian pointed between them. "That leaves surrounded."

Bathsheda finally looked at him. "You've survived worse."

"That's different. That's corridors and cursed artefacts. This is candlelight."

Septima folded her hands in her lap. "You're afraid of dinner, Rosier?"

"I'm wary of dinner."

Aurora grinned. "He's afraid."

He rubbed his face and looked at Bathsheda again.

"That's cruel."

"You like cruel," she repeated.

Charity burst out laughing. He gave her a look. She narrowed hers back.

Bathsheda reached across and straightened his collar absently.

"It'll be fine," she said.

He sighed even harder.

"Right. Dinner. I can do it. With minimal sarcasm."

Aurora perked up. "You?"

"I said minimal. Not extinct."

For one brief, reckless heartbeat, Cassian considered saying three words he buried deep into his heart. He could feel the syllables sitting at the back of his tongue. Krouna tou Kakou. Call it. Let the ancient horror claw its way into the light. Let the sky split. Let the earth crack. Let sothing enormous and catastrophic stomp across Britain and give him a perfectly valid excuse to cancel the date. The perfect Good Night Spell.

Tempting. Really tempting.

Then he glanced at Bathsheda. She was speaking with Aurora again, faintly animated, eyes sparkling, already half-planning sothing about table and wine.

She looked excited.

He raked his hair. The world would remain unburnt.

'Krouna tou Kakou,' he muttered in his mind, almost fondly. 'Another ti, buddy.'

He dragged a hand down his face.

Things he did for love.

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Comntarius Maxima. Failed. Readers never intended.

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