Ace had truly believed that Hogwarts couldn’t possibly get any more unbearable—but the first week of term spat that belief right back in his face.

Things had already gone off the rails the moment he laid eyes on the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The woman wore her smile like a costume—too wide, too polished, and about as genuine as a cursed mirror. Beneath that syrupy voice and sickly-sweet manners was something venomous. It was clear from day one that she wasn’t interested in teaching them how to defend themselves—not against curses, not against creatures, and certainly not against the rising storm they all knew was coming. Instead, they were told to read silently for entire lessons.

Because surely, when Voldemort returned (again), they could just hurl a textbook at him and hope for the best. It was almost laughable—how willfully blind the Ministry was. Or maybe it wasn’t blindness at all. Maybe it was denial. Or fear.

So when Harry suggested forming a secret group to practice defense properly, Ace didn’t hesitate. He was in. If the adults weren’t going to prepare them, then they would have to prepare each other. Teach themselves. Protect themselves. And when Neville stumbled across the Room of Requirement—an enchanted space that reshaped itself to their needs—it felt like something real. Something powerful. For once, they had an edge. A sliver of control. Ace felt proud to be part of it.

At precisely six o’clock, the bricks slid open with a low groan, dust tumbling from the ceiling like ash from a dying fire. Students shuffled in, coughing and laughing as they brushed grit from their shoulders. The room was massive and hollow, with high arching beams and rough stone walls, but no one seemed to care about the grime.

It was filthy, sure. Dirty as shit, honestly. But it was also theirs. They’d clean it, they’d charm it, they’d make it a place that felt like a home.

By 6:15, the room had taken on a pulse of its own. It was alive with chatter, with laughter, with the spark of something electric and defiant. It felt—right. House lines blurred as Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws mingled, exchanging tips and jokes and nervous glances. For once, there wasn't tension or smug hierarchy.

Leaning against a chilled marble pillar, Ace rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, his beechwood wand tucked neatly into his pocket. His shoulder brushed Fred’s. “Harry, bloody hell, mate—when are we starting?” he called out across the room, his naturally loud voice echoing off the stone. His tone was playful, but undercut with impatience.

Harry looked up, flustered, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Hah—just give me a second, everyone! We’re about to start soon.” Ace’s brow twitched. Right. Translation: he and Ron hadn’t actually finished planning anything. Again. He bit his tongue, though. He wouldn’t ruin this—not today.

His gaze drifted as the old bricks shivered slightly, dust raining softly between the cracks. Someone else was arriving. The room suddenly went silent—dead silent. Ace turned slowly toward the door.

Oh.

Slytherins.

A whole group of them. Eight, by the looks of it. Ace’s sharp gaze scanned their faces with precision—calculating, wary, already bracing himself.

What the actual fuck were they doing here?

Everyone knew most Slytherins were already leagues ahead in Defense Against the Dark Arts. They grew up with it—half of them practically learning hexes alongside lullabies. Not to mention, many of their families were the exact people the rest of the school was trying to defend themselves from.

And there, standing just slightly ahead of the others—the Slytherin who had allegedly pushed a Hufflepuff girl down the stairs last spring. Allegedly. Ace hadn’t forgotten the way she cried, or how no one could prove it. He let out a loud, deliberate sigh, shooting Harry a look that said What the hell are you thinking?

The mood shifted. The lightness dimmed, tension slipping in like a cold draft. “Well, isn’t that the joke of the day,” Henry muttered beside him, already starting to pull back.

Harry quickly stood in front of everyone, clasping his hands together. "I..uhm, well I wanted to invite them here because they are very knowledgeable in defense against the dark arts! It would benefit us all if we learned a thing or two—welcome, by the way guys." He laughed nervously, trying to loosen the tension. Ace simply stared at the pillar, thinking it was going to be a very long evening.