Cedric Diggory cracked his knuckles, rolled his shoulders, and eyed the death trap ahead of him.
The Room of Requirement had apparently taken personal offense to the concept of safety. Swinging axes? Check. Crumbling platforms that practically screamed "haha, you're dead"? Double check. A literal pit of fire? Because why not? If Hogwarts had health and safety regulations, this room was violating every single one of them.
Harry clapped Cedric on the back like this was the most fun he'd had all week. "Alright, bub, let's see what you've got."
Cedric sighed, shaking his head. "I walked right into that one."
"Like a moth to a flame," Jean added, arms crossed. Her green eyes had that assessing X-Men leader look, like she was already running calculations on how many bones Cedric was about to break.
"Remember," she said, voice slipping into Coach Mode, "you don't just have enhanced speed and reflexes. You've got healing too, which means you can afford to take risks. But try not to get impaled just to prove a point, okay?"
Cedric smirked, stretching his fingers. "No promises."
Susan Bones let out a dramatic sigh, flipping her red hair over one shoulder. "And this is why you're the problem child."
"Excuse you," Cedric said, putting a hand over his heart. "That's Harry."
Harry waved. "I am the problem, it's me."
Luna Lovegood—who had, until now, been admiring the Room's choice of torches—perked up. "That's a very insightful self-reflection, Harry."
Cedric, clearly done with all of them, turned back to the obstacle course and moved.
One second he was standing there, relaxed and unbothered. The next—he was a blur.
Cedric launched himself onto the first platform. The moment he landed, the floor tilted like it wanted to dump him straight into the pit of spikes below. But Cedric's enhanced reflexes kicked in—he pushed off at just the right moment, flipping midair and landing on the next ledge like he did this for fun.
Fred whistled. "Well, that's unfair."
George nodded. "Bloke moves like he's been enchanted by Hermes himself."
Hermione, ever the analyst, had already started taking notes. "He's maximizing his momentum—using each landing as a springboard. If we calculate the force—"
Ron nudged her. "Hermione. Love of my life. Let's not math the murder course."
Next up: the axes. Because obviously, this room wasn't lethal enough.
The blades were the size of broomsticks, swooping down in evil synchronization. The gaps between them were tiny—barely enough space for someone to slip through.
Cedric grinned—actually grinned—and took them on.
He ducked under the first blade, twisted sideways to avoid the second, then jumped—his reflexes making it look obnoxiously easy. He flipped over the last axe, landing in a crouch, claws extended just in case the platform beneath him had any funny ideas.
"Show-off," Ron muttered.
"Come on, Ronald," Hermione huffed. "That was impressive."
"Yeah, yeah," Ron admitted. "Still a show-off."
Ah yes, the fire pit. Because what's an obstacle course without a fiery inferno of doom?
The only way across was a series of stone columns—some of which, judging by the scorch marks, liked to explode at random.
Cedric took one look at the setup, then sprinted.
He leapt from column to column, moving so fast that by the time one detonated, he was already two jumps ahead.
Harry turned to Jean. "So, we're just watching the wizarding world's Wolverine casually speedrun death?"
Jean, unimpressed but also totally impressed, nodded. "Basically."
Susan, looking mildly faint, muttered, "I need to reevaluate my life choices."
Finally, Cedric reached the last stretch—a fifteen-foot wall that looked impossible to climb. No handholds. No ropes. Just a giant slab of Nope.
Cedric smirked.
Then—snikt—his claws extended, gleaming in the torchlight.
Susan, watching with wide eyes, whispered, "That's so cool."
Cedric dug his claws into the stone, gripping like it was nothing, and scaled the wall. He moved fast, like a massive cat, climbing with pure power and precision. Then, just to rub it in, he flipped off the edge, landed in a crouch, and stood up—completely unharmed.
The room was silent for three seconds.
Then, Fred started clapping. George followed. Ginny, Susan, and even Daphne—who was pretending she wasn't impressed—joined in.
Cedric dusted off his hands, retracting his claws. "That was fun."
Harry snorted. "You're a menace."
Jean gave him a once-over, making sure he hadn't accidentally stabbed himself. "Well, you survived. And you didn't impale yourself, so that's progress."
Cedric grinned. "Guess that means I pass?"
Harry glanced at the smoldering fire pit, then at the group. "Yeah. You definitely pass."
Before anyone could volunteer (or be voluntold), Harry turned to Luna.
"Okay, so, Luna, I'm reminding you once again that you don't have to run the obstacle course."
Luna tilted her head. "Why not?"
"Because your powers aren't really…" He gestured vaguely at the murder gauntlet. "Physical?"
Luna blinked at him. "That sounds like a limiting belief."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "Luna, you literally float places. The swinging axes are not going to respect your personal space."
Luna gave him a look. "Neither do you, and yet you expect me to tolerate it."
"…Fair."
"Besides," Luna said, her dreamy smile unwavering, "I want to run it."
Harry sighed. "You want to run the death course?"
"I think it will be a valuable learning experience."
Harry looked at Jean, who just shrugged.
Fred grinned. "Well, this is gonna be entertaining."
George cracked his knuckles. "Place your bets, ladies and gentlemen. Will Luna defy physics, or will physics finally win?"
Daphne crossed her arms. "My money's on Luna."
"Same," Tracey said.
Percy, who had been quietly judging all of them, muttered, "I can't believe I'm surrounded by maniacs."
Luna, utterly unfazed, stepped up to the starting line, her expression serene.
Harry sighed. "Well, alright then."
Jean smirked. "Let's see what you've got, Lovegood."
—
Luna Lovegood adjusted her butterbeer cork necklace like she was preparing for a pleasant afternoon stroll instead of a magical death gauntlet.
"Alright," Harry muttered, rubbing his temples. "At this point, I don't even know what outcome I'm hoping for."
Jean, standing beside him with her arms crossed, let out a slow breath. "Best case scenario? Luna somehow breaks reality in a way we don't understand."
Ron squinted. "That's the best case?"
Jean nodded grimly.
Luna, blissfully unaware (or just choosing to ignore them), hummed a little tune and stepped onto the first platform.
And that's when things got weird.
Where Cedric had been forced to flip and twist like some high-octane action hero, Luna… walked.
Literally.
She strolled across the tilting platforms as if she were taking a casual jaunt through Hogsmeade, completely at odds with the reality everyone else could see—namely, that the platforms were bucking and lurching like an angry Hippogriff.
"They're not moving for her," Hermione whispered, clutching her quill in existential horror. "Why aren't they moving for her?"
Fred and George exchanged a look.
"Alright," Fred said, "who's gonna say it?"
George nodded. "She's walking like she's in a Studio Ghibli movie."
Ron, his jaw practically unhinged, sputtered, "That's not how physics works!"
Luna twirled onto the final platform with a flourish, then smiled back at them. "Oh, but Ron, physics is just a very stubborn Nargle. You have to befriend it."
Ron made a strangled noise that might have been words.
Cedric, watching this from the sidelines, ran a hand through his hair. "I did all those flips for nothing."
Jean patted him on the shoulder. "Yeah, sorry, mate. You went full action hero, and Luna just walked across reality like it was a slightly inconvenient puddle."
Cedric groaned. "I hate this."
The axes—sharp, deadly, and clearly designed by someone with a vendetta against living things—swung in terrifying synchronization, waiting to ruin someone's day.
Luna stepped forward, tilting her head as if listening to something only she could hear.
Then, in a move that made absolutely zero sense, she started dancing.
Not dodging. Not evading.
Dancing.
She twirled, pirouetted, and waltzed through the blades with eerie precision, her movements so effortless that it looked like she had choreographed the whole thing in advance.
The worst part? The axes seemed to… hesitate. Just slightly. As if they, too, were in awe of whatever eldritch magic she was channeling.
"DID—DID SHE JUST BALLET HER WAY THROUGH THE AXES?!" Ron screeched.
Hermione's quill snapped in half.
Ginny, wide-eyed, shook her head. "I think the laws of physics just gave up."
Remus, who had been calmly watching up until this point, ran a hand down his face. "This is a deeply troubling moment for magical academia."
Harry sighed, already resigned. "Of course she did."
Luna took one look at the burning inferno ahead of her and nodded sagely.
Then she skipped onto the first column.
And—just like the platforms before—nothing happened.
The fire, which had absolutely incinerated a chunk of Cedric's robes earlier, just… didn't react.
Everyone stared.
"She's not triggering the traps," Susan whispered, sounding vaguely horrified.
"No," Daphne muttered, her frown deepening. "The traps are choosing not to trigger."
Luna, meanwhile, moved with the grace of someone who had no idea the world was supposed to work against her. She hopped from column to column like she was playing an innocent game of hopscotch and not, say, navigating a deadly magical obstacle course.
Then, as she reached the final column—the one that had definitely exploded under Cedric—Luna knelt down and whispered something to it.
A moment later, the column calmly stayed intact as she hopped off it.
Everyone gaped.
"She just negotiated with the trap," George whispered.
Percy, whose entire existence had been built on the foundation of rules making sense, looked like his soul had left his body. "That's it," he muttered. "I'm going to bed. Forever."
Harry threw his hands in the air. "At this point? Yeah. Sure. Why not."
By all logic, the sheer, handhold-less wall should have been the end of Luna's absurd defiance of reality.
Luna, however, had other plans.
She tilted her head, watching the wall like it was an old friend. "Oh, you have Wrackspurts stuck in you. That's why you're so grumpy."
Then she reached out a hand.
And then—because of course she did—she floated.
Not jumped. Not climbed.
Floated.
Drifting up the side of the wall like gravity had simply given up.
Tracey, watching this with a deepening frown, turned to Daphne. "I don't like how much sense that doesn't make."
Daphne nodded. "It's deeply upsetting."
Hannah Abbott, who had been silent this entire time, finally spoke. "Are we sure she's human?"
Neville shook his head. "I don't think we can be sure of anything anymore."
Meanwhile, Luna landed gracefully at the top, spun in a circle, and gave them all a dreamy smile.
"That was lovely," she said. "I do hope the traps feel better now."
The room, seemingly in agreement, rumbled and then… stopped.
The fire pit extinguished. The axes halted mid-swing. The tilting platforms settled.
Jean, looking vaguely haunted, muttered, "She just pacified the Room of Requirement."
Harry sighed, rubbing his temples. "Of course she did."
Luna beamed. "Would you like me to run it again?"
"NO."
There was silence. Deep, profound silence.
Then, finally, Fred spoke.
"Well," he said, voice hoarse, "I think I just found my new religion."
George nodded solemnly. "All hail Luna."
Luna clapped her hands. "Oh, I do love new traditions."
Ron, eyes glazed over, muttered, "I need to go lie down."
Hermione, clutching her shattered quill, whispered, "I need to rethink how the universe works."
Harry just shook his head, completely resigned. "Alright, I think it's safe to say that Luna wins."
Luna smiled. "Oh, I wasn't trying to win. I was just having fun."
Harry sighed, turning to Jean. "Okay. Who's next?"
Jean, still looking vaguely traumatized, shook her head. "I think we need a minute to process whatever just happened."
Susan, staring at Luna like she was an unsolvable equation, whispered, "I don't think I even want to understand."
Luna just tilted her head, completely serene.
"That sounds like a limiting belief."
Everyone groaned.
—
After what felt like an appropriate mourning period for the death of reality, the group finally pulled themselves together.
Ron had stopped twitching (mostly).
Hermione had recalibrated her entire worldview (again).
Percy had rejoined the land of the living, still clutching a cup of tea like it held the last remnants of his sanity.
And now, it was Daphne's turn.
She rolled her shoulders, cracked her knuckles, and took a slow, deep breath. "Alright. Let's get this over with."
Harry squinted at her. "I just want to confirm—do you plan on respecting physics? Or are we about to witness round two of 'Screw You, Reality'?"
Daphne smirked. "Oh, don't worry. I won't be ignoring physics." She flexed her fingers, and a chill filled the air. "Just… aggressively negotiating with it."
Jean let out a low whistle. "So, more X-Men than Studio Ghibli?"
Daphne raised an eyebrow. "I have no idea what that means, but sure."
Harry sighed, already regretting his life choices. "Alright. Let's do this."
And with that, Daphne stepped onto the course.
Daphne took one look at the shifting, tilting platforms and snorted.
"Oh, this is adorable."
She raised a hand, and ice spread beneath her feet, coating the platforms in a thin, glistening layer of frost. The moment her foot touched the surface, the ice responded—moving her forward like an invisible conveyor belt.
No jumps. No careful footwork. Just pure, effortless gliding.
Hermione let out a strangled gasp. "She's… she's ice skating through the course."
Ron made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a dying cat. "Oh, come on."
Cedric, still emotionally recovering from Luna's performance, muttered, "This was supposed to be difficult."
Meanwhile, Daphne barely acknowledged the shifting platforms. Every time one tried to tilt beneath her, the ice adjusted—extending, reshaping, reinforcing itself like it had a mind of its own.
She twirled onto the final platform, executing a perfect spin before coming to a graceful stop.
Jean crossed her arms. "Okay, but did you have to look so cool doing it?"
Daphne shrugged. "It's called style."
Ron groaned into his hands. "I hate this."
Daphne approached the swinging axes, her expression deeply unimpressed.
The massive blades whistled through the air, designed to make even the most experienced duelist hesitate.
Daphne?
She just exhaled.
A blast of frost surged outward, and suddenly—CRACK—the axes froze solid in midair, their momentum stolen by thick layers of ice.
Everyone blinked.
Daphne strolled through them casually, trailing a hand along the frozen metal.
"I feel like," Ginny said slowly, "that should not have been that easy."
Susan, eyes narrowed, folded her arms. "That was an expensive security measure, you know."
Hermione, looking increasingly done, just scribbled something in her notes.
Remus tilted his head, stroking his chin. "It's a very practical approach. I'll give her that."
Ron, one existential crisis away from collapsing, groaned. "She just froze the murder traps."
Daphne turned back, smirking. "Yes, Ronald. That is what happened."
Harry sighed, already bracing for the next disaster. "Moving on."
Ahead, a raging inferno roared, flames licking high, waiting to torch anyone who dared cross.
Daphne barely glanced at it.
She snapped her fingers.
FWOOSH.
The flames vanished.
Silence.
Hermione dropped her quill.
Susan's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. "Did she just turn off fire?"
Daphne shrugged. "Fire is just heat. Remove the heat, no more fire."
Harry groaned. "Oh, sure, when she does it, it's science. When Luna does it, it's an existential crisis."
Jean nudged him. "Luna befriended the traps. That's what made it existential."
Daphne leapt across the now-frozen pillars, barely acknowledging the challenge.
Ron threw his hands in the air. "That was supposed to be the hard part!"
Ginny patted his shoulder. "It's okay, Ron. You'll get through this."
"I won't," Ron muttered.
Daphne paused at the final obstacle—a towering, utterly handhold-less wall.
She flexed her fingers. Ice shot up the stone surface, spiraling into a sleek, glittering staircase.
Then she walked up.
Not climbed. Not struggled. Just walked up like she was taking a scenic Sunday stroll.
Percy, watching with the dead-eyed stare of a man who had truly given up, murmured, "I have never been so insulted by someone following the laws of thermodynamics."
Jean let out a long breath. "I gotta admit—that was efficient."
Daphne smirked. "You don't survive as a Slytherin without knowing how to work smarter, not harder."
Neville whispered to Hannah, "I feel like Cedric's never going to emotionally recover from this."
Cedric, dragging a hand down his face, groaned. "I hate you all."
As Daphne stepped onto the final platform, the room rumbled again—acknowledging yet another competitor's completion.
Luna clapped politely. "Oh, that was lovely, Daphne. Very pragmatic."
Daphne nodded. "Thanks, Luna."
Harry sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright. Who's next?"
Jean exhaled, still recovering from the sheer audacity of Daphne's existence. "I think we need a moment."
Ron groaned, flopping onto the floor. "We need a year."
Fred and George, ever the opportunists, exchanged a look.
"Well," Fred said, stroking his chin, "I think I've found my next business investment."
George nodded sagely. "Ice-walking lessons?"
Fred grinned. "Ice-walking lessons."
Daphne smirked. "For the right price, boys."
Harry, resigned to his fate, turned to Neville. "Alright. You're up."
Neville paled. "Wait. What?"
Harry clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, sorry, mate. It's your turn."
Jean, still processing everything, muttered, "Let's see if reality decides to cooperate this time."
Ron, face-down on the floor, just whimpered.
—
Neville Longbottom stood there, frozen, as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He was next. His heart was drumming in his chest like it was preparing for a rock concert, and his feet? Yeah, they were completely glued to the floor. It didn't help that the floor had this uncanny habit of spinning beneath him. Awesome.
"Wait, I—" Neville began, but Harry, looking suspiciously like he was about to faint from sheer anxiety, slapped him on the back with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Neville, mate, you've got this," Harry said, his voice cracking like it had just passed puberty. It was hard to tell if he was trying to convince Neville or himself. Probably both.
Neville managed a nod that he hoped looked confident. "Right. Right, yeah. I can do this," he muttered, mostly to himself. He glanced at his shaking hands, wondering if they were going to betray him in front of the entire group. Please, no.
Jean, standing nearby with her usual mysterious air—like she knew something about him that he didn't—shot him an encouraging smile. "Just focus, Neville. You control plants, right? Just... let them do their thing."
If only it were that easy, Neville thought, trying to ignore the massive pit in his stomach.
The first obstacle was the shifting platforms, which were spinning randomly, creating the kind of chaotic rhythm that would make even a free-spirited circus performer question their life choices. Neville wiped his sweaty palms on his robes, took a deep breath, and hesitantly stepped forward.
As soon as his foot hit the first platform, a vine shot out from his sleeve like it had a mind of its own. It wrapped around his leg and yanked him forward, and not in any graceful, "I've got this" kind of way. More like a clumsy toddler trying to walk for the first time.
Gotta stop embarrassing myself, gotta stop embarrassing myself, Neville thought, barely managing not to faceplant as he staggered toward the next platform.
Hermione's voice echoed in his head, You've got control over plants, Neville. You can do this. Just believe in yourself.
Yeah, that was easier said than done. He gave the vine a mental shove to make it work properly. It wriggled awkwardly before pulling him forward again, this time with a little more grace. Okay, okay, I'm doing this.
But then his foot slipped. He grabbed a nearby pillar, heart racing like a runaway broomstick.
"Er, sorry about that!" he called out, his face burning with embarrassment. The vine, probably sensing his mortification, retracted quickly—almost apologetically—before reaching out once more, this time with more intention.
"Okay, I'm in control. I am in control," Neville whispered, trying not to hyperventilate. The vine listened this time. It wrapped around the platform more smoothly, allowing Neville to glide—well, sort of—toward the next section.
And by "glide," I mean "awkwardly stumble while trying not to look like he's drowning in slow motion."
As Neville reached the swinging axes, he froze. His mind went blank. Axes. Big, sharp, deadly axes. And Neville? Well, he didn't exactly have a black belt in dodging murderous obstacles.
He had to act. And fast.
A flick of his wrist, and vines shot out from his hands, spiraling and twisting together like a tangled mess of spaghetti. The axes swung down, cutting through the air with terrifying speed. But Neville didn't panic. Not yet. The vines tangled around the axes just in time, catching them mid-swing and freezing them in place, the blades suspended in mid-air, completely unable to continue their murderous trajectory.
Neville stood there, chest heaving, trying to act casual. "Okay… okay, that wasn't too bad," he muttered to himself, barely believing what just happened.
Meanwhile, Daphne—who had been watching all this like she was enjoying a particularly good episode of "The Neville Show"—raised an eyebrow. "Not bad for a first try. Though, I'm starting to think these obstacles are just getting scared of you now."
Ron, who had been lying on the floor, possibly considering a nap to avoid further humiliation, groaned from beneath the stone. "I'm never going to financially recover from this."
Neville forced himself to ignore the nervous laughter in his chest and pressed on. With the axes out of the way, he had to tackle the next bit—floating, spinning pillars that looked like they were designed by a madman on a sugar high. Neville could feel the panic rising in his throat, but he pushed it down.
"Alright, Neville. Focus," he muttered under his breath.
With a deep breath, he raised his hands, and the vines shot out like an extension of his own body. They gripped the floating pillars, keeping him steady as he hopped across them, each jump slightly more graceful than the last.
Then came the fire.
Neville's heart leapt into his throat. Fire was his worst nightmare. He wasn't exactly best buds with anything that involved burning or intense heat.
But he couldn't back out now. He had to do something.
"Focus," Neville whispered, his hands trembling as vines emerged from his fingers, snaking their way toward the fire. The flames licked at the air, almost mocking him.
And then, something clicked. The vines coiled around the fire—not to snuff it out, but to embrace it. They wrapped around the flames like a loving, maternal hug, absorbing the heat until the fire seemed to surrender and flicker out. A few sizzling pops and—poof—it was gone.
Neville stood there, wide-eyed. Did he—did he just do that?
The room fell into a dead silence.
And then, as if on cue, the group erupted into applause. Cedric hooted from the sidelines, Ginny clapped so hard Neville was worried her hands might combust, and Jean gave him a smirk that was somehow both impressed and slightly amused. "Well, that was certainly unexpected."
Ron, still face down on the floor, muttered, "How is everyone so good at this?"
Ginny patted him sympathetically. "It's okay, Ron. You've got… other talents."
Neville felt a strange surge of pride—and then immediately followed it up with confusion. "Wait. How do I get up that wall?" he asked, pointing at the sheer stone face that loomed in front of him like a sarcastic challenge.
The crowd waited for him to figure it out. Neville didn't even hesitate. With a flourish of his hands, vines shot up from his fingertips, twisting together into a makeshift rope. He climbed, hand over hand, until he reached the top.
Looking down at the stunned faces below, Neville wiped his brow. "Uh, I guess that's it?"
Daphne, who had been observing him with an almost ridiculous amount of interest, raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. Not bad for a first attempt."
Neville gave a shaky grin, before promptly collapsing onto a nearby surface. "Never. Again."
Harry chuckled from the sidelines. "Oh, don't worry. It gets worse."
—
Alright, so there they were: Harry, Jean, and Susan—standing in front of a group of newly minted magical mutants—trying to explain the concept of MageX. In case you're wondering, MageX is the magical equivalent of the X-Men. Superpowers? Check. Fighting evil? Check. Wearing ridiculously stylish costumes? Eh, maybe, but let's not get ahead of ourselves.
Cedric, Luna, Daphne, and Neville had just wrapped up their "trial runs," showing off their abilities, and now it was time for the big pitch. The problem? All four of them were pureblood wizards, and apparently, the whole "mutant superhero team" thing was lost on them.
"Alright," Harry started, leaning against a table with a sigh, "let's go over this again, just so we're clear. We are MageX. Yes, we're kind of like a magical superhero team. We fight for mutant rights. And no, Cedric," he added, turning to the pale, confused-looking blonde, "being magical doesn't automatically make you a mutant. A mutant has... well, a mutation."
"Like a genetic thing?" Cedric asked, his brow furrowed, and if you squinted hard enough, you could probably see the beginnings of a migraine forming on his face.
"Exactly," Harry said, rubbing his forehead, feeling that migraine forming himself. "Some people are born with abilities that are, you know, different. And by different, I mean flying, mind-reading, turning invisible, the usual weird stuff. But rather than hide away or—oh, I don't know—turn into an evil overlord, we decided to protect people like us."
Jean, who had been standing to the side with her arms crossed, shook her head and smiled softly. She was, as always, the calm in the storm. Not that she wasn't ready to throw down if necessary, but let's face it, her powers were a bit more subtle.
"I know this might sound crazy," Jean said, stepping forward, her voice like a warm breeze, "but the X-Men have been doing this for decades. Fighting for people with powers. Protecting the innocent. It's about standing up for those who can't stand up for themselves."
Luna, of course, was the first one to interrupt, her voice as dreamy as ever. "So, it's like we're all... secret superheroes? Except we can use our powers in public?"
Jean gave her a gentle smile. "Exactly, Luna. We use our powers to help, not hide."
"Right," Harry chimed in, "and there are bad guys. Lots of bad guys. People like Magneto—he thinks that mutants should rule over everyone else. Yeah, he's a fun one. Think of him like the magical version of some old pureblood bigot who thinks Muggles should be subjugated." He paused for dramatic effect. "Except worse."
Daphne, always the more skeptical one, raised an eyebrow. "So, you're telling me that some mutants want to take over the world? How original."
"Hey, I don't make the rules," Harry said with a shrug. "But yeah, there are some who think their powers make them superior. That's what MageX is all about—stopping them, protecting people, and making sure no one has to hide who they are."
Neville, who had been silent up until now, looked like he was absorbing the information with the same focus he applied to herbology. "So, we're fighting these people?"
"Yep," Susan chimed in, her voice upbeat, as usual. "Fighting evil, saving the world. The usual hero stuff."
"And you don't need to be a mutant to join?" Daphne asked, eyes narrowing. "Like, if you don't have any powers, you can still be in this MageX thing?"
Jean's eyes softened. "That's right, Daphne. It's not just about powers—it's about the heart. About doing what's right. Hermione, the Weasleys, even Hannah Abbott—they're part of MageX. No mutant genes in sight. But they believe in the cause, and that's enough."
"Exactly," Susan added. "I mean, look at us. We're a team. No one gets left behind."
"Plus," Harry said, glancing at Tracey, who was standing a bit awkwardly by the side, "we've got room for honorary members too. Like Tracey. She doesn't have mutant powers, but she's got enough guts to join the fight."
Tracey blinked, clearly startled at being mentioned, but then nodded firmly. "If you need me, I'm in. I've got your backs."
"See?" Harry grinned, happy to have that part of the speech done. "It's about the cause, not just powers. If you're in for the fight and you believe in what we're doing, then welcome to MageX."
Luna looked thoughtful for a second, her head tilted like she was figuring out how to process everything. "So, like, we're all part of one big... family?" she asked.
"Yes!" Jean said brightly, giving her an approving smile. "Exactly. One big, slightly dysfunctional family."
"And if you need someone to prank, you've got Fred and George in your corner," Harry added, grinning at the twins, who had, as usual, been lurking in the background, waiting for their cue.
"Always ready to cause some chaos," Fred said, his twin's lips curling into an identical grin.
"Hey, if I'm not on a broomstick and causing havoc, am I even living?" George added, causing everyone to laugh.
Daphne raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-serious. "I still want a codename. You can't be in a superhero team and not have one."
Harry raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, maybe we'll give you a codename. But not 'Mistress of Shadows,' Daphne. We're keeping it simple for now. We've got to start with basics first—like figuring out how not to get blown up by the bad guys."
"I'll settle for 'Ice Queen' for now," Daphne said, but her smirk was so full of mischief that it was hard to tell whether she was joking.
"Alright," Jean said, her tone more serious now as she looked each of them in the eye. "Are we all agreed? MageX could use people like you."
The room went quiet. Everyone was looking around, processing what this would mean for their futures. Cedric, after a beat of silence, took a step forward, his face serious but determined. "I'm in."
"I think I'd like to give this a try," Luna said with that dreamy, serene smile of hers. "It'll be fun."
Daphne nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Fine. I'll play along. But there better be a cool team meeting room with snacks."
Neville, who still looked a bit unsure but braver than he'd been hours before, finally nodded. "Alright. I'm in too. I want to do the right thing."
Tracey gave a firm nod, glancing at Harry. "If you'll have me, I'll fight for this. Count me in."
Harry's grin spread across his face. "Great. Welcome to MageX, everyone. Now, let's go do some superhero stuff."
And just like that, the team was ready. Whether they had powers, skills, or just the sheer guts to stand up for what was right, they were in it together. Ready to fight. Ready to win.
"And if you ever need a cape," Harry added with a wink, "just ask Fred and George. They're working on some prototype ones."
And so began the next chapter of MageX.
---
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