Harry Potter with Technology System

At this time, the door burst open, and in strode Professor McGonagall, her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. Her gaze swept over the gathered students, eyes narrowing at the sight of Harry standing at the front of the room. She looked royally annoyed, her robes swishing as she stopped near the center of the hall.

"Mr. Potter, I hope what I heard is not true," she said sharply, folding her arms across her chest.

Harry remained calm, though he glanced quickly around the room. Every single student was still present—no one had left, which meant McGonagall’s sudden knowledge of their activity was a mystery. Still, he didn’t let it show on his face. He tilted his head slightly and asked evenly, "And what exactly do you think I’m doing, Professor?"

McGonagall’s gaze sharpened further. "It has come to my attention that you are attempting to teach Occlumency," she said in a clipped tone. "That is not only an advanced and highly sensitive branch of magic, but it also requires constant, delicate guidance from a qualified instructor. You cannot simply ‘teach’ Occlumency to a crowd of students like this."

Several students shifted uncomfortably at her words, but Harry didn’t falter. He straightened, speaking with an ease that seemed to irritate McGonagall further. "With respect, Professor, I’m not teaching full Occlumency. That would be ridiculous. What I’m doing is showing them how to build basic mental defenses—something simpler, safer, and more practical."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Simpler, you say? And what precisely does this ‘simpler’ method entail?"

Harry asked, “Please take out your magical book, Professor.”

McGonagall narrowed her eyes but didn’t refuse. With a quick wave of her wand, a thin, black-covered magical book appeared in her hand.

“Flip to the mental defense section,” he said, watching as McGonagall opened the book. Her lips tightened as the enchanted pages shimmered briefly, revealing the section Harry had mentioned. Without waiting for her reaction, he continued, “Now, activate the simulation mode. Just tap the bottom of the page with your wand.”

McGonagall hesitated for a split second before doing as instructed. The book’s ink glowed faintly, and after a moment, her expression changed—subtle, but noticeable to those paying close attention. Her brow furrowed slightly, and her usually composed demeanor wavered just enough for Harry to notice.

“It’s trying to influence your thoughts,” Harry explained calmly. “The goal is to recognize that external push and push back by reinforcing your own thoughts.”

After feeling for a bit, and reading the instructions, McGonagall closed the book, visibly relieved. Whatever skepticism she had carried when she walked in seemed to fade. She set the book down on the table, her expression softening as she gave Harry a long, measuring look.

“I admit, Mr. Potter, this... approach of yours is more thought-out than I expected,” she said, folding her arms, but without her earlier sternness. “It’s not quite what I feared, but you understand why I was concerned.”

Harry nodded, chuckling. “Of course. I get it—it’s advanced magic. This is just a way to give everyone here a shot at resisting without wrecking their minds in the process.”

McGonagall’s lips twitched, almost as if she were holding back a smile. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“Had to,” Harry replied simply. “Professor Moody’s lessons might be helpful, but if someone messes up under the Imperius Curse even once, it can leave a permanent crack in their defenses. I figured it’s better to prep for that now.”

Her gaze swept across the room, where students were still deep in their practice. Most looked focused, some more frustrated than others. Fred and George were whispering to each other, likely trying to figure out how to cheat the exercise. Hermione, ever serious, was flipping between pages in her book while Ginny and Luna quietly debated something nearby.

“I see,” McGonagall said slowly, nodding as if in thought. “You’re doing what the professor intends—teaching resistance—but you’ve modified it in a way that lowers the risk.”

“That’s the idea,” Harry said with a shrug. “We can’t afford to lose control, even during practice.”

McGonagall studied him for another moment before giving a short nod. “Very well, Mr. Potter. I’ll allow this to continue, but do exercise caution. If there is any incidents—”

“You’ll be the first to know,” Harry cut in smoothly.

She gave him a pointed look but didn’t argue. “Carry on, then.”

With that, McGonagall turned on her heel and left, the door swinging shut behind her with a quiet click. As soon as she was gone, the room erupted into hushed murmurs. Most of the students seemed relieved that McGonagall hadn’t shut them down, though a few looked curious about what had just happened.

“That was close,” Daphne said, stepping up beside Harry. She still had her book in hand, though it looked like she abandoned the simulation for now. “I thought for sure she was going to shut us down.”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "You make it out like I was doing something illegal. Come on, get back to practice. We only have a couple of hours before curfew, and you need to learn the basics before tomorrow."

Daphne raised a brow but didn’t argue. “Fine, but if I wake up with a headache tomorrow, I’m holding you responsible.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry replied, motioning for the others to settle down and continue. “Just don’t try to brute force it. Focus on the anchor like I said. Everything else comes after that.”

The students scattered back to their spots, flipping open their enchanted books. The soft hum of magic filled the room again as the simulation mode kicked in, gently nudging at their minds.

As the practice session continued, the room grew quieter, with only the occasional murmur or the sound of quills scratching against parchment breaking the silence. Most of the students were fully engrossed in their exercises now, their earlier doubts replaced by focused determination.

Harry glanced at the clock mounted on the wall. They had about thirty minutes left before curfew. He clapped his hands once, drawing everyone’s attention. “Alright, wrap it up. You’ve got five more minutes to finish your current round, then we’ll call it a night.”

There was a collective groan from several students, but they didn’t argue. Most of them looked tired—mental exercises, especially ones involving resisting magical influence, weren’t exactly easy. Even the more experienced students looked relieved at the thought of ending the session soon.

Once the five minutes were up, Harry sent everyone back to their dormitories, cautioning them against overworking themselves. “Your mind’s like a muscle,” he said as the students gathered their things. “Push it too hard without rest, and you’ll snap something. You learn more from sleep than cramming, so don’t overdo it.”

Fred, slinging his bag over one shoulder, gave Harry a cheeky grin. “Didn’t know you cared so much about our well-being, Potter.”

“I don’t,” Harry shot back, smirking slightly. “But if your brain breaks and you start acting dumber than usual, that’s on me.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd as students began filing out. Ginny gave him a quick wave before disappearing with Luna, who was still cheerfully rambling about “thought-eating Nargles.” Theodore muttered something about “mental torture disguised as extra credit” but didn’t complain further. By the time the last of them left, only a few stray echoes of footsteps lingered in the hall.

Harry shut the door behind them, turning back toward the room. He walked to one of the desks and sat down, letting out a slow breath as the tension of the evening faded slightly. He barely had a moment to himself before Nigel’s familiar voice echoed in his mind.@@novelbin@@

“Ah, teaching younglings the basics of Occlumency, Harry?” Nigel’s tone was as usual, with just the right amount of smug amusement to be irritating.

Harry didn’t respond immediately, pulling a scrap of parchment from his pocket and scanning it. After a beat, he said, “Just the basics.”

Nigel gave an exaggerated chuckle. “I’m not Professor McGonagall. I know exactly what you’re up to. This is just the first step. Once they get a grip on this, you’ll open the door for them to learn advanced mind-shielding techniques.”

Harry leaned back in his chair, tossing the parchment onto the desk. “Maybe. Depends on how fast they pick it up.”

“Of course, of course,” Nigel replied, voice dripping with mock approval. “You, the benevolent mastermind, single-handedly raising a generation of wizards too stubborn to be mind-controlled.”

Harry ignored the jab, tapping the desk with his fingers thoughtfully. “The Triwizard Tournament’s going to bring chaos, Nigel. If anyone’s stupid enough to try controlling my people, I want them ready.”

Nigel chuckled, "Your people?"

Harry smiled faintly, shrugging. "Yeah."

Nigel let out a short, mocking hum. "Very lordly of you. What’s next? Are you planning to brand them?"

Harry ignored the jab and leaned back in his chair. “If it keeps them from being cursed into mindless puppets, I might consider it.”