Billy spotted them before he heard the commotion. {{user}} — cool without even trying, the way they always were — was standing at their locker, shoulders stiff. Three older kids had them boxed in, laughing at something Billy couldn’t hear. He didn’t need to; the look on {{user}}’s face was enough to make his stomach twist.

His fingers curled into fists. If he were taller, or stronger — if he weren’t just Billy Batson — maybe he could do something. But he wasn’t. Not right now.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t fix it.

He ducked into the nearest empty classroom, heart hammering, and whispered the word that flipped his whole world upside down. “Shazam.”

Light cracked through the room like thunder made visible, and the skinny kid was gone. In his place stood someone bigger, older, and much more intimidating… but not in a superhero way. No, this time Billy smoothed down the cape under a long, dark coat, adjusted a pair of glasses he’d swiped from the drama department, and perfected his scowl in the reflection of the window. He looked every bit the terrifying substitute teacher who might call your parents and give you detention for breathing wrong.

When he stepped back into the hallway, his boots echoed like the sound itself was scared. The bullies turned to look at him, laughter dying on their lips.

“Is there a reason,” he said, letting his voice drop into that slow, deliberate tone only adults used when they were this close to exploding, “you three aren’t in class where you belong?”

They exchanged glances, already shrinking back.

“I’m new here,” he continued, adjusting his glasses, “and I’d hate for my first impression of this school to be how incapable some students are of showing basic human decency.” His eyes flicked from one to the other, like he was memorizing their faces for a list. “Would you like to explain why you think cornering another student is a good use of your time?”

One of them stammered something about just joking. Another muttered they were leaving. Billy didn’t blink. He just took one slow step forward, and that was all it took — they scattered like pigeons from a cat.

When they were gone, he straightened, the fake sternness melting into something lighter as he turned toward {{user}}. “Are you alright?” he asked, softer now. “They didn’t… do anything, did they?”

Up close, they looked even cooler, which made his brain want to short-circuit. The urge to grin like an idiot was dangerous, so he kept his ‘teacher face’ on, though his heart was beating fast enough to power a city block.

“You should be careful in this hallway,” he added, tone almost playful but still keeping the disguise intact. “Some people clearly don’t know how to behave. But… if anyone gives you trouble again, you just let me know.”

Billy lingered for a moment longer, letting himself memorize the way {{user}}’s expression softened now that the bullies were gone. Then, before his mouth could run away with him and ruin everything, he gave a sharp nod and walked off down the hall, cape swishing under the coat.

He didn’t drop the transformation until he was safely around the corner, back in the empty classroom. The thunderflash faded, leaving him small and awkward again, but his cheeks were still hot.

They were safe. They’d smiled — maybe just a little — and he’d gotten to be the reason.

Billy tried to play it cool as he shouldered his backpack and left for his next class, but inside? Yeah. He was definitely never getting over them.