Fred and George Weasley strode into the Great Hall.
They spotted Harry at once and hurried over.
"Brilliant job—really brilliant!" George whispered. "Wood told us everything!"
Ron chimed in beside them, "Fred and George are on the House team too—Beaters."
"Our job is to make sure you don't get knocked into next week," Fred explained.
"But don't get your hopes up. Quidditch is brutal. Wild and brutal."
"With you on the team, we're definitely taking the Cup this year," George said. "Ever since Charlie left, we've barely won anything. But this time—this year—we're going to shine."
"You're going to be amazing, Harry. Wood almost exploded with excitement when he told us. I mean it—he couldn't even talk straight."
"But we've got to run. Lee Jordan thinks he's found a brand-new secret passage—one that goes outside the school."
"Bet it's the one behind Gregory the Smarmy's statue. We found that in our first week. See you."
The twins turned and slipped away.
And the moment they left, Harry saw the last people he wanted to deal with.
Malfoy. Crabbe. Goyle.
All three walking straight toward him.
"Having your last meal, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "When are you taking the train back to your Muggle relatives?"
"Funny," Harry said coldly. "You're a lot braver without a broom under you—and with your two tiny little friends beside you."
Crabbe and Goyle weren't tiny at all, but with the staff table full of professors, they didn't dare try anything. They only glared at Harry like they wanted to eat him alive.
"All bark and no bite?" Malfoy said. "How about we settle this for real? What do you say?"
He leaned in.
"Tonight. A proper wizard's duel. Wands only. No physical contact. What's wrong? Don't tell me you've never heard of a wizard's duel?"
"Of course Harry knows," Ron cut in sharply. "I'll be his second. Who's yours?"
Malfoy looked from Crabbe to Goyle as if weighing two particularly dim pumpkins.
"Crabbe," he said at last. "Midnight. Trophy Room. The door's never locked. Unless you're scared—then don't bother coming."
And with that, Malfoy stalked off, leaving Harry and Ron standing there.
"What exactly is a wizard's duel?" Harry asked. "And what was that about being my 'second'?"
"If a wizard gets killed in a duel, the second steps in," Ron said lightly, biting into a pie.
Harry froze. Killed?
Seeing his expression, Ron hurried to clarify:
"That's in official duels. Proper grown-up wizards. Not this. Neither of you even knows more than a handful of spells—you couldn't kill each other if you tried! You'll probably only manage to shoot off a few sparks. Malfoy's just trying to scare us. Didn't expect we'd actually say yes."
"And what if I can't cast anything at all?"
"Then toss your wand aside and punch him square in the nose," Ron suggested.
Hermione's voice came from behind them:
"I couldn't help overhearing what you two were planning…"
"I knew you would," Ron muttered.
"You can't trust Malfoy, and wandering around the castle at night is against the rules! You'll lose Gryffindor a mountain of points—and you might even get expelled! It's far too dangerous!"
"Malfoy's been asking for it. I've wanted to punch him for ages," Harry said.
"Exactly! This is between men!" Ron declared.
Ending the day with a duel definitely wasn't ideal. Harry lay in bed thinking about it. Dean and Seamus were already snoring, and Neville still hadn't returned from the hospital wing.
Ron spent half the night whispering strategies.
"Before the duel, use the Doppelgänger Charm to confuse him, then hit him when he's distracted. And if he fires a spell at you—dodge it! I can't remember how to block curses."
Harry felt like fate was mocking him again. They were about to break another school rule—and they might even get caught by Filch and his cat, Mrs. Norris.
Still, this was a perfect chance to teach Malfoy a lesson. That annoying, smug face kept floating in front of Harry's eyes, making him wish midnight would come faster.
At eleven-thirty, Ron crept to Harry's bed.
"We've got to go."
Harry got dressed in a rush, grabbed his wand from under his pillow, and followed Ron downstairs to the common room.
A few embers glowed in the fireplace, casting long, black shadows behind the chairs.
They were almost at the portrait hole when a voice behind them spoke.
"Harry, I cannot believe you're actually going through with this!"
The lamps flared to life, revealing Hermione Granger standing up from the chair nearest them, dressed in a pink bathrobe, glaring furiously.
"What are you doing here?" Ron snapped. "Go back to bed!"
"I should've gone straight to your brother," Hermione shot back. "Percy's a prefect. He'd have stopped this nonsense immediately."
"Let's go," Harry said, ignoring her completely.
He climbed out through the portrait hole.
Hermione's anger spiked—being ignored was something she simply couldn't stand. She hurried after them.
She kept her voice low as she hissed her complaints.
"You're both so selfish—only thinking about yourselves! What about Gryffindor? I don't want Slytherin winning the House Cup again! Gryffindor must win this year!"
"Move," Harry said flatly.
"Fine! I warned you. If you get expelled and end up on the train home, don't come crying to me!"
She spun around, ready to crawl back through the portrait hole—
And froze.
The Fat Lady's portrait was gone.
Not good. The Fat Lady roamed at night sometimes—but now Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor Tower.
"This is bad… what do we do?" Hermione whispered, her face going pale.
Ron burst into laughter.
"Hah! Figure it out yourself. We're leaving—we're already late!"
Harry and Ron started walking, and Hermione, staring at their retreating backs, gritted her teeth and ran after them.
"I'm coming with you," she said.
"You're not allowed."
"Well I can't just stand out here, can I? Let Filch and Mrs. Norris find me? If we get caught, I'll tell him I was trying to stop you two. And you'd better back me up!"
"You wish," Ron muttered.
"Shh. Be quiet," Harry said sharply. "I heard something."
"No… don't tell me it's Mrs. Norris already! We just got out!" Ron whispered.
They crept forward—
And found a small, round shape lying on the floor.
Neville.
Asleep on the cold stones.
All three of them let out a breath at once, their hearts still pounding.
They moved closer just as Neville jerked awake, sitting up in fright.
/-\
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