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At that critical moment, Harry stepped between the two girls.
"Alright, stop fighting," he said.
As he spoke, Harry found it hard not to break into a sweat. The words came out easily enough, but being caught between two older girls was far from comfortable.
"How about we call this duel a draw?" Harry wiped the perspiration from his brow. "If this keeps up, the Room of Requirement is going to get wrecked!"
Hearing Harry's words, Veratia tucked her wand away.
Seeing Veratia lower her wand, Cassandra slipped hers into the lining of her robe. At the same time, the dark clouds swirling around her gradually dissipated.
The flames flickering around Veratia went out with a soft whoosh, like a gas stove being turned off, fading slowly into nothing.
"I'll admit, Grindelwald," Cassandra said, tilting her chin haughtily, "you're a worthy opponent."
"Thank you," Veratia replied, not angered in the slightest. Instead, she offered an elegant smile.
The members of the Duelling Club surrounding them erupted into wild applause. Hermione clapped enthusiastically, cheering for Veratia's stellar performance. Draco, on the other hand, was in a league of his own, inventing a new cheer by raising both hands and hopping up and down in support of his great-aunt.
Who taught him that?
Ron turned his head away, muttering "sycophant" under his breath, wondering if Draco had picked up that ridiculous cheer from Lucius.
Harry joined in the applause, impressed by the exceptional skills of both girls. After they stepped down, he spoke up again. "Anyone else volunteering for a duel?"
"Weasley!" Draco immediately stepped forward, ruthlessly breaking up Hermione and Ron's duelling partnership. "Come on, let's have a go!"
"You?" Ron sized Draco up from head to toe. "Give me a break. It's not like we haven't dueled before. When have you ever won?"
Draco let out a scornful laugh.
In the past, he would've backed off—knowing when to quit was, after all, a fine Malfoy tradition. But this time was different. Over the holidays, Draco had received private tutoring from Sebastian, and he was feeling confident again. After all, Sebastian was one of the legendary wizards from a century ago, and Draco had genuinely learned a few new tricks.
What he didn't know, however, was that while he had a private tutor, Ron wasn't short on elite one-on-one coaching either. As Gellert Grindelwald's friend, Ron had kept up correspondence with him over the holidays. Gellert seemed to genuinely like the straightforward boy and taught him without holding anything back, offering instruction on whatever Ron wanted to learn.
In this regard, Gellert was far more flexible than Dumbledore, who would never teach powerful dark magic. Of course, Ron wasn't the type to actively seek out dark magic either.
The two boys faced each other on the duelling platform, with the ever-enthusiastic Seamus stepping up to act as referee.
"Listen up, you two," Seamus announced, raising his hand. "Three, two, one—"
The moment Seamus's voice fell, Ron and Draco simultaneously cast curses at each other's faces.
"Sectumsempra!"
"Densaugeo!"
The spells collided in midair, canceling each other out with a fizzle.
"Can you two act a bit more mature?" Seamus shouted, clearly enjoying the chaos. "Stop using first-year spells! Try something from third year!"
As if in response, Draco and Ron shouted in unison, casting the Disarming Charm.
The two traded spells back and forth, their wands flashing in a lively exchange.
"Way to go, Ron!" Seamus and Neville cheered together. "Keep it up! Knock Malfoy off the platform!"
Cassandra's ears twitched slightly at their words.
The duel continued. After forcing Draco back with a blazing Incendio, Ron suddenly flicked his wrist. Draco's wand spun out of his hand and landed in Ron's.
"I win, Malfoy," Ron said with a grin, tossing the wand back to Draco before hopping off the platform to rejoin Hermione.
"Merlin's beard, Ron," Hermione said, astonished. "How did you get this good? I thought you spent the summer in Egypt. Did you practice spells even while traveling?"
"Of course," Ron said, puffing out his chest, basking in Hermione's praise.
The truth was, not everyone spent their holidays practicing duelling, but some had used rather unconventional methods. Take Neville, for example. In his duel with Seamus, he tossed out a small Venomous Tentacula, which promptly chomped down on Seamus's shoulder.
Caught off guard, Seamus yelped in pain. Luckily, Neville had some Dittany on hand to treat the wound.
"You're trying to kill me!" Seamus grumbled at Neville.
"Harry said magical plants are part of duelling too," Neville replied matter-of-factly.
Harry had said that, and he'd even put it into practice. Everyone knew about the time he used a magical plants to attack a professor at Christmas during his first year. Quirrell, of course, hadn't complained—otherwise, he'd have made a fuss by now.
With the addition of two-and-a-half newcomers to the Duelling Club, the atmosphere was livelier than ever. Even though Miss Malfoy seemed unapproachable, Miss Grindelwald's warm, spring-breeze-like demeanor more than made up for it.
The first Duelling Club meeting of the term ended in laughter and cheers. Neville and Ron, who had performed exceptionally, each received a box of Chocolate Frogs sponsored exclusively by Harry. Yes, a whole box—fifty Chocolate Frogs each.
"This should finally get me Agrippa," Ron said gleefully.
As they left the Room of Requirement, a series of chilling screams echoed from downstairs.
"What's going on?" Draco asked, his face pale with alarm.
Screams like that in the middle of the night were, frankly, terrifying.
Hermione's expression faltered, but after listening for a moment, she sighed in relief. "It's probably Peeves. Merlin, is that ghost pulling another prank?"
"A prank like that?" Seamus asked skeptically. "It sounds like Peeves is in serious pain. What's happening to him?"
"Let's go check it out," Cedric suggested. "And, to celebrate our two new members…"
He gave Harry a mischievous wink, clearly having noticed the… stable dynamic between Harry and the two girls. Yes, a triangle is the most stable shape.
"Let's grab something to eat in the kitchen," Cedric added.
No one objected to Cedric's suggestion. Duelling was hard work, and they were at the age where hunger struck easily.
As they reached the fourth floor, they were met with an unforgettable sight.
A young man in Slytherin robes had Peeves pinned to the ground, pummeling the ghost's face with his fists. Peeves squirmed helplessly, wailing in distress.
The portraits around them pointed and whispered, most of them reveling in Peeves's misfortune. After all, the ghost's reputation—or rather, his lack of one—was no secret.
"Oh, Merlin…" Hermione gasped, covering her mouth in shock.
"Oh, Merlin…" Cedric and Megan from Hufflepuff echoed, their tones dripping with schadenfreude.
"Oh, Merlin!" Seamus and Ron exclaimed, their voices full of glee at the spectacle.
Peeves struggled and screamed, a sight that made onlookers gloat and secretly want to cheer.
"Sallow! Can't you let me go?" Peeves wailed.
Sebastian didn't bother responding, continuing to land punch after punch.
"Seems like Slytherin's ghosts have a knack for keeping Peeves in check," Draco said proudly. "Before Mr. Sallow arrived at Hogwarts, the Bloody Baron was Peeves's nemesis. Now, with Mr. Sallow here, they both are."
"Alright, enough gawking," Harry said, ushering them along. "Let's keep moving before Peeves decides to snitch to the professors out of spite."
They made their way to the Hufflepuff common room entrance. As they arrived, Cassandra covered her mouth and let out a soft giggle.
"What's so funny?" Harry asked curiously.
"Oh, I just remembered someone trying to get into the Hufflepuff common room and getting doused with a bucket of vinegar," Cassandra said, glancing at Veratia with a smirk. "For days, the dorm smelled like a pickling vat. Merlin…"
Veratia turned her head away, ignoring Cassandra's trembling laughter.
"Come on, let's head to the kitchen," Harry said.
He approached the kitchen door and tickled the pear in the portrait. The pear giggled coquettishly—yes, a pear somehow managed to giggle coquettishly—and transformed into a door handle.
"It really is ticklish," Ron said, laughing as if he'd discovered a new continent.
The Hogwarts kitchens were located directly beneath the Great Hall, with four tables mirroring the length and position of the house tables above. Even at this hour, house-elves draped in tea towels bustled about, never resting. Some were busy curing sausages, while others chopped meat into fine mince, stuffing it into casings to steam.
In one corner, house-elves hung sausages near a ventilation shaft. The kitchen also housed an impressive collection of teapots and teacups, a testament to the British obsession with afternoon tea.
However… the hygiene in some corners of the Hogwarts kitchen left much to be desired. Harry even spotted a rat nibbling on a pile of food.
"Scabbers!" Ron shouted, rushing over, but the rat scurried away.
"Merlin, he ignored me," Ron said, dejected. "After all the times I've let him sleep in my bed…"
Two house-elves approached, looking up at the group. "Honored young masters and misses, what brings you to the kitchen?" one asked.
"We need some food, Didi," Cedric said. "We've been practicing duelling all evening, and we're starving."
"Diggory, sir!" the house-elf Didi exclaimed. "Right away, sir, Didi will—"
"I think the Hogwarts kitchen could use a good cleaning," Draco said, wrinkling his nose at the corner where Scabbers had been. "What's Dumbledore doing, letting rats dine in here? If my father hears about this, he'll be furious!"
For once, everyone agreed with Draco. Even Ron nodded, hoping Draco would do more than just complain. It wasn't just Scabbers—there were other, unfamiliar rats. If it was only Scabbers, Ron might've let it slide, but the others…
"You're something else, Weasley," Draco said, giving Ron a look of disbelief. "Sleeping with a rat? Merlin…"
"He's my pet!" Ron shot back. "You wouldn't get it, Malfoy. Ask Hermione—she cuddles Crookshanks, doesn't she?"
To Ron's dismay, Hermione betrayed him.
"Oh, no, Ronald," she said, her face full of disgust. "As much as I love Crookshanks, I don't sleep with him. Small animals are fragile—one wrong move, and you could crush them."
"That's impossible!" Ron protested. "Scabbers has been with our family for twelve years! If he was that fragile, he'd be long gone!"
"Twelve years?" Draco burst out laughing. "Weasley, you need a Healer. Seriously—go see Madam Pomfrey and get your head checked. No ordinary rat lives for twelve years!"
"Not worth arguing with you, Malfoy," Ron said, rolling his eyes. He decided not to stoop to the level of the inherently wicked Malfoy—it would only ruin his mood.
The kitchen's midnight spread was impressive. To Ron's surprise, when the house-elves heard about his stellar duelling performance, they fried up several large drumsticks just for him—not puny ones, but proper, hefty drumsticks.
"Now I get why Scabbers comes here to eat," Hermione teased. "He's as greedy as you are."
Ron shrugged, unbothered. What was wrong with enjoying a couple of drumsticks?
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