Edward knew exactly what little scheme Malfoy was cooking up.
But his own actions earlier had a touch of theatrics too.
On one hand, he genuinely couldn't resist the word "duel." It was like some ancient memory in his blood had been stirred.
His ancestor, Bedivere, the last surviving Knight of the Round Table, had witnessed the tragic final duel between King Arthur and Mordred at Camlann Hill.
The Manual of the Magical Knight he'd read was also filled with tales of duels between knights.
Of course, dueling itself was honorable, but the methods used in duels could sometimes be—well, as Merlin put it—less than knightly.
For example, some knights enchanted their weapons to snap back to their original position after a swing, allowing for rapid, unexpected follow-up strikes.
They even had a name for this spell: the "Cancel Curse."
On the other hand, Edward desperately wanted these young wizards to understand what a duel really meant.
A duel—properly called an "honor duel"—was a battle fought for truth, glory, freedom, and courtesy, a shining symbol of chivalry.
But it also often meant life or death.
Edward's father, William, had drilled countless lessons about dueling into him from a young age. He knew it wasn't something young wizards should throw around lightly.
The clock soon struck midnight.
Malfoy had been sulking since dinner, unable to shake Edward's watchful eye. He'd even considered hiding out in Snape's office to avoid him.
Facing Snape seemed better than being "dragged" into a duel by Edward.
But sometimes, people's minds change quickly—especially for someone as adaptable as a Malfoy.
A duel? So what? I've got the most talented first-year as my backup. What's there to fear? Potter and Weasley against Edward? Please.
Breaking school rules? Edward can just earn the points back.
Getting caught and sent to detention? Detention with Edward doesn't sound that bad.
As long as he didn't do anything too outrageous, Edward wouldn't pick on him.
With that thought, Malfoy's confidence came rushing back.
"It's eleven-thirty. Time to go," Edward said.
He and Malfoy dressed, grabbed their wands, and crept into the Slytherin common room.
The faint glow of dying embers cast an eerie silver-green light over the room.
Malfoy could almost hear the waves of the Black Lake lapping in his ears.
"Ready to head out, gentlemen?"
Daphne's voice drifted softly from a shadowy sofa.
"Daphne, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" Malfoy clutched his chest, grumbling loudly.
"Are you here to stop us or join us?" Edward asked quietly.
"Join you in breaking school rules? Pass. As for stopping you, unlike some people, I don't meddle in other people's business. Believe it or not, I'm just previewing the Forgetfulness Potion," Daphne said.
"Oh, and didn't someone this afternoon say whoever goes is an idiot?"
Malfoy blinked, his pale face flushing slightly.
"That was then, this is now. With Edward here, I've got nothing to fear," he said, trying to justify himself.
Daphne didn't seem to care for his explanation.
"Good luck, gentlemen," she said, picking up her book and tossing her blonde hair as she headed back to the dorms.
"Believe it or not, Daphne didn't used to be like this. When I first met her, she was quiet and reserved. No idea who turned her into this," Malfoy muttered as he left the common room.
Climbing from the underground Slytherin common room to the fourth-floor trophy room, Edward moved with ease, while the scrawny Malfoy was clearly out of breath.
"Wait… wait for me, Edward. How… how do you move so fast?"
"You need to work out, Draco. I can train with you," Edward said, practically dragging Malfoy down the fourth-floor corridor.
Thanks to his keen instincts, Edward chose a route where even the portraits were fast asleep. Moonlight streamed through the windows, casting a glow on the trophy cases, making the cups, shields, medals, and statues—gold and silver alike—shine in all sorts of shapes.
Harry and Ron were nowhere to be seen in the trophy room.
Malfoy nervously drew his wand, half-expecting Harry to leap out from somewhere.
Edward, on the other hand, was relaxed, casually inspecting the trophies.
Hogwarts Special Contribution Award—Tom Marvolo Riddle.
This was the second time he'd seen that name. Earlier, he'd noticed a Good Conduct Award with the same name.
Two awards, one name. Maybe this Riddle was someone like him?
If only he'd read the Harry Potter books or seen the movies—he might know who this Riddle was.
Edward couldn't help but think.
Before he could examine every trophy, hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor outside.
Malfoy instinctively stepped back, positioning himself in front of Edward.
Harry and Ron appeared at the door, followed by two unexpected figures: a fuming Hermione and a timid Neville.
They locked eyes with Malfoy and Edward.
"I should've known you'd cheat, Potter! Weasley!"
"You even brought Granger, that mud—"
"And Longbottom, that clumsy—"
Malfoy started to hurl insults but swallowed his words when Edward shot him a sharp glance.
"You're cheating!" he finished lamely.
"Malfoy, don't be so petty. Hermione and Neville being here was an accident. It's just the four of us for the duel," Ron said, immediately regretting his words. Even with Hermione and Neville, he doubted he and Harry could take on their opponents.
And it wasn't Malfoy he was scared of—it was Edward, standing in front of him.
"And Malfoy, whatever dark magic you used on Edward, undo it now!" Harry said fiercely, mustering his courage.
Malfoy looked utterly confused, but Edward burst out laughing.
"Let's clear something up. I'm not under any kind of spell from Draco. I'm here tonight of my own free will," Edward said.
"But instead of a duel, I'd rather you all understand what a wizard's duel really means."
His voice was soft, but every person in the trophy room heard him clearly.
"To make sure you take dueling seriously from now on, I think we need to change tonight's format."
"No more two-on-two. It's me against all five of you."