After the morning run, Douglas invited Lupin to join him for breakfast in his office, but Lupin politely declined.
Douglas just smiled, not pressing the matter.
When he returned to his office, he found that Dobby had already set the breakfast table. Sirius was there too—still in his Animagus form, gazing out the window as a big black dog.
As soon as Douglas entered, Sirius shifted back into human form, slumped into a chair by the tea table, and managed a wan smile.
"Just now... Remus... was he all right?" he asked quietly.
Douglas grabbed a steamed bun and replied,
"I invited him for breakfast, but he turned me down. Judging by his reaction, he's carrying a lot on his shoulders."
Sirius stared out the window, silent for a long time.
Douglas let him be. Turning to Dobby with a cheerful grin, he said,
"Dobby, would you pop over to the Daily Prophet later and bring back our Galleons?"
At the mention of Galleons, Wangcai—who'd been napping in the treasure bowl—shot out like a bolt, perching on Douglas's shoulder and peering around eagerly.
Dobby happily produced a Galleon and handed it to Wangcai.
"Good morning, Wangcai."
Wangcai snatched the coin and, in a surprisingly friendly gesture, shook Dobby's hand—something he'd learned from Harry.
—
Meanwhile, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast, they immediately spotted Draco Malfoy sulking at the Slytherin table.
Harry and Ron made a show of strolling past, Ron loudly declaring,
"What? You said, 'What does he think he is?'"
Ron then pulled a look of mock terror and dashed away, shrieking.
The surrounding students looked bewildered—but Draco's expression soured even further.
He stood abruptly, glanced at the staff table (noticing Douglas was absent), and shouted angrily,
"Potter! If you've got any guts, stop hiding behind Professor Holmes. Dare to face me wizard to wizard—"
He didn't get to finish. Ron cut in with a sneer,
"Malfoy, have you forgotten what happened two years ago? Oh, I guess you really have, or you wouldn't be repeating yourself.
Draco Malfoy, you ran away from a duel—you never had the nerve to show up."
Even the Slytherins gave Draco looks of open disdain.
For a moment, Draco was too flustered to respond. He'd once been proud of tricking Harry with that midnight duel in first year, thinking he'd outsmarted a fool. But when the Slytherin upper-years found out, they'd given him a thorough dressing-down. To pure-blood pride, a duel challenge was sacred—you faced it head-on, no matter how cunning you were. No Slytherin would tolerate someone sullying the honor of wizard duels.
Just as Draco was left speechless, Pansy Parkinson swooped in, dragging him back to his seat and saying shrilly,
"Don't listen to them, Draco. An orphan who suddenly finds a powerful relative is bound to go a bit mad with excitement..."
Suddenly, George and Fred bounded over—one slinging an arm around Harry's neck, the other around Ron's—and called out to Draco,
"Oh, you really ought to show some sympathy for the faint-hearted."
"When the Dementors boarded the train yesterday, Malfoy dove headfirst into our compartment."
"Nearly wet himself..."
Fred shot Draco a look of pure contempt, leaving him trembling with rage.
Harry let out a long, exaggerated "Ohhh—
Now I finally get why he never showed up for that midnight duel. He's just scared of the dark... and a bit of a coward."
Ron added, blinking innocently,
"And in the Forbidden Forest, Malfoy was the first to bolt, wasn't he...?"
The group's banter left Malfoy shaking uncontrollably.
Worst of all, even the Slytherin upper-years looked uncertain about intervening. After all, Draco had brought this on himself—weak and always picking fights.
At that moment, Hermione rushed over and whispered,
"Professor Snape's coming!"
The crowd scattered like startled birds, the Great Hall returning to a picture of perfect harmony.
Back at the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ron burst out laughing. Fred and George joined them, grinning from ear to ear.
The twins squeezed in on either side of Harry and Ron, glancing at Hermione (who was chatting with Ginny), then carefully opened their robes to reveal several rolls of parchment tucked inside.
Harry noticed that each roll was labeled with a number—two, three, four, five.
"Remember the terror of the entrance exam?"
"Want to be the next Defence Against the Dark Arts class rep?"
"Parchment scrolls for the opening exam..."
"Become Professor Holmes's favorite student..."
Harry and Ron's eyes widened. Ron reached for the scroll marked "three."
Smack!
George slapped his hand away.
Fred, all sincerity, announced,
"Ten Knuts a scroll..."
"Fair price for everyone..."
Ron gaped,
"But I'm your brother!"
George and Fred exchanged a look, replying coolly,
"Just a brother—not a sister."
Harry hesitated, then said awkwardly,
"Sorry, I'm not buying. But if you're really desperate, I could donate ten Knuts. You know how strict my uncle is—if he finds out, he might not let me visit next summer."
Ron grumbled,
"Don't look at me—I'm broke!"
George and Fred gazed at the two unambitious lads in utter disappointment, then each tossed them a scroll.
Quickly, the twins moved on to their next target.
Ron, delighted, said,
"Knew they wouldn't ignore their own brother. Harry, you're lucky to know me..."
But as soon as they unrolled the parchments, both boys froze.
They weren't exam answers at all—just their new class schedules.
The two were speechless.
Ron glanced at his timetable, then got up and peered over Hermione's shoulder at hers, frowning.
"They've made a mess of your schedule. Nearly ten classes a day—how are you supposed to manage that?"
Hermione replied breezily,
"I'll manage. I've already sorted it out with Professor McGonagall."
The conversation drew Harry over as well. He glanced at Hermione's timetable and frowned.
"You've got Divination, Muggle Studies, and Arithmancy all at nine o'clock this morning... Hermione, I know you're brilliant, but how can you be in three classrooms at once?"
Ron burst out laughing,
"Unless she splits herself into three and sits in all the classes at the same time—ha!"
Hermione shot him a glare and pointed at the marmalade.
"Pass the marmalade."
Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione cut him off sharply,
"Honestly, my schedule is my business. I've already cleared it with Professor McGonagall...
Thank you, Harry."
She took the marmalade from Harry.
Harry nudged Ron and whispered,
"Drop it!"
After a summer together, he knew—when Hermione didn't want to talk, you'd better not push, or you'd trigger her temper. He'd learned that lesson the hard way—thanks to his uncle's advice.
Just then, Ginny chimed in with a grin,
"You two didn't actually buy George and Fred's answers, did you?"
Ron and Harry glanced at Hermione, who was calmly eating her breakfast, utterly unconcerned.
Without even turning around, Hermione scoffed,
"What are you staring at? Not only do I know, Percy knows too.
Honestly, what kind of answers do you think they're selling? Professor Holmes's exams are never that simple.
You didn't waste your money, did you?"
Ron and Harry shook their heads furiously.
Ginny grinned,
"They gave me a copy, actually. Hermione checked it for me—turns out those questions were from Professor Holmes's entrance exam last year.
But knowing his habits, he'll definitely change the test this term.
So I'm not wasting time memorizing those answers. I just hope they don't go too far—if Mum finds out, they'll be in real trouble.
Even Percy can't bring himself to rat them out this time..."
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, then looked over to see the twins enthusiastically hawking their "answers" to Neville.
And there was Percy, deep in conversation with the Head Girl—choosing, for once, to look the other way.
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