The first meeting of the Duelists' Club was both a failure and a triumph.
It flopped because the host, Lockhart, landed himself in the hospital wing after a spell gone wrong. But it succeeded because Dudley stepped in and turned the event into a massive hit.
Under the Discipline Committee's guidance, the young witches and wizards got a solid grasp of what dueling was all about. The paired duels that followed went off without a hitch, thanks to two actual professors—Snape and Flitwick—keeping things under control. Unlike Lockhart's flashy nonsense, they were the real deal, stepping in to prevent any mishaps from wayward spells.
As the first Duelists' Club meeting wrapped up, students from every House left buzzing with excitement, already asking Dudley and the others when the next one would be. The Discipline Committee could only tell them to keep an eye on the notice board.
After the event, Dudley pulled Harry aside, gesturing for them to step outside the castle for a private chat.
Hogwarts at night was breathtaking. The starry sky glittered above, unmarred by the light pollution you'd find in a Muggle city. As they strolled across the castle's outer lawn, a gentle breeze brushing past, Dudley noticed Harry's reluctance to open up. Finally, he broke the silence.
"Harry, come on. Talk to me. I think we brothers shouldn't keep secrets from each other."
"It's… nothing," Harry mumbled, staring at his shoes, clearly uncomfortable.
"Nothing, really?" Dudley shook his head. "You always look at your shoelaces when you're lying, not people's eyes. I know you better than you know yourself."
"If you tell me what's up, I might be able to help. You know what I'm capable of."
Harry still wouldn't budge, and Dudley felt a pang of disappointment.
Harry, you've changed. You didn't used to be like this.
"Harry, we're brothers," Dudley pressed.
"D-Bro…" Harry's face twisted, a mix of struggle and embarrassment. His cheeks flushed red—whether from nerves or something else—and in a voice barely louder than a mosquito's hum, he said, "I… I think I like a girl."
"What?"
Dudley heard him, but the words caught him off guard.
"You're saying you're in love?"
"Shh!" Harry's face turned even redder, from his ears down to his neck. He waved his hands frantically. "Keep it down, D-Bro! You want the whole castle to hear?"
"What's there to hide? If you like someone, just own it," Dudley said casually, scratching his chin.
Twelve years old. Harry was at that age where a first crush made sense.
"What House is she in?"
"There's an old saying from the ancient East: 'When you meet a girl you like, a true gentleman chases her boldly.'"
Harry immediately shot back, "Don't try to trick me, D-Bro. The ancient East is known for being reserved. No way they'd have a saying that bold."
Dudley raised an eyebrow. "So, she's got some roots in that ancient Eastern land, huh?"
Harry froze, startled.
Nothing gets past D-Bro.
Seeing how spot-on Dudley's guess was, Harry sighed and came clean.
"Ravenclaw. Cho Chang."
"The third-year girl?" Dudley pictured Cho in his mind.
To be honest, Cho was pretty cute—way better-looking than her movie version. No squinting eyes, no awkwardly spaced features. One thing to clarify: Cho wasn't some exchange student who traveled thousands of miles from that ancient Eastern land to attend Hogwarts. The East had its own magical schools; there was no need to come to Hogwarts. Cho was British through and through, a wizard of descent, born and raised in England.
Harry's heart sank, worried Dudley might disapprove. If that was the case, he'd have to let this crush go, no matter how much it hurt.
But Dudley wasn't about to object to his little brother crushing on an older girl. One year's difference was nothing. As the saying goes, "A girl three years older brings gold, thirty years older brings a kingdom, three hundred years older brings an elixir, and three thousand years older makes you a god."
While Harry was agonizing over how to give up on Cho, Dudley asked, "So, how's it going between you two?"
"Huh?"
Seeing Harry's confusion, Dudley pressed, "What stage are you at? Confession? Holding hands? Kissing? Or… further?"
Man, I've been slacking as a big brother. I didn't even notice he was in love.
Harry went quiet for a moment before, under Dudley's expectant gaze, he confessed, "I just know her name's Cho Chang, and she's in Ravenclaw… She probably doesn't even know who I am."
Now it was Dudley's turn to go silent.
So, this was a classic case of unrequited love?
"Pfft."
A faint sound escaped, like someone trying—and failing—to hold back a laugh.
"So, how long are you gonna pine after her?" Dudley asked, exasperated.
"Huh?"
Harry got a bad feeling about where this was going.
No way…
"When did you figure it out?" Hermione's voice, clear as a lark's, rang out as she appeared right in front of Harry.
Disillusionment Charm—a spell that rendered the user invisible.
Technically, like the Shield Charm, it was one of the spells Aurors were expected to master (whether they actually did was another matter). At Hogwarts, it was a high-level spell, typically taught in fifth year or later.
Harry tried to console himself that at least it was just Hermione who'd overheard.
Then came a whoosh, like a curtain being yanked away. Malfoy, Ron, and Neville appeared, huddled together, holding a shimmering, transparent cloak.
My Invisibility Cloak?!
That meant they'd heard everything. Harry froze, as if hit with a Petrification Charm.
"Spells and Invisibility Cloaks can hide you from sight, but heartbeats, footsteps, and breathing? Those are way too obvious. To me, it's no different from seeing you," Dudley explained. He'd noticed them ages ago but hadn't called them out.
"We were just worried about Harry," the trio said in unison.
In that moment, Harry felt himself turning to stone, his world going gray.
"Let's all pitch in and help Harry out," Hermione suggested.
At that, Harry's eyes lit up, the color returning to his face. If they could help him win Cho over… maybe this wasn't so bad.
Harry, it seemed, had very flexible principles.