Damn. It was four chapters. I'm uploading them now.
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The Honor of a Son and the Rage of a Coward
While they were having dinner, Carrow approached, flanked by Goyle and Crabbe, who trailed behind him with their usual vacant expressions. Carrow himself wore an arrogant, self-satisfied smile as he swept his gaze over those present, as if appraising their worth.
"But look at this… the blood traitors," he began in a greasy voice, lifting his chin with haughty disdain. "Who would have imagined that three ancient and ancestral families would end up anywhere other than Slytherin? Oh, right… Potter, your family doesn't even count as pure-blood anymore since your father made the mistake of marrying your mother. My father always said she was a filthy Mudblood."
Daphne, Draco, and Hermione, who until that moment had been trying to ignore him while calmly eating, all looked up at once, worried about Harry's reaction.
Harry set his cutlery on the table without hurry. With a measured gesture, he wiped his lips with his napkin and turned around, his expression so serenely composed that for an instant, Carrow completely lost track of what he was saying.
"And tell me…" Harry replied in absolute calm, meeting his gaze without a trace of fear. "Which of your cousins did your father marry? Or was it his sister? His mother? Your grandmother?"
A cutting silence fell over the entire Ravenclaw table. Several students clapped hands over their mouths to keep from bursting into laughter. Even Daphne and Draco, who came from proudly pure lineages and knew perfectly well about the practices of marrying cousins and other relatives to 'keep the blood untainted,' had to duck their heads to contain themselves.
Carrow turned red as a tomato, clenching his fists as he trembled with indignation.
"You… you filthy half-blood!" he spat, his voice quivering as though he were on the verge of drawing his wand.
"Am I lying?" Harry asked, his voice as tranquil as before.
Carrow took a deep breath before launching another wave of disdain.
"You think you're so important, Potter. Do you really believe we're afraid of your so-called mother? Only the weak fear her. Neither Dumbledore nor the Dark Lord think she matters. She's nothing but a common witch with connections… maybe she has some odd powers, but she couldn't stand against all the pure-blood families of England if we decided to come after her."
For an instant, Harry's green eyes seemed to flicker with a faint red glow that froze Carrow's voice in his throat.
"I'm quite certain," Harry said with iron calm, "that not even every wizard in the world combined could stand against her if she truly decided to act."
Carrow frowned, searching for something else to say, until a glint of malice lit up his gaze.
"You're just an adopted son, probably taken in for your family's money. A wizard without wealth is still a nobody. I challenge you to a duel at midnight."
Harry tilted his head slightly.
"First: she has far more than your family could ever dream of. Second: I'm not accepting your stupid challenge. Why should I? There's nothing to gain by crushing your pathetic existence… except maybe trouble when they find your corpse lying in a corridor. I won't ruin my future over trash that isn't worth it."
His words fell on everyone with a weight that left several mouths hanging open. The silence grew so dense it was possible to hear the faint clink of cutlery against plates.
"That's because you're a coward!" Carrow blurted immediately, his voice rising a couple of pitches.
"Mmm… perhaps some people would think that. Though, honestly, I couldn't care less."
With that, Harry rose from his seat in a movement so composed that, without meaning to, he drew the attention of everyone in the Great Hall, including several professors who had just arrived at the staff table.
Carrow stood frozen, realizing how every gaze was fixed on them. He didn't understand that it was happening for two reasons: first, Harry was the Boy Who Lived, and anything he did caused a stir. And second, the quiet aura of power he exuded every time he spoke seemed to fill the air with a magnetic pull no one could ignore.
Then Harry raised his voice with clarity, his firm, steady tone echoing to the farthest corners of the hall.
"I, Harry James Maximoff Potter, accept Luis Carrow's duel for the honor of my family and my blood."
The murmuring that followed was like a restrained roar. Many craned their necks to watch, fascinated. Carrow, on the other hand, felt his stomach twist as he realized his stupid plan to set Potter up had just turned against him. Before, he had intended to tip Filch off and have Harry punished for wandering the castle at night. Now everyone had heard the challenge, and he knew perfectly well he had no chance against the student who, in just a week, had already earned dozens of points for his House.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Carrow, what is the meaning of this?" asked Professor McGonagall in a grave voice as she strode over, her hawk-like gaze fixed on them.
Carrow opened his mouth, searching for some excuse, but Harry was faster.
"I'm sorry for interrupting dinner, Professor. The young Carrow came here to insult my mother, my family, and my friends, before challenging me to a duel. Although I refused at first, he insisted so much that I had no choice but to accept. Please don't worry… it won't be to the death. According to the rules, there is nothing forbidding a duel between students as long as there are no serious injuries. I believe it would be prudent to have a teacher present as a witness as well."
For a moment, McGonagall was silent, surprised by how perfectly articulated the explanation was. Harry spoke with such composure it was impossible to call him impulsive or aggressive.
Indeed, as long as no one was gravely harmed, she couldn't forbid a duel for honor… even if it hadn't happened in decades.
Carrow began to sweat coldly when he saw she didn't immediately answer. His eyes darted around, searching for a way out. Then, fortunately—or unfortunately—Snape appeared between the tables.
"It seems Mr. Potter's words are true," Snape said in a measured voice as he approached with his hands clasped behind his back. "If that is so, I will serve as the arbiter and supervisor to ensure no serious injuries occur. However…" he added, turning his head slightly toward Harry, "I believe a duel just one week after classes have started could be… premature. Beginners' spells are often more dangerous than they appear."
Carrow's shoulders relaxed instantly.
"In that case…" Harry intervened, a cold glint in his eyes, "I propose we set the date for one month from now. That way, young Carrow will have plenty of time to practice, if he thinks he needs it."
"Perfect," Snape pronounced with a slight nod. "One month it is. Now, return to your seats."
"Yes, Professor," Carrow mumbled before hurrying away so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet.
Little by little, the noise returned to the Great Hall. Conversations flared up like a contained fire as everyone began whispering about what had just happened.
And in the middle of all that expectant buzz, Harry sat back down with the same serene composure as before, as if the entire incident had been nothing more than a trivial annoyance.
…
"Ahahaha! You actually did it," Daphne said between fits of laughter, clutching her stomach as she bent over the table. There were still tears in her eyes from Carrow's expression before he ran off.
"When you act like that… you're a little scary," Hermione commented with a nervous smile, though there was clear pride gleaming in her eyes.
"With nobility and proper etiquette?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow as he offered her a calm smile.
"I think she means you sound like a bloody psychopath," Draco added in a mocking tone, propping an elbow on the table and crossing his arms.
Harry let out a short sigh, as if he were used to hearing that sort of accusation.
"My godfather once told me exactly that," he admitted matter-of-factly. "So I studied a book on rhetoric and intimidation psychology… just to annoy him every time I saw him. Who would've thought it would actually come in handy one day?"
Draco blinked at him, looking genuinely incredulous.
"Did you seriously read a psychology book just to piss off your godfather?" he asked, both eyebrows climbing up.
"Harry puts a lot of effort into scaring away the flies buzzing around his mother… even if it's his own godfather," Daphne teased, watching him with obvious amusement.
Hermione lifted a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle, while Draco folded his arms again, wearing a resigned look of disbelief. All three of them shot Harry the same expression that unmistakably said mama's boy.
"You're all insufferable," Harry muttered, picking up his pace with a show of annoyance. But his ears, which turned as red as cherries, betrayed him completely.
The three of them exchanged glances, then burst out laughing as they hurried after him down the corridor lit by flickering torchlight.