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Harry did not answer immediately.
He studied at Malfoy before him, who seemed to have been reborn, then let his gaze drift to his friends, whose faces were tangled with conflicting emotions. At last, he gave a slow nod.
"Alright," he said with quiet steadiness. "I accept."
Ron's mouth had already started to open and Hermione's brow had drawn tight, both of them clearly ready to object.
But before either of them could speak, Harry lifted a hand to cut off their protests and added calmly, "But I name Professor Greengrass to act as witness."
"No problem." Malfoy inclined his head with brisk finality. "But I should warn you, the professor may send his raven to stand in for him."
"That's fine," Harry replied with the same measured ease.
Without another word, Malfoy turned on his heel and strode away with Goyle close at his side, leaving Harry and the others standing in the corridor, staring at one another in silence.
"Harry, you shouldn't have agreed to that!" Hermione's voice carried a sharp mix of worry and urgency. "This Malfoy is acting far too strangely. I am even starting to wonder if he might be someone else who took Polyjuice Potion and is only pretending to be him."
"Polyjuice Potion?" Harry and Ron spoke almost in unison, their faces blank with confusion. "What is that supposed to be?"
Neville blinked in surprise as well, clearly just as unfamiliar with the term.
Hermione suddenly spun on them, her earlier anxiety flashing into open disbelief before hardening into full-blown anger. "Polyjuice Potion… Professor Snape explained it in Potions class. It is a brew that allows the drinker to take on someone else's appearance for a time."
Her voice rose without her even realizing it. "Were you paying no attention in class at all? What on earth were you doing if you managed to miss something that important?"
"Oh, come on, Hermione," Ron muttered, his shoulders hunching as though to shield himself from her fury. "During Potions, there are plenty of things more interesting than hanging on to every single word Snape drones on about."
"What do you think?" she shot back, eyes narrowing.
For a heartbeat, Ron thought her glare was fiercer than Snape's own.
He slumped at once and lowered his head, every trace of bravado gone.
Harry had been ready to back Ron up, but the moment he opened his mouth, Hermione's gaze met his, hard and unyielding like a full Body-Bind Curse, and the words died in his throat. He wisely swallowed them down and cleared his throat instead.
"Ahem." He tried to pull the conversation back on track. "Hermione, you are right. Malfoy… he is definitely suspicious. But with Professor Greengrass as a witness, he will not have much of a chance to pull anything."
Harry paused, his fingers absently rubbing at the leather of his wand holster while he thought it through. "And if you think about it carefully, ever since Professor Greengrass put him in detention, he really has reined himself in a great deal."
"How do you know that isn't an act?" Hermione shot back, her voice sharp with determination. "What if this 'change of heart' is nothing more than a disguise meant to trick us?"
The more she thought about it, the more unsettled she became. "And what about what he said… that he defeated every Slytherin second-year, even Crabbe and Goyle? Where is Crabbe, then? Why was he not with him today? That alone is suspicious enough."
"But I have already agreed," Harry said with a small shrug, his tone carrying a hint of helplessness, though his eyes remained firm.
"Professor Greengrass's raven…" Neville suddenly spoke up in a near whisper. "People say it is like his second pair of eyes. If it really comes, Malfoy will not dare to play any tricks, will he?"
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As the end of term crept closer, the shadow of exams settled over Hogwarts. The castle seemed to breathe parchment and ink as students buried themselves in towering stacks of books and endless rolls of notes, cramming every spare moment with frantic, last-minute study.
Yet, in the midst of this oppressive atmosphere of revision, a single rumor began to slip from corridor to corridor. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, acknowledged by many as the brightest students of their year in Gryffindor and Slytherin respectively, were said to be preparing for a duel in just one week's time.
The days slid past, tucked into the tight spaces between weary study sessions.
Every now and then, the castle managed to offer a burst of comic relief. One student attempted a charm to smooth the pimples on his face and instead managed to wipe away his entire nose. Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey restored it with her usual calm efficiency, the missing feature settling back into place as though it had never been gone.
Professor Lumina provided her own share of gossip when word spread that she had once again enchanted Filch's mop. Students whispered with barely concealed laughter that this version might finally avoid the embarrassing mishaps of her earlier attempts.
And then there was Hagrid, perhaps the most surprising sight of all. One morning he appeared freshly clean-shaven, his wild beard gone and his thick hair combed into neat order with the unmistakable touch of magic.
His clothes had changed as well. Students swore they had seen him striding across the grounds in a perfectly pressed suit that made his already massive frame look even broader and more commanding. He moved about in a strangely furtive way, muttering to himself under his breath, though everyone was far too busy with exams to dwell long on whatever secret he might be keeping.
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Finally, the day of the duel arrived.
Evening light spread across the ancient stone walls of Hogwarts, washing them in a pale gold that shimmered like the last breath of sunset.
On the elevated dueling platform, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy stood facing each other.
Students who had caught wind of the match packed the courtyard until the space throbbed with hushed excitement. The crimson and gold of Gryffindor and the silver and green of Slytherin formed two clear tides pressing against either side of the platform.
Ron and Hermione stood shoulder to shoulder at the very front of the Gryffindor crowd. Ron swallowed hard nervously, his fists clenching tight, while Hermione's gaze slid past the two boys to the edge of the platform where a tall bronze lamp post rose like a watchtower.
Perched at its peak rested Mr. Noctis.
The raven looked as though it had been carved from obsidian, its black feathers gleaming in the fading light, its eyes fixed and unreadable as it regarded the platform below.
In truth, once a duel began upon this platform, no further witnesses were required. Yet, to leave no margin for doubt, Harry and his companions had still invited this singular "overseer" to stand watch.
There was no professor to maintain order, nor was there any lengthy reading of rules.
When the raven tilted its small black head and fixed its gaze on the center of the stage, a deep hush swept through the crowd.
Random Terrain!
The ground trembled. The stone stele sank with a low rumble while short walls sprang upward, shaping the arena in an instant.
Malfoy did not hesitate. His wand rose in a swift, textbook motion with a speed that startled even those who knew him well.
"Stupefy!"
A dazzling streak of red light ripped through the evening air, arrowing straight for Harry's chest.
It was a standard Stunning Spell, yet the force behind it felt sharper and faster than any Malfoy had ever cast before, a surge of power that carried a fierce and almost reckless intent.
Harry reacted the instant he caught the motion of Malfoy's arm. He pivoted smoothly, sliding a half-step to the side while his own wand swept upward in a swift diagonal arc.
"Protego!"
The Shield Charm blossomed just in time. The red beam slammed into the invisible barrier and exploded in a shower of sparks so bright they lit the darkening sky, the impact sending a jolt through Harry's arm that made him stagger back a half step.
"Locomotor Mortis! Levicorpus!"
Malfoy's follow-up came without even a heartbeat between, the second and third spells snapping from his wand in a seamless chain.
Harry answered even faster. He dropped into a roll, the curses skimming so close that he felt the heat brush the top of his scalp before they hissed into the empty air behind him. He came out of the tumble with a sharp twist of his wrist, sending a jet of white light streaking straight for Malfoy's head.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Malfoy did not dive aside as Harry had. He simply held his ground and slashed his wand in a downward stroke.
"Protego Maxima!"
A wall of dense force sprang up, the petrifying spell striking it with a muffled thud that left behind only faint ripples before fading away.
Their exchange quickly blurred into a rhythm too quick for the eye to follow, attack folding into counter, and counter flowing back into attack.
Malfoy's spellcasting was unnervingly smooth, each motion measured and deliberate, carrying the weight of meticulous training. It seems the rumor had been true: he had written to his father, who in turn had appealed to Snape, and Snape had drilled him in private sessions until every movement carried a professor's exacting precision.
Gone were the sly underhanded tricks he once relied on in the past. Now he pressed his advantage through the sheer mastery of spellwork.
Harry's style could not have been more different. His spells cut in from odd angles, quick and sly, guided by a Seeker's reflexes and a wild, instinctive sense of timing.
He slid behind the low stone barriers, sprang into rolls, and struck from cover as if the dueling platform were a Quidditch pitch. His shield charms, Protego and its heavier cousins, flared again and again, raised with masterful speed and timing, each one catching or turning aside Malfoy's fierce attacks.
Bolts of light crisscrossed the stage, exploding against the waist-high walls with sharp cracks and bursts of color. The air rang with the clash of magic, a rapid staccato of sparks and echoing impacts that rattled the ears.
Around the platform the crowd leaned in, watching with rapt attention. Every daring dodge and counterattack from Harry drew a fresh roar from Gryffindor, while the Slytherins, though equally gripped by the duel, remained quiet, their eyes fixed on Malfoy.
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[Chapter End's]
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