"You all endured McGillis-senpai's endless rant," Azrael said, walking with Harry and Ron as they escorted Hermione and Luna back to their dorms. "That's the real surprise."
McGillis's revelation that Salazar Slytherin left the Chamber of Secrets to purge Muggle-borns heightened fears, especially for Hermione. Harry and the others worried she'd be targeted, prompting their protective escort.
"My brother caused trouble," Ron said, sour-faced. "I stuck around as compensation."
Attending a lecture praising purebloodism while disparaging Gryffindor naturally irked Ron. "Gryffindor killing Muggles in duels was just the era," Harry said, echoing Banarge. "It's excusable."
Harry couldn't deny a flicker of glee at McGillis's words. Learning Salazar Slytherin was a ruthless wizard hurt, but Godric Gryffindor wasn't a saint either. For Slytherins like Harry, constant vilification stung, so Gryffindor's fall to their level felt oddly satisfying. Yet, guilt gnawed at him as he reassured Ron, recalling Zabini's words: "He's with us."
Even if Harry hadn't acted, Ron shared the unease Slytherins felt from Percy's and Gryffindor's judgment. "McGillis says a lot," Harry said, "but Slytherins discriminate against Muggle-borns because they're a minority among wizards."
"Ron, you hit the nail on the head," Azrael said.
Harry confided in Ron. "Purebloods marry within, so their numbers stay low—a minority. Slytherin purebloods don't want to feel sidelined, so they target Muggle-borns, the smaller minority, to feel dominant."
"That's pathetic," Ron said, cutting through Slytherin's selfishness.
Azrael nodded, wincing. "Could you not say that in front of Slytherins? There's peer pressure, you know…"
Ron's face twisted in anger but relented. Instead, he shared Gryffindor's perspective. "We're hard on Slytherins because bullying needs an immediate response. If you don't call out unfair prejudice, bullies get cocky."
Harry and Luna averted their eyes. Harry felt filthy for stringing up Colin, unworthy of Ron's shining Gryffindor resolve. I'm a vile Slytherin, the kind Ron despises.
A dark wish surfaced—that Ron could be more like them. If Ron had been there when Dudley hit me… Harry hated himself for thinking it and turned to Hermione. "You faced McGillis head-on. Weren't you scared?"
"Honestly, I was," Hermione said. "He's a pureblood advocate, maybe the Heir or close to them, wanting to purge Muggle-borns."
Her eyes burned with resolve. "But you don't learn without listening. Purebloodists like Malfoy are always surrounded, hard to talk to. I'm glad I was brave—it showed me how they think."
"Don't dive too deep, Hermione," Azrael warned. "McGillis is kind to Slytherin underclassmen, but he's a toxic pureblood radical in the common room. He indoctrinated Eli Brown to target Colin."
"Seriously?" Ron gasped.
"No way…" Harry added.
"He's nice to us because we're Slytherin friends," Harry said. "He could still be tied to the Heir."
"But he's chummy with Banarge-senpai," Ron said.
"Banarge's family is wealthy, even by my standards," Azrael said. "It's strategic to stay close."
"McGillis didn't seem the scheming type," Hermione said, recalling his exchange with Banarge. "He's too open, almost naive. Banarge said he's not cunning enough for secret plots."
"Harsh, Hermione," Harry teased. "He might be scheming in private."
"It's a fair assessment!" Hermione snapped. "He's shallow, overly optimistic. If he were cunning, he wouldn't spout purebloodism at the Duelling Club."
"True," Azrael said. "That leaves few suspects. Marthinus is tamed, too subdued to be the Heir."
"If the Heir attacked us, we could fight back," Ron said.
"We'd be petrified," Harry said. "Medusa's the likely monster, but defeating her needs professional Dark wizard hunters."
They'd scoured an old Dark magical creatures book in the Room of Requirement. A basilisk, Slytherin's symbol, killed with its gaze, not petrified. They debated how Medusa could be hidden, likely by invisibility. "Even Revelio would only reveal her, and we'd be petrified," Azrael said. "We'd need luck to expose her without turning to stone."
"What now?" Luna asked. "Hermione, shouldn't you stay in your dorm?"
The Heir's legend and the monster's power convinced Luna that Hermione should avoid risks. "Can you handle that, Hermione?" Harry asked, doubting it.
Hermione lacked Slytherin's self-preservation or Ravenclaw's calculated pragmatism—she was pure Gryffindor, brave enough to face purebloodists head-on. "No," she said. "That's surrendering to the Heir. I want to investigate more. One more clue, and we're closer to the truth."
Luna tilted her head, but Harry, Azrael, and Ron exchanged grins. Knew she'd say that.
"I propose we show we're tight with Slytherins," Azrael said. "The Heir might spare us—Slytherins are soft on their own."
"Stop pretending, Azrael," Harry said. "You're worried about Hermione, right?"
"You overestimate me," Azrael said, smirking. "It's calculated—being friends with Hermione softens how others treat us. Some, not rigid normies like Percy, support Harry despite his Slytherin ties. They'd value our friendship with Hermione."
Azrael's tactic felt like using friends for popularity, and Harry and Ron bristled, knowing it was half-joking. "I get it, but…" Ron started.
"That's kinda gross," Harry said.
Hermione embraced it. "If our friendship clears your names, that's good. To prove our innocence, we must find the Heir."
Luna, watching, tilted her head. "Why care about others' opinions? Aren't people indifferent?"
"You think so?" Harry asked.
"It's someone else's problem," Luna said. "If I weren't friends with Hermione, I'd brush this off."
Luna's individualism, fresh from months at Hogwarts, contrasted Azrael's group-conscious strategy. "Muggle-borns are terrified of random attacks," Hermione said, slightly irked.
Harry envied Luna's detachment. "You can't force everyone to care, Hermione. Honestly, if everyone thought like Luna, I'd be grateful, but that's not reality. Let's do what we can."
"Right," Hermione said.
"Library in two days," Ron said. "I'll signal if we find anything."
"Thanks," Harry said. "Don't overdo it, Ron, Hermione."
Dropping Hermione and Ron off, Harry escorted Luna to Ravenclaw. Noticing a Ravenclaw boy smirking at Luna, Harry glared until he looked away.
The next day, Harry threw himself into Quidditch practice. Two days later, the Duelling Club was a ghost town. Only prefects like Banarge, Galiot, McGillis, and Gafgarion, plus Harry's group and Marthinus, remained. Angelina, Cedric, and most others had left. Luna was Ravenclaw's sole representative, with Ron, Hermione, and Gryffindor prefect Agrias for Gryffindor.
"Sorry, Banarge," McGillis said, visibly crushed, apologizing to the Hufflepuff. "I didn't think it'd come to this."
Harry had never seen McGillis so humbled. "Don't bring personal beliefs to the club again," Banarge said. "Do that, and we're good. Let's practice."
McGillis's pureblood outburst had scared off sensible students, who feared the Duelling Club was becoming a cult.
Days later, the situation shifted. Gilderoy Lockhart declared himself the Duelling Club's instructor, plastering his photos around breakfast to promote it. His books championed harmony between wizarding and Muggle worlds—a liberal stance that, despite his incompetence, drew students wary of the Heir. Even those uninterested in dueling flocked to the club.
McGillis and Banarge rejoiced, but Harry suffered most. Thanks to Lockhart, he was pitted against Draco Malfoy in a duel.
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