"Peter Pettigrew? Sounds familiar, like I've heard it somewhere before," George said, no longer rushing Leon. He leaned over the Marauder's Map, staring at the name next to Dean Thomas, racking his brain to place it.
Fred, already crawling back through the passage, called out to them. "Stop overthinking it, let's get out of here first. It's too dark."
"Alright," Leon said, shoving the Marauder's Map back to George.
He followed Fred, scrambling through the smooth stone tunnel on hands and knees, still curious. "You guys don't know him? This Peter Pettigrew. Is he not a Gryffindor? Maybe he's Dean's friend from another house?"
"But other houses can't get into Gryffindor Tower, right? I was just looking at a football magazine with Dean earlier, and he didn't mention anything about inviting a friend over."
Fred's muffled voice echoed from ahead. "Wait, I remember now! I saw that name in Ron's dorm once. I even asked you about it, George, remember?"
George's face lit up with the memory. "Oh, yeah! I said it might be a ghost."
"Exactly! Definitely Ron's ghost buddy," Fred chimed in.
Leon rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Ron's out here making friends with ghosts now? He's got quite the social circle."
"Hmm, Ron's got a ghoul pal at home too," Fred added.
"Yeah, makes total sense he'd bunk with a ghost at school," George said with a smirk.
"…"
Leon gave up. As long as the Weasley twins knew something about it, that was enough. No need to expect miracles.
The three emerged from behind the statue, left the castle, and spent the Sunday afternoon lounging in the sun, chatting about their entrepreneurial plans.
---
Monday morning, the Great Hall was packed with students grabbing breakfast.
Leon had slept in the Chamber of Secrets the night before and hadn't come to the hall with Colin. Sitting at the Gryffindor table, he noticed Colin was missing, and so was Ginny.
He glanced around, then turned to Hermione, who was already nose-deep in a book. "Hermione, have you seen Ginny? Has she not come down for breakfast yet? And where's Colin?"
Without looking up, Hermione pointed across the hall. "The club flyers—didn't get used on Saturday, right? I saw a few first-years, including them, heading over to the Hufflepuff table with a stack of them."
Leon craned his neck toward the Hufflepuff table, but Ravenclaw's table was in the way, and the crowd of students milling about blocked his view. He gave up and started eating.
But within minutes, a commotion erupted from the other side of the hall. Leon caught Ginny's voice in the chaos.
Something was wrong.
He dropped his half-eaten fried egg and hurried toward the noise.
"…There's no Hogwarts rule against handing out flyers! And we're giving them out at Hufflepuff's table—what's it to you Slytherins?" Ginny's trembling voice rang out as Leon got closer.
"It's my business!" a smug voice shot back. "My father's a Hogwarts governor, and if I say it's not allowed, it's not allowed! Filthy Mudbloods, loony weirdos, and penniless Weasleys—keep your trash away from Slytherin! Go beg at your own Gryffindor table!"
Draco Malfoy's venomous words dripped with arrogance.
"You're just jealous!" Colin's high-pitched voice cut through. "Leon said you're jealous we get to be friends with Harry, so you're picking on us!"
"Jealous? Jealous that Potter's got a scar on his head and a fan club?" Draco sneered, but then he faltered, remembering his father Lucius's warning. His anger flared hotter. "Crabbe, Goyle, get rid of their rubbish!"
Chaos erupted. Plates shattered on the floor, colorful flyers fluttered through the air, dozens of stiffly smiling Harrys staring out from them. The crowd gasped and stepped back, clearing a space.
A few burly Slytherins in their green-trimmed robes charged at the smaller first-years.
Leon reached the scene.
The onlookers kept their distance, not wanting to get involved. In the center of the chaos, Colin's wizard robes were soaked with soup, a vegetable leaf stuck in his messy hair. Crabbe had him pinned under his arm, pummeling his stomach. Colin's face was red from pain and embarrassment.
A Hufflepuff boy Leon didn't know was darting between the Hufflepuff and Slytherin tables, nimbly dodging Goyle, who lumbered after him in circles.
Pansy Parkinson, the Slytherin girl always trailing Malfoy, was chasing a shorter Ginny, trying to yank her hair.
Luna, clever as ever, had slipped into the crowd of Slytherins before Millicent Bulstrode—twice her size—could grab her. She hid behind the Greengrass sisters.
The floor was littered with trampled, crumpled flyers, the scene a complete mess.
Leon hadn't been this angry in a long time.
Were they attacking his friends?
Were they wrecking his plans?
No, this was a direct slap to his face.
Fury took over, and he didn't care about hiding his strength anymore.
Leon strode forward, hands thrusting out. An invisible wave of magic surged, sending the attacking Slytherins flying. They crashed onto the floor, tables, and benches with a clatter.
The hall fell silent, save for a few groans of pain.
"Draco Malfoy," Leon said, his voice calm but chilling.
"You've gotten bolder. Can't take me on, so you go after my friends. Typical cowardice and pettiness."
He walked slowly toward Malfoy, each step deliberate.
Malfoy felt a primal fear rise from deep within, though he couldn't say why. He didn't dare meet Leon's eyes, but with so many watching, he refused to back down and disgrace the Malfoy name.
"Who's bullying anyone? They're disrupting breakfast, handing out their stupid flyers! Hogwarts isn't a free-for-all!" Malfoy snapped.
Leon's gaze flicked from Malfoy's clenched fist and trembling wand to the Iron Armor Charm badge on his chest, then up to his slicked-back platinum hair.
"You think because your dad's a governor, you can push everyone around?" Leon asked.
He raised a hand. Malfoy flinched, lifting his wand defensively, but Leon only draped an arm over his shoulder, like they were old mates. Malfoy felt a chill run down his spine, his neck prickling.
He struggled, but Leon's grip was unyielding.
Leon's face remained impassive, his voice soft but clear to everyone in the hall. "You know, all your tricks are like a primary school kid pulling hair for attention. Small, annoying, and pathetic. Like this."
Leon leaned in and blew lightly toward Malfoy's head.
Suddenly, Malfoy's golden locks floated upward, like dandelion seeds caught in a breeze, drifting away one by one. In seconds, the air was filled with his hair, sparkling in the light.
Malfoy stood frozen, his now-bald head gleaming under the hall's enchanted ceiling, exposed to every stare.
"Hmm," Leon said, tilting his head. "Quite a round head."