Chapter 46: The Duel and the Third-Floor Corridor
The moment Malfoy finished speaking, a jet of red light shot out from the shadows, accompanied by a bellowed, "Stupefy!"
Malfoy dove out of the way, crashing into a trophy case with a loud clatter. The impact rattled his bones, and he grimaced in pain. But he scrambled back to his feet, remembering Vaisey's instructions. "Rictusempra! Densaugeo!" He fired off two minor jinxes in quick succession. He couldn't see Ron's exact location in the darkness, and one of the spells shattered the glass of another trophy case, but the other one hit its mark.
Elated, Malfoy began firing off more jinxes, a wild barrage into the shadows.
Vaisey and Percy, watching from the sidelines, both frowned, not at the clumsy duel, but at the discrepancy between Ron's spell choice and his dueling skill. The Stunning Spell he had cast was clumsy, as if he had only just learned it. But a wizard who could cast a Stunner shouldn't have been so easily hit by Malfoy's pathetic, schoolyard hexes. Especially when Ron had the advantage of cover, and Malfoy's aim was so erratic. And more importantly, they were both first-years. One was using simple jinxes; the other was using a powerful, advanced spell.
Is the youngest Weasley a lopsided genius, a prodigy in spell-casting? Vaisey wondered. He made a mental note to ask Ryan what Ron had written on his application.
Seeing the flashes of red light, Harry's jaw dropped. They were supposed to be roommates, partners in mediocrity. But it turned out he was the only true slacker. Ron, you've been secretly studying, haven't you?!
Hermione's eyes were wide with disbelief. A spell she hadn't even learned yet had just been cast by the boy who couldn't even manage a simple Levitation Charm in their first Charms class.
As Malfoy and Ron continued their chaotic exchange, a sudden, piercing meow cut through the darkness. Mrs. Norris. Filch was on his way.
"I'll let you off this time, Weasley!" Malfoy said, ceasing his barrage. He backed away. "Vaisey, Filch is coming! We need the Disillusionment Charm!"
"Filch is coming! Run!" Ron suddenly bellowed, crashing out of the room and making enough noise to be heard on the second floor. It was obvious to everyone that he was deliberately giving away their position.
Percy, his face a veritable Jackson Pollock of conflicting emotions, finally snapped. "I swear, I am writing to Mum and Dad about this."
"A good idea," Vaisey said, nodding thoughtfully. "When faced with an unfavorable situation, use the rules to your advantage. He's been planning to betray both his opponents and his teammates from the very beginning. Even his own brothers and friends." Vaisey let out a low whistle of admiration. "A true Slytherin… no, a future resident of Azkaban. He has no brothers, no friends, only minions and underlings." Even among the current crop of Slytherins, such raw, treacherous talent was a rare find.
He discreetly waved his wand, placing a silent tracking charm on the fleeing Ron. "Everyone, gather 'round. I'll cast the Disillusionment Charm on all of us."
As Filch's gleeful voice echoed up the stairs, Vaisey and his newly invisible entourage began to move. Hermione's heart was pounding. She noticed that Mrs. Norris was following Fred and George, her nose twitching. And Filch was already on the third floor. "Vaisey," she whispered, "Mrs. Norris is following us!"
Vaisey looked back and saw the cat, her fur on end. "She must have scented something. George, Fred, what did you bring?"
"Students out of bed?!" Filch's lantern appeared at the top of the stairs. "The Headmaster is too soft on them! They should bring back the old punishments! Chains, manacles, whips…" He scanned the corridor, his eyes gleaming. He saw Mrs. Norris, hissing at a patch of empty air, and hurried towards them.
Vaisey briefly considered knocking Filch out, but Ryan had always been respectful of the Hogwarts staff…
Splat! Splat!
Two dungbombs exploded, releasing a foul, choking stench. "A little surprise for Filch!" the twins crowed. "Have a taste of this!"
Vaisey couldn't help but be impressed. "Run for it!" he yelled, echoing a phrase he'd heard from Ryan many times, and led the group in the direction of his tracking charm. He could feel that Ron hadn't gone back to Gryffindor Tower, but was instead heading for the right-hand corridor on the third floor—the very place Dumbledore had warned them to avoid.
The group scrambled up to the third floor, leaving a fuming Filch behind them. "Dungbombs! I will have them added to the list of banned items! You just wait!"
Outside the Third-Floor Corridor.
"That was… thrilling!" Harry gasped, catching his breath. He had almost fallen through a vanishing step, but someone had grabbed him at the last second.
"If I had known it was you, Potter, I wouldn't have bothered," Malfoy sneered, though his hair was disheveled and he was leaning on his knees, panting. He wouldn't let Potter see him looking weak. A Malfoy is never weak.
"Where are we?" Percy asked, looking pale and unwell.
"The third-floor corridor. On the right-hand side."
"The third-floor corridor…!" Percy remembered the Headmaster's warning. "He was joking, wasn't he? When he said we shouldn't come in here?"
"A joke?" Vaisey repeated, a strange, knowing smile on his face.
"Of course it was a joke!" Percy insisted, puffing out his chest. "If it were a real danger, he would have informed the prefects!"
"Prefect," Vaisey said with a weary sigh, "do you really think that in a matter of true importance, the prefects would be the first to know? I thought you, of all people, would understand that power and authority are not the same thing." He shook his head. Percy was the most obsessed with titles of anyone he knew. He remembered what Ryan had once told him: Do not chase after external things, Vaisey. We are wizards. Our power is our own.
~~~
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