"We're here to check on you. Let's go first. Li Qiaodan seems to have discovered a secret passage—we need to take a look."
No sooner had Ron's older brothers left than an unwelcome figure appeared: Malfoy.
"Potter, are you enjoying your last supper? If so, maybe you should drive back to the Muggle world," he sneered.
"Now you're back on the ground, back in the warm embrace of Crabbe and Goyle, little Malfoy," Harry mocked. He was no longer the skinny boy he used to be; he had strength, courage, and no fear.
Let them pout and press their fingers together all they liked.
"Damn you, Potter! I challenge you to a duel," Malfoy hissed. "If you have the guts, come with me—let's have a proper wizard duel. How about using your wand to defeat a loathsome opponent? Though I guess you don't even know what a proper duel is, right?"
"Of course he does," Ron said. "He'll make you kneel and beg. I'm his assistant. Where's yours?"
Malfoy glanced at Crabbe and Goyle. "Crabbe is my assistant," he said. "Tonight, at midnight, in the Trophy Room—you may come or leave. You may stand if you wish." With that, he turned and left.
"What's a wizard duel?" Harry asked. "And you said you're my assistant—what's going on?"
"Oh, it's a duel. If you lose, I keep going," Ron explained.
"What if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" Harry was uncertain about his magic.
"Then don't use the wand. Just hit him hard on the nose," Ron said, optimistic about Harry handling Malfoy. Harry had grown quickly recently, and Ron had full confidence in him.
"Really, you don't want to duel?" Hermione asked, surprised. She had lost points earlier for wandering around the school at night.
"Justice requires strength. We need to teach Malfoy a lesson," Harry thought, recalling George's earlier advice.
"That's right. It's time for Malfoy to pay for what he's done," Ron said after considering it carefully.
"For justice!" Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, clapped each other on the back, and eagerly anticipated the duel at night.
"These two idiots!" Hermione muttered, rubbing her forehead helplessly.
They entered a large circular room, with elegantly arched round windows adorned with sheer curtains and bronze-and-blue decorations.
The ceiling was domed, dotted with stars that twinkled above. Below, the sky-blue carpet shimmered with tiny points of light. It felt as if they were walking among the stars—this was Ravenclaw's common room.
Hermione slowed her pace, taking in the sight.
The room contained several tables and chairs, and rows of bookshelves lined the walls, filled with books of every kind.
In a niche across the room stood a white marble bust of Rowena Ravenclaw, founder of the house. Above a nearby door lay the entrance to the Ravenclaw dormitories.
George was browsing a thick book by the shelves. Seeing Hermione rush toward him, he carefully returned it to the shelf.
He walked over and handed her a cup of water from the table. "What's wrong? So anxious?"
Hermione took the cup, put it back, and without a word, hurriedly pulled George along.
After running for a while, Hermione slowed, exhausted. "Harry and Ron… those idiots. They actually agreed to duel Malfoy at midnight in the Trophy Room. I was the one who tried to persuade them not to, but they wouldn't listen. Only you can convince them."
George stopped and asked, "Why were you trying to persuade them not to listen? And what if I persuaded them to listen?"
Hermione hadn't forgotten George's earlier words. "Because you're stronger and more capable than Harry and Ron—and stronger than me. That's why they trust you more."
"Is there a better way?" George continued to guide her.
Hermione frowned, thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't know. I can't tell the teachers, I can't tell anyone else, and I can't just go along with their reckless plans. That's why I came to you. Can you convince them?"
"I have a better plan," George said, leading Hermione in another direction.
Curious, Hermione followed him to an empty classroom.
"Take out your wand," George instructed.
Hermione drew her wand—a fourteen-inch vine wood wand with a dragon heartstring core, powerful and precise.
"Your wand is powerful, and so are you. All you need to do is control your strength. Follow me—Disillusionment Charm," George demonstrated with a wave of his wand.
"Disillusionment Charm!" Hermione repeated, waving her wand lightly. She noticed her colors fading, blending with her surroundings.
"Not bad for a start, genius Hermione Granger. Now we have a few hours to practice," George said, demonstrating again. As he moved, his own colors and textures changed, blending with the environment like a human chameleon.
"This is a safe and reliable spell. Too bad the school doesn't teach it fully," George said regretfully. "Miss this opportunity today, and you won't learn it until graduation."
The thrill of breaking rules, coupled with her determination not to fail, made Hermione fully commit to training.
"The spell must be steady and continuous. Keep the rhythm."
"Magic is like water. It flows through you like blood. Don't try to control it—just guide it, like turning on a faucet gently."
"If needed, you can read silently without speaking a word."
"Stay calm and relaxed. It's non-aggressive and not hard if you focus."
With George's constant guidance, Hermione gradually mastered the charm.
"This is a very difficult spell; otherwise, the school would have taught it fully," George said, encouraging her until she perfected the Disillusionment Charm.
Hermione smiled, thrilled to wield a practical spell.
"You're a natural. You picked this up much faster than I did my first time," George admitted honestly.
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