Snape’s Potions classroom.
“Another one of these revolting beasts has managed to get into Hogwarts?” Snape looked down at the unconscious werewolf on the floor, then turned a cutting gaze on Dumbledore.
“Tell me, Headmaster, have those newspaper articles finally proved correct?
Are you actually going senile?” “Severus, if you wish to insult me, perhaps we can save it for another time.” Dumbledore discreetly slipped a Sherbet Lemon into his mouth.
“For now, I think we should focus on the werewolf.” “A werewolf and a Death Eater.
I suppose disgusting creatures really do attract one another.” Snape’s expression grew even more contemptuous when he noticed the Dark Mark on the man’s arm.
“If you ask me, we should wake him, give him a few drops of Veritaserum, and have our answers within minutes.” “…Unfortunately, that does not seem to be an option.” Dumbledore shook his head.
“I have already tried.
Nothing I did could wake him.” Snape frowned.
“What did you do to him?” “It wasn’t me.
Mr.
William did this.” “Ah.
That little troll.” Snape gave a cold, humorless laugh.
“Then I suppose there is nothing surprising about it.” “You seem rather familiar with him,” Dumbledore observed curiously.
“The William family has business interests in Potions,” Snape replied simply before crouching down and pulling open one of the werewolf’s eyelids to examine him.
“Oh.” Dumbledore paused, then quietly popped a Cockroach Cluster into his mouth.
“He is remarkably strong.
Do you know why?” “And how exactly would I know?” Snape released the werewolf and straightened.
“In any case, barring a miracle, I doubt this man will ever wake up again.” “Hmm…” Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully.
“There is something else.
Have you noticed that Mr.
William always looks at me rather strangely?” “He wants to fight you.” Snape paused, and unmistakable satisfaction crept into his voice.
“You might as well oblige him.
Perhaps once you’ve fought, he’ll lose whatever interest is keeping him at Hogwarts.” “I see no particular harm in Mr.
William remaining at Hogwarts, do you?” Dumbledore’s hand stopped halfway through his beard, and he smiled helplessly.
“Besides, I have no desire to duel a child.
And if what you say is true, I doubt one fight would satisfy him anyway.” “Heh.” Snape sneered.
“A child is enough to leave the great Albus Dumbledore at such a loss?” “Severus, I am an old man now,” Dumbledore replied pleasantly.
“And unless I am mistaken, you find Mr.
William rather troublesome yourself.” “Hmph.” ..
Several days later, Madam Pomfrey finally finished examining Leo and allowed him to leave the Hospital Wing.
“Poppy, are you certain he is fit to be discharged?” Professor McGonagall asked.
“Don’t worry.
I’ve checked him thoroughly.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with him now,” Madam Pomfrey replied.
“But do keep an eye on Mr.
William, Minerva.
I truly do not want to see him back here because he’s found some new way to injure himself.” “Mr.
William, I trust you have learned something from this incident,” Professor McGonagall said sternly.
“I understand.
Don’t worry, Professor.
There won’t be a next time.” Leo nodded with such obedient sincerity that he almost looked convincing.
“I sincerely hope not.” Professor McGonagall’s brows remained drawn together, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Very well.
It is lunchtime.
Go and eat.” The moment Leo entered the Great Hall, he saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurrying toward him.
Harry was clutching a slightly battered copy of the Daily Prophet, and his expression was unusually serious.
“What happened?” Leo asked as he continued toward the Gryffindor table.
“You need to see this.” Harry pointed to an article from several days earlier.
“I saw a clipping about it at Hagrid’s, so I went and found the full newspaper.” “Let me see…” Leo already had a good idea what the article would be about.
He took the paper, glanced over it, and sure enough, it concerned the break-in at Gringotts.
“GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN: INVESTIGATION CONTINUES.
Investigation into the break-in at Gringotts on July thirty-first is still ongoing.
The perpetrators are believed to be an unidentified witch or wizard connected to the Dark Arts.
Gringotts goblins again insisted today that nothing was taken.
The vault targeted by the intruder had, in fact, been emptied earlier that same day.
A Gringotts spokesperson stated this afternoon that the contents of the vault are confidential and warned outsiders not to interfere in the matter.” “Someone broke into Gringotts!
Vault Seven Hundred and Thirteen—and it happened on the same day Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley!” Harry’s green eyes were shining with excitement.
“Hagrid took a little package out of Vault Seven Hundred and Thirteen!” “So?” Leo yawned.
“So whoever broke in was trying to steal that package!” Harry said.
“Do you think Hagrid got it out in time?
And where is it now?” “Stop worrying about things you can’t do anything about.
Trust Hagrid.” Leo waved the matter aside.
“Whatever’s going on, lunch comes first.” “Well, well, well…” A familiar and thoroughly unwelcome blond boy appeared beside them.
“Enjoying your last meal at Hogwarts, Potter?
When are they putting you on the train back to the Muggles?” “You’re a lot braver now that you’re back on the ground with your little friends around you,” Harry shot back.
“What’s this about?” Leo asked around another chicken wing.
“You missed everything in flying class this morning,” Ron immediately said, launching into an increasingly embellished account of Harry’s exploits.
“…And then Harry caught up with Malfoy like it was nothing and got Neville’s Remembrall back from him!
You should’ve seen it.
Harry’s flying was incredible—” “No wonder Malfoy looks so miserable,” Leo said.
Malfoy traded insults with Harry for a little while longer, but once it became clear he was not getting the better of him, he changed tactics entirely.
“I’ll take you on tonight, if you’ve got the nerve.
A wizard’s duel.
Wands only—no physical contact.” Malfoy gave Harry a mocking smile.
“What’s the matter?
Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of a wizard’s duel.” “Of course he has,” Ron said immediately, then turned toward Harry.
“I’m his second.
Who’s yours?” Malfoy glanced between Crabbe and Goyle, considered his options for a moment, and chose.
“Crabbe.
Midnight.
We’ll meet you in the trophy room.
It’s never locked.” “Fine,” Harry agreed.
Malfoy left, but the moment he was gone, Harry turned to Ron with a blank expression.
“What exactly is a wizard’s duel?
And what did you mean when you said you’d be my second?” “Oh, if you die, your second carries on fighting,” Ron explained casually.
Harry’s face stiffened.
“…Are you sure?” After a moment, he glanced toward Leo.
“Can I change my second to Leo?
At least then I’d know someone would avenge me if I died.” “Look at it another way,” Leo said with a shrug.
“If I go instead, Malfoy will definitely be joining you in the afterlife.” He gave Harry a thoughtful look.
“You two would make quite the star-crossed pair.”