“Don’t be like that.
You can’t just pique our curiosity and then not tell us the truth.” “Believe me, Daimon.
If you don’t tell us, Harry and I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Ron chattered incessantly as he followed Daimon out of the Great Hall, his short legs moving rapidly, while Harry nodded in agreement beside him.
Hermione jogged up from behind, her bushy brown curls bouncing on her shoulders.
Looking worried, she said, “A wager that can catch George and Fred’s interest couldn’t be something dangerous that violates school rules, could it?
Daimon, you’ve already been called to Professor McGonagall’s office twice.
Even though you got out of it safely both times, I really don’t want to see a third.” It had to be said that Hermione’s intuition was spot on.
Even though term had started less than two weeks ago, she had already accurately grasped the nature of the Weasley twins.
“Hermione,” Daimon said, wagging his finger with the kind of smirk that made her both irritated and helpless.
“Remember, this is a school of magic.
The school rules only bind ordinary students.” “But…” Hermione wanted to argue further, but a dark shadow blocked their path.
Draco Malfoy and his two lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle, stood like three solid walls blocking the corridor.
Other passing students in the corridor quickly detoured around them; no one wanted to get dragged into a dispute between Slytherin and Gryffindor.
“Malfoy, what do you want?
Do you want another mouthful of mud?” Ron stepped forward, pointing at Malfoy and shouting.
The smile on Malfoy’s face froze instantly, and he glared fiercely at Ron.
“None of your business, Weasley.
Beat it.” “You—” Ron gritted his teeth and wanted to rush forward to fight, but Harry grabbed his arm tightly.
Although Harry’s teeth were also itching with hatred, his rationality remained.
With two mountains of flesh like Crabbe and Goyle there, a little beanpole like Ron rushing up would be pure suicide.
“Ignis!” Malfoy ignored them, merely staring dead at Daimon through gritted teeth.
“You think that Flying Class business is just over?” “Oh?
What other game do you want to play?” Daimon asked with an amused smile.
Since he had nothing else to do anyway, he didn’t mind adding a bit of amusement to his boring school life.
“A duel,” Malfoy said, raising his chin.
“A wizards’ duel, wands only.
Midnight tonight, the trophy room.
If you have any guts at all, don’t hide in the Gryffindor tower pretending to be dead.” “No problem!” Daimon agreed instantly, scanning the three of them with a contemptuous tone.
“Do you want to make a fool of yourself alone, or do you want all three of you to get beaten up together?” Malfoy’s eyes darted around, spotting Harry and Ron itching for a fight nearby.
One was the Savior he couldn’t stand, and the other was a wretched Weasley.
An idea suddenly struck him.
“We have three, and you have three.
Three-on-three.
Do you two dare?” Malfoy provoked.
“Of course!” Harry had long been annoyed by Malfoy.
Now that there was a chance to openly thrash Malfoy, he was naturally more than willing.
As for the possibility of losing—with Daimon around, he couldn’t imagine how they would lose.
“You just wait to get on your knees and call us daddy tonight!” Ron said arrogantly.
“See you tonight then.” A scheming smirk played on the corner of Malfoy’s mouth as he turned to leave.
“Wait,” Daimon spoke up.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow.
“What?
Scared?” Daimon shook his head, his tone calm.
“The trophy room is too close.
It’d be boring if we ran into Filch.
The Forbidden Forest, near the entrance.
It’s remote enough for us to fight however we want.
Do you dare to go?” Malfoy froze for a moment, then laughed.
“You want to go to the Forbidden Forest?
Fine, the Forest entrance.
Midnight, don’t be late.” What a joke.
Let alone the Forbidden Forest entrance, even if Daimon had proposed actually entering the Forbidden Forest, Malfoy would have dared to agree—because he had absolutely no intention of going.
Wandering around late at night, trespassing in the Forbidden Forest—this excuse was more than enough to get them expelled from Hogwarts.
Malfoy turned and left with Crabbe and Goyle, his steps practically bouncy.
Hermione had been biting her lip anxiously the whole time.
The moment Malfoy was out of earshot, she burst out, “Are you mad?
The Forbidden Forest at midnight?
That’s violating school rules!
And Malfoy definitely won’t go.
He just wants to trick you into going out so Filch can catch you!” “I know,” Daimon said.
“With Malfoy’s courage, how could he possibly duel us head-on?
He just wants to get us expelled from Hogwarts.
His nonsense can only fool idiots who don’t use their brains.” Beside them, Ron and Harry exchanged glances, feeling rather insulted, because they had indeed believed Malfoy’s nonsense.
Hermione was also taken aback.
“You knew and still agreed?” Daimon glanced at her but didn’t explain.
After all, his real goal was to have Filch catch the twins, and preferably draw in the gamekeeper, Hagrid, so that he could slip into the Forbidden Forest more easily.
“Then why did you change the duel location to the Forbidden Forest entrance?
Ah, I get it.
You want to mess with Filch, right?
To be honest, I hate him too,” Ron piped up.
—————– At eleven-thirty in the evening, in the Gryffindor common room.
Most of the students had already returned to their dormitories.
The flames in the fireplace crackled, casting a warm yellow glow onto the empty armchairs.
Inside the dormitory, Daimon cast a sleeping charm on Harry and Ron as usual.
This time, he paced the spell perfectly, ensuring they would sleep soundly until dawn and still make it to class on time tomorrow.
Daimon came out of the dormitory, changed into dark clothing, and prepared to slip through the portrait of the Fat Lady.
Just as he reached the exit, a voice spoke from behind him.
“You’re going to the Forbidden Forest.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement.
Daimon turned.
Hermione was standing at the foot of the stairs, her arms crossed, her hair slightly messy, but her eyes were frighteningly bright.
She was wearing her pajamas with a school robe thrown over them and her shoes on, clearly prepared.
“If I told you I’m not going to the Forbidden Forest entrance for a duel, would you believe me?” Daimon asked, spreading his hands helplessly.
“I know,” Hermione said, approaching and lowering her voice.
“You plan to find the Weasley twins, right?
Whatever they are doing in the Forbidden Forest tonight is related to your wager.
You want to go watch, and in the process—I don’t know what else you plan to do, but it’s definitely nothing good.” Daimon sighed, not denying it.
Sometimes, having a companion who was too clever was not a good thing.
Hermione was clearly extremely intelligent, her logical reasoning incredibly sharp; with just a few clues, she had pieced together the rough truth.
“So you plan to stop me?” “So I plan to go with you,” Hermione added immediately.
“I know I can’t stop you, but if I’m with you and we get caught, the school might go easier on us.” “After all, you and I are currently the top students in Gryffindor, aren’t we?” Hermione’s eyes sparkled as she smiled.
“The privilege of being a good student—I learned that from you.” Daimon smiled.
“I thought you would go tell Percy Weasley or Professor McGonagall.” “Uh-huh!” Hermione nodded with a touch of pride.
“If you dared to leave me behind and go alone, I think I would have.” At this point, Hermione frowned, looking thoroughly disgusted.
“Those two fools must have been put to sleep by you with a spell, right?
Otherwise, they would definitely have followed, especially that brainless Ron.” The smile on Daimon’s face widened.
“It’s not nice to talk about others behind their backs like that.” Hermione gave a soft huff.
“They talk behind my back plenty anyway; I actually know all of it.
Besides, don’t change the subject—you haven’t agreed yet!” Daimon took a step toward the exit.
“Your legs belong to you.
What I say doesn’t count.”