“Are you really going, Draca?”
“It doesn’t have to be this serious.”
“Exactly.
Besides, with the level of magic you two have right now, you couldn’t seriously hurt each other anyway.”
As midnight approached, Draca rose and lightly draped her cloak over herself.
Only then did Pansy and Daphne finally give in and try to persuade her otherwise.
All three came from great wizarding families, so naturally they’d grown up hearing plenty of legendary stories about duels.
A duel without seconds meant that both participants were prepared to fight until one of them died, ending the dispute once and for all with the death of a duelist.
In the Middle Ages, this had often been how prominent wizarding families settled insults to their honor.
“Of course I know that.
But he really went too far this time.”
“Even if all we know is basic magic, I’m still going to teach him a lesson.”
Draca was about to leave the room when Pansy spoke again.
“But…
he did have a point, didn’t he?”
“You really do insult the Weasleys pretty often.”
Draca looked at Pansy in surprise.
Pansy met her gaze without the slightest fear.
Beside them, Daphne looked nervous, her brows tightly furrowed as though she were ready to intervene the moment the two began arguing.
“Par.
Kin.
Son.”
“Go back to your own dormitory and sleep.”
Draca finally forced the words out indignantly before quietly slipping out of the room.
Deep down, she knew her friend’s blunt advice wasn’t entirely wrong.
But whenever she thought of Harry Potter being led astray because he’d befriended the Weasleys, she couldn’t help getting angry.
She slipped through the deserted common room and headed toward the trophy room on the third floor.
Once there, she hid in a dark corner near the entrance.
Clutching her wand, Draca silently reviewed several spells Severus had taught her when she was younger as she waited for the most intolerable rival she’d encountered in her life so far.
Then, as approaching footsteps grew louder, she narrowed her eyes in disbelief.
Several different voices accompanied them.
They were all speaking quietly, but in the empty corridor, their whispers still carried clearly in the echoes.
“Is your arm feeling better?”
“It’s completely fine.
Madam Pomfrey fixed it in about a minute.”
“Er, Neville, could you wait outside for us later?
We need to—”
“Don’t leave me alone!
I don’t want to stay outside by myself…”
“I’ve already seen the Bloody Baron twice tonight.
I don’t want to be alone…”
Harry Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom’s conversation echoed clearly through the corridor.
Draca cursed inwardly.
They’d agreed this would be a duel between the two of them, yet he’d brought this many people with him.
What shocked her even more was the angry female voice that followed.
“Shh!
Keep your voices down, you idiots.”
“If any one of you gets us caught…”
“I’ll study myself to death if that’s what it takes to learn Professor Quirrell’s Bogey Curse and use it on you.”
Draca had no idea how Hermione Granger had gotten dragged into this as well.
As the four entered the room, Draca silently watched their reflections move across the silver shields and golden trophies inside the display cases.
She slowly steadied her breathing.
At the same time, she began considering how she should defend herself if all four of them attacked the moment she revealed herself.
“Malfoy’s late.
Maybe she got scared and didn’t dare show up.”
Weasley stopped and spoke thoughtfully.
Draca gripped her wand so hard her knuckles hurt.
“I’ve been here the entire—”
“AAAAAH!”
She slowly stepped out of the shadows, imitating Severus’s cold, sinister tone.
Before she could even finish speaking, Longbottom screamed at the sudden sound of a girl’s voice in the middle of the night.
Draca and Hermione frowned at exactly the same moment and raised their wands.
“Petrificus Totalus!”
The incantation rang out in two young female voices at once. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Neville’s scream abruptly stopped.
His entire body went rigid like a statue, and he toppled straight onto the floor.
Harry and Ron stared in shock, with more than a little fear mixed into their expressions.
Draca and Hermione, meanwhile, frowned at each other.
Clearly, both were surprised that the other already knew how to cast the spell.
“Mal—”
“Shh!”
Harry had only just recovered from his shock and was about to confront Draca when she silenced him with a gesture.
Another sinister voice drifted down the corridor.
“Smell carefully, my dear.
That scream just now must have been a student sneaking around here.”
It was Filch, the caretaker, speaking darkly as he shuffled along and addressed his beloved cat, Mrs.
Norris.
Ron went pale with fright.
Hermione hurriedly looked around before pointing, as though she’d found salvation itself, toward a wooden door leading in the opposite direction from Filch.
Draca glared at Harry, then pointed at the motionless Neville on the floor, signaling for him and Ron to carry the terrified boy.
Harry looked ready to object without speaking.
Draca gave him a vicious glare, then pointed again toward the doorway where Filch’s footsteps were getting closer.
Harry obediently lowered his head and, together with Ron, lifted the rather heavy Neville.
The group slipped out into the corridor.
They thought they might be able to quietly sneak away from the trophy room.
Then either Harry or Ron lost their balance and slammed Neville hard into a suit of armor beside the corridor.
A tremendous metallic crash rang through the hallway.
Draca and Hermione immediately turned around and silently cursed the clumsy boys.
Then, following Hermione, the entire group broke into a frantic run like headless chickens.
They had originally intended to hide behind a tapestry covering an entire stone wall, but instead they accidentally stumbled through a hidden door.
When they tumbled out into another corridor on the other side, they found themselves at a dead end.
There was nothing there except an old wooden door.
Worse still, the hidden passage hadn’t completely closed behind them.
Mrs.
Norris’s meowing was already drawing closer, as though she’d slipped through the gap.
“What do we do?
What do we do?”
“This is all because you two started throwing spells around!”
Ron whispered miserably, bouncing anxiously on his feet.
“Hurry up and open that door!”
Harry couldn’t stop himself from urging her as well, making Draca repeatedly turn around to glare at him.
“You think I’m not trying?
It’s locked!”
Sweat had begun to gather in her palm as she gripped the handle, but no matter how hard she pulled, the door refused to open.
“Oh, move!”
Hermione shoved Draca aside, raised her wand, and lightly tapped the handle.
“Alohomora!”
The wooden door clicked open.
The four of them hurried inside with Neville.
The boys laid Neville horizontally across the doorway to use his rigid body as a doorstop.
Harry and Draca took one side of the door, Hermione and Ron the other, and together they pulled it shut with all their strength.
Draca crouched slightly in front of Harry.
In her nervousness, she didn’t even notice that he’d placed a hand on her shoulder to steady himself.
She gently pressed her ear against the door.
Outside, she could still faintly hear Mrs.
Norris meowing.
“Is it here, my dear?
Are you certain?”
“But there’s nobody here.
Surely no student would dare come this way.”
Filch’s slow voice finally reached them, sounding thoroughly frustrated.
Draca imagined him standing stupidly in front of the wooden door, unsure what to do.
After another moment, Mrs.
Norris’s meowing gradually grew fainter.
Perhaps she had followed Filch as he shuffled away.
“Ow!”
Draca had only just relaxed when pain shot through her right shoulder. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Only then did she realize that Harry Potter’s right hand was gripping her tightly.
She immediately snapped at him.
“That hurts!
What are you—”
The words died in her throat when she turned around and saw what was in front of them.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ron and Hermione turn deathly pale and cling tightly to each other.
Unexpectedly, although Harry looked terrified as well, he had planted himself firmly in front of Draca.
What lay before them wasn’t some small hidden room.
It was another long corridor stretching away into darkness— the third-floor corridor Professor Dumbledore had repeatedly warned everyone never to enter.
Directly in front of them stood an enormous three-headed dog, as large as a small hill.
Six blood-red eyes glared at them.
Its foul-smelling mouths panted hot, rancid breath while thick saliva dripped endlessly from its jaws.
Draca was still half crouched.
She instinctively looked up just as Harry lowered his face.
Their eyes met.
In that moment of danger, an inexplicable understanding passed between them.
Both immediately realized why the three-headed dog hadn’t attacked yet.
They had appeared so suddenly that the creature simply hadn’t had time to react.
The four exchanged glances across the doorway.
Then, somehow, everyone moved at once.
Ron and Hermione hurriedly bent down and each grabbed one of Neville’s legs.
Draca sprang upright and seized the door tightly.
The instant Harry grabbed Neville by both arms, Draca shoved the door outward with all her strength.
The group tumbled back into the corridor.
None of them dared waste time catching their breath.
They scrambled to their feet and threw their full weight against the door, forcing it shut.
Fortunately, although the wooden door was old, it was thick enough to withstand the three-headed dog’s scratching and roaring from the other side.
Once they were sure they were safe, none of them had enough strength left to keep running.
They leaned against the door, panting heavily.
After a moment, Harry spoke as though nothing had happened.
“Maybe…
maybe we should forget about the duel?”
“We should probably…
just go back and get some sleep?”
Without waiting for Draca to answer, he and Ron helped Neville, who was beginning to recover slightly, to his feet and prepared to leave.
Granger had already given an angry huff and walked off without looking back.
Her retreating figure stumbled slightly from how violently she was still trembling.
Draca listened to her heart pounding wildly and struggled to push herself away from the door.
She had only taken two steps when her legs suddenly gave out.
With a soft thump, she dropped onto the floor.
Harry turned at the sound and stared at her in surprise.
“You…
you…
I…”
Looking at Harry Potter’s expression, Draca felt a surge of embarrassment and panic.
She stumbled over her words, desperately hoping he would simply leave with Weasley and take Longbottom with him.
Then, to her dismay, she heard Harry speak.
“Ron, take Neville back first.”
“But she—”
“It’s fine.
Go.”
Draca helplessly watched Weasley and Longbottom disappear into the distance, then glared bitterly at the boy walking toward her.
“I’ll help you.”
Harry ignored her glare, crouched down, and held out a hand, his tone thoroughly reluctant.
Draca bit her lip and tried to stand on her own.
No matter what she did, however, her legs refused to cooperate.
In the end, she could only let him help her unsteady, exhausted body upright while protesting indignantly.
“I don’t need your help, Potter.”
“Whatever you say, Malfoy.”
It really helps the fic grow!