Ivan paused, as if something had just occurred to him.
“One more thing, Malfoy.
You still owe Hermione a thank-you.
Don’t forget.” Malfoy’s face flushed scarlet.
He yanked his wand free and pointed it at Ivan.
“That was a filthy sneak attack!
I’d rather fall off a broom and die, or rot in Azkaban, than thank a Mudblood!” Crabbe and Goyle drew their wands as well—then noticed the surrounding Gryffindor stares and remembered exactly whose table they were standing at.
Their arms dropped.
The word Mudblood made Ivan’s eyes narrow.
Ron shot to his feet.
“Malfoy!
We accept your challenge!
Tonight I’m going to teach you a proper lesson!” “Fine.
I’ll be waiting.” Malfoy raised an eyebrow, smirked, and walked away with his two shadows.
Once he was gone Harry turned to the others, thoroughly confused.
“What’s a duel?
Do they stab each other with swords?” “Of course not.
We’re not Muggles.” Ron launched into an enthusiastic explanation of formal wizarding duelling: opponents face each other, bow, raise wands, and continue until one side is completely defeated, seconds stepping in if necessary.
Death was apparently an accepted possibility.
Harry swallowed.
“Ron’s exaggerating,” Ivan said.
“That’s a proper adult duel.
We’ll be using Disarming Charms, Leg-Lockers, things like that.
Sometimes fists are more effective.” “You’re coming tonight, right?” Ron asked hopefully.
“No.
I already told you I have something else to do.
No time for Malfoy.” In Ivan’s opinion standing opposite someone and trading spells in a straight line was an exceptionally stupid way for a wizard to fight.
A fencing match would at least have had style.
Knowing Ron and Harry would go anyway, he added a quiet warning.
“There’s a good chance Malfoy doesn’t show at all.
He might just tip Filch and have us all caught.” They looked at each other, unconvinced.
An honourable duel was an honourable duel.
Malfoy wouldn’t sink that low.
Ivan saw the determination and gave up.
He opened Teach Yourself Flying and left them to it.
From what he remembered the night would be mostly harmless and would even give them more information about the Philosopher’s Stone.
If anything genuinely dangerous happened, Dumbledore would clean it up.
The Headmaster would not allow his chosen saviour to die in a first-year prank.
After dinner, walking back to the dormitory, Harry voiced the worry again.
“Are we really going?
What if Malfoy doesn’t turn up?” “We have to.
It’s a duel.
If he shows and we’re not there we’ll never live it down.” Ron was already committed.
“There are three of them and only two of us.” “We’ll take Neville.
That makes three.” Harry opened his mouth, then closed it.
Suddenly he felt more worried, not less.
Maybe two would be safer after all.
At midnight the Gryffindor dormitory was empty.
Ivan closed Teach Yourself Flying.
A few hours of reading combined with the afternoon’s practical work had pushed his flying skill close to Level 2.
Harry, Ron and Neville had slipped out a quarter of an hour earlier.
Ivan wished them luck.
Fluffy was not known for his patience.
He climbed through the portrait hole.
The Fat Lady was nowhere in sight—visiting friends, most likely.
The entrance sealed itself behind him.
Midnight Hogwarts was colder and quieter than usual.
Long stretches of corridor lay in near-darkness, broken only by the occasional dim wall sconce.
Ghosts did not frighten him; he had spoken with several already.
The real irritation was the system’s delivery method.
Having to collect a reward in the Restricted Section at midnight felt unnecessarily hardcore.
It was the least system-like system feature he had encountered.
The moving staircases were worse at night.
They shifted with no discernible pattern, sometimes swinging away the moment he reached them.
Ivan used short bursts of Levitation to bridge gaps and the Full Body-Bind to lock junctions in place long enough to cross.
Portraits of elderly scholars watched with open interest; a few called cheerful greetings.
He answered each one politely before continuing toward the library.
“Alohomora.” The library doors unlocked.
He stepped inside, closed them behind him, and raised his wand.
“Lumos.” A bright white light flared at the tip, then settled into a steadier, dimmer glow.
It was enough.