Days at Hogwarts

In the dining room, Harry was in a mess, and his mind was full of things.

When he got up in the morning, he realized belatedly—how did Loren know about the three-headed dog, and how to deal with it? What was this method?

In response, Loren tore up the bread and put it into the pumpkin porridge, then added a spoonful of honey and stirred it well. His reply was, "I saw it in a book, I forgot which book it was." The tone was extremely perfunctory.

Harry wanted to pour the pumpkin porridge over Loren's head.

"Harry Potter, enjoy your last weekend at Hogwarts. I've written to my father, who is a school director here, and you'll be expelled," Malfoy's provocative voice sounded, still as annoying as ever.

"Now that you're back on the ground, and your little friends are here with you, you've gotten a lot braver." Harry, whose thoughts were interrupted, didn't bother being polite. Professor McGonagall had said it wasn't his fault. Compared to Malfoy's father—whom he'd never even met—Harry trusted Professor McGonagall more.

The Gryffindors around them laughed at just the right time. The guest-of-honor seats were full of teachers. Malfoy and his two followers didn't dare make any rash moves and could only crack their fingers gloomily.

"I'm willing to fight you alone anytime," Malfoy said. "If you don't mind, how about tonight? A wizard's duel. Just wands. What do you say?"

"I guess you haven't heard of wizard duels yet?"

Ron stood up. "Of course we have. I'll be his assistant. Who's yours?"

Malfoy finally chose the taller and more ferocious-looking Crabbe. "At midnight, in the trophy display room. How about that?"

After the agreement was made, Malfoy left with Crabbe and Goyle, looking very pleased with himself.

Ron explained wizard duels to Harry: two people duel using magic, and even if the assistant dies, the duel continues. Of course, since both of them were first-years and had only been in class for two weeks, they didn't know any powerful spells yet.

"It's probably better to just throw away your wand, aim at his nose, and punch him hard!" That was Ron's final assessment.

"Sorry to bother you—I accidentally overheard what you and Malfoy were talking about," Hermione couldn't help interrupting the two.

"Malfoy's a pure-blood. He might know some curses you don't. And in a physical fight, the two of you combined can't beat Crabbe."

"Most importantly, you must not sneak around the school at night. Think about how many points Gryffindor will lose if you're caught. And you will be caught. Don't be so selfish."

Loren, sitting nearby, burped happily. "I think Hermione has a point."

But Harry and Ron felt it had nothing to do with her at all. They returned to the common room to continue discussing their battle plan.

At 11:30 p.m., the dormitory was quiet. Ron and Harry quietly got out of bed, went down the spiral staircase, and entered the common room.

Some embers still flickered in the fireplace, and one of the armchairs seemed to have turned into a shadowy figure.

Just as they were about to step toward the portrait hole, someone in the nearest chair spoke: "I can't believe you're actually doing this, Harry!"

A light flickered on—it was Hermione, wearing a pink nightgown and frowning.

"I'm going to tell your brother Percy—he's a prefect!"

Harry and Ron looked at each other. Without saying anything, they shoved the Fat Lady's portrait open and climbed out of the tower.

Hermione, furious, followed them out. "Don't you care about the House Cup score at all? I earned those points bit by bit from the professors!" She sounded like an angry lioness.

"It's none of your business!" Harry felt she was way too nosy.

Suddenly, a wheezing sound came from the darkness.

"Was it Mrs. Norris?" Ron held his breath.

It wasn't Mrs. Norris—but Neville, curled up on the floor, sleeping soundly. As the group approached, he woke with a start. "Thank goodness! I lost the note with the password and I've been locked out for hours!"

This sort of thing had happened before. Usually, Harry or Loren would check to see if Neville had come back before bed. If not, they'd come out and open the door. Sometimes, the Weasley twins would bring Neville in if they returned late from mischief.

But since Neville got his Remembrall, it hadn't happened again—until tonight.

"Keep your voice down, Neville. Today's password is 'Pig Nose,'" Harry said, turning to look at the Fat Lady's portrait.

The figure in the portrait was gone, leaving only the painted background. He suppressed his voice and exclaimed, "The Fat Lady's gone visiting again!"

No one was particularly worried. The older students had said the Fat Lady often went out to visit other portraits when no one came to open the door—usually to exchange opera and bel canto with others. She'd be back in under an hour.

"Ron and I will go to the duel. Hermione, you stay here with Neville and stop meddling," Harry instructed.

But Hermione refused. She wanted to make sure they didn't get caught by Filch or break even more school rules. Neville didn't want to be left alone either.

In the end, the four of them decided to go together. At least they could keep Malfoy from bullying them.

They moved through the castle using only the dim light, walking on tiptoe and barely breathing.

Even so, the trip wasn't peaceful. Shrieks escaped them from time to time. The Bloody Baron scared Neville half to death. Sir Nicholas, who hung upside down from the ceiling with his head dangling, made Neville want to curse.

Finally, they arrived at the trophy room safely.

The display room was pitch black, and the gilded trophies and medals reflected faint glimmers of light, just enough to make out their shapes.

Loren, who had been hiding behind a display case for some time, finally saw them enter but didn't make a sound.

The four stuck close to the wall, watching the doors at both ends of the room. Harry gripped his wand, bracing for Malfoy to ambush them.

But a long time passed, and there was no movement.

Loren rested his chin on one hand, then strolled up and offered his theory. "You think Malfoy's just playing a trick on you?"

A voice suddenly came from where they thought no one was. The four jumped and turned to stare at Loren. "Why are you here?!"

Loren put on a wronged expression. "You didn't invite me on the team-building night tour, so I came by myself."

Hermione was nearly in tears. If five Gryffindors were caught out at night, they'd lose so many points they might end up in the negatives.

Harry felt something was off. "What happened?"

Loren half-truthfully explained, "I overheard Malfoy's plan in the bathroom."

"He was planning to lure you here and then report you to Filch for wandering at night. A little lesson."

"So, at dinner, I told Malfoy you'd changed the duel location to the first floor."

Ron yelled in anger, "That despicable Malfoy! Doesn't even follow the rules of wizard duels!"

"Loren, why didn't you just tell us directly?" Harry was furious. He'd almost walked right into the trap.

Hermione scolded Harry and Ron: "I knew it! If it weren't for Loren, you two brainless idiots would've gotten us all in trouble!"

"I think night tours are fun!" Loren said, pulling out a pouch of nuts and offering them to everyone. "Since we're already out, we might as well enjoy it."

Everyone stared, stunned.

How could someone say they were going on a night tour so confidently—and drag others into it!

And why was he so well-prepared?

He even brought snacks!