Harry Potter: The Wizard of Apocalypse

At the same time, on the other side, Hermione was doing her best to dissuade the two boys in front of her, trying to make Harry and Ron see how absurd it was for first-years to sneak out at midnight for a duel.

She even thoughtfully listed twenty-seven school rules in the hope that they would come to their senses.

But she was exhausted. Harry, at least, had the decency to stay quiet and listen, even if he looked more like he was in a daze.

Ron, however, with his unconvinced expression and occasional sarcastic remarks, finally pushed Hermione to her limit. The mere thought of Gryffindor losing points because of their recklessness was unbearable for her.

"You don't understand at all. Harry had no choice but to accept. If he refused, he'd never be able to hold his head high in front of Malfoy again. Do you even know what an honor duel is?" Ron asked, clearly frustrated.

"That still doesn't justify dueling at midnight. You could inform a professor and duel under proper supervision. Besides, Malfoy isn't trustworthy—this could be a trap. He might have tipped off Filch to catch you red-handed."

Hermione ignored Ron's feeble excuse entirely and turned to Harry, urging, "Harry, think for yourself. What will happen if Filch catches you?"

Before Harry could answer, Ron interjected, "What's the worst that could happen? A few points deducted and maybe detention. You're the only one who cares about that, Miss Know-it-all. Honestly, you belong in Ravenclaw, not Gryffindor."

His words were harsh—even Harry felt they were uncalled for. Just as he was about to say something to diffuse the tension, he saw Hermione's face flush with anger. In a rare outburst, she snapped,

"You know what? Maybe I should have been sorted into Ravenclaw!" And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed off, completely ignoring the boys behind her.

"Forget her, just let her go. That way, we won't have to listen to her nagging anymore," Ron muttered, pulling at Harry's sleeve.

"But… we didn't even ask her about the spell yet. And now you've made her mad," Harry said, exasperated.

"Don't worry. Malfoy probably won't be able to cast much anyway—he'll rely more on his fists. And if you're really concerned, I can always get my brothers involved. I've got three of them at Hogwarts, so we've got nothing to fear."

Ron patted his chest confidently, making a solemn promise.

"Alright…" Harry sighed. At this point, he had no choice but to go along with Ron's plan.

Truthfully, he put more faith in Ron's brothers than in Ron himself. His experience in Muggle primary school had taught him that having older brothers at school meant nobody would dare mess with you. And Ron had three.

Moonlight streamed through the windows, making the crystal cases in the Trophy Room sparkle. The shields, trophies, medals, and statues glimmered under the dim light, their golden and silver surfaces casting faint reflections in the darkness.

Huddled together, Harry and Ron peered down the shadowy corridor. Harry already had his wand in hand, just in case Malfoy decided to ambush them.

If Ian were here, he would have sighed at how much had changed. Not only had the duel's date been pushed back, but more significantly, Hermione and Ron had fallen out earlier than expected, leaving her absent from the duel altogether.

Time ticked by, each second stretching painfully long.

"Maybe Malfoy's too scared to show up," Ron murmured impatiently.

"Or… maybe Hermione was right. Maybe this is a trap…" Harry muttered.

"What trap—?" Ron began, but then he saw something that made his blood run cold.

"Snape—Professor Snape!" he stammered, grabbing Harry's sleeve, urging him to turn around quickly.

At that moment, Ron wished he could vanish into thin air. This wasn't Filch—they were facing Snape. First-years like them didn't stand a chance. Even George and Fred, the most daring pranksters in the third year, would surrender in this situation.

Snape was not pleased to be out at this hour. If not for the task Dumbledore had assigned him, he wouldn't have been wasting his time chasing after foolish students.

And then he saw Harry.

Harry, standing there with his eyes squeezed shut, resignation written all over his face. And Ron, trembling beside him.

Snape's initial irritation deepened. Without those defiant emerald eyes staring at him—only that infuriating resemblance to James Potter—the fleeting flicker of kindness in Snape's heart started to wither.

"Oh! The great savior and his loyal follower, caught wandering the Trophy Room at midnight. Not satisfied with your current fame, Potter? Are you planning to save Hogwarts tonight? Or perhaps you think your name belongs on all these trophies? Hmm?" Snape sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.

"It… it was Malfoy, Professor…" Ron stammered, still shaking, but managing to muster the courage to speak.

"Silence, Weasley. No one asked you to speak," Snape cut him off coldly.

Harry's eyes snapped open, glaring at Snape. The professor's words had struck a nerve.

Harry didn't care about fame. If he could trade all his recognition, all his Galleons in Gringotts, for just one day with his parents, he would do it without hesitation.

And Snape knew it.

The second Harry's green eyes met his, the flickering kindness and guilt in Snape's heart returned, unwillingly taking hold once more.

"One hundred points from Gryffindor!" Snape declared icily. "Each! And every weekend until the Christmas holidays, you will serve detention in my office. That is the punishment for Hogwarts' so-called savior and his reckless companion."

With that, Snape swept away, his black robes billowing behind him.

"Merlin… I thought he was going to kill us…" Ron exhaled, trembling. "You're lucky you had your eyes closed, Harry. You didn't see the look on the old bat's face."

Harry nodded, still shaken, but then added, "Hermione was right. We owe her an apology."

"Oh, don't start! She just got lucky with her guess. Besides, I've had enough of her lecturing. Unless she apologizes to me first, I'm not saying a word to her."

Harry sighed at Ron's stubbornness. "Let's just get back before Filch catches us too."

"For once, I agree. Let's go."

Still shaken from the encounter, Ron clung to Harry's shoulder for support as they trudged back.

Unbeknownst to them, hidden in the shadows, Snape watched their retreating figures until they disappeared from sight.

If Ian had witnessed this moment, he would have understood why Snape treated him differently.

Perhaps it was Ian's talent in Potions, but more than that, it was Snape's way of repaying a debt. From the very beginning, Dumbledore had told him more than he let on.

Because in this world, there was no such thing as love or hatred without reason.

...

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