Harry Potter: Returns Back From Game of Thrones (ASOIAF) - 40

Chapter 40: Before the Duel

After Malfoy left, Harry sat back down across from Ron.

"What's a wizard duel about? Is it more like those medieval knights or nobles dueling—can you wear full armor? Does the wizarding world have anti-magic armor or enchanted steel armor? And I didn't see him throw a glove at you either," Harry asked.

Ron rambled through his answer: "Long, long ago, I guess... Can't wear armor, right... Probably not... Don't need to throw gloves."

But he knew nothing about non-magical customs—many things he couldn't answer properly.

Ron's knowledge wasn't as broad as Hermione's. At this rate, he'd soon fall behind his strategic advisor!

"I heard Malfoy say he didn't want me as your second. What does that mean?"

"Oh, if I die, the second takes over the duel," Ron said casually, finally starting to eat his now-cold pie again. "If you're my second, Malfoy's definitely dead."

Harry thought, So it's such a serious duel. I regret agreeing. Looks like I'll have to intervene if necessary—don't want actual deaths...

Ron caught the serious expression on Harry's face and hastily added, "But you know, people only die when having proper duels with fully trained wizards. I was just exaggerating out of habit. Malfoy and I can at most shoot sparks at each other. We know too little magic to really hurt each other... probably."

"I see. So if you wave your wands and nothing happens, what then? Who judges the winner? Me?"

"That's right, Harry. Malfoy would probably accept your judgment too."

"Sorry to interrupt."

They looked up—it was Hermione.

"Can't people eat in peace around here?" Ron said. He'd disliked Hermione from their first meeting.

He thought this girl loved showing off too much, was very pretentious, liked offending people. He hadn't provoked her—if not for Harry's friendship with her, he'd absolutely ignore Hermione.

Harry actually quite liked Hermione's confidence, her refusal to back down, and her personality of helping the weak—somewhat like a righteous female knight.

Though she did meddle too much and had attitude problems—minor flaws. Very much like the type who raised many flags, then early on got defeated and captured—the proud female knight archetype.

But personality flaws—everyone had them. Even knights in [A Song of Ice and Fire] who'd committed terrible acts could barely count as decent people by some standards.

Even Harry himself, with uncounted battlefield kills, was viewed by plenty as a sage king and wise lord. Harry wouldn't care about Hermione's small problems.

Hermione said to Ron, "I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy said—"

"I knew you'd do that," Ron muttered.

"—You absolutely can't wander around school at night. Think about it—if you're caught, how many points you'll lose, Gryffindor! And you'll definitely get caught. You're really too selfish."

"No one in Gryffindor cares about those points. If I'm caught for dueling, no one will be upset—they'll cheer me on. Only you!" Ron shot back.

"Both of you dial it back. Don't argue during dinner," Harry told them, picking up his knife and fork to cut a piece of apple pie. "Give me some respect here."

Actually this scene was nothing. Not to mention his mercenary company days in [A Song of Ice and Fire] when subordinates fought and sparred daily.

Even as king, ministers, nobles, and knights were arguing before the throne, even getting heated enough for courtroom brawls—Harry had seen it all.

But eating should look like eating. Good food couldn't be disrespected. Hogwarts food was genuinely excellent—it didn't even taste like typical British cuisine anymore.

"Sorry Harry, I didn't mean to disturb your meal." Hermione temporarily restrained herself.

Midnight approached.

"Half past eleven," Ron finally whispered. "We've got to go."

They put on their dressing gowns, took their wands, crossed the dormitory, descended the stairs, and entered the Gryffindor common room.

Some embers still flickered faintly in the fireplace. The armchairs seemed to have become masses of dark shadows.

Just as they were about to reach the portrait hole, someone spoke from the nearest chair. "I can't believe you're really doing this, Ron."

A lamp flared to life—it was Hermione Granger.

She wore a pink dressing gown, frowning disapprovingly.

"You!" Ron said angrily. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione retorted sharply. "Percy's a prefect—he'd stop all this nonsense."

Ron couldn't believe such meddlesome people existed.

"Come along," Harry told Hermione. He'd already guessed Hermione would show up—Gryffindors were just this stubborn.

Pushing open the Fat Lady's portrait, they climbed through the hole.

Hermione followed Harry through, hissing at Ron in a lowered voice like an angry goose.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor at all? Only yourself? I don't want Slytherin winning the House Cup again. I don't want you losing all the points I earned from Professor McGonagall with my Switching Spells. Plus, you're making Harry look bad too."

"Get lost! I'm not like you, constantly name-dropping others, acting like it's for everyone's good, managing this and that. Harry also wants to watch a wizard duel."

"That's definitely Harry accommodating you. What's your level compared to his? Harry might not even care for real wizard duels—how could he care about your level of duel with Malfoy?"

"There's no reasoning with you. Harry, we've got to go—we're almost late."

Hermione glanced at Harry. "Then I'm coming with you."

"You're not invited."

"The Fat Lady went visiting. I can't get back in. You think I'll stand out here waiting for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us, I'll tell him the truth—that Harry and I tried stopping you. Then Harry can testify for me."

Harry frowned. "My relationship with Filch is good, but I won't sell out teammates to save myself. If something happens, we face it together."

"You've got some nerve—" Ron said loudly.

"Shut up, both of you!" Harry said sternly. "Speak of the devil and he appears—Filch is coming."

Harry could sense people's auras easily. Mrs. Norris had long been charmed by Harry's overwhelming Charisma. The three rounded several corners without running into Filch. On the way they also encountered Neville, who'd forgotten the password and could only wait outside the portrait hole. Finally, they successfully arrived at the trophy room for the duel.