While Dawn was sorting out his thoughts in the Room of Requirement… In the Great Hall, a quarrel erupted during dinner at the Gryffindor table.

The cause, once again, was Draco Malfoy.

The young master, who had just gotten the injuries on his face treated by Madam Pomfrey, was still holding onto a belly full of anger, eager to find someone to vent it on.

And so, he turned to his family’s long-time “enemy.”

“Oh, look who it is! You look like you’ve been reincarnated from starvation. Don’t tell me the Weasleys are so poor they can’t even afford food anymore.”

He glanced up and down at Ron with a look of disgust.

“And with that filthy old robe you’re wearing, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Ron, who had just stuffed a chicken leg into his mouth, flushed with embarrassment.

He shot to his feet, intending to speak, but nearly choked on the food, his face turning redder as he coughed and spluttered, drawing louder laughter from Malfoy.

Harry, sitting beside him, couldn’t take it any longer.

He hadn’t even seen Malfoy that many times, but his dislike for the boy ran so deep, it felt as if they had been enemies for years.

“Shut up! What else can you do besides flaunt your pathetic family fortune? At least Ron doesn’t go around making a fool of himself like you!”

“Oh, look at that!”

Draco turned and nudged Goyle’s arm.

“Our little savior has stepped up once again, bravely defending his… sidekick?”

“We’re friends!” Harry snapped. “Ron is my friend! Only someone like you would think friendship means nothing. Just like you don’t care about what Goyle or Crabbe think at all!”

A flicker of discomfort flashed across Draco’s face.

But he quickly covered it by changing the topic with a sneer, “Friends, huh? So does that mean the poor little Weasley is willing to be your dueling second?”

Harry blinked. “Dueling second?”

“That’s right! Tonight. A proper wizard’s duel. You and me.”

Draco raised his chin in challenge.

“In the Trophy Room. It’s never locked… So? Do you have the guts to show up?”

Wizard duel?

What’s that supposed to mean?

Harry wanted to ask.

But Ron, having finally swallowed the last bit of food, slammed the table and jumped in first.

“Of course we’ll be there! I’ll prove in that duel that you’re just like your father—a coward!”

“Hah! Then I’ll be waiting!”

With a flare of anger on his face, Draco turned and stormed off.

Only now did Harry have a chance to ask what exactly a wizard’s duel involved. Ron was just about to explain when—

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt!”

Hermione, who had been sitting nearby, suddenly chimed in.

“I really think you shouldn’t go. Wandering the halls at night is strictly forbidden! Just think how many points Gryffindor will lose if you’re caught.”

“What’s it to you?” Ron said impatiently.

He honestly didn’t understand how anyone could be this nosy.

“What’s it to me? Aren’t I a Gryffindor too? I just earned two points in Transfiguration yesterday!”

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up in frustration.

But Ron had already tuned her out. Harry, too, felt the girl was meddling far too much.

Ignoring her, the boys became caught up in a heated discussion about dodging spells, counterattacks, and which charms to use… swept up in a strange kind of excitement.

Unfortunately for them, their enthusiasm was destined to be short-lived.

……

At midnight, the Trophy Room sparkled in the dark.

Trophies, medals, and statues shimmered behind glass cases, glowing gold and silver like a sky full of breathing stars.

Time ticked by slowly.

But there was still no sign of Malfoy.

“I told you… I told you from the start this was a bad idea!”

Hermione leaned against the wall, scolding in that familiar “why didn’t you listen to me” tone.

Ron snapped back. “And yet you came too!”

Hermione was clearly displeased. “If I hadn’t come to stop you two, I wouldn’t be locked out of the common room right now! We need to get back before someone catches us.”

She reached out, trying to tug them by the sleeves.

“No way!”

Ron dodged swiftly. “There’s still time before the deadline. If Malfoy shows up and we’re not here, he’ll mock us in front of the whole school!”

Hermione looked like she might laugh out of sheer frustration. “Can’t you see it now? Malfoy’s been playing you from the start!”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Harry muttered, rubbing his forehead. “We’ll wait ten more minutes. If he’s not here by then, we’re leaving.”

Hermione still didn’t look satisfied.

She opened her mouth to speak again—

But just then, a shrill meow rang out outside the Trophy Room.

Ron’s face turned pale. “Oh no! It’s Mrs. Norris—Filch’s cat!”

“Damn it! What are we waiting for? Run!” Even Hermione’s face turned white. The last thing she wanted was to be caught breaking the rules!

The three of them bolted out the back of the Trophy Room in a panic, darting through the halls like headless chickens.

“Hey! Look!” Hermione pointed suddenly at an open classroom door to their right.

Without hesitation, they rushed inside, slammed the door, and leaned over gasping for breath, hands on knees. For a long moment, nothing stirred in the corridor outside.

No sign of Filch.

They finally began to relax and straightened up to take in their surroundings.

It looked like the classroom hadn’t been used in ages. Dust blanketed every surface, and desks and chairs lay scattered all over the floor.

But in the center of the room stood something extraordinary.

A magnificent mirror.

“Whoa!”

Ron leaned in curiously, then suddenly cried out.

“I’m Head Boy! And Quidditch captain too!”

“What?”

Harry and Hermione froze, then exchanged a glance and stepped forward to stand before the mirror.

Through the clear surface of the glass—

Harry suddenly saw a crowd of people standing behind him!

He gasped and covered his mouth in fright, spinning around in terror—only to find nothing behind him but a window and a tattered curtain fluttering in the wind.

“The Mirror of Erised.”

Hermione softly read the inscription carved into the bottom of the frame: “I show not your face, but your heart’s desire.”

“Desire?” Ron looked disappointed, running his hand along the mirror’s golden frame. “I thought it could predict the future or something. So, what did you see?”

“A huge library,” Hermione said casually.

She got to her feet and quietly opened the door to peek outside. “Filch hasn’t shown up… Alright, you two, we really have to go.”

Ron still seemed reluctant. “Go? But what about Malfoy…”

“Forget about that damn Malfoy!” Hermione snapped, clearly losing her patience.

“Filch already noticed the trophy room. That means whether Malfoy shows up or not, you won’t be able to duel tonight. Understand?”

She paused and softened her tone. “Let’s go now while we still haven’t been caught.”

“Hmph, as if you know everything,” Ron muttered under his breath.

Still, he knew Hermione was right. “Alright, Harry. Looks like our unbeatable strategy won’t see action tonight. Let’s go back and get some sleep.”

“No! I’m not leaving!” Harry refused with sudden intensity.

He had realized exactly who those people in the mirror were. He reached out and gently touched the glass, tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

“Let me stay… I want to see my mum and dad again.”

Hermione couldn’t bring herself to argue after seeing the look on Harry’s face. She walked over and gently patted his shoulder.

“Harry, I understand how you feel… but we have class tomorrow… The mirror will still be here. After lessons, Ron and I will come back with you. Alright?”

Harry bit his lip, hesitating for a long moment, then finally gave a weary nod.

Hermione was about to offer more comfort—

But just then—

The three of them suddenly heard rustling noises outside!

*Tap—*

*Tap—*

Footsteps, slow and deliberate, growing louder with each step.

“Someone’s coming!” Hermione mouthed in alarm, her eyes wide. They scrambled around the classroom in a panic, looking for a place to hide.

It was Hermione who finally pointed toward a massive cabinet against the back wall. They tiptoed over and slipped inside as quietly as they could.

“Who is it?” Ron whispered, barely audible. “Filch?”

Hermione shot him a fierce glare and made a sharp “shush” motion, then carefully nudged the cabinet door open a crack.

The footsteps were drawing closer.

*Creak—*

The door groaned open, a sharp sound in the stillness of the night.

Hermione’s eyes widened as she peered through the narrow gap. And then, the very next moment she nearly screamed.

Because—

In the midst of the dim, formless gloom— A pair of crimson, eerie eyes suddenly appeared!

________________

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