THE MIDNIGHT DUEL
“Well done,” said George in a low voice. “Wood told us. We’re
on the team too — Beaters.”
“I tell you, we’re going to win that Quidditch Cup for sure this
year,” said Fred. “We haven’t won since Charlie left, but this year’s
team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was
almost skipping when he told us.”
“Anyway, we’ve got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he’s found a new
secret passageway out of the school.”
“Bet it’s that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that
we found in our first week. See you.”
Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less
welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.
“Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back
to the Muggles?”
“You’re a lot braver now that you’re back on the ground and
you’ve got your little friends with you,” said Harry coolly. There
was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as
the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more
than crack their knuckles and scowl.
“I’d take you on anytime on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if
you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only — no contact. What’s the
matter? Never heard of a wizards duel before, I suppose?”
“Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling around. “I’m his second,
who’s yours?”
Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.
“Crabbe,” he said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the
trophy room; that’s always unlocked.”
When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each
other.
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