You Really Deserve to Die, Harry

Nobody knows why Gryffindor suddenly received extra points from Snape, just as nobody knows why he targeted Gryffindor so much.

The students in Slytherin were the ones who could least accept this fact.

It makes sense. Why did the old professor, who was always as "warm" to Gryffindor as winter, suddenly change his attitude and start giving Gryffindor extra points?

Some students from families with a strong academic background have already connected it to the Imperius Curse, wondering if Professor Snape was under some kind of Mind Control Imperius Curse Charms cast by Hermione.

This is absolutely bizarre!

The Slytherin students were in a daze until the end of class.

Good heavens, this is absolutely terrifying.

"Well done, Hermione," Ron said to Hermione in the Great Hall. "Looks like this method really works. Look, Professor Snape even gave you extra points. You're a genius."

"Thank you so much for finally realizing that," Hermione said proudly, feeling that getting a 20 from Snape was nothing short of legendary.

Of course, she had her reasons for being arrogant, and even the people in Gryffindor who disliked her the most had to admit it.

Unfortunately, Harry didn't get a permit to leave the house.

"I need to remind you, Mr. Potter," Snape called Harry's name in a very typical Slytherin accent, "That is to say, I know you possess some power that even Dumbledore and the Dark Lord cannot control, but the Basilisk is not something a young wizard your age can handle—if the Basilisk from the castle really comes into the Forbidden Forest to hunt, I think it will be you and your few good-for-nothing little Troll friends who will be in trouble."

"Well, Professor," Harry said, turning away listlessly, somewhat disappointed.

Just as he reached the door, he suddenly heard Snape say something that seemed to be to himself.

"Perhaps the equipment at Hogwarts really needs repair. We should take it to Dumbledore's office for a check-up next Monday night."

Harry stopped, but didn't turn around.

He understood Professor Snape's implied meaning and left Snape's office.

When they returned to the Great Hall, Hermione and the others surrounded them.

"How is it, Harry?" they asked anxiously. "What did Professor Snape say?"

"Wait for my news." Harry said with a smile, "Don't worry, I told you Professor Snape was easy to talk to... But we should get ready, tomorrow night is the night Professor Lockhart opens the Dueling Club."

"Got it, Harry." Ron gave an OK sign. "I think I'm doing pretty well now, at least I should be able to beat either Fred or George..."

"You should be more confident," Fred's voice rang in his ears, "My Ronnie little darling."

"Yeah, I think you should be confident," George said from the other side. "You should say, 'I can beat those two clone idiots, Fred and George, easy peasy.'"

"You said it, not me," Ron quickly distanced himself. "You two are even insulting yourselves, that's insane."

"Crazy?" George chuckled. "It's not like my little brother, who's always thinking about how to beat his brothers..."

"What do you know? This is called having ambition!" Ginny started to save Ron's face. "Oh my god, Ron, I really hope you can beat those two idiots—if you can, I'll ask Mom to reward you with a chicken leg."

"Really?" Ron's eyes lit up. "Great! But could we have something else this time? Like, I'd like a flying broom..."

"Let's wait until you become Prefect," Percy said from the side. "Look, Mom bought me an owl for my Prefect... If you become Prefect, Mom will definitely grant your request and buy you a flying broom."

"Yes, that way everyone in the family is Prefect," Ginny said with a smile.

"Hey, Ginny!" George and Fred said in unison, "You know, neither of us could ever be Prefect!"

"Oh, hello, neighbors," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose. "I think unless Dumbledore goes mad, he wouldn't allow two troublemakers like you to be Prefect —and even if Professor Dumbledore goes mad, I think Professor McGonagall would stay sane."

The Twins were a little hurt by what their little sister said.

However, being shameless by nature, the two of them exchanged a glance and burst into laughter. Then they sat down and said to Harry, "Harry, the idea you gave us before was really useful. We secretly sold some trinkets among our classmates, and they were very popular—we earned two Galleon in just one month."

"Two Galleon!" Fred said softly. "You know, even our family vault doesn't have as much money as two Galleon— "

"Yeah, I don't know why we have to have a vault," Ron said, scoffing. "It's like we have some money in our house that needs to be kept safe..."

"But I don't think our family can stay this poor forever," Percy chimed in. "I think our great-grandfather, Gareth Weasley, must have some money in Gringotts, I mean... a lot of money."

"Really?" Fred and George asked in unison.

They really need money right now, and if they can find the treasure left by their great-grandfather, then the start-up capital will no longer be a problem.

Don't tell.

After they said that, Harry also realized that it was true.

A hundred years ago, the Weasley family were not poor—especially after Gareth entered fifth grade, when he became increasingly well-off and would often buy a bunch of snacks and invite Gareth to share them.

Sometimes Harry could even see him pull a stack of Galleon out of his pocket and play with them in his hand...

How could the Weasley family, with their wealth, possibly be short of money?

Harry recalled how Gareth bought a Galleon ice cream without batting an eye... Well, he must have some kind of vault in Gringotts, but didn't have time to leave it for the Weasley family.

Should we ask Bodric? He felt it was indeed necessary.

"I think he definitely will," Ron nodded solemnly. "My great-grandfather was a fairly well-known wizard in the Magical World; how could he not have money?"

"That is."

Ginny said the same thing, but then she suddenly broke down.

"Hey, do you guys think it's possible that Great-Grandpa's safe has already been discovered by Mom and Dad, but they don't want to tell us?"

"Definitely not." This time it was Fred, always the mischievous one, who spoke. "If we had that money, we would have spent it long ago. Why would we wait until today?"

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

"That's just my parents' personality; they never plan to leave any money," Percy said, shrugging. "Instead of struggling to save, it's better to live happily in the moment..."

Harry remembered that sentence and planned to ask Bodric that night.

Since it's Friday, everyone is rather relaxed.

Saturdays and Sundays are holidays, so who would study so hard then?

Harry got out of bed around 7:00, made an excuse to go for a walk, and then went to the spot on the second floor where the Basilisk had appeared and waited for a while.

He planned to wait and try his luck; it would be great if he could find it, but it wouldn't matter if he didn't.

After waiting for over an hour without any sign of the Basilisk, Harry had no choice but to go to the Room of Requirement.

He drank the Ageing Potion and activated Bodric's Two-way mirror.

"Mr. Potter," Bodric greeted him very politely.

Harry nodded slightly, quite pleased with Bodric's politeness.

"Mr. Bodric," Harry said, getting straight to the point, "I have a question for you about an old friend of mine from a hundred years ago."

"Please speak," Bodric said, his expression turning serious. He couldn't quite figure out what this ruthless man meant.

Asking the Goblin to settle accounts? But that doesn't seem like the attitude.

Therefore, Bodric had to be careful in dealing with the situation, partly out of fear of Harry's Charms, and partly because he was indeed in the wrong—after all, the couple's joint property had disappeared due to their negligence.

"I had a very good friend back then named Gareth Weasley." Harry tapped his fingers on the table. "If I remember correctly, he had a vault in Gringotts —not the one the Weasley family uses now."

Bodric immediately replied, "Yes, sir, I'll arrange for someone to investigate right away. Please be patient."

After saying that, Bodric put down the Two-way mirror and turned to instruct someone to contact Gringotts.

About half an hour later, the result was obtained from the other end of the Two-way mirror.

"Mr. Potter," Bodric said, looking beaming.

"You seem so happy, there must be a result?" Harry asked.

"Yes, yes, sir," Bodric said with a smile. "Guess what happened? Mr. Weasley. Gareth Weasley did leave a sum of money in Vault 709... I had it counted, and there were 24,214 Galleon in total, along with a Notebook."

"Notebook?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Yes, the Notebook." Bodric nodded. "The Notebook seems to contain some things about Weasley, but we don't know exactly what it says—after all, as you know, Gringotts fully respects its customers' privacy."

"Yes," Harry nodded.

"But Mr. Weasley's will says that this portion of the money..." Bodric looked up and said cautiously, "Is yours..."

"It's mine?!" Harry frowned. He never expected Gareth to leave this money to him.

"Yes, along with that notebook, there's also a letter Gareth Weasley left for you," Bodric sighed, then said to Harry. "As for the vault's token, it's yourself."

Harry was taken aback.

However, after thinking for a moment, he still said, "How about this, you amend Gareth's will to say that this money is an inheritance left by Gareth Weasley to the Weasley family..."

At this point, Harry suddenly remembered what Percy had said.

"My parents never planned to save money..."

"So, let's say Gareth Weasley's will states that they can take two hundred Galleon from the vault each year as a limit to improve their lives," Harry said.

"Okay, I understand, Mr. Potter." Bodric was very emotionally intelligent; he knew what it meant to not ask questions that shouldn't be asked.

As Goblin, especially one of the intelligent ones, he possesses professional qualities.

"As for the Notebook and Gareth's letter," Harry said to Bodric, "You can send them to the Malfoy Manor and have Lucius keep them for me. I'm a bit inconvenient right now."

"Understood, sir," Bodric said quickly. "You still need to search for the Basilisk in Greece —but I have a small request to make..."

As he spoke, Bodric rubbed his fingers together, revealing a shrewd expression.

"You say it," Harry said noncommittally.

"I know that for someone as powerful as you, a small Basilisk is not a difficult thing to deal with. So after you deal with the Basilisk Basilisk, if there are any materials from it that are difficult to process, Gringotts will help you solve this problem—of course, Gringotts will offer Mr. Potter the utmost sincerity." A shrewd glint flashed in Bodric's eyes.

"I'll think about it." Harry didn't rush to agree.

"Then I wish Mr. Potter all the best." After saying this, Bodric exchanged a few more pleasantries with Harry and hung up the Two-way mirror.

The next morning, Harry was still half asleep in bed when Hedwig pecked him awake.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Harry reached out and rubbed Hedwig's back. "Why are you biting my ear?"

Hedwig couldn't speak, but she whimpered twice and tugged at Harry's ear, gesturing for him to look at the bag by the bed.

Harry put on his glasses, rubbed his eyes groggily, and saw the mailbag from the Malfoy Manor.

If nothing unexpected happens, this should contain Gareth's letters and Notebook.

Harry opened the mailbag, and inside was exactly what he expected.

He glanced at his roommates who were still fast asleep, took his Notebook and letters, went outside, and found a secluded corner to see what was written on them.

First was Gareth's letter.

Dear brother Harry:

By the time you read this letter, I may already be dead—I think you'll be very sad, but don't be too upset, after all, death is just another great adventure.

Miss Grindelwald has somehow determined the time of your return. I know you don't have much money, so I left you some in Gringotts. You've experienced the feeling of asking Headmaster Black for a scholarship before, and it probably wasn't pleasant.

Please forgive me for not going with them to find you. After all, I'm the only male left in our family—my father wouldn't allow me to do that.

Also, I need to remind you that when you see some letters left in the Room of Requirement, don't assume that Miss Malfoy didn't come looking for you—you probably can't imagine that the person who was saddened the most after you disappeared was actually her, my God... Anyway, trust me, she will definitely come looking for you.

It's worth mentioning that Pabbie Sweeting seems to have disappeared as well, the Hufflepuff girl who always liked to stare at you.

If possible, try to find her in the Forbidden Forest. Hopefully, she won't suffer the same tragic fate as the Garrick you and Miss Grindelwald described.

One last thing, you're a real jerk.

Your faithful

Gareth Weasley

10, 1901

Harry put down the letter, a deep sadness filling his heart.

Although he already knew of Gareth's passing, he still couldn't help but feel sad when he saw the letter.

For him, a hundred years ago at Hogwarts was only a year and a half ago, and he and Gareth had only not seen each other for a year and a half, yet more than a hundred years had passed.

He and most of his friends are now separated by death.

Harry folded the letter and tucked it behind Gareth's Notebook.

He especially remembered Gareth's words: good brothers usually only joke with him, but never really lie to him—but how did he know that Cassandra would definitely travel back a hundred years to find him?

However, Harry didn't think too much about it. This matter wasn't important. What was important was that even his oblivious best friend Gareth had realized that Cassandra wanted to come to him a hundred years in the future—why hadn't he thought of this back then?

Harry sighed, feeling a little sad but also very touched.

He was saddened that he would never see Gareth again, but touched that his good brother truly cared about him.

With that in mind, he opened the Notebook.

The first page of the Notebook contained information about Gareth's income and expenses.

This looks like an account book, he thought.

The first-year account book... well, allowance of one Galleon, twelve Sickle, and three Knut. That's all the allowance Gareth for a semester.

Harry was a little puzzled. It seemed that the Weasley family weren't wealthy a hundred years ago, so why did they have so much money later?

Thinking this, he saw what was behind him.

At Christmas, 10 Galleon were deposited.

Note: Harry is my best friend, how could I leave him and go home for Christmas? But Miss Malfoy gave me so much, God help her.

Oh, and may you also bless Harry.

There's a short note at the end, which roughly means that Miss Malfoy gave him 50 Galleon to run errands and buy fireworks.

Harry could tell that Gareth had written this sentence with absolute sincerity, after all, the force with which he wrote it was so strong that it pierced through the back of the paper.

Harry:...

No, wait a minute?

Something doesn't seem right.

Dude, so you went home for Christmas because you received ten Galleon from Young Lady Malfoy?

Harry was wearing a mask of pain, feeling that his friendship with Gareth might be in trouble.

He recalled Gareth's genuine concern at the door, and then he remembered Cassandra's haughty face.

Was this also part of your plan, Cassandra?

Harry continued reading.

"During the summer holidays, Miss Malfoy gave me twenty Galleon and told me not to say a word—good heavens, she was so generous! How could someone as generous and kind as her be unkind to Harry?"

Harry:...

Oh, so that's how it is.

It was the same after that. At Christmas, he would receive 10 Galleon to tell Gareth to hurry home, and during summer vacation, he would receive 20 Galleon to tell him to shut up.

How did Gareth manage to save up over 20,000 Galleon with such a small amount of money?

Harry was somewhat puzzled.

Until he saw the fifth grade.

It must be admitted that fifth grade was indeed Gareth's year of great wealth, because in that year, not only Cassandra came along, but also Veratia...

Here's how things unfolded.

"It's hard to imagine that besides Miss Malfoy, there was another generous lady—she was incredibly generous, always able to offer twice as much as Miss Malfoy to get information about Harry from me."

"Good heavens, a hundred Galleon, and I have to give her a detailed account of Harry's preferences? I'm just... uh, Harry? Who's Harry? Oh, he'll be fine."

"But I think I shouldn't continue like this. I should tell Miss Malfoy about this—tell her that there is a Miss Grindelwald who has her eye on Harry."

"As for Harry? He'll be fine."

"When I was training for the Imperius Curse, Miss Malfoy gave me ten Galleon to leave Harry —ha, Harry thought I was firmly protecting him, but he didn't know that I had already become Galleon's slave..."

"But to be honest, I'd rather see Harry caught in the middle between the two of them than Galleon —ah, that blockhead."

"However, I certainly wasn't satisfied with ten Galleon. After I left, I told Miss Grindelwald about Harry and Malfoy being alone, and naturally—I received fifty Galleon as a reward."

"Seeing Miss Malfoy and Miss Grindelwald sparking so much excitement over Harry in the Great Hall made me feel so accomplished! Oh my god!"

"Oh my god, I think I might be a pervert—but I'm so excited!"

"And so, I became the eyes and ears of both Miss Malfoy and Miss Grindelwald, helping them compete for Harry's time, especially during Christmas in the fifth year. After Miss Malfoy got angry with Harry, Miss Grindelwald actually gave me a chance to be alone with Miss Wendis from Ravenclaw as payment for me to trick... to persuade Harry to go to the Austro-Hungarian Empire with her for Christmas."

Harry's fists clenched when he saw this.

Good heavens, so there was such a despicable traitor by my side!

I was wondering why Cassandra was able to track my every move so precisely, and why Veratia could always appear at the perfect moment when Cassandra and I were alone...

So it was you, kid!

But Harry was stunned when he saw what came next.

"However, I refused. Harry had clearly angered Miss Malfoy, and I felt I should do something to prevent Harry from completely siding with the other side—so I decided to serve Miss Malfoy for free."

"But unfortunately, Miss Malfoy was too disappointing and was completely defeated by the unexpected Miss Grindelwald... So I think that at this time I should help the weak and fight the strong and become a childhood friend."

"But not long after the School Opening of sixth grade, Harry disappeared, making my plan impossible to carry out—good heavens, I feel like I could have lived the rest of my life happily, just trying to balance things out between the three of them, if Harry hadn't disappeared..."

"But then again, I feel bad for Harry —after all, Miss Grindelwald and Miss Malfoy are both equally outstanding, it's really a difficult choice..."

That concludes my notes.

Harry was both annoyed and amused. He was annoyed that his good friend had been playing him for so long, and amused that even Cassandra and Veratia hadn't noticed his good friend's invisible hand.

That's amazing, Gareth.

Who would have thought that Gareth, with his thick eyebrows and big eyes, would be such a funny guy?

Harry sighed and closed the Notebook with a sigh of resignation.

What else can I say?

However, he wasn't foolish enough to take the Notebook to the Map Chamber to question Veratia, and of course, there wasn't much to question anyway.

If you're going to blame Gareth... well, that's not entirely true.

He just had a slightly wicked sense of humor; in a way that Harry was unwilling to admit, he was actually quite grateful to him.

Of course, Harry certainly didn't want to think about what he was unwilling to admit.

Harry put away his Notebook and decided to go outside for some fresh air.

Actually, there's nothing wrong with getting some fresh air, right? Scabbers?

Harry reached out and grabbed Scabbers, a mouse that was passing by, and held it up to his face.

But for some reason, after he grabbed Scabbers, she let out a howl like a chicken being killed.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry quickly put it on the ground to prevent it from accidentally killing the old rat.

However, the mouse couldn't speak human language, or at least it didn't seem to. After Harry put it on the ground, it ran away without giving Harry any chance to stop it.

"Harry?"

Ron's voice came from behind, sounding completely half asleep.

The night before, they played Wizard Chess late into the night in the Common Room.

After all, they are only second-grade students, so it's perfectly normal for them to be a little playful.

"Can you see my Scabbers?" Ron asked, rubbing his eyes.

"It just passed by me," Harry said truthfully. "I picked it up, and it started squeaking in fear. After I put it down, I don't know where it went."

"Oh, I see." Ron nodded. "We all know that rat is a bit of a coward, but oh well, he'll always come back, won't he?"

"Yes," Harry nodded. "I think you're right, it will come back."

After dinner, amidst much anticipation, Professor Lockhart's Dueling Club made its grand entrance.

The long dining tables that were originally in the Great Hall disappeared, and a gilded stage appeared along one wall, illuminated by hundreds of candles floating in the air.

The ceiling turned as black as velvet once again, and it shimmered with something like a nebula, which was quite beautiful.

Almost all the students in the school came, crowding together, each holding their own wand, their faces full of excitement as they eagerly awaited Professor Lockhart's arrival.

"We can't possibly only have one professor, can we?" Hermione said expectantly from the side. "I mean, besides Professor Lockhart —he has to have an opponent, right? I'm guessing it'll be Professor Flitwick. I heard that Professor Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young."

"That's hard to say," Ron said with a smile. "I'd rather Professor Lockhart's opponent be Professor Snape, so Lockhart could flatten his big nose..."

"Well said, Weasley," Snape's voice came from behind Ron.

Ron turned around in alarm, only to meet Professor Snape's smile.

"Well, Gryffindor will lose two points for talking badly about the professor behind his back, Mr. Weasley." Professor Snape grinned sinisterly, his black robe billowing as it billowed aside.

A short while later, Professor Lockhart, dressed in a crimson robe, entered the Great Hall, looking radiant.

Beside him was Professor Flitwick, taking small, quick steps, clearly struggling to keep up with Lockhart's long strides.

Professor Lockhart stepped onto the podium and gave everyone his signature smile.

"Welcome, welcome to my Dueling Club —as I have said in class, Professor Dumbledore has allowed me to open this little Dueling Club to train you all thoroughly in case you need to defend yourselves one day, in the way I have used countless times—for details, please see my published works."

"Please allow me to introduce our special guest for this Dueling Club," Professor Lockhart continued with a smile, "Professor Flitwick Filius, a former Duel Tournament champion! He's here to share some dueling tips and tricks with you."

Professor Flitwick walked onto the stage and waved to the audience.

Everyone applauded, giving the professor of the Charms the warmest round of applause.

The Ravenclaw students, in particular, cheered and applauded, looking happy and proud.

"And Professor Snape Severus Snape!" Lockhart continued, "He told me that he himself knew a little about dueling, and he generously agreed to help me with a small demonstration before class."

"But I'm telling you, I don't want you little ones to worry—after I'm done demonstrating with him, I'll return your Potions Master to you unharmed, so don't be afraid!"

"I wish he'd taken Snape's bones out of his body," Ron muttered, his memory failing him. "If you threw them into Potions cauldron, you could make a perfect potion of poison..."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

Hermione was the same; she gently punched Ron with her hand while chuckling softly, looking genuinely delighted.

Professor Snape seemed to sense that they were laughing at him, and gave them a sinister look, but said nothing.

"I think I should have Professor Flitwick explain to everyone what Wizard's Duel is," Professor Lockhart raised his hand to signal everyone to be quiet. "After all, although I know a lot about dueling, I still feel somewhat inadequate when facing a master duelist."

Professor Flitwick stepped forward and said in a shrill voice, "Listen carefully—the duel consists of the following steps: first, bow to each other, hold your wands and stand to the sides, then begin your attack after counting to three—during the duel, absolutely no physical contact is allowed, and I hope you understand this."

"Now, Professor Snape and Professor Lockhart will demonstrate how Wizard's Duel is conducted!" Professor Flitwick said again.

As soon as he finished speaking, Lockhart and Snape stood on the dueling platform and bowed to each other.

Then, they held their wands like arrows in front of their chests and walked away.

They walked to the edge of the dueling ring, and with Professor Flitwick counting down, their duel officially began.

Professor Snape struck a flamboyant pose and shouted, "Disarming Charm!"

A dazzling red light emanated from the tip of his wand, shooting straight towards Professor Lockhart.

Suddenly, a hemispherical transparent shield appeared in front of Professor Lockhart, blocking Professor Snape's Charms.

"Disarming Charm!" Professor Lockhart retorted, unleashing a Charms in response.

The two sides traded blows, evenly matched, and under the rules set by Professor Lockhart, they could not use any Charms —only Disarming Charm.

The duel lasted for four or five minutes, with neither side showing any signs of weakness.

"Alright, I declare the duel a draw!" Professor Flitwick shouted. "A fine duel indeed! If you two were still students, I think I would certainly award your respective houses extra points!"

"It's not too late now, Filius." Professor Snape smirked, seemingly quite displeased with Professor Flitwick's verbal sparring.

Professor Flitwick gave him a disapproving look but remained silent.

"Alright, alright," Professor Lockhart smiled and gestured. "I think you all understand now. Next, I'd like to invite a few students to come up on stage—anyone want to challenge each other? Don't worry, you can challenge anyone you want here!"

Ron was the first to step forward, shouting, "Professor, I want to challenge my brother, Fred!"

"Oh my God, Ronnie little darling!" Fred shouted back, "I'm really heartbroken—"

A burst of laughter erupted from the crowd, everyone eagerly anticipating Fred's response.

Sure enough, being a fun-loving person, Fred would never refuse to publicly torture his good younger brother.

He jumped onto the dueling platform and beckoned to Ron.

"Come on, Ronnie little darling —don't go easy on me just because I'm your brother!"

Ron snorted and stood on the dueling platform.

"What I need to say is, Ron," Professor Lockhart said, frowning, "You're only a second-year student. Isn't it unwise to challenge a fourth-year student? I'm sure Fred won't go easy on you just because you're his brother."

"Don't worry, Professor, I'm going to beat my next-door neighbor today—" Ron's eyes burned with a fierce fighting spirit.

No one knew what "next-door neighbor" meant, but Ginny laughed, laughed loudly.

Percy sat down beside him, trying hard to suppress his laughter, as if it were something funny.

Some classmates who were curious went up to him to ask what he meant, but Percy kept his mouth shut and had no intention of telling anyone about it.

Following Lockhart and Snape's example, Ron and Fred stood close together and bowed to each other.

Then, they held their wands to their chests and turned to walk away.

They walked to the edge of the dueling ring, and with Professor Flitwick counting down, their duel officially began.

"Expelliarmus (Disarming Charm)!"

Ron cast a Charms first, aiming straight for Fred.

However, Fred, who was good at pranks, was also obviously very agile, and dodged Ron's Charms in an extremely unscientific and unmagical way.

"Well done, Ronnie little darling!" Fred laughed heartily, pointing at Ron: "Rictumsempra!"

Ron quickly dodged Fred's spell.

"Fred! Only Disarming Charm are permitted!" he shouted.

"Yes, Fred," Professor Lockhart added, "I completely understand your desire to teach your brother a lesson, but a duel is a duel. No Charms other than those for Shield Charm and your Disarming Charm are permitted!"

Fred shrugged. He had originally intended to deliver another blow to his Densaugeo, to teach this foolish younger brother the consequences of angering his good older brother.

Ron didn't give him a chance to think carefully, unleashing two consecutive attacks with his Disarming Charm, forcing Fred to defend himself and making it difficult for him to dodge.

Finally, Ron cast another Disarming Charm, and Fred's wand flew into Ron's hand, twirling like flowers.

"I won, Fred next door," Ron said with a grin. "Your wand is in my hands now!"

Fred couldn't help but smile; he didn't feel angry at all, and even felt a little happy.

"Well done, Ronnie little darling," he said.

The audience below applauded. They could tell that Fred wasn't holding back, but rather that Ron was indeed quite strong—to be fair, those Disarming Charm were indeed very tricky to dodge.

"Well, everyone saw that!" Professor Lockhart exclaimed. "That's the Disarming Charm —as you can see, Fred lost his wand, and it flew into Ron's hand."

"This is just a duel between friends," Professor Lockhart said again. "But what about in real combat? Most wizards, once disarmed, are worse than Muggle —because they lose their wands."

"But only a few wizards have mastered the most difficult skill in the wizarding world: Wandless Magic." Professor Lockhart smiled at everyone. "As far as I know, there is a master of Wandless Magic at Hogwarts. Can you guess who he is?"

"Who is it?" Everyone's interest was piqued.

Soon, someone nearby reminded them, "My God, who else could it be but Headmaster Dumbledore? He's the most powerful wizard in the world!"

"Perhaps so." Professor Lockhart neither denied nor confirmed it. In his opinion, Professor Dumbledore was definitely not the most powerful wizard in the world.

Of course, all he could do was talk the talk, because the wizard he considered the strongest was now being played with by ants in Nurmengard.

"Let's continue with the grouping. Anyone else want to take on the challenge?" Professor Lockhart clapped his hands, but he kindly reminded you, "I suggest you don't challenge Mr. Finnegan. After all, his Charms seem to be very fond of explosions. If you don't want your little hands blown off, then don't challenge him for now."

"Professor!" Seamus retorted, clearly dissatisfied.

How could he possibly blow up someone 'Disarming Charm? After several months of practice, he has successfully corrected this flaw.

Of course, his Disarming Charm has a side effect: it can disarm others by exploding their weapons—not necessarily by detonating their own, but it will definitely make them lose their wands.

Draco stepped forward.

"Weasley?" He waved at Ron. "Come on, shall we have a duel?"

Ron did not reject his offer. After all, at this time and in this context, refusing Draco would mean that Gryffindor bow down to Slytherin.

This is something no Gryffindor can tolerate; they may bow to anyone, but they cannot bow to Slytherin.

He stood on the dueling platform, facing Draco directly.

"Don't be too angry, Weasley," Draco said softly. "I just—it was a friendly duel, nothing more."

"You'd better be." Ron snorted and bowed to Draco.

After bowing, the two went to the edge of the dueling platform.

However, just as Professor Flitwick counted to three, Draco waved his wand and cast a Disarming Charm.

"Expelliarmus (Disarming Charm)!"

Just as Draco was feeling smug, thinking he was about to make a name for himself, he didn't expect Ron to nimbly dodge to the side.

Cedric's face darkened as he recalled how Harry had previously disciplined him.

Even if you follow the rules yourself, you must always be wary of others breaking them.

After all, life is only once; a duel that is too conventional will only bring tears to the eyes of loved ones.

"Malfoy!" Ron roared, "Disarming Charm!"

A beam of red light struck Draco's arm, and the wand flew gracefully into Ron's hand.

"You lost." Ron grinned at Draco and tossed the wand back to him.

Draco walked away dejectedly, still hoping to win this duel against Weasley.

But clearly, his plan failed, and even without martial ethics, he could not achieve victory.

However, from an angle he didn't notice, a hint of disgust flashed in Pansy Parkinson's eyes.

"Weasley!" "Weasley!" "Weasley!" "Weasley!"

Cheers erupted as the Gryffindor students chanted Ron's name, celebrating his winning streak.

Fred and George even jumped onto the dueling ring and danced around like Veela at Quidditch Cup, wiggling their hips and winking at each other, making the atmosphere even more heated.

These two are such a handful...

Harry shook his head and smiled wryly. It should be said that the Twins ' personalities were indeed very similar to Gareth's.

Gareth is the same way; he loves to play pranks and joke around, and sometimes he likes to play a little joke or a prank.

If Gareth were replaced by either of them, they could probably earn even more commission from Cassandra and Veratia without any qualms.

"Anyone else who wants to duel?" Professor Lockhart called out again, raising one hand high and waving it around, asking, "Any more volunteers?"

Just then, a person stepped out from Slytherin and stood on the dueling platform.

"Granger, I challenge you," she said.

Everyone looked up and saw it was Slytherin's Pansy Parkinson.

"Parkinson?" Draco whispered from below. "When did she go up there? Oh my god, does she really think she can beat that Granger?"

Although reluctant to admit it, Draco felt that Pansy really didn't stand much of a chance against Granger, who Muggle-born.

Not to mention Draco, even the other Slytherin classmates didn't think highly of Pansy Parkinson.

Miss Know-it-all's name was well-known in Slytherin —partly because she won twenty points from Professor Snape as a non- Slytherin; and partly because this little girl really was a know-it-all.

On the train, a first-grader was already adept at using the Petrifying Spell to attack his classmates—not to mention first graders, many older students didn't know this Charms.

Miss Farley frowned; she had a feeling that something was off about Pansy.

She subtly moved closer to the side, reached out and grabbed Harry's sleeve, pulling him aside.

Harry noticed Miss Farley's movement and asked in a low voice, "What's wrong, Miss Farley?"

"I feel something's not right," Miss Farley said softly. "I really can't understand where she got the courage to challenge Miss Granger. You know, apart from her clumsy Dueling Techniques, Miss Granger knows more Charms than most fourth-year students."

"Take your time and see." Harry didn't think much of it; perhaps it was just the morbid obsession of Pure-blood.

Holding a grudge against Hermione for embarrassing her last semester, she crammed on dueling knowledge and wanted to get revenge now, which is quite understandable.

Hermione looked up, unsure why Pansy had come to her.

But she couldn't refuse. On one hand, there was the pride of Academic Bully, and on the other hand, after practicing in the Dueling Club for so long, she wasn't afraid of Parkinson.

So she stood on the dueling platform, in front of Pansy Parkinson.

"Excellent! Excellent!" Professor Lockhart looked at Pansy and Hermione with excitement and said with a smile, "Our dueling stage has finally welcomed two Lady — Miss Granger Hermione Granger from Gryffindor and Miss Parkinson Pansy Parkinson from Slytherin. Let's give them a round of applause!"

Amidst the applause and cheers, Pansy gave Hermione a sly smile.

Hermione felt a little uncomfortable; that smile... didn't seem to be hiding anything good.

Sure enough, she heard Pansy's voice.

"Mudblood, I'm going to teach you a lesson," Pansy whispered.

Hermione looked up, surprised that Pansy would provoke her like this.

"I'll wait and see," Hermione sneered.

The two bowed to each other—but neither actually bowed, they simply nodded and turned to the edge of the dueling platform.

However, before Professor Flitwick could even say "start, "Pansy's voice rang out.

"I think you should know manners, Miss Granger... Didn't Professor Lockhart and Professor Flitwick just teach you the basic etiquette of dueling? I mean... bow!"

Hermione suddenly felt an overwhelming pressure pressing down on her back, forcing her to bend over.

She fought desperately against the force, trying not to give in, and bowed to Pansy.

(Please vote for me, the timing was wrong...)

(The last 4000 words are an extra chapter for when the monthly vote reaches 2000)

Happy Birthday, Hagrid!