Harry Potter 01 - Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

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 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 any time on my own,’ said Malfoy. ‘Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?’
    ‘Of course he has,’ said Ron, wheeling round. ‘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.
    ‘What is a wizard’s duel?’ said Harry. ‘And what do you mean, you’re my second?’
    ‘Well, a second’s there to take over if you die,’ said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, he added quickly, ‘but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.’
    ‘And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?’
    ‘Throw it away and punch him on the nose,’ Ron suggested.
    ‘Excuse me.’
    They both looked up. It was Hermione Granger.
    ‘Can’t a person eat in peace in this place?’ said Ron.
    Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.
    ‘I couldn’t help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying –’
    ‘Bet you could,’ Ron muttered.
    ‘– and you mustn’t go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you’ll lose Gryffindor if you’re caught, and you’re bound to be. It’s really very selfish of you.’
    ‘And it’s really none of your business,’ said Harry.
    ‘Goodbye,’ said Ron.
    *
    All the same, it wasn’t what you’d call the perfect end to the day, Harry thought, as he lay awake much later listening to Dean and Seamus falling asleep (Neville wasn’t back from the hospital wing). Ron had spent all evening giving him advice such as ‘If he tries to curse you, you’d better dodge it, because I can’t remember how to block them’. There was a very good chance they were going to get caught by Filch or Mrs Norris, and Harry felt he was pushing his luck, breaking another school rule today. On the other hand, Malfoy’s sneering face kept looming up out of the darkness – this was his big chance to beat Malfoy, face to face. He couldn’t miss it.
    ‘Half past eleven,’ Ron muttered at last. ‘We’d better go.’
    They pulled on their dressing-gowns, picked up their wands and crept across the tower room, down the spiral staircase and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them: ‘I can’t believe you’re going to do this, Harry.’
    A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink dressing-gown and a frown.
    ‘You!’ said Ron furiously. ‘Go back to bed!’
    ‘I almost told your brother,’ Hermione snapped. ‘Percy – he’s a Prefect, he’d put a stop to this.’
    Harry couldn’t believe anyone could be so interfering.
    ‘Come on,’ he said to Ron. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole.
    Hermione wasn’t going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose.
    ‘Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.’
    ‘Go away.’
    ‘All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so –’
    But what they were, they