"Lewis? Lewis? Are you here?"
Not finding him, Harry lowered his voice and called out.
"I'm right here."
Lewis dropped his Invisibility behind them, and the sudden voice nearly made them jump out of their skins.
"L-Lewis! When did you get here?" Ron patted his chest, still shaken. For a moment, he'd thought a professor had caught them.
"About ten minutes ago."
Lewis glanced past them. "What took you so long? Weren't you excited about tonight's duel?"
Behind them stood two figures—one with thick, bushy curls, the other stocky and solid.
"It's all because of Hermione Granger. She insisted on coming. We couldn't stop her."
Ron immediately sounded annoyed.
"You're breaking school rules! I almost told your brother!" Hermione shot back, cheeks puffed with anger. "I never expected you to go along with this either, Mr. Green…"
"But Miss Granger, you're enjoying this too, aren't you?" Lewis said bluntly, exposing her thoughts. "You're breaking the rules right now. Professor McGonagall won't listen to your excuses."
"That's because the Fat Lady isn't in her portrait! I couldn't get back! Neville can prove it!"
Hermione tugged Neville forward, looking wronged.
Lewis only gave her a look that said Sure, I'll pretend to believe that, which made her even more frustrated.
"Mr. Green, you're different from them. You're a top student—professors like you. You don't actually think this ridiculous duel is right, do you?"
Hermione forced down her irritation, trying to persuade him. She had always been patient with people more capable than herself.
"We should stop them together!"
"You're right. I do think this duel is ridiculous."
Lewis nodded.
Before Harry could object, he continued, "But since you've accepted the challenge, you should honor it. That's a matter of personal credibility and dignity."
"If you've read A Guide to Medieval Wizardry, you'd know this tradition rose alongside Muggle chivalry and has been passed down ever since. It's part of wizarding culture now. As Muggle-borns, we should adapt."
Hermione fell silent after hearing that.
Ron, however, looked smug. "I've never seen her this obedient before."
Harry muttered thoughtfully, "So top students only listen to people even better than them…"
He seemed to have discovered how to deal with the know-it-all—find Lewis.
After settling Hermione, Lewis turned to Harry. "Don't think I'm supporting you. I still stand by what I said—what time did Malfoy agree on? It's already this late, and he's not here. He's probably tricking you."
"It's past midnight. They should've been here already… maybe Filch caught them?" Harry guessed.
"Or maybe it was Crabbe. You've seen his size," Ron added.
As a pure-blood, he still didn't believe Malfoy would back out of a duel.
The crystal display cases shimmered under the moonlight.
In the darkness, trophies, shields, medals, and statues gleamed in silver and gold.
The five of them crept along the walls, eyes fixed on both ends of the room.
Harry drew his wand, ready in case Malfoy burst in at any moment.
Time passed slowly.
"Maybe he got scared and didn't come," Ron whispered impatiently.
At that moment, a noise came from the next room.
They all jumped.
Harry raised his wand—
but the voice that followed wasn't Malfoy's.
"Sniff around, my dear… they might be hiding in a corner somewhere."
The five of them immediately tried to slip away quietly—
but clumsy Neville tripped again.
He grabbed Ron's waist in panic, and the two of them crashed into a suit of armor.
Clang! Crash!
The metallic noise echoed loud enough to wake the entire castle.
"Run!" Harry shouted.
All five of them bolted down the corridor.
They rounded pillars, dashed through passage after passage, and finally burst out near the Charms classroom.
"I—I told—you—this—would—happen!" Hermione gasped, clutching her chest.
"I think… we lost him…" Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping sweat from his forehead.
"Mr. Green was right!" Hermione snapped. "Now you see? Malfoy never planned to meet you! Filch knew someone would be in the trophy room—Malfoy must have told him! You shouldn't have come!"
Harry had to admit she was right.
But aside from that, he didn't want to argue with her.
"That sneaky Malfoy! I'll deal with him tomorrow!" Ron's face flushed red. He had been the one pushing for the duel, only to be humiliated like this.
Lewis patted his shoulder. "No need to be so angry. You can turn this against him."
"Tomorrow morning, spread the rumor: 'Malfoy is a coward. He's afraid of the Chosen One and didn't dare show up for the duel. He's disgraced Slytherin and the pure-blood families.' I'm sure your twin brothers would love to help."
"Brilliant!" Ron lit up instantly. "You're right! George and Fred will definitely help. I'll turn him into a joke!"
"Exactly."
Lewis smirked slightly. He didn't dislike Slytherin like the Gryffindors did, but he didn't mind giving Malfoy a little surprise.
"But right now, be careful. I feel like something's coming."
His Divination aptitude stirred faintly.
Just as he finished speaking, a figure popped up in front of them—
A clownish creature with a wide mouth, bright eyes, colorful clothes, a tie, a hat, and slippers split at the toes.
Peeves.
Most students thought Peeves was just another ghost.
But Lewis remembered reading about a magical creature called a poltergeist.
They resembled ghosts, yet weren't truly spirits—something between illusion and reality, capable of physically interacting with objects.
They often appeared in places filled with young people, attaching themselves to buildings or even emerging alongside them.
In fact, Peeves had existed in Hogwarts since its founding.
Poltergeists were never alive—and thus could never die.
But precisely because of that, they weren't immune to magic like ghosts were.
Certain jinxes—like the Tongue-Tying Curse or the Banishing Charm—could affect them.
Lewis was certain Peeves was Hogwarts' poltergeist.
"First-year students sneaking around at midnight~ tsk tsk tsk… naughty, naughty! You'll be caught!"
Peeves cackled gleefully.
Dealing with something that could pass through walls was troublesome.
Hermione, not knowing better, tried to reason with him—
but Lewis remembered a theory from a book: poltergeists were manifestations of chaotic mental energy.
If Peeves was born of mental force, then—
he should be affected by it.
Just as his own mental power had been steadily growing, Lewis had recently developed a new application.
"Mind Spike."
With a thought, psychic energy condensed into a sharp needle and struck Peeves directly.
"AAAAAAAH!!!"
A shrill, agonized scream echoed through the corridor.
The students swore they had never heard Peeves sound so miserable.
"Move!" Lewis seized the moment and led them forward.
They ran all the way to a sealed door ahead.
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