As the year progressed, Hogwarts began to feel more and more familiar. Harry still missed home of course (he wrote Aunt Petunia and Dudley three times a week), but as September faded to October it finally felt as if he was settling in.
His roommates had become some of his closest friends. Dean was cool and smart, Ron could always be relied upon and Seamus was a blast (literally). Neville also tagged along in their group from time to time, though he had managed to get so behind in his lessons already that he usually spent his free time with a tutor.
The castle turned out to have all sorts of wonderful nooks and crannies. The portraits, Harry found, usually had fascinating stories and the ghosts were always up for a chat. As long as one avoided the resident poltergeist, Peeves (who had a tendency to play rather mean-spirited jokes on students and staff alike); one could usually pass a very pleasant day in the castle.
Gryffindor House, Harry felt, was exceptionally welcoming. It seemed nearly everyone was related to Ron in some way (Ron had hit him when he had voiced that thought). There always seemed to be someone around to help or give directions, or just listen when one become homesick. Fred and George, Ron's twin older brothers, were particularly friendly. They had laughed themselves silly when Ron told them about their first days flying lesson.
"Yes, well, there's always one." George had giggled, clapping Ron on the back, "Just be grateful it wasn't you. If you were rubbish, we'd kick you out of the family."
Ron had just rolled his eyes.
Not everyone was so friendly, however. Malfoy and his band of bullies had become no kinder towards Harry and his friends. In fact, he seemed to take every opportunity to antagonize them. From tripping them in the halls, to knocking books out of their hands, to snorting at their answers in class, Malfoy and his little gang found a thousand petty ways to get under Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Dean's skin.
"You know," Seamus said, picking up his books from where Goyle had knocked them, "I've had just about enough of them."
"Yeah." Ron said, sulking a bit as he nursed his bruised arm.
"There's not much we can do about it." Harry said, "Not without getting in trouble at least."
All three boys stood in the hall, mulling over the truth of Harry's words.
"There you are!" Dean suddenly rounded the corner, "I've been looking everywhere for you lot! It's almost dinner!"
The boys realized that it was, in fact, almost dinner time. None of them were willing to miss it, so they gathered their things and hurried towards the Great Hall. One of the best things about Hogwarts, in Harry's opinion, was the food. He thought that the food in Hogwarts was the best, though he would never tell Aunt Petunia that.
Once the boys had stuffed themselves full, they gathered their things and headed back to the common room.
"You know I don't think flying is that bad really…" Harry was saying as they rounded the last corner before the staircase.
In the hall stood none other than Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, standing over a curled up figure on the ground who Harry immediately recognized as Neville.
"Hey!" He shouted, hurrying forward, "Leave him alone!"
Malfoy turned towards Harry, his eyes narrowed.
"And just what are you going to do about it, Potter?" he sneered.
"It depends on what you've done, really." Dean drawled, taking up a position on Harry's right. Out of the four of them, Dean was the tallest and least likely to get picked on by Malfoy and his gang.
"Yep, we'll consider all of your crimes and come up with a fair way to deal with them." Said Ron, coming up on Harry's left. Seamus shadowed Ron.
Malfoy looked significantly less confident then he had only moments before.
"What's the matter Malfoy?" Harry asked, "Don't like a fair fight?"
Malfoy bristled. "I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact." Harry tried his best not to look confused. Apparently he was not successful.
"What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?" Malfoy sneered.
"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."
The three bullies left, laughing amongst each other. Neville looked up at Harry, "Thanks for standing up for me. You didn't have to get into a duel on my account."
"Don't worry about it Neville," said Harry, clapping the boy on the back, "I'll take care of it. It will be fine." Neville smiled up at him and picked himself off the floor.
When Neville 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. Dean gasped, and catching the look on Harry's face, Ron 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."
Harry was quiet for a second as they continued walking back, "And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"
"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested.
Ron spent the rest evening giving Harry advice such as "If he tries to curse you, you'd better dodge it, because I can't remember how to block them."
Before they went up to the dorm room, Dean pulled him aside, "Seamus and I are coming with you tonight," he held up a hand to stop Harry's protests, "It's just in case. I don't trust Malfoy, I just know he's going to pull something, and I'd rather you and Ron had back-up."
Harry nodded, it did sound like a good idea, "Ok."
That night, Harry couldn't even pretend to get a little sleep. As he listened to Neville snoring lightly, he thought about the evening ahead of him. There was a very good chance they were going to get caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris, 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 bathrobes, picked up their wands, shook Seamus a few times to wake him up ("M'up, M'up") and crept across the tower room, down the spiral staircase, and out of Gryffindor common room.
When they arrived in the trophy room, Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once. The minutes crept by.
"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered. Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Harry had only just raised his wand when they heard someone speak -and it wasn't Malfoy.
"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner." It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice.
Seamus' robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room. "They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."
"This way!" Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. They could hear Filch getting nearer. The group began moving more quickly towards the exit, Harry in the lead. It all fell apart in just one moment.
Harry was not paying attention to the room in front of him. He just rounded the corner outside of the trophy room when he walked directly into a suit of armor. The resulting clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.
"RUN!" Harry yelled, and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following - they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead, without any idea where they were or where they were going - they ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.
"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold classroom wall. Ron was slumped over a desk and Seamus was sitting against the wall, trying the catch his breath.
"I knew he'd try something." Dean sneered, pacing, "Can't believe he would tell on us! Even I wouldn't have thought he'd do that!"
There was a sudden movement through the wall. A brightly colored ghost materialized in the room, with a wide, Cheshire grin. Peeves.
"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."
"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please." Harry begged. He did not relish the thought of being punished because of stupid Malfoy.
"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."
"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves this was a big mistake.
"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE
CHARMS CORRIDOR!"
"You idiot!" screamed Dean as the four of them once more streaked out of the classroom and down another hall. As they stepped into the corridor, Filch's face loomed suddenly out of the darkness.
"Well, well, well," he whispered, "we are in trouble."