; 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.

"Good-bye," 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,

Malfoys 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, 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

bathrobe 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 didn't find out. Hermione had turned to

the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself

facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime

visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor tower.

"Now what am I going to do?" she asked shrilly.

"That's your problem," said Ron. "We've got to go, we 3 re

going to be late."

They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione

caught up with them.

"I'm coming with you," she said.

"You are not."

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch

to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth,

that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."<