When the Weasley—be it George or Fred—called out like that, all the upper-year students turned to look. They had only co thinking it would be a light-hearted show, and hadn’t expected to witness sothing this entertaining.
The younger students were equally excited, their gazes darting between Fred and Draco.
One was one of the infamous troublemaking twins whose strength was not to be underestimated, and the other was Draco Malfoy—widely known as the Prince of Slytherin.
Draco himself didn’t react much to what was clearly a challenge. The sa couldn’t be said for Pansy, whose glare could have frozen fire.
But before the fuming Pansy could speak, Draco’s recently acknowledged followers all gave Fred equally hostile looks.
“How rude!”
The one who spoke was Gary Rosier.
The Rosier family had long been known as a combat-driven household among the 28 pure-blood noble families. During the First Wizarding War, nearly every adult Rosier had joined Voldemort’s side—and most had been marked as Death Eaters.
Naturally, Gary, as a Rosier, was far from a mild-mannered wizard. His temper was well known.
Even though he didn’t believe Fred Weasley could beat Draco, Gary still drew his wand and started marching toward Fred with a dark expression, sending a wave of panic through the crowd.
It looked like he intended to knock Fred down before the duel could even begin...
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Planning to fight in his place?”
“Wait a second! This has nothing to do with you!”
As a sixth-year Prefect, Gary’s presence alone was intimidating. Fred’s friends imdiately stepped in, concern written all over their faces—especially George, who quickly moved to stand by his twin’s side.
“Ron, what do we do? He’s a sixth-year Prefect—Fred can’t beat soone like him.”
Harry, too nervous to notice much else, didn’t see that Ron’s eyes were locked on Draco. Nor did he catch the brief, venomous glint that flashed in Ron’s gaze.
Just as Harry had said, there was a clear gap in strength due to the age difference—especially since Slytherin selected its Prefects largely based on power.
“This is ridiculous! He’s bullying him!”
“Figures—it’s always the Slytherins!”
Faced with Gryffindor’s angry shouts, the Slytherins only sneered in response.
Pansy gave an annoyed scoff and rolled her eyes.
“As if Draco’s not a second-year himself.”
They’d all conveniently forgotten that Draco wasn’t a sixth-year either—and had done the exact sa thing to Draco. No wonder Pansy was glaring at the Gryffindors who now cried “unfair.”
And honestly, with how exceptional Draco had always been, it was easy to forget he was only in his second year.
Just as Gary was about to shove through the crowd and confront Fred directly, Draco, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke.
“Gary, stand down.”
“...Yes!”
At Draco’s command, Gary stopped mid-step, paused, and calmly returned to stand behind him without another word.
The whole crowd stared in disbelief. Gary had gone from openly aggressive to perfectly obedient in a heartbeat. The sheer contrast stunned everyone watching.
Was this really the sa Gary who had just been ready to flatten Fred?
The quicker minds in the room imdiately turned their attention to Draco.
Why did Gary follow his word so easily?
None of them noticed the expression on Snape’s face as he stood on the stage—one of concealed pride, twisted into sothing almost smug.
As for Lockhart, his award-winning smile now looked painfully stiff.
They weren’t fools. It wasn’t hard to see what all of this ant...
...
In truth, the mont Gary halted all movent at a single word from Draco, Fred Weasley had already started to hesitate.
Was it Draco’s status that made a sixth-year Prefect obey him so willingly?
Or did Draco have the strength to earn that kind of deference?
Either way, Fred now found himself in a situation he couldn’t back out of...
“Ron, do you think he’ll really...”
“If it’s that guy, there’s no way he’ll back down.”
“Hermione?”
It wasn’t Ron who answered, but Hermione, her expression complicated as she stood nearby.
Clearly, for those like Hermione who understood Draco, there was only one possible answer.
After all—it was Draco.
Step.
“A pitiful attempt at provocation. Are you trying to get revenge for your foolish brother? Or do you really believe I’m the one who opened the Chamber and attacked your loved ones...?”
Draco spoke calmly as he made his way up onto the stage, each word more startling than the last.
And in such a tense atmosphere, the fact that he would even ntion the Chamber of Secrets caused Snape to shoot him a dark glare—while Draco, unbothered, continued to smile.
Around the hall, aside from the suddenly hyped Slytherins, most of the students were looking on with expressions of doubt and unease.
To their stares, Draco responded with nothing more than a soft chuckle as he twirled his wand between his fingers.
“Whatever your reason, co on up. I’ll play along...”
“...”
“...”
The sheer arrogance in his tone—and how clearly he dismissed Fred—instantly ignited the fury of the Gryffindors. Every one of them glared daggers at Draco, as if willing him to burst into flas on the spot.
Even Harry Potter nearly pulled out his wand, ready to give Draco a piece of his mind for acting so smug.
And yet, despite all that, Draco’s composed smirk and quiet confidence continued to draw everyone’s attention.
That slim figure in pale gold, standing with one hand behind his back and a wand in the other, nearly made the entire crowd of young witches scream...
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