A Duel, a Guardian, and a Master’s Game

Harry looked around and shared incredulous looks with the rest of his year mates. "I would never think that, Ronald," Harry said, keeping his voice placating.

"My name's Ron! You're supposed to call me Ron ! We're supposed to be friends !" Ron screamed, reminding Harry of the argument from their first week of school.

Neville, in a fit of bravery, stood. "Listen Ron, I think it's best if you just go," he said.

Ron seemed to make another leap in logic and suddenly turned to Neville, his red face matching his hair.

" You! This is all your fault! If you hadn't stolen Harry from me, he would be in Gryffindor!" Ron shouted.

Neville took a step back at the menacing tone Ron used. "That doesn't make any sense," the blond boy said, adopting a look of confusion.

"Yes, it does! This is all your fault!" Ron shouted, the look on his face turning from rage to triumph. "I challenge you to a wizard's duel - midnight in the trophy room!"

Before Neville could even reply, the redhead stalked off.

The rest of the table sat in silence before sudden whispers broke out.

" You're not going to go, are you?"

" A wizard's duel, how exciting!"

" He's a menace, that one."

Neville turned to face Harry, the look on his face full of anxious confusion. "What just happened?" he said.

Harry held back his laugh at how fate seemed to be determined for events to repeat themselves. "I don't know, mate," he replied.

"I don't have to go, do I? I mean, I don't even know how to duel!" Neville asked, looking slightly pathetic.

"No, you don't have to go," Harry assured.

Neville seemed to perk up at that. "He really is a git," he mumbled.

"I would just love to know what his problem with me is," Harry lied.

"Maybe you should go," Terry piped up, "teach him a lesson."

Neville looked miserable at the thought. "I don't know," Harry said.

"If you do, make sure you don't get caught," Lisa said. "We're doing quite well this year. If you got caught, we would lose so many points."

Harry just shrugged as Neville let out the barest of whimpers, an idea forming in his mind.

"Don't worry Neville, you didn't agree so you don't have to go," Harry assured once again.

That night, walking alone under his cloak, Harry approached the door on the 3rd floor corridor that he knew hid the entrance to the trials. Reaching out with his magic, Harry was not surprised when he felt the ward on the door. 'So Dumbledore had known,'he thought. The ward would alert the caster about whoever passed through it. Dumbledore had known, in his last life, that Harry and his friends had seen the cerberus. Harry searched the ward for any breaks and found a small one that he knew he would be able to manipulate if need be. However, for now, he wanted Dumbledore to think his plan had worked, that Harry was looking for the stone.

Stepping into the room, Harry watched as all three heads turned to him and sniffed before whining in confusion. Harry had taken to using scent and sound blocking charms whenever he used his cloak.

Stepping back out, Harry returned to Ravenclaw tower, making sure to detour passed the trophy room. He watched with amusement as Filch dragged a howling Ron through the corridors, muttering about dungeons and chains.

The next morning, Harry felt somebody staring at him. Looking up, Harry caught Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkling at him. Making sure to look like he was slightly nervous, Harry spent breakfast acting like a child who had seen a monster; hopefully, now Dumbledore would leave him alone as he believed Harry to be on the trail of the stone.

....

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