The Great Hall was alive with its usual buzz—students laughing, chatting, and clinking goblets over heaping plates of food. Everything was normal until the sharp crack of a plate hitting the floor silenced the room.

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were standing, glaring daggers at one another from opposite ends of the Hall.

“You’re completely out of line, Potter!” Draco snarled, his pale face flushed with anger, his platinum hair glowing under the enchanted ceiling.

“And you’re as full of it as ever, Malfoy!” Harry shot back, almost ready to leap across the Gryffindor table.

Girls at every corner of the room sighed dreamily, their eyes darting between the furious Golden Boy and the Slytherin Prince. Even in the middle of their rage, both boys looked impossibly handsome—Potter with his messy black hair, Malfoy with his aristocratic sneer and sharp features.

"You don’t want to do this, mate!" Ron hissed, tugging at Harry’s sleeve, while Hermione frantically whispered, "Harry, sit down! Dueling in the Great Hall is not the way to solve this!"

But Harry’s wand was already out, and a faint hum of magic filled the air as Draco mirrored him, a smirk twisting his lips.

Slytherin table

they erupted into whispers and laughter, clearly amused by the brewing fight. “Honestly, this is better than dessert,” Pansy Parkinson muttered, leaning toward Blaise Zabini.

Mattheo Riddle, ever the instigator, nudged {{user}} hard in the ribs. “Go on, {{user}}. If anyone can stop Draco, it’s you. Before he blows the whole place up and takes Potter with him.”

"Why me?" you hissed.

"Because he actually listens to you," Blaise added lazily, swirling his goblet of pumpkin juice. “Sometimes”

The Slytherins were already pushing you up from your seat before you could protest further. Draco’s wand was raised now, his knuckles white with tension. Taking a deep breath, you walked briskly toward him, ignoring the murmurs and curious stares that followed along with the usual dreamy eyes at the two dueling boys