**Chapter 32: Did You Really Think Dumbledore Wouldn’t Rig the System?**

"Potter! Do you dare to face me in a wizard's duel?"

Malfoy sneaked a glance at Dylan, noticing that the latter seemed completely uninterested in the commotion. His eyes lit up.

*Could it be that he's had a falling out with Harry? Heh, that idiot Harry always hangs around with those of lesser status. No wonder he's managed to piss him off!*

With this thought, Malfoy's confidence grew, though he kept his voice low. He hadn't forgotten Dylan's preference for quiet.

Earlier, during the latter half of the flying lesson, Harry and Malfoy had clashed during the inter-house flying assessment. Madam Hooch had been keeping a close eye on them, so neither dared to go too far. But now, after class, Malfoy had suddenly decided to stir up trouble.

Harry, who had never been fond of Malfoy's disdain for his friends, wasn't about to back down. That would mean admitting he was afraid of Malfoy. However, Harry had no idea what a wizard's duel even entailed.

As he was pondering how to respond, Ron suddenly stood up and accepted Malfoy's challenge on Harry's behalf.

"A wizard's duel? Fine, we accept!"

Hermione tried to intervene, but Ron was too quick. By the time she could get a word in, Malfoy and his cronies were already walking away.

Hermione glared at Ron and Harry, who had sat back down and were now whispering to each other.

"A wizard's duel? Are you trying to get our house docked a ton of points? This is against school rules!"

Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "If we're careful, no one will find out."

Hermione looked at him as if he were an idiot. "How can you be so sure you won't get caught? If you do, all the points Dylan and I earned for Gryffindor will be wiped out! You can't be this selfish!"

"We're doing this to make sure Gryffindor doesn't lose face in front of Slytherin!" Harry and Ron turned away, refusing to meet Hermione's gaze.

No matter what Hermione said, it was clear they weren't listening. She then turned to Dylan, who was sitting nearby.

At that moment, Dylan had just finished his last piece of steak, a satisfied look on his face.

*Ah, that hit the spot. Now I'll have more energy for reading later!*

"Hey, they're dead set on this ridiculous duel. I swear, it's like they've been hit with some childish dueling spell! Aren't you going to talk them out of it?"

Dylan blinked at Hermione's question. "Why should I?"

Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief. "To stop them from breaking the rules, of course!"

Dylan glanced at Harry. While Hermione had been pleading with Dylan, Ron and Harry had stopped their loud scheming and were now sneaking glances at him. When they noticed Dylan looking their way, they quickly lowered their heads.

Hermione's warnings had fallen on deaf ears, but if Dylan were to say something…

"My personal opinion, Miss Granger, is that points are merely fleeting annotations in life. They don't define our worth."

Dylan's lips curled into a faint smile as he calmly met Hermione's gaze.

"What truly matters is the focus we bring to earning those points and the sparks of inspiration that ignite when we tackle difficult problems—not the cold, final number."

"If you can understand that points don't define our souls or our lives, I guarantee that by the end of this year, you'll reach heights far beyond what you can currently imagine."

Dylan's voice carried a maturity beyond his years, clear and steady, each word deliberate and unhurried.

Hermione blinked, her mind momentarily blank. She couldn't quite grasp the full meaning of Dylan's words.

*Points are important, aren't they? How could they not matter? And why is Dylan spouting all this philosophical nonsense instead of siding with me?*

"So, you're not going to stop them?"

Dylan shook his head.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Ugh! You boys are impossible! When the House Cup ends up in another house's hands, you'll see how wrong you were!"

With that, she stormed off, leaving the Great Hall in a huff.

Dylan watched her go, shaking his head in resignation.

As for Harry and Malfoy's little feud, Dylan had no intention of getting involved. After all, Harry was the future savior of the wizarding world. A bit of fire in his belly was to be expected.

He hadn't paid much attention when Malfoy had approached Harry earlier, but he'd overheard the whole exchange. The reason he hadn't intervened was twofold: first, he'd been enjoying his dinner, and second, he saw no need to get involved.

As he'd told Hermione, points meant nothing to him. Learning a couple of new spells was far more valuable. Sure, winning the House Cup might earn him another achievement, but…

Even if Harry and Malfoy were caught dueling in the middle of the night, how many points could they possibly lose? Even if they lost all their points…

Dumbledore would never let the House Cup go to another house. He'd just rig the system, and Gryffindor would win anyway. Did anyone really think Dumbledore wouldn't give Harry special treatment?

With Harry around, Dylan didn't need to worry about house politics. He could focus on his magical studies and let Harry handle the rest. It was a win-win situation.

"I knew you wouldn't side with Hermione and let Gryffindor be humiliated by Slytherin!" Ron exclaimed, thrilled that Dylan hadn't tried to stop them. He even made a move to give Dylan a bear hug.

Dylan, who had just stood up from his seat, froze. His calm demeanor vanished, and his eyes widened in alarm.

Ron immediately stopped in his tracks, awkwardly retracting his arms.

"If you want to duel, that's your decision. But whatever consequences come from it, you'll have to face them yourselves."

Dylan's expression returned to its usual calm as he looked at Ron and Harry.

"As your friend, I feel obligated to remind you of that."

After a moment's thought, he added, "And don't assume both houses will lose points if you're caught. The professor who catches you might just be Snape."

"What?!"

Dylan's words sent a shiver down Ron and Harry's spines. The image of Snape's cold, sneering face flashed in their minds.

"I'm off to get some extra lessons from a professor. Good luck."

Dylan picked up his bag, packed his things, and pulled out his notebook. Flipping through its pages, he walked out of the Great Hall.

(End of Chapter)