Here's the improved version of Chapter 13 – Midnight
After Mrs. Hooch took Neville away, Malfoy began provoking the Gryffindor students. Ryan found it difficult to understand how someone who prided himself on his noble blood in the wizarding world could behave no better than a street thug when dealing with people.
Not long after, Malfoy flew up with Neville's Remembrall and taunted Harry Potter. Hermione tried to stop Harry from reacting recklessly, but she was unsuccessful.
A tense aerial chase followed, with Harry ultimately recovering Neville's Remembrall—only for Professor McGonagall to take it away.
On their way back to the castle, Hermione looked worried. "They wouldn't really expel Harry, would they?"
"Probably not," Ryan replied. "At worst, it was a minor mistake. No reasonable school would expel a student over something so trivial."
"But how could Harry do something so reckless? Didn't he think about how many points it would cost us before he flew up?"
Ryan stopped and turned to look at her. "I know you care about the House Cup and the academy's honor. But in that situation, Malfoy's bullying was disgusting, and Harry was simply standing up for what was right. It's hard to blame him for acting on his sense of justice."
Hermione frowned. "You may have a point, but I still don't understand why boys are so impulsive. Why not let the professors handle it?"
Shaking her head, she walked off toward the Great Hall.
Since flying class was the last lesson of the day, most students were already gathering for dinner. When Ryan entered the hall, he saw Harry and Ron sitting at their usual table, with Malfoy saying something to them.
Hermione was already there, speaking to Harry. "You can't sneak out at night!" she said firmly.
Ryan walked over and sat next to Harry and Ron.
Ron turned to him. "You're not going to try and talk us out of it like Hermione, are you?"
"No, I'm not," Ryan said. "But have you considered the possibility that Malfoy won't show up and will instead alert the teachers to get you into trouble? After all, Ron, you're always saying Slytherins are cunning."
Ron hesitated, his expression shifting slightly. "No, he wouldn't do that. The Malfoys are one of the oldest pure-blood families. He wouldn't be so shameless as to break the rules of a wizard's duel he himself proposed."
Ryan turned to Harry.
Harry sighed. "Ryan makes a good point—it's possible Malfoy is setting us up. But if we don't go, he'll mock us forever."
Then, as if struck by an idea, Harry added, "Ryan, your spellwork was really good when you saved Neville today. Why don't you come with us? That way, we'll have another set of eyes to watch for teachers."
Ryan hesitated. This was an important moment in the main storyline. If he wanted to strengthen his relationship with the Child of Luck in this world, joining them might be a good idea.
After a brief moment of consideration, he agreed. They arranged to meet in the common room at 11:30 p.m.
Excitement bubbled in Ryan's chest. A midnight adventure at Hogwarts was practically a Gryffindor tradition. Besides, even if they were caught, the worst that would happen was losing a few points or doing some extra chores. It wasn't that serious.
Later that evening, back in the common room, Neville had returned from the hospital wing. His injuries seemed less severe than in the original timeline. Upon seeing Ryan, Neville stumbled over in gratitude, grabbing his hand and thanking him repeatedly. Ryan reassured him before heading to bed.
At 11:30 p.m., Ryan slipped out of bed as quietly as possible. His roommates were fast asleep. Opening the door carefully, he saw Harry and Ron emerging from their own dormitory.
They exchanged quiet greetings before creeping toward the portrait hole. Just as they neared it, the glow of a nearby lamp illuminated a figure sitting there in pink pajamas—Hermione.
She frowned at them. "I can't believe you're actually doing this. Especially you, Ryan! How did you get mixed up with them?"
Ryan shrugged. "Relax, sneaking around at night is part of life at Hogwarts. Look at the older students—how many of them haven't gone on a nighttime adventure at least once? We're just following tradition. Besides, I've never seen a wizard's duel before."
"Shut up," Hermione snapped. "If you don't go back right now, I'll write to your parents."
She climbed through the portrait hole after them. "Don't you care about winning the House Cup? I've worked too hard to see you all throw away our points like this."
Ryan grinned. "Don't worry, if we lose points, I'll help earn them back. I swear."
They continued bickering as they crawled through the passage.
Finally, Hermione huffed. "Fine! I give up." She turned to head back to the dormitory, only to realize with horror that the portrait was empty. The Fat Lady was gone for the night.
"Oh no! What do I do?" she asked, panicked.
"That's your problem," Ron said unsympathetically. "We need to go before we're late."
Hermione crossed her arms. "Well, since you've already broken the rules, I might as well go with you. It's safer than standing here alone."
Ryan smirked. Sometimes, the best way to stop someone from tattling was to drag them into the mischief as well.
Ron groaned. "Why?"
"At least now we'll have two extra eyes to watch for trouble," Ryan reasoned. "We need all the help we can get avoiding the teachers."
"Fine," Harry whispered. "Let's just keep quiet, or we'll get caught before we even leave the tower."
They moved cautiously through the castle, taking careful steps down darkened corridors.
After ten tense minutes, they reached the third-floor trophy room, its many medals and plaques gleaming under the moonlight.
Harry and Ron slipped inside while Ryan and Hermione stood at the doorway, keeping watch. Every so often, they peeked out to scan the corridor.
Time ticked by.
Suddenly, Ryan spotted a shadow moving down the hall. A cat leapt from the staircase—Mrs. Norris. Not far behind, a limping figure emerged—Filch.
Ryan nudged Hermione, who gasped softly. They crept back inside to warn the others.
The four of them hurried toward the opposite door, trying to stay silent.
But Filch seemed to have noticed something. His footsteps quickened.
Then, disaster struck—Ron tripped over a suit of armor. With a deafening crash, it collapsed, the noise echoing down the halls.
There was no time to stay quiet now. The four of them ran.
They dashed through corridors, up and down staircases, taking sharp turns in hopes of losing Filch.
Eventually, they skidded to a stop, panting and leaning against a wall.
Ron looked around, confused. "Where are we?"
Ryan glanced at the surroundings and let out a sigh. Of all places, they had ended up near the forbidden corridor on the fourth floor—the one where Daisy, the three-headed dog, was kept.
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