This drabble concerns Simon the Prefect, who is often forgotten about. I view him as being 'neutral' and someone who likes to keep his head down, although he only becomes irate when he falters with his schoolwork, or when someone either disobeys the Headmaster's rules or disrespects the man himself. Takes place after the Great School Quiz.

A PREFECT'S REMORSE

'St Champions. What a fine school.'

Simon Neal gazed at the main building, tugging his coat closer to himself. The stars twinkled in the sky and Simon smiled slightly, awed enough to tear his gaze away from his school and onto the stars above. He had always been interested in astrology and had expressed this interest profusely in his first meeting with the Headmaster.

However, the man had not seemed keen on it, a grimace on his pale face as he had dismissed it, instead focussing on Simon's exceptional test scores. During the years that he had been a Prefect, Simon had not thought much about astrology, due to the Headmaster and therefore himself, thinking of it as a 'waste of time' but tonight, having been unknowingly brought out of a trance, astrology was the first topic on his mind.

Now as he partook in his star gazing, linking up names to the correct constellations, Simon felt a pang of remorse shoot through him. He lowered his head, frowning. Why did he feel so remorseful? Had he done something bad?

Tracing through his memories, Simon winced. The majority of the ones regarding school were fuzzy, but a few stood out all too clear. Simon's wince deepened as he remembered how CRUEL he had been, especially to the 'troublemakers', children that Simon was beginning to inspect were not 'troublemakers', after all.

He sidestepped into the shadows when the main doors to the school opened, six figures ambling out, chattering animatedly. Simon swallowed down the lump in his throat when he recognised the figures, the remorse intensifying.

All of the occasions that he remembered clearly involving him bullying either the group as an entirety or just one member, hit him full on, all at once.

He regretted mocking Lloyd's leadership skills, the way he could be overprotective and pushy to the point of being arrogant, even though it was all out of care for his friends.

Friends… Simon didn't have a lot of them, himself.

He regretted ridiculing Ian for having an interest in Drama and Acting, and for crushing his creative spirit. Chastising him for joking about and not being serious, when that was probably a way of coping with being an outcast.

Jokes…. Simon didn't tell a lot of them.

He regretted chiding Dinah about how her intelligence was the only reason the Headmaster was interested in her, insulting her dead parents and for the way she protected 'weaklings', such as Harvey Hunter.

Intelligence…. Simon used to doubt himself highly in this factor. In fact, he still did.

Speaking of so called 'weaklings', Simon regretted tormenting Harvey, about everything. Though Jeff was the main player when it came to bullying the youngest Hunter, he had also taken part, and he sincerely wished that he had stopped Jeff's treatment of Harvey before it got out of hand, which it always did, resulting in Harvey crying.

Tears…. Simon wished that he could take back all of the tears that Harvey had shed and make them his own.

He regretted sniping at Ingrid for apparently talking 'too much', and for mocking her sense of justice, her boldness and her relationship with Harvey. He should have allowed Ingrid to have her own say and to let her opinion be heard.

Love…. Simon had never experienced such a thing.

And he regretted teasing Mandy over her motherly nature and for being so 'nice' about everything. Her soothing nature, her upbeat attitude. He had mocked her endlessly, stalking her as much as he could as ordered by the Headmaster, griping her over her protectiveness of Hunter and Smith. And even hating himself for falling for her.

Mother…. Simon scolded himself for not paying enough attention to his own.

All of this tumbled about in the Prefect's mind as he watched SPLAT halt by the bushes. He decided with a determination, usually only reserved for schoolwork or his Prefect duties, that he would make it up to them. Simon did not know how exactly, but he would do it in the best way possible.

As Simon headed for the school gates, hands shoved into his coat pockets, the determination reared again, this time in terms of an objective.

Retrieving Mandy's phone number.