Chapter 62: Harry and the Prefects

The night before the first day of Harry's fifth year was one of the most peaceful he had ever spent. He didn't need to worry about whether the Dursleys would take him to King's Cross Station. He didn't need to wonder whether an infamous escaped prisoner was really going to try to kill him at school. He didn't need to try to guess at Sirius' reasons for not officially asserting legal guardianship. He wasn't distracted by thoughts of whether his classmates would be whispering about him behind his back. He didn't even need to speculate as to who the next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would be.

His biggest concern, which did not arise until Sirius had Apparated him to Platform 9 3/4, was where he would sit on the train. He had always enjoyed riding the Hogwarts Express because it meant that he was beside Ron and Hermione, whether he was reuniting with them after an endless summer or making plans with them before they separated. Harry didn't hate summer anymore, not now that summer meant Sirius, but he still loved walking into Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione at his side above all else.

That couldn't happen this year, he realized with a sinking sensation. He heard Hermione's voice, not calling his name excitedly, but telling Ron that they would be riding in the prefects' compartment, getting their instructions from the Head Boy and Girl.

The days when Ron had made fun of Percy for bragging about the prefects' compartment seemed very long ago.

"All right?" asked Sirius. Sirius, too, looked worried. Harry remembered what Remus had told him (hadn't needed to tell him): that Sirius hated it when Harry returned to school.

"Do I really need to take the train?" asked Harry, suddenly wanting to delay saying goodbye a little longer. "I could walk from Hogsmeade."

"Not carrying your trunk and your owl, you can't," said Sirius.

"Harry!" called a voice, but it wasn't Hermione or Ron or any of the Weasleys. It was Ernie MacMillan, who held out his hand for Harry to shake as he detached himself from a cluster of Hufflepuffs. Ernie's chest was puffed out to show off his prefect's badge. There were prefects everywhere. Harry knew that there were only eight prefects in his year— one boy and one girl from each House— but suddenly it seemed as if he was the only fifth-year in all of Hogwarts who had not been made a prefect. He knew now why Lupin had offered more than once to discuss Dumbledore's decision not to make Harry a prefect. Lupin had known it would be like this.

"I haven't seen you since your party in July," said Ernie.

Harry thought it was a strange thing to say. He knew that he hadn't seen Ernie since his birthday party. He'd been there. "Yeah," said Harry stupidly. "Thanks for coming."

"You were really there, Ernie?" blurted out a girl Harry was fairly certain was called Megan Jones.

"Yes," said Ernie importantly. "I've never been to another party that was anything like it."

"Did you really turn an unplottable ballroom into a magical beach?" asked Hannah Abbot. She, too, was wearing a prefect's badge. It took Harry a minute to realize that she was asking him and not Ernie.

"Yeah, my godfather hired someone to do it. He thought that would be safer than an actual beach."

"It sounds amazing," she said enviously. She looked as if she might have said more, but Ernie took her by the arm to direct her toward the prefects' compartment.

"Come on," said Ernie. "We have to get our instructions from Cedric. It's especially important that the prefects from the Head Boy's own House get there early."

Harry tried not to roll his eyes. "Say hello to Cedric for me," he told them, and they said that they would.

He looked over his shoulder, suddenly afraid that Sirius had left without saying goodbye. But Sirius had only stepped backward into the shadows near the far wall. Even though Sirius' face was half-hidden in darkness, Harry could tell that he looked very pleased with himself.

"Why are you so happy?" Harry asked. He sounded rather rude to his own ears, but he knew Sirius wouldn't mind.

Sirius' smile became even more self-satisfied, which Harry wouldn't have thought possible. "It's been a month, but everyone's still talking about your party. That means I did it right."

"That wasn't everyone. That was just Ernie…"

"And a whole pack of girls, some of them very pretty, and at least one of them angling for an invitation to your next party."

"I'm not having another party," said Harry. He had enjoyed his party very much, but he had viewed it as a once in a lifetime experience, like releasing a boa constrictor at the zoo or knocking out a mountain troll in a girls' toilet.

"If you don't want to," said Sirius easily.

The train whistle blew, short and sharp and warning.

"You'd better find a compartment," said Sirius, hugging Harry awkwardly. "Check in with your mirror tonight."

"I will." The thought of the mirror made him feel better. It wasn't really goodbye, and Sirius would be at Hogwarts for the next full moon in two weeks. He grabbed his trunk; when he'd nearly reached the train, Ron and Hermione burst out of the prefects' compartment to greet him.

"Hi, Harry, we're glad you're here," said Hermione breathlessly. "We were afraid Sirius would make you late."

"I don't know who 'we' is," said Ron under his breath. Harry sniggered.

"We have to get back to the—"

"The prefects' compartment, I know," said Harry as lightly as he could. "Ron, help me with my trunk, first, will you? Part of your prefectly duty. Hermione will save you a seat."

Hermione, glowing, bounced back into the prefects' compartment.

"I'm not enjoying this," said Ron defensively as he helped Harry heft his trunk onto the train. "I'm not Percy."

"No one said you were Percy."

"No one except Fred and George ten times a minute every day since they saw the badge."

"Oh." Harry knew that that was probably true.

Harry made his way down the corridor, peering through the glass-paneled doors into the compartments. The compartments all looked full, and Harry was surprised when Cho Chang opened her compartment's door. "Do you need a place?" she asked. "We can make room." Her group of laughing sixth-year friends, of whom Harry knew only Marietta Edgecomb by name, nodded in agreement.

"Cho was just telling us about your birthday party," said Marietta.

"Yeah, it was great that Cho could come," said Harry awkwardly. "Sorry I need to talk to—"

The train gave a lurch and Harry rushed hastily down the corridor, glad that the train's squealing wheels hid the fact that he needed to talk to absolutely no one and he hadn't even been able to think of the name of a person he might want to talk to.

Harry passed by a few more carriages before a mixed group of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws in his year invited him to join them. It would have been more fun than sitting with Cho and her friends, but the compartment was inarguably full—Seamus and Dean and Lavender and Parvati and four Ravenclaws had all squeezed in together. Lavender and Parvati were sharing a seat and looking very giggly. "We can make room. Don't worry," said Lavender, and Harry remembered how strange (but not awful) it had been when she'd kissed him at his party.

"No you can't," he said with a laugh that he hoped sounded more natural than his refusal to sit with Cho. "Anyway, I have to talk to Angelina about Quidditch."

At least he'd learned to think up a better lie.

But he wouldn't have wanted to sit with Angelina and Alicia and Fred and George and Lee even if they'd invited him.

He wanted to sit with Ron and Hermione, and that would never happen again. They would ride in the prefects' compartment every time they boarded the Hogwarts Express from now until they finished school.

"Wait," said Seamus, catching the compartment door before it slid shut. "You're not a prefect?"

"No," said Harry, trying to squash the part of himself that was meanly glad that some of his classmates had assumed that he, not Ron, would be the Gryffindor prefect. "I cause too much trouble."

The others laughed appreciatively. "Padma's a prefect for Ravenclaw," said Parvati. She said it lightly, as if casually passing on information, but it struck Harry that if it was odd for him to watch his two best friends accept an honor that would never be bestowed upon him, it was even odder for Parvati to be distinguished from her identical twin sister in yet another way.

"Who's the Ravenclaw boy?" he asked.

"Anthony Goldstein," said one of the other Ravenclaws. Harry didn't know for certain which of the Ravenclaw boys was which, so he nodded as if Anthony Goldstein's name meant something to him and then waved goodbye to the group, telling them he would see them at the feast.

He continued his way down the corridor as the train picked up speed. He felt as alone as he had felt on his very first ride on the Hogwarts Express— until Ron had sat beside him.

In the very last carriage, Harry found Neville, Ginny, and a girl he didn't know. Neville and Ginny both called their greetings; the girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist-length, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. She gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of butterbeer caps, or that she was reading a magazine upside down.

"Okay if I join you?" he asked.

He knew that Ginny and Neville didn't mind; they'd both looked pleased to see him. He didn't know what to make of the blonde girl. "You're Harry Potter," she said.

"I know I am," said Harry. Neville chuckled.

"This is Luna Lovegood," said Ginny to Harry. "Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw."

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," said Luna in a singsong voice.

The train lurched around a sharp turn and Harry decided that it was for the best to take his seat and let Ginny update him on how the twins had snuck into Ron's bedroom while he slept and magically stuck a pair of horn-rimmed glasses like the ones Percy wore onto Ron's face.

"…Of course, it took Dad about two seconds to unstick them, but I've never seen Ron turn that shade of purple before," Ginny concluded as the door to their compartment slid open.

Harry turned, expecting to see the food trolley and reaching for his money pouch to buy pumpkin pasties and chocolate frogs for everyone in the compartment. Instead, though, he saw two of Ginny's roommates. Christianne Steele he knew; he spent a rather miserable night with her at the Yule Ball. He thought that the other girl's name might be Heather Hadley, and that was confirmed when Neville greeted them by name.

Christianne and Heather sat down without invitation in the two vacant seats Harry had hoped would be filled by Ron and Hermione once they'd received their instructions from Cedric.

"Those seats are saved," said Ginny, and Harry thought that he could have kissed her.

"We won't stay long," said Heather.

"We just wanted to know if it was true about Harry's birthday party," said Christianne.

"If what was true about it?" asked Harry.

"If there was really a magical beach in an unplottable house in London."

"Oh," said Harry. "Yes." He wished that all of the rumors people had spread about him over the years had been as accurate as that one.

"Do you want to come back to our compartment and tell us all about it?" asked Heather. "Romilda's mum sent along these really excellent chocolates, and Quincy has a bit of fire whiskey."

"Er, thanks, but I need to catch up with my friends," said Harry.

Christianne and Heather stood in unison. "If you change your mind, we're right in the middle on this side of the train," said Christianne.

The door shut behind them.

"They're trying to get you to invite them to your next party," said the girl called Luna. "They think that someone who throws a party like that shouldn't be sitting with us."

"Ginny and Neville were both at the party," said Harry, even as he realized that Luna was probably right. "And if I'd known you, I would have invited you, too."

Luna favored him with a scathing look. He didn't know Luna, but he knew the expression. She didn't believe him and imagined that he was teasing her. He didn't precisely want to announce that he'd been the one in the odd clothes who didn't get invited to parties five years before, but he did want to tell her that he had faith in Ginny and Neville's choice in friends.

Ginny explained for him. "He's not taking the mickey, Luna. He doesn't choose his friends the way you'd think he does."

Before Harry got a chance to ask how Ginny or Luna would have thought he chose his friends, the door slid open again.

This time, it was Angelina. "I heard you wanted to talk to me?" she said to Harry.

Harry had to think quickly, because he couldn't very well tell Angelina that he'd lied about wanting to talk to her to get out of sitting with people he didn't know when all he really wanted was for Ron and Hermione to get out of the prefects' compartment and just be his friends again. "I only wanted to check in about Quidditch," he said. "We have to have tryouts right away, don't we? To replace Wood?"

Angelina brightened. "I'm glad you're taking this seriously," she said. "Some of the others think they can slack off now that Wood isn't here. I wish we hadn't missed a whole year."

"Me too," said Harry fervently.

"Everyone's going to be out of practice," Angelina fretted.

Harry looked past Angelina at Ginny, who had a look of intense longing on her face. He knew how much she wanted to play, and he knew that she was no Keeper— she was a Chaser if he'd ever seen one. "Maybe we should hold tryouts for all the positions," he said to Angelina. "I know Alicia was a reserve for a year, but ever since I've been here we've never had anyone to practice against. It might help if some of us really are out of practice, and it will definitely help next year when you and Alicia and the twins have graduated."

Angelina smiled slyly. "You just don't want me to leave the team a mess when you take over as captain next year."

Harry hadn't thought of being named captain, and he determined that he'd better not think of it even now that Angelina had mentioned it. Dumbledore might decide that it was for the best that Harry not be Quidditch captain, either. "I don't want you to leave the team a mess because I want Gryffindor to win this year and next year," he told Angelina.

"That," she said, "is the right answer. And you're right about trying out reserves. We need someone else who's capable of playing Seeker in case you're in the hospital wing during an important match."

"I won't be in the hospital wing during any important matches," said Harry, even though he had definitely ended up in the hospital wing during important matches before.

"Good," said Angelina. "If you have any other bright ideas, we're up near the front."

As Angelina left, Ron and Hermione finally— finally— arrived. They were full of news about the other new prefects. Harry was unsurprised, but still displeased, to learn that Draco Malfoy was one of the Slytherin prefects.

"We're supposed to patrol the corridors every so often," said Ron. "We can give out punishments if people are misbehaving. I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something…"

"You're not supposed to abuse your position, Ron!" said Hermione sharply.

"Yeah, right, because Malfoy won't abuse it at all," said Ron sarcastically.

"So you're going to descend to his level?"

"No, I'm just going to make sure I get his mates before he gets mine."

"For heaven's sake, Ron—"

"I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing," said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle's low grunt and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair. "I…. must… not… look… like… a… baboon's… backside…"

Everyone laughed, and no one laughed harder than Luna. Ron looked pleased.

"Anyway," Ron said to Harry, "Malfoy has it out for you."

"I've known that for the last four years," said Harry. The food trolley arrived at last, and Harry ordered enough for everyone, waving off their offers to pay.

"I know, but he's worse than ever because he's got the badge, and he's angry about your birthday party."

"Don't tell me Malfoy wanted to be invited!" said Harry, accidentally letting a chocolate frog card tumble to the floor in surprise. He could understand, sort of, the things that Ginny's roommates and the Hufflepuff girls had said, but Draco Malfoy hated him and always had.

"No, but Cedric mentioned it to Hermione and me— he was just welcoming us as new prefects and that's the only time he'd ever talked to us before— and Malfoy— I wish you could have seen it. Said it was his family's ancestral home."

"Technically, that's true," said Harry. "He's Sirius' first cousin once removed. Wish Sirius would remove him four or five more times but that's not how it works."

The others laughed at that, too.

"Pansy Parkinson said it was pathetic that everyone was talking about your party," added Hermione. "And Cedric, just as polite as you like, told her that that isn't how prefects conduct themselves."

"And that made Malfoy even angrier," said Ron. "He doesn't like that you're in with the Head Boy. He's going to use the prefect thing against you every chance he gets."

Harry wasn't surprised, and he didn't want to talk any longer about prefects. He picked up his fallen chocolate frog card. "Anyone need Paracelsus?"

They piled into the horseless carriages that would take them from Hogsmeade to the castle. Ron and Hermione were supposed to supervise this, and so Harry shared a carriage with Luna, Ginny, and Neville.

He craned his neck to see if he could catch sight of Sirius' cottage and he wondered if Sirius felt alone in a crowd tonight, too. He hoped that Sirius had at least gone to the Three Broomsticks rather than brooding in the little house.

Hermione and Ron rejoined Harry as they filed into the Great Hall. As always, the castle was beautifully lit with candles. As distant as he felt from his two best friends (Ron was admiring his prefect's badge in every reflective surface they passed), and as much as he worried about Sirius, Harry couldn't help but feel as if he had come home from a long journey.

The hotel in Florida had been fun, but it hadn't been home. The cottage in Hogsmeade was the realization of a dream, but it wasn't home. Privet Drive most certainly wasn't home.

Hogwarts was home.

And when Ron and Hermione seated themselves on either side of Harry, he was doubly home.

He looked up at the staff table. Lupin caught his eye and waved; Harry and the others waved back.

Further along the staff table was a short, squat woman. She had short, curly, mouse-brown hair in which she had placed a horrible pink Alice band that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes. Her face was pallid and toadlike with a pair of prominent, pouchy eyes.

"That must be that Umbridge woman," Harry said.

"Who?" said Hermione.

"She's going to evaluate the school and the professors this year. Lupin warned me about her."

"Why would he need to warn you?"

"Because she's horrible."

"She looks horrible," Ron agreed.

Meanwhile, Hagrid appeared behind the staff table and worked his way to his usual seat at the very end. He, too, caught Harry's eye and gave him a wave. Hagrid's arrival meant that the first years had successfully crossed the lake. A fleeting part of Harry longed for his own trip across the lake with Ron and Hermione. Then, there had been no controversy over prefect appointments and no fear that Voldemort would return. (And no Sirius… he ached with the thought of what it would have been like to have had a home and a family before Hogwarts…)

The doors from the entrance hall opened and a line of scared-looking first years entered, led by Professor McGonagall, who carried the Sorting Hat.

The Sorting Hat sang its song, which sounded much like the other songs Harry had heard it sing. Slytherins were cunning and resourceful; Ravenclaws were wise and clever; Gryffindors were brave and gallant; Hufflepuffs were kind and loyal.

After the long line of first years had been Sorted, Professor Dumbledore gave the usual speech about staying out of the Forbidden Forest (Harry almost laughed), upcoming Quidditch tryouts (Angelina glanced meaningfully at Harry), and looking to the Head Boy and Girl for leadership (Harry cheered loudly for Cedric). Last of all, Dumbledore introduced Undersecretary Umbridge. She cleared her throat and stood as if to speak, but too quickly Dumbledore shouted "tuck in!" and the tables filled with food. Suddenly ravenous, Harry grabbed for everything he could reach.

When the feast had been eaten, Ron and Hermione had to guide the first years to the common room and Harry was left alone again. Well, not truly alone; he fell into step with Seamus, Dean, and Neville as they made their way to their dormitory. Seamus told a lively story, no less interesting for probably being a gross exaggeration, involving his cousin's best friend who had lured him up to her old treehouse and then had to remove her robes because they'd gotten wet…

The four of them sprawled across their beds, not ready to go to sleep but too pleasantly full from the feast to want to move. Eventually Seamus unlatched his trunk and slyly removed what looked like a boomerang.

Neville sat straight up and sucked in his breath. Harry and Dean glanced at each other; neither one knew exactly why a boomerang warranted much of a reaction.

"Is that an ever-bashing boomerang?" asked Neville keenly.

"It is," said Seamus proudly. "My dad's a Muggle, so he didn't know it was against the rules when I bought it along with my books."

Harry remembered, now, that ever-bashing boomerangs were on the seemingly endless list of banned items that Flich posted around the castle.

"Shall we let it loose and see what happens?" asked Seamus.

The others agreed that that was a wonderful idea.

Seamus tapped the boomerang with his wand and it took off flying wildly about the room. Unlike a regular boomerang, it did not return to Seamus. Instead, it slammed into the wall, and then a bedpost, before changing direction and taking aim at Harry. Harry had to jump quickly to get out of the way while the others laughed uproariously.

After ten minutes, Harry reflected that it was best that none of them had yet unpacked their trunks, because the boomerang was determined to hit everything in sight. Their laughter and swears grew louder with every swoop of the boomerang. They were all breathless and sweating from avoiding the boomerang when the door opened to admit Ron.

Harry didn't know why he froze at the sight of Ron. He supposed that perhaps he would have frozen if anyone had opened the door. They were, after all, breaking school rules and having a fine time doing it.

The other three froze as well, and Seamus raised his wand to stop the boomerang before it took aim at Ron. "Finite Incantantem," he said quickly.

The boomerang fell to the floor.

Seamus stood in the middle of the room, his wand at his side. Neville was crouched on the floor beside his bed; Dean was standing on top of Seamus' bed; and Harry had backed himself into into one of the alcoves in which the windows were set. They were all silent until Harry jumped off of the window sill, and quickly wished he hadn't; his feet echoed too loudly off of the stone floor.

Ron stood in the doorway and stared at them all with a strange look on his face. "What are you doing?" he asked, and his voice was strange, too.

"Nothing," said Dean quickly, and it was a stupid answer. But then, the question was stupid too; it was obvious what they had been doing.

"It was just a bit of a laugh," said Neville. "We've stopped, now."

Ron turned around and stomped out of the room. Harry knew that he had to follow Ron even if he had no idea what to say.

"You lot put that away and get ready for curfew," he suggested to the others as he removed the Marauder's Map, his invisibility cloak, and Sirius' mirror from his trunk as surreptitiously as possible. The others were all too busy staring at the ground to notice exactly what Harry shoved into his bag.

He did not, as it happened, need the map to find Ron, because Ron hadn't gotten past the common room.

Fred's voice drifted up to Harry as he ran down the last flight of stairs. "Your roommates kick you out because you've decided to be a prig like Percy? Can't blame them, really."

"Nobody kicked anybody out," said Harry loudly. "Come on, Ron, we've got to meet Lupin. His note said right away."

Of course, Lupin hadn't sent any note of the kind, but it was believable enough to the twins. Harry and Ron passed through the Fat Lady's portrait and headed for Lupin's office.

"What happened?" Harry asked Ron when they'd reached an empty corridor.

"You tell me what happened," said Ron angrily. "You were all having a laugh, and as soon as I came in you stopped because I'm a prefect and you think I'm no fun anymore."

"We don't think that," said Harry, even though he was reasonably sure that Seamus would have hesitated to pull out the ever-bashing boomerang if Ron had come up to the room with the rest of them.

"I didn't ask for this. I didn't want it!"

Harry knew that Ron was lying. Ron had admired his badge in the reflection cast by a spoon during dessert, and that had put Harry in mind of another mirror… a mirror he'd seen back in his first year… a mirror that showed not a reflection but a heart's desire.

Harry had looked into the mirror and seen his parents.

Ron had looked into the mirror and seen himself as Head Boy. Ron had seen himself as Quidditch captain, too, but he had never done anything but cheer for Harry when Harry had played even though there was no opportunity for Ron to make the team.

"It would be all right if you did want it," said Harry quietly. "We both know Hermione wanted it, and we still like her."

"Well, that's Hermione, isn't it," said Ron. "She doesn't care if Lavender and Parvati think she isn't any fun."

"Cedric is fun, and he's Head Boy," said Harry. "Not all prefects are like Percy. I haven't spent that much time with Bill, but he doesn't seem like Percy even though they're brothers."

"That's true," said Ron, a bit more cheerfully.

They had reached Lupin's door by now. Harry knocked. He wasn't sure of the current password, but he doubted that Lupin had gone to bed yet. The teachers had to sort out any number of things on the last day before classes began (at least, the good ones did).

"He didn't really send a note asking us to come, did he?" asked Ron.

"No, he did not," answered Lupin as the door slid open. "But as you're here, you may as well come in."

Ron and Harry obeyed, casting a wary glance at the rattling case in the corner of the room. "Boggart for the third years tomorrow," Lupin said mildly.

Harry and Ron grinned at the memory of their own boggart class. "What will we be doing?" Harry asked.

"Blocking hexes," said Lupin. "The upper years will be doing more dueling this year. Is it all right with you if I bring Sirius in to demonstrate, Harry?"

"Fine with me," said Harry, who thought it sounded brilliant. Sirius' mirror was heavy in his bag. He had to remember to say goodnight to Sirius before they left Lupin's office. He hoped, again, that Sirius wasn't too lonely.

"But I imagine that that is not why the two of you came to see me?" asked Lupin, glancing back and forth between Harry and Ron.

"I don't know why we're here, either," said Ron.

"We're here because Ron wants to know what he should do, as a prefect, if hypothetically he came into his dormitory and found his roommates doing something against the rules. And he knows he's a prefect so he's supposed to tell them to stop, but he also doesn't want his roommates to think he's no fun."

"It's not that!" said Ron. "I was never going to tell you to stop. I mean, I never would have, hypothetically, if you'd been doing something. But if you all shut up and stop laughing every time I come into a room, I don't want to be a prefect. It's not worth it."

Lupin's smile was sad. "Tell me more about this hypothetical situation, Ron. Was what you saw your roommates doing dangerous?"

Ron shrugged. "I mean, Mum wouldn't let us do it in the Burrow but it's not any more dangerous than Quidditch."

"Was everyone involved a willing participant?"

"Definitely."

"Was it against school rules?"

"Yes."

"You need to be more careful of school rules this year than you were in the past, Ron. I said this to Harry the other day, and now I'm saying it to you. Dolores Umbridge has more power than you think and she will abuse it. She will take away anything that gives you happiness, whether that is your prefect's badge or your new broom. If you run afoul of her, she will isolate you and prey on your worst impulses."

"You're talking about her like she's a dementor," said Ron,

"They do have things in common," said Remus darkly. "Now, as a professor, I cannot tell you to let rule breaking slide, especially when someone is being victimized. As a former prefect whose friends were terrible rule breakers, I can admit that sometimes picking your battles is the only reasonable option. It sounds as if you had no intention of stopping your roommates from hypothetically…"

"Playing with an ever-bashing boomerang," Harry supplied. "Hypothetically playing with an ever-bashing boomerang in our dormitory."

This time Lupin's smile was more relaxed and amused. "Right. But they saw you and they stopped because they didn't know whether you were going to punish them. Perhaps they even told you how little fun you are?"

"They didn't say anything," admitted Ron. "But it's all my brothers ever say."

"You cannot go through your life worrying about what your brothers say. You need to decide what you believe is right and honor your own belief. Do you believe it's right to betray the faith the Headmaster has placed in you by giving you that badge by using your position for your own gain and ignoring your responsibilities when it's convenient?"

"No," said Ron.

"Do you believe that there is ever a time when someone in authority should look the other way because a rule is a bad rule, or because the letter of the rule is being violated but the spirit of the rule is not?"

"Yes," said Ron.

"I cannot tell you how to balance those two impulses, not least because I was terrible at it when I was your age. But I can assure you that friends who would hold your position against you— truly, not just a bit of teasing— were never your friends to begin with."

"No one was holding anything against you tonight. Hypothetically," said Harry.

"I get that," said Ron.

"Well," said Lupin cheerfully. "That's settled. I will write you a note giving you permission to be out of bed at this hour, but I shall not make a habit of doing so."

"Thank you," said Harry and Ron in unison.

Harry gathered up his bag, pulling out Sirius' mirror as he did. "Sirius?" he asked.

Sirius appeared immediately. Harry's heart sank; Sirius' eyes looked shadowed and his smile looked rather forced. "Hello, Harry. Made it back to the castle all right?"

Harry suddenly wished that they could be alone so he could tell Sirius how difficult it was to watch Ron and Hermione move on without him and how worried he was that Sirius felt abandoned now that the Hogwarts term had begun again. But they weren't alone. "Yeah, we made it back. Dumbledore started the feast before Umbridge could say anything."

Sirius chuckled. "Good."

"And since I'm in Professor Lupin's office, I can't tell you that Seamus has an ever-bashing boomerang."

This time Sirius laughed outright, and Harry thought it would be worth a detention to drive the awful shadowed look out of Sirius' eyes, even just for a moment. "I'll get you one if you'd like. Or perhaps you'd prefer a fanged frisbee?"

"What are you doing tonight, Sirius?" Harry asked.

Sirius' face hardened and his eyes shuttered. "Celebrating that I'm rid of you for the rest of the term, of course," he said, but the joke fell flat. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Sirius," said Harry, but Sirius was already gone.

"I'll owl him," said Lupin quietly as he pressed a square of parchment into Harry's hand. "Straight back to your dormitory, now."

Harry and Ron went. "He really misses you, doesn't he?" said Ron as they approached Gryffindor Tower.

Harry didn't say anything. He couldn't find the words. It seemed as if a very long time had passed since Sirius had brought him to the Hogwarts Express that morning, and he knew that an even longer time had passed for Sirius.

To be continued.

Auxiliary Disclaimer: There are a number of quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix in this chapter, most notably Harry's first impression of Luna; Ron's view of being a prefect; and Harry's description of Umbridge.

Recommendation:

Since I took poor Percy's name in vain a few times in this chapter:

Catharsis by A'jes' Blue. It is story ID number 219124 on this site.

Summary: This is a Percy Weasley angst-ridden story... Born from the idea that Ron is a seventh son and Percy lost his best friend very, very early.

A little fandom history recap: Approximately a zillion years ago, fans looked at the statement in the first book that Gryffindor hadn't won in AGES, not since Charlie Weasley left school, and assumed that Charlie was a full seven years older than Percy (and Percy's classmate Oliver Wood). JKR later clarified that there's only a 3-year gap between Charlie and Percy… but that was after fans spent a few years theorizing about why Arthur/Molly would go 7 years between babies. This story, the first in a trilogy, goes with the idea that they didn't, but the family was struck by tragedy. My favorite part of the trilogy is actually the middle part, Fallout, in which Bill/Percy visit Charlie in Romania. Warning for slash in the third story.