"I feel bad for Hermione," Harry said to Ron on the Hogwarts Express. Hermione and Ginny were in the bathroom and the two boys were alone. "I know that's kind of obvious, but I didn't see this one 'til it hit us in the face."

          "Tell me about it," Ron agreed. "Least she knows we think she should be one."

          "Makes you wonder…"

          "About Quidditch captain?"

          "Yeah. I haven't heard anything about it." They had both agreed Harry would be the obvious pick for captain, since he had five years on the team already and no one else had been on it for any significant length of time. What neither of them knew was how one got notified, and uncertainty had gnawed at them all summer. Ron knew he wouldn't be the captain, not with Harry around, but he wanted it badly for his friend.

          "Well, we'll haveta find out soon."

          "Guess so," Harry said, mildly dejected. He had a sinking feeling about it, somewhere deep in his stomach. That same feeling seemed to pervade everything he thought about for the coming year; it was starting to make him antsy. "Hey, did you see the Daily Prophet yesterday?"

          "'Mione had it, but I didn't read it. Why?"

          "It said that Grey isn't Gryffindor's Deputy Head anymore."

          "What? Who is?"

          "Jess O'Brien."

          "The psycho sorceress?" Harry nodded. "Cor. That's…" Ron paused and narrowed his eyes. "D'you have the feelin' this year might be a bit different? An' not in a good way?"

          "You read my mind, Ron. You read my mind."

          The year started off the same, however. The Hogwarts Express pulled into the station accompanied by loud cheers from the student body. Hagrid was waiting to meet the incoming students, an enormous lantern in his hand as he towered above the crowd. Hogwarts loomed in the background, its lights overwhelmingly bright in the clear night.

          Harry's stomach uncoiled for the first time since June.

          "Welcome home," he said to no one in particular as he stepped off the train. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione followed, all looking equally pleased.

          "Harry! 'Ey Harry!" Hagrid's voice boomed over the crowd. The lantern swayed perilously back and forth, flames nearly nipping Hagrid's enormous beard.

          "Hagrid!" Harry called, raising a hand in greeting.

          "Come down ter my hut, when yeh get a chance!"

          Harry nodded, and Hagrid smiled before going back to the task of gathering the First Years.

          "They look so small," Ginny said, watching the younger kids.

          "You aren't much bigger," Ron teased. She rewarded him with a scowl.

          "We were really that size," Harry said in amazement. "Scary."

          "And," Hermione added, "we were dumb enough to take on You Know Who and a Professor."

          "Not to mention a troll," Ron chimed in.

          "Yeah," Harry said with mock gravity, looking at his two friends. "We weren't too bright, were we?"

          They all laughed.

          They took a carriage up to the Hogwarts gates, and then slipped into the line to enter the dining hall with the rest of the returning students. Waves and shouts to old friends came and went, dying down as the group got closer to the entrance. Hermione saw two other prefect badges, one on Parvati Patil and the other on Colin Creevey. She wondered who had received the last badge, and resolved herself to find out as soon as possible.

          So far the competition left her underwhelmed.

          On her right, Harry and Ron made their own discovery, as Ron accidentally stepped on someone's foot and received a nasty elbow to the stomach.

          "Hey! That was an accident! Who d'you think … oh. You."

          "Yes, me, Weasley," Malfoy snarled. "Watch where you put those boots, will you? I'd hate for the leather on mine to get scuffed." Several Slytherin sixth-years watched and snickered; Malfoy eyed the boots with distaste. "I didn't like 'em any better when your brothers were wearing 'em."

          Ron's face turned bright red. It didn't help that Malfoy had a prefect badge proudly affixed to his robe either.

          "Now, now, Weasel," Malfoy continued, smirking haughtily, "no need to get all upset." Malfoy put his right hand on Ron's chest, and Ron felt him slip something into one of the pockets of his robe with his left. "Take a look."

          Malfoy's left hand came up quickly and pointed to McGonagall, who was bearing down on them.

          "Cease this idiocy right now," McGonagall said. "Draco Malfoy, if you can't be civilized in any way, I suggest you simply leave."

          "Well, Professor, I …"

          "Let me rephrase. Go. To. The. Dining. Hall. Now."

          "Yes, Professor," Malfoy said, stunned at her tone. They hadn't even really been going after one another yet. Confused, he drifted off deeper into the crowd.

          McGonagall watched him go, then turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

          "You three come with me. Professor Dumbledore would like to see you before the meal."

Dumbledore was waiting for them behind his desk. Three chairs had been arranged in front of it; they were obviously expected. McGonagall pointed to the seats, then shut the door behind her as she left. Ron was surprised to see Hermione glaring at her less than subtly. Dumbledore picked up on it as well.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione turned back, thoroughly embarrassed but also determined not to let it show. "Yes, Professor?"

"Whoa," Harry said under his breath. Hermione was looking no less angrily at Dumbledore than she had at McGonagall. He saw Ron's raised eyebrow. This was a side of Hermione they had rarely seen.

          "I understand that you're more than a bit upset and confused about our selection of prefects," Dumbledore said, not bothering with any pretense. He wore his favorite blue robe and matching wizard's cap; with his hands folded atop his long white beard, he looked extremely serene, and far healthier than he had in the spring.

          "That's for sure," Ron muttered. Hermione quieted him with a tap of her hand.

          "Perhaps I might be allowed to explain before we march straight for the dueling?" His eyes twinkled with mirth.

          "Of course, Professor," she answered, suddenly abashed at the collapse of her decorum. She blushed as she hurriedly added, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so rude. I'm a bit flustered."

          "It's quite alright my dear. Quite alright. In your position, I would be rather rude as well. In fact, I would be rude in all three of your positions, at least when I was a bit younger."

          "All three?" Harry asked.

          "Indeed. All three. Allow me to explain." He reached beneath his desk and laid two glittering objects on the table. One was a prefect's badge, similar to the one Percy Weasley had worn. The other was a miniature snitch embossed with a G and resting on a woven chain of maroon and gold.

          Harry knew that it was the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain's symbol of office.

          "Harry, Hermione, these are yours if you want them. You may each take the appropriate one and depart, taking Mr. Weasley with you." He met each of their eyes in turn. "Or you may stay and hear why you have not already been given them."

"Can we take them if we stay?"

"Yes, Harry, you may. However, should you do so, and choose them anyway, I will be forced to remove this meeting from your memory. It might be rather awkward."

          "What about me?" Ron asked. He was thoroughly mystified. Harry and Hermione would have to choose whether to take the badges?

"Any decision that they make, you would have to agree to as well. You are here, Mr. Weasley, because I have something to offer the three of you." His eyes flicked to Hermione, and Ron thought a smile flickered behind the white beard.

"What happens to one of you affects all three, as we have learned so painfully over the years. Therefore, you must all be in agreement about your course of action. I originally intended to do this individually, but Professor McGonagall felt that you must decide together."

The three Gryffindors looked at one another for a half-second, then Harry and Hermione went back to longingly studying the badges on Dumbledore's desk.

          "Take 'em and let's go," Ron said, angered that he had no real reason for being here. There was no badge for him.

          Harry shook his head, watching the Headmaster. "It's important, isn't it?"

          "Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Very important."

          "I don't see what we lose by listening," Hermione chipped in.

          "I do," Ron said. Rational thought overwhelmed his temper, for once. "Whatever he's gonna tell us is something big, something I won't want to turn down. Because there's no badge for me."

          "So?" Harry asked.

"I can edit your memory, so to speak, Harry, but if there is some underlying resentment on Ron's part because of your choice, it won't go away. It will, in fact, get worse because he won't know why he feels that way. That's why this must be a unanimous decision. Should you listen and say no, it would … put a great strain on you all."

          "No," Ron said, the last sentence swiftly deciding him. "I'll leave. It's their decision, not mine. They have stuff at stake here, let them make it. I won't risk that."

          "I'm afraid not, Ron," Hermione said. "It's obviously too important to leave you out, and if we turn those badges down, for whatever it may be, we'll need you."

          "I agree. You now see the dilemma we faced in assigning these offices to the two of you without discussion," Dumbledore said.

          The three Gryffindors pondered their choice in silence. After several minutes, Harry took the lead.

          "I say we listen. All of us," Harry said, "and Ron decides. I know I won't; I don't have the right to, if he's the one who gets nothing."

          "Yes," Hermione agreed, "that's fair."

          Ron went a little pale. "I don't know…"

          "We trust you, Ron. We really do. You know what those offices mean to us."

          "Definitely." Hermione reached out and squeezed his hand.

Ron looked at Dumbledore, who mentally grinned like the Cheshire Cat while keeping his face still. He had expected no less. Their discussion only reaffirmed what he had explained to the staff two days earlier: these three would not abandon one another.

          "Let's hear it, then."

          "First of all," Dumbledore began, "let me say that you, Miss Granger, were certainly in line to be a prefect. There was in fact some discussion of amending the rules to allow you to be Head Girl a year early." He leaned down and peered at her over his glasses. "Professor Snape was most put out by that, as you can imagine."

          "I'll bet," Ron said. Dumbledore focused on him.

          "Your name was also put forward for a prefect's slot, Mr. Weasley. I will not lie to you, though: to be blunt, ultimately it was decided that your grades were not quite satisfactory, even if you personally would make an excellent prefect," Dumbledore said, a sympathetic look gracing his face. "You should not take it as a comment on your worth that you were not selected."

          "It's a fair cop," Ron admitted. He still felt hurt that he wasn't selected for anything special, but then, he had never expected consideration. A tinge of jealousy flashed through him, dying quickly before it could take root. At least now he knew that Dumbledore and McGonagall thought highly of him. That was something. "Thanks for bein' honest about it."

Dumbledore nodded. "And as for you, Harry, well, the Quidditch captaincy is almost yours by default, even if Minerva had not been convinced that you have the necessary leadership skills. It says a great deal about all of you that Professor McGonagall has so much respect for you. Ultimately, though, it was at my request that these offices," he pointed to the badges, "were withheld."

          "As you all are painfully aware, Lord Voldemort has been steadily increasing the pressure on the Ministry and those of us who oppose him."

          "I thought it was a quiet summer," Hermione said. She had read the Daily Prophet every day.

          "He did not grab any headlines, but that by no means suggests it was quiet. He is still at-large and active. He will almost certainly continue to threaten the three of you." Dumbledore focused his sharp gaze on them. "With Voldemort returned to power and gaining strength, it has become obvious that you are ill-equipped to face the dangers you so readily embrace. What I am saying, unfortunately, is that this has become as much your fight as it is mine. Each day that passes is a day where we miss the opportunity to train you for it."

          The three Gryffindors gaped.

          "Until now, you had too little knowledge for us to consider anything radically different. That is no longer the case. Also, as you know, we now have two aurors on staff, along with Professor Giles, whose career as a Watcher makes him well suited for this sort of thing. Unlike years past, we have the capability to train you in certain … extraordinary ways."

          He paused, once again inspecting each youthful face carefully with his intelligent blue eyes.

"So this is my offer to the three of you: if you are willing, the staff has agreed to instruct you in an additional course. Professor Rosenberg deemed it 'Aurors for Dummies,' which is a muggle reference that I admit I do not understand. In simple terms, it will be a supplemental course of advanced Dark Arts training. Before you answer," he said as Ron and Harry opened their mouths, "you must hear the caveats."

          "Your training will be extensive, difficult, and time-consuming. You cannot undertake such a course of study and accept these positions," he gestured to the badges, "because you will not have time to properly discharge your duties."

          "Would we have to quit the Quidditch team?" Harry asked.

          "No. It would raise great suspicion if you did, and this must be done in absolute secrecy. Should your parents or others learn of it, the Ministry would quickly be notified and the course shut down. Minister Fudge and his compatriots believe certain limits should be applied to our curriculum that do not include any of the things you may learn. The consequences would be grave for all of us. That is the first reason for secrecy."

          "The second reason is rather more simple. Should Voldemort himself learn of it, he may attempt to prevent it by striking at the three of you. You must remember, Harry, that his desire to kill you has not faded with the passage of time."

"That's for sure."

          "I fear, unfortunately, that denying you these offices will tip Voldemort to the fact that something is amiss. As long as he does not know what that something might be, we should be fine."

          "Would it just be us?" Hermione asked, after they spent several moments contemplating Dumbledore's statement.

          "No. There is one other candidate who will most likely be joining you."

          "Who…"

          "You will learn the candidate's identity at the proper time, Mr. Weasley, should you accept."

          "Okay, but why d'you have to wipe our memories if we say no?"

          "Because I will not jeopardize anyone else for whom we may do this in the future," Dumbledore answered.

          "Would it be dangerous?"

          "Yes, Miss Granger. Training of this type is always dangerous. We will try to minimize the danger, but removing it would render the training useless."

          That answer clearly left Hermione and Ron troubled. When no one spoke for several minutes, Harry made a suggestion.

          "Professor? Would it be alright if we stepped outside and discussed this privately?

          "By all means, Harry. By all means."

          In the hallway, three pairs of eyes skittered back and forth, touching each other only briefly before settling on random spots on the wall.

          "Well?" Harry began. "What d'you guys think?"

          "We could die," Hermione said. "I read about auror training once. A few decades back, they were still losing one in five trainees to 'accidents' during lessons." She made air-quote motions when she said accidents.

          Ron gulped, his eyes wide. "Like what kind of accidents?"

          "Eaten by dragons. Poisoned. Burned to death when spells went awry."

          "Cor, that sounds like fun. I wonder if they list that in the syllabus, so that we know it's comin'."

          "Ron," Harry scolded, "c'mon. This is serious." He looked at Hermione. "We could also die if Voldemort succeeds; I don't think we're increasin' our risk any. Do you?"

          "I don't want to die," Hermione agreed, "but that's a good point, too. While Professor Dumbledore was explaining his reasons I thought of something you said out at the train. That we fought Voldemort and a Professor when we first came here, and we were stupid."

          "I was joking," Harry replied.

          "But you were right. We were stupid. But how much smarter are we now?"

          "What d'you mean?"

          "What I mean, Ron, is how much better prepared are we now than we were then? We know more magic, but knowing the Hogwarts curriculum and a few extra spells is not the same as being trained in defending against the dark arts."

          Her large eyes settled on Harry as her voice turned solemn. His scar seemed to glow red in the dim hallway.

          "You're going to fight it out to the end with Voldemort, aren't you, Harry?"

          "I am," he admitted.

          She looked back at Ron. "Are you going to walk away from Harry while he's fighting Voldemort?"

          "Not a chance in hell."

          "I'm not, either," she told Harry. "Knowing that, I'd say it's time we began preparing the right way, don't you?"

          "I can't ask you guys to do this. Voldemort killed my parents. It's my fight, not yours," Harry responded weakly.

"You don't believe that, Harry, and neither do we," Hermione replied. "We've shared every fight, serious or not, since we beat that troll, and they haven't gotten easier. Dumbledore's right; this is our war. Not yours. Ours. We need to fight it as best we can."

          "But I know how bad you want to be a prefect," Harry said, groping for an excuse to let them off the hook.

          "That won't matter a bit if Voldemort kills me, Harry. Or Ron. Or you. I'm not going to stop fighting him just so I can wear a stupid badge and order people around. You know that."

          Tears gathered in Harry's eyes as he realized how far they were willing to go for him. He could see the same realization in the other two, as their eyes grew shiny in the torchlight.

          "You guys…"

          "Aw, Harry, don't say it. 'Mione'll just start cryin'," Ron said with a half-smile. A tear ran down his cheek, and the sight so overwhelmed Hermione that she didn't even rebuke him for his teasing. "Let's just go back in and tell him yes."