September 2017

Philip Hamilton was fairly sure he was not going to survive his seventh year at Hogwarts.

He told no one, of course. Not his circle of friends or siblings. It was merely a thought that followed him — almost as much as the whispers.

Merlin, the whispers. There were a number of early birds lingering around the Hogwarts Express by the time Philip stepped on to the train. He felt their eyes follow him all across King's Cross Station. There was a time where he might have reveled in such attention. Lately, it felt more like a cross to bear.

He had slipped away from his family early by reasoning that he was needed at Platform 9 ¾ before anyone else. None of his siblings were willing to wake up at the crack of dawn, which was all according to plan.

Philip knew quite certainly that the year ahead would be the death of him. He was not about to falter, though. Whether or not he cared to admit it, he was still his father's son.

All his thoughts quieted as he came to a stop in front of the Prefects Carriage. "I'll be damned," he mumbled, pulling open the doors to the railcar. "What are you doing here?"

Theodosia Burr looked up from her copy of The Wizarding World News and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Because I'm Head Girl."

Philip laughed, incredulous. "Oh, I know. Finding out was the highlight of my summer."

He wasn't all that sarcastic. Hogwarts' great gray owl delivered the news in early August. The Head Boy badge fell on to his palm as he read over Headmistress Minerva McGonagall's loopy handwriting.

On behalf of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, we would like to inform you that you have been selected to serve as Head Boy for the upcoming school year, McGonagall had written. Your selection was based on your exceptional academic record, active participation in extracurricular activities, and strong leadership qualities. The cherry on top was buried in the conclusion of the letter: I am also pleased to inform you that Theodosia Burr has been selected to serve as Head Girl. I am certain the two of you will make a great team.

It came as no surprise to Philip. Theo had more competence in her pinky than half the people he knew. But the two of them making a great team was a tall ask even for the Headmistress herself.

"Missed me over the break, Hamilton?" Theo jeered.

"I did. Dreamt of you every single night, actually."

"How flattering."

"On the contrary, they were all nightmares. Haunting images of the time you got Dragon Pox in our third year."

Theo waved her hand dismissively and went back to her newspaper. "Your comebacks are getting stale," she said coolly. "Do us both a favor and settle in. You're bringing in a draft by standing in the doorway."

He couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face. It was nice to find something familiar in the chaos that was his life. After hauling his luggage up to the overhead compartment, he settled into the seat across Theo. The two of them weren't strangers to the Prefects Carriage. They had both been appointed prefects of their respective Houses two years ago. Still, it was a different feeling to be in the car as the Head.

If it had been any other person with him, Philip might have gushed to them about how ecstatic he was over the appointment. He wasn't about to give Theo ammunition like that, though. He decided he would poke the bear a little more.

There was lots to point out; the pile of candy sitting in plastic bags by her side, her reading glasses that made her look a few years older. Philip settled on the fact that she was already donning her school robes, her newly-shone Head Girl badge pinned over her chest.

"A tad excited, aren't we?" he chirped.

Theo didn't even look up. "Says the one who's also three hours early."

"What can I say? I've always been punctual."

"Bollocks. You've never been on time in your life."

"My, Burr. Keeping tabs on me? I'm touched."

"You've disrupted one too many prefect meetings with your tardiness," She turned a page in her newspaper. Philip doubted she was actually reading at this point. "Be sure to fix that little habit of yours, because I'm never late."

"'Never late' and 'atrociously early' are two different things," he said. "But I'll take your word for it."

He leaned across the table in front of them and blindly snatched at Theo's mountain of candy. He ended up with a bag of mint humbugs. Theo shot Philip a deathly glare as he popped one of the sweets into his mouth.

"Don't you have anyone else to annoy?" she asked.

He tutted disapprovingly and took another humbug, mostly out of spite. "This is for your own good," He gestured at her stash. "You must be a dentist's nightmare."

"You're my nightmare." She grabbed her bag of candy back, looking so protective of her sweets that Philip couldn't help but laugh a bit.

"I won't do it again," he said, raising his hands defensively. "How you have any teeth at all will remain a mystery."

There was a lull in their row. Theo went back to her newspaper while Philip tried to distract himself by letting the mint melt in his mouth. She was right about Philip's perpetual lateness. It was new to him that he had time to kill.

He wished he'd brought a book to read. He could try to write, he thought. Either risked making him the butt of Theo's jokes.

He decided to openly stare at her instead. He had noticed some time around their fourth year that Theo was getting attractive, and passing time only further affirmed it. When she wasn't looking annoyed at him, he could see the striking beauty most of their peers talked about. Particularly the strong jawline and dark brown eyes.

It was an observation Philip would take to the grave.

Theo broke the silence eventually. "Take a picture. It'll last longer," She flipped a page again. This time, the force almost tore the paper from its staples. Philip smirked. Definitely not reading.

"I'll be sure to bring a camera next time." On average, Philip was already extroverted. Being nervous only seemed to amplify it. He paused, then thoughtlessly blurted out, "How was your summer?"

Theo laughed like she was taken aback. "Since when have we made small talk?"

"If we're going to work together for a whole year, I suppose we might as well start."

Theo heaved out a dramatic sigh. She folded her newspaper and set it aside, seeming genuinely annoyed to have been interrupted. After a moment, she answered, "I spent most of my summer in Albany. Crime has been a bit rampant in Chelmsford lately, so I took off to avoid it."

Her response gave Philip a couple of options for his next question, though each one seemed to hang in balance in the face of their precarious relationship. He typically didn't have to think so hard on how to hold a conversation. He could ask about how Albany was in August or comment on the petty crimes he'd read about in Chelmsford. Instead, he stupidly settled on, "You didn't go to the Quidditch World Cup final?"

It had been held in Scotland that year, making it the place to be for most Hogwarts students. Theo gave a rueful grin and shrugged. "Getting tickets was such a pain," she said. "How was it, then? I heard Portugal was quite the underdog."

Philip's whole family had gone. Alexander's Ministry connections secured them a private box that was eye-level with the goal posts. The Hamilton children thoroughly enjoyed the game, with the younger ones calling it the best day of their lives. Philip considered it one of the better nights of the break despite the suspicion that started to grow in him then.

He remembered catching glimpses of his father looking on edge. Despite asking a couple of times, Alexander just kept fibbing that it was work-related, then saying it was about their Portkey heading home. All inconsequential things. At the time, Philip had no idea what was wrong. In hindsight, it was likely because Alexander was anticipating something that was yet to come. The other shoe had not yet dropped.

Philip forced on a grin. "I lost a couple of galleons to Angie because I bet on Japan," he said. "Portugal's Keeper was far better than I gave him credit for."

"Angie's always been the smarter one, anyhow."

"I'll be sure to let her know."

A heartbeat passed. The two obviously had no idea how to talk to each other civilly. In the pregnant silence that lapsed, Philip could see Theo considering him carefully. It wasn't the same as the looks other people had been giving him, but it still unnerved him. Immediately, he felt his defenses coming up.

"I don't want your pity."

His words shocked both of them.

Theo looked confused, even. "What?"

Clearing his throat, Philip glanced out the window of their carriage and secretly wished he would disappear on the spot. He hadn't realized how high strung he was during their exchanges. In a way, he felt like he was waiting for her to pull the rug from underneath him. Each change of topic led closer to the possibility of her delivering a pièce de résistance that could positively ruin Philip.

As he racked his brain on what to say, Theo spoke again. "I don't pity you, Hamilton."

Dumbfounded, he looked back at her. The look on her face had turned into something unreadable, but she was right. She had no pity on her features. For once, there was no venom, either. Relief flooded Philip's system.

"Right," He scratched the back of his neck, feeling a bit ashamed. "Right. Well… thank you."

More students were starting to board the train. There was chatter in the hallway, sounds of activity on the platform outside. Philip could feel the dread building up again as he envisioned their expressions and imagined their whispers.

He looked towards Theo and some of the panic subsided. What an odd thing, to find comfort in one's enemy.

For her part, Theo started rearranging her things to prepare for the prefects' arrival. She packed away her candy and folded-up newspaper. Philip caught a glimpse of the moving picture on the front page. It was Aaron Burr, smiling amicably in front of what seemed to be a jail cell. Philip wanted to ask about the headline, deciding against it at the last minute. His luck with Theo was likely maxed out for the day.

"I suppose I'll put on my robes and badge as well," he said. "Can't have you looking more responsible than me."

Theo shook her head slightly. "That's already a given, robes or none."

As Philip was halfway out of their carriage, Theo called out to him.

"We're not friends," she warned. Her eyes were steely and her gaze was resolute. There was little room for doubt on her face.

Philip was surprised to be weirdly consoled by Theo's animosity. He was grateful that their rapport remained untouched by the issues hounding his family. He would never admit it to her, he thought.

Instead, he smirked. "Don't worry, Burr. I know."

Without another word, he slipped away and headed to the train toilets. After freshening up and making a couple of detours to some friends' train cars, he returned to a half-full Prefects Carriage. The only space available was one next to Theo.

"Took you long enough," she said through her teeth as he settled in. The pleasant smile plastered on her face didn't waver for one moment.

He put on a grin of his own, nodding in the direction of the newly appointed Gryffindor prefects. The two nodded back at him.

"I didn't take you as the clingy type," he said to Theo under his breath.

"One more wisecrack and I'll hex you into the little cockroach that you are," she whispered. "Be on time."

"Your wish is my command."

The two opted to ignore each other as more prefects started to file in. Eventually, the Express lurched forward and began its slow, steady journey towards school. Philip concealed a chuckle as the last prefect to arrive turned out to be his own sister.

"Sorry for being late," Angie said. She was still pinning her Ravenclaw prefect badge on to her robes as she took her place in the carriage.

Theo nodded amicably to acknowledge her before mumbling to Philip, "Runs in the family, huh?"

The conversation in the carriage had died down a bit and Philip now realized that almost everyone was expectantly looking at Theo and him. It made Philip's ego swell a bit. Other people usually buck under the weight of expectation. He found that he quite enjoyed it. For now, at least.

"Well, good morning —" Philip started.

"It's nice to see —" said Theo at the same time.

Both paused to glare at the other. After a terse moment, Philip yielded. "Ladies first," he said, offering her a snide smile.

She didn't return the grin. "It's nice to see you all," she continued, looking around the carriage. "To those who may not know me, I'm Theodosia Burr. You can call me Theo. I look forward to serving as your Head Girl this year."

She glanced at Philip.

"I hardly think that's necessary," he said

Unamused, Theo scowled. "It wouldn't kill you."

Philip sighed before smiling warmly at the youngest prefects in the carriage. "I'm Philip."

Theo waited for a moment then realized Philip wouldn't say anything more. She shot him a menacing look, opened her mouth as though she might reprimand him, then seemed to decide against it at the last moment. "Anyway. Today, we'll be discussing your responsibilities as student leaders. Your role as prefect starts as soon as now…"

For the lack of better terms, the rest of the meeting was comparable to a dumpster fire. Philip and Theo spoke over each other more than once. Theo would often attempt to reel Philip in when he broke off into tangenting speeches. Meanwhile, Philip found it difficult to conceal his expressions at some of Theo's instructions. Though they weren't bickering outright, anyone could glean that Philip and Theo weren't remotely fond of each other.

After what seemed like an eternity, the two Heads finally soldiered through assignments for train patrols. The task took much longer than it should have due to a couple of minor disagreements. Once it was all settled, Theo sent the prefects on their way.

The prefects didn't have to be told twice. They left hurriedly, looking relieved to escape the tensions running high in the carriage. On her way out, Angie shot Philip a look that indicated she was expecting a debriefing.

Once it was only Theo and him left, Philip turned to her. "That could have been worse," he said.

"How observant of you," she sneered. "The only way that could have been worse is if a Hippogriff crashed through the window and gauged my eyes out."

Philip grimaced at the image that popped up in his head. He stood from his seat and started pacing their carriage. It was a habit he never learned to kick. In his youth, he had run through a number of dragon hide shoes from all his nervous energy.

"Why was that so terrible?" he wondered.

Theo answered, even though it was mostly a rhetorical question. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you can't wait until it's your turn to speak?"

"Someone had to save the poor youngins from your 'well-meaning' advice."

"I'm certain they'd much rather have some counsel over your self-righteous soliloquies. And one more thing, you — won't you stop that?!"

Philip grinded to a halt. He clenched his jaw as Theo glowered up at him.

"We should just divide our responsibilities straight in half," she suggested. Her tone was levelled, almost strained in its forced authority. "Set agendas every time there's a meeting and stick to them. That way, we only see each other when we absolutely have to."

"Fine by me," said Philip haughtily.

"Fine," Theo repeated.

"Fine!"

"Fine," Before Theo could say anything more, Philip headed for the door. "I'll see you at the Start-of-Term Feast."

"Good riddance," Theo called out as he retreated. Philip didn't look back.

A few paces down the corridor, Philip realized he had no destination in mind. He had left all of his stuff in the Prefects Carriage, too. He wasn't about to return after walking out so he slowed his steps under the guise of patrolling the train.

It felt like downright purgatory. He wasn't sure whether he was imagining the glances and the whispers or if it was something that had always been around. Something he was only becoming acutely aware of after the summer's fall from grace. He tried to ignore it to the best of his ability, focusing instead on what he could see. He made some small talk with a few first-time prefects he ran into, even managing to squeeze in an apology for the frosty meeting. He bought a bag of Pumpkin Pasties and Cauldron Cakes from the trolley witch. He even hung around some of his previous teammates to discuss the Quidditch Cup final.

By the time it was nightfall, Philip was feeling significantly better. When Theo and him reconvened, she also seemed to be in a more pleasant mood. Neither apologized or acknowledged their spat from a few hours prior.

"I've reminded the prefects about what to do after the feast," he reported.

She hummed approvingly. "The conductor said we're about five minutes away from Hogsmeade station," she said. "Hagrid should be there to help lead the first-years to the boats."

It was a task Philip was mildly surprised to find the Heads in charge of. He hardly remembered the Head Boy and Girl helping him during his first year, though he supposed there were more important things on his mind at the time. Like praying he wouldn't end up in Slytherin.

As the Express pulled into Hogsmeade, Philip and Theo separated to help first-years from two coaches each. Briefly, Philip wondered if this was how the rest of their year would shape up to be.

Rubeus Hagrid's booming voice didn't give Philip much time to dwell on the thought.

"Philip 'Amilton! Look at ye," Hagrid greeted. "Head Boy! It just seems like yesterday ye were a wee lad gettin' in the boats yourself."

Philip smiled up at the half-giant. "I can hardly believe it myself, Mr. Hagrid," said Philip. "Time flies."

"Bah! When are ye gonna stop callin' me 'mister', eh?" Hagrid said, though he still looked immensely pleased to be referred to by the title. It's why Philip kept doing it.

Hagrid shook his keys at his belt and winked at Philip before bellowing, "Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! Follow me or yer Head Boy, or yer Head Girl. Mind yer step, now! Firs' years, follow me!"

Philip rounded up the first-years and walked them down a shady path, which in turn led to a fleet of small boats. Slowly but surely, he helped board three first-years in each of the boats that would carry them across the Black Lake. When he was done with the ones from his coaches, Philip stepped back and glanced down the shore.

He caught the moment Theo spotted Hagrid. Philip stared as she waded into the shallow water to embrace Hagrid, who was readying to lead the line of boats to the castle. The gamekeeper gave a fond, roaring laugh. He patted Theo on the head and told her something Philip couldn't quite hear. She returned back to land, where Hagrid cast a spell to dry her robes and shoes.

Philip kept watching. Theo was gentle with the first-years, letting them cling on her arm as they boarded the boats. Seeing her smile without any trace of hostility was such a foreign sight. Though Philip couldn't make out her words, she seemed to be giving the most nervous of them a word or two of comfort. The anxiety on the first-years' faces would immediately vanish.

Eventually, they were ready to go. Theo walked towards Philip as the enchanted boats started to sail themselves. "What's that look for?" she asked.

Philip hadn't realized how widely he had been smiling. He teased, "Who knew Theodosia Burr was a proper softie?"

She flushed pink. "Shut it," she mumbled. She made no extra effort to come up with a better comeback, which only entertained Philip further.

"I had no idea you've got such a big heart, Burr."

Pretending not to hear Philip, Theo turned on her heel and started walking back to the train. He chuckled and caught up with her. The rest of their trip to the castle passed in relative silence. The whole way there, Philip rode on the high of seeing such a rare side to Theo while she shot him annoyed looks.

Soon enough, they were filing into the Great Hall for the Start-of-Term Feast. Theo made a beeline for her House table while Philip slowed down a bit to look up at the thousands of floating candles illuminating the hall. It hit him, then, that it was the last Start-of-Term Feast he'd be having. He felt like he might cry if he thought too hard about it.

"Oi, Hamilton! Over here!"

Philip laughed as he headed over to his usual spot at the Gryffindor table.

"Wotcher, boys," he said as he squeezed in between Nathaniel Pendelton and Hercules Mulligan. "Try not to scare the first-years, eh?"

"There's nothing scarier than having you as Head Boy," said Nathaniel.

"How's workin' with the devil's spawn?" Hercules asked in a stage whisper. "We're surprised you made it out of your first meeting alive."

The two boys snickered as Philip waved a hand to shush them. The doors of the Great Hall swung open not long after. The noise from the four Houses' tables turned into a buzz of excitement as McGonagall led a line of wide-eyed first-years down the hall.

They came to a stop in front of the Sorting Hat and its stool. After the usual pleasantries — warnings about out-of-bound corridors and the Sorting Hat's infamous song — McGonagall unfurled a parchment of names.

"Blimey," Hercules mumbled, jutting his head in the direction of a particular first-year. "Isn't that one another Potter?"

Philip and Nathaniel craned their necks to catch a glimpse. "He looks like his father, too," Nathaniel said in awe. "If he's half as good as Harry Potter is in Quidditch, then we may finally manage to get a decent Seeker."

"Now, don't say that about Henry Knox…"

Philip motioned for them to be quiet as McGonagall officially kicked off the ceremony. "Polly Chapman!" she called out.

A blonde girl waltzed confidently up to the stool. The Sorting Hat wasn't on her head for more than a minute. "GRYFFINDOR!" it roared.

Polly stumbled over to the Gryffindor table to a spatter of applause. "My parents were Gryffindor, too," she gushed brightly to one of the prefects. Philip smiled. It was always nice to see people happy about the House they got into.

The next few first-years went by. The tables started to whisper again when McGonagall announced, "Scorpious Malfoy!"

Scorpious was practically a carbon copy of his father with his gray eyes and pale, pointed face. McGonagall had barely set the hat on his head when it screeched, "SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherins erupted into cheers. Scorpious nodded, half-smiling. As if he were already expecting it. He took a seat next to Theo, who put out her hand for him. Philip shook his head. Of course Theodosia Burr would ask a first-year for a handshake.

"This is it," Hercules hummed. McGonagall had called for Albus Potter.

As McGonagall placed the hat over Albus, it occurred to Philip that Harry Potter's son had almond-shaped bright green eyes. It was almost the same shade of green as —

"SLYTHERIN!" The hat bellowed after a moment too long.

The decision was met with silence. A perfect, profound silence. One that sat low, twisted a bit, and had damage in it. Philip immediately felt sorry for Albus. The boy was looking out into the fray, unsure.

Sounds of clapping cut through the quiet. Philip turned to see Theo applauding like her life depended on it. She snapped her head around to her housemates and mouthed something unintelligible. Philip figured it might have been a threat because the rest of the table snapped out of their momentary shock and followed suit in cheering for Albus. Scorpious excitedly waved the thoroughly discombobulated Potter over to his side.

"Well, I guess we're stuck with Henry," Nathaniel said gingerly.

The last first-year to be sorted was Rose Granger-Weasley, who looked thoroughly relieved to be placed in Gryffindor. After Rose's sorting, McGonagall clinked a spoon against her glass to grab everyone's attention. "A full year of magical education awaits each of you," the Headmistress said once the hall was sufficiently settled. "To our new students, welcome. To our old students, welcome back. To everyone, welcome home. Let's not delay the banquet. Tuck in, everyone."

Food magically appeared on the hundreds of plates set out on the House tables.

Hercules started piling mashed potatoes, roast beef, and steak onto his plate. "I missed this the most 'bout Hogwarts," he announced.

"Ditto," Nathaniel replied. He was loading up on lamb chops and Yorkshire pudding. "But save some room for dessert, big guy."

Philip lost himself in the delectable dishes and lively chatter. When dessert appeared and he reached out to grab chocolate éclairs and treacle tarts, he realized he had tuned out most of the noise over dinner. Coming back to his senses, he saw the little things he'd missed. Prying eyes flitting away quickly when he met them. Students leaning close to say something to one another behind their hands. Brash giggles that quieted at his acknowledgement.

"'Ey," Hercules said, mouth full of rice pudding. "You hoarded all that and you're not eatin' it, Hammy."

Philip pushed his plate towards his friend. "I'm full," he mumbled.

"More for me, then."

Hercules devoured the plateful of sweets. Both him and Nathaniel were oblivious to the churning of Philip's stomach, the race of his heartbeat.

People were looking. People were talking. It killed Philip that he had no idea what they were thinking or saying.

He was certain he might pass out when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Philip looked up. The attention that was earlier on him shifted to Theo, who looked unfazed. She seemed bored, even.

"The Headmistress wants us in her office," she said. "Are you done eating?"

"Right. I mean, yes. I'm done," Philip stood abruptly. He glanced at Hercules and Nathaniel, who watched on the interaction with growing interest. "I'll see you both later."

Theo didn't wait for him. She walked down the hall, deadpan to the several heads that turned as she passed. Philip initially followed a few paces behind. He fell into step with her once they were out in the corridor.

"I'm wonky with directions," he confessed. "I've only got some approximate knowledge about where we're heading."

"Third-floor Gargoyle Corridor in the West Tower," she answered immediately. Philip must have looked surprised because she offered up an explanation. "I was given instructions."

Despite the lanterns lighting their way, Theo pulled out her wand and cast a wand-lighting charm.

"Hey," he said as they rounded the corner to the West Tower. "What you did for Albus Potter back there was… really nice of you."

She looked suspicious, then baffled. "I didn't do anything," she said.

Philip was about to joke that humility didn't suit her when he realized she was serious. Theo genuinely didn't think she'd done anything out of the ordinary. He nodded, not knowing what else to say.

Once they got to the Stairwell Gargoyle, Theo pulled out a piece of parchment from the pocket of her robes.

"Siamese," she read out loud. The gargoyle leapt to the side, revealing a circular, moving stone staircase.

"A cat?" Philip said with amusement as they ascended.

"It makes sense. A cat's her patronus, after all."

They reached McGonagall's office not long after. It was Philip's first time in the room. By the looks of it, it was Theo's, too.

She immediately approached the impressive, expansive anthology of literature. Several cabinets lined the large, circular room, all groaning under the weight of what looked like thousands of books. "These are out of production," she mumbled as she read some of the spines. "I can't believe she has them."

What caught Philip's eye, on the other hand, was an intricate closet containing various Quidditch memorabilia. He knew that McGonagall was keenly interested in the fortunes of Gryffindor's team but Philip thought it was just because she was the previous Head of House. He hadn't realized she had played at one point, too. He watched, slack-jawed, as a moving photograph showed a young McGonagall snatching a Snitch.

It didn't end there. Her collection of Quidditch items were all in pristine condition, with some items so rare that Philip couldn't believe his eyes. "These are the goggles Ethan Parkin used in his 1985 match against the Montrose Magpies," He pressed his fingers against the closet. "How did she even get this?"

"Parkin gifted them to me himself. Hands off the collection, Hamilton. It is quite a pain to have to clean up fingerprints."

Philip jumped, feeling his face turn red. McGonagall had swept into the room without him or Theo noticing.

Theo looked like she was trying to conceal a laugh at Philip being called out. Her simper disappeared when McGonagall turned to her and said, "And you, Mrs. Burr, should also know better than pulling out books that aren't yours. You never know which of those may be enchanted, or worse, cursed."

The two Heads mumbled their apologies.

"Goodness, don't put your heads down like that," McGonagall chided. "You're seventh-years, not children. Be seated."

McGonagall settled behind her desk. Philip and Theo followed suit, each occupying an armchair across from her. The Headmistress gestured towards a bowl of sweets. Unsurprising to Philip, Theo took up the offer and plucked out a jelly skull.

"Having candy ready is a piece of advice I got from my predecessor," McGonagall said absently. Philip looked up and saw that the portraits of previous Headmasters and Headmistresses were mostly snoozing. Directly behind McGonagall's desk was the portrait of Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore was slumbering in a golden frame, looking peaceful and untroubled. Something about his skewed halfmoon spectacles made Philip think the portrait may have not been sleeping at all, but McGonagall gave him no time to ask.

She fixed an expectant gaze on the two. "How was your first meeting with prefects?"

Neither Philip nor Theo were in a hurry to respond. That seemed to be enough of an answer for the Headmistress. McGonagall sighed. "I understand that the two of you have had some… differences," she said. "But surely there's something you two can agree on."

"We have, Headmistress. We've agreed to be more intentional about our responsibilities," Theo said.

"That sounds like a start. Care to elaborate?"

This time, it was Philip who responded. "We'll be halving our tasks," he said. "To hopefully avoid disagreements as much as possible."

Theo jumped in. She looked annoyed that Philip was trying to explain her suggestion. "We'll get together when necessary, but we would like to focus on our respective strengths. So if there's anything needed of us, Headmistress, you can contact either of us and that person will take on the task."

But McGonagall didn't seem pleased. "You intend to do what?" she sputtered.

Philip and Theo glanced at each other unsurely.

"It was her idea," he said quickly.

"He agreed whole-heartedly that it was a good idea," Theo retorted.

The Headmistress pinched the bridge of her nose. "Stop squabbling," she commanded. The two promptly shut up.

"I'll have you both know that the Board of Governors were not for this arrangement. Particularly the Heads of your respective Houses," McGonagall paused. "Oh, don't give me that look, Hamilton. They vouched for you as individuals, sure, but strongly advised against having you two together. They thought your rivalry would get in the way of your work."

She kept going as Philip and Theo shrunk into their seats a bit, ashamed to be on the other end of the Headmistress' ire. "And I told them that would not not be the case! Why? Because I trusted the two of you would be mature enough to understand that this role entails collaboration."

"I will not have a Head Boy and Head Girl who cannot stand to be in the same room as each other," McGonagall said sternly. "You are free to delineate your tasks as you please, but you will work jointly more often than not. And in front of your prefects, you will put on a united front. A facade of faux civility, if you must. Do you understand? This will be your legacy. "

Philip winced at the word 'legacy'. He already had so much riding on him, he thought. So much weight on his shoulders. He knew being Head Boy would be another boulder to carry uphill; he hadn't realized how steep the climb upwards would be.

Reluctantly, he mumbled, "Yes, Headmistress."

An expressionless Theo nodded in agreement as well.

"You're both dismissed," McGonagall said.

The two stood and made for the door. McGonagall called out to them right before they were completely gone from her sight.

The Headmistress hesitated. She looked like she was weighing the pros and cons of her next words. "The Board said I could choose one of you, but not both. I stood my ground. My deal was either you two were Heads or neither of you would be. They conceded, trusting my judgment."

McGonagall peered at Philip and Theo over her glasses. "Do not prove me wrong," she said firmly.

The look she gave them, then, haunted Philip in the days that followed. He would remember it even two weeks later, during the first round of tryouts for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Out of nowhere, McGonagall's words passed his mind as he eyed a goal post. Do not prove me wrong.

The Quaffle was out of his hands before he mustered enough strength to toss it. The lanky fifth-year who was trying out to be a Keeper blocked it with ease. If the rest of the people in the air noticed the lousy throw, none of them brought it up.

He turned to Hercules and Nathaniel. "I think we've seen enough," he told them. "Let's finalize the line-up over lunch." The two nodded and flew off to inform the rest.

Philip dove down and came to a stop a few meters above ground. He almost missed Theo lingering on the pitch. He smirked when he caught sight of her.

"Got nothing better to do, Burr?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked innocently, shifting the weight of the books in her hands. "Watching you fail is my favorite pastime."

Philip lowered himself onto the ground. "I got distracted, that's all," he said.

"Really, you should try getting your head out of your arse when you're holding something as important as tryouts."

"I'm not about to take game advice from someone who has barely dirtied their robes."

"Excuse me?"

"Notice how Slytherin hasn't won the Quidditch Cup since they made you Chaser?" Philip said. He leaned on his broom, smiling cheekily. "It's because you don't want to win as hard as we do."

Theo glared back at him. "You're so full of yourself."

"So I've heard," he said. "While chatting with you is always a pleasure, I doubt you're here to profess your undying love for me."

"I'm saving that for when the world ends. Slughorn wants the two of us in his classroom early today."

The two shared a Potions class. They shared a total of four classes, actually, though Philip didn't know what Theo was taking her subjects for. He wondered if they would end up in the same career. The thought made him shiver.

"Did he say why?" he asked.

Theo shrugged.

"Okay. Give me a few minutes to change out of my gear," he said. "Don't miss me too much while I'm gone."

"Oh, however will I live," she shot back. She stalked off to a nearby stone bench as Philip headed for the changing rooms.

Except Philip took more than a few minutes. There were a lot of reasons, sure. The core of it was that Philip was vain to a fault, needing to make sure he was completely put together before going anywhere. By the time he emerged from the changing rooms, a fuming Theo was already gathering her things. "Your impatience strikes again," he teased.

"And your utter disregard for other people's time means we won't be able to meet with Slughorn," she said, visibly crossed.

Philip gave her a small, apologetic smile. Any other girl might have given in to that. Theo was not any other girl.

She started briskly walking to the dungeons. Philip followed a couple of steps behind, not wanting to push buttons when he knew he was in the wrong. They got to their classroom as Horace Slughorn finished writing on the blackboard.

"Glad to see you two made it on time," he said good-naturedly. The two apologized quietly and made for the only vacant table left. Much to their chagrin, it was adjacent seats.

The Potions Master moved on. "Good morning, everyone. Today, we will be working on something I'm sure you've all encountered: The elixir to induce euphoria."

He tapped on the board behind him. "Without consulting your books, can you tell me possible side effects to the potion?"

Philip's hand shot up.

Slughorn made a show of looking around the classroom. It hadn't gone unnoticed by Philip, how he seemed to have fallen from the professor's graces. For years, Slughorn praised Philip's intellect and skill. That year was different. He was less keen on giving Philip attention and the latter knew it was likely due to the events of the summer. Philip wasn't about to give up, though.

Everyone else in the classroom averted their eyes from Slughorn. Philip raised his hand a little higher until the Potions Master eventually gave in. "Hamilton?"

"Excessive singing and nose-tweaking, sir."

"Exactly. Five points to Gryffindor. Now," Slughorn gestured to a cauldron that was at his desk. "For most of you, this was already a potion you did in your sixth year. Today, I expect you to figure out how to mitigate the elixir's most common side effects."

Theo cursed under her breath. Normally, Philip would take the opportunity to make a jab at her, but he was too excited with the task ahead to be mean.

"As usual, the recipe is on the board and the ingredients are in the cupboards. Add or subtract as you deem fit. You are free to peruse any of the items in the first three closets. Ingredients from the shelves beyond that may lead to deadly consequences," Slughorn's eyes twinkled. It was hard to tell if he was kidding. "You have two and a half hours, starting… Now!"

Philip was the first one to the cupboards. He had experimented with elixirs a couple of times over the summer. Though he wasn't entirely sure about counterbalancing, he knew enough about the potion's recipe to draw some educated guesses.

Theo was still intently poring over her Advanced Potion-Making book when Philip returned, arms full of ingredients. "The potion's not going to make itself, Burr," he taunted, pulling out his own dog-eared textbook.

The page for euphoria elixir was heavily annotated. Philip's scratchy handwriting took up most of the book, overlapping the original instructions. Some notes even lined the margins. Theo stared at it with equal curiosity and distaste. "You are insane," she said as she peered over his shoulder.

Philip moved the book away, sticking his tongue out at her like a child. She smacked him on the shoulder.

For the next two hours, Philip was fully in the zone. The Potions dungeon was one of the three places on campus where he never doubted his abilities; the other two being the Quidditch pitch and the Greenhouses.

He found, early on, that he was a decent potioneer. His father liked to chalk it up to the children's potion kit Philip got for Christmas at age seven. Ever since then, Philip had an almost morbid fascination with how it all worked. How the cauldron you were using could affect the end product. How it mattered, what you used to stir. How a single ingredient could change everything. In the Euphoria Elixir's case, it was a sprig of peppermint. Philip had figured out previously that the Shrivelfig's properties were what induced euphoria. After checking his notes for other potions, he was sure. Peppermint would negate the side-effects.

Theo spotted the peppermint on his side of the table and, not so discreetly, got some for herself. Philip laughed. It didn't matter because he was doing a dozen other alterations to the recipe that she wouldn't be able to keep up with. He stirred three times counter-clockwise instead of four. He crushed the Sophorous beans with the flat side of his silver dagger to release its juices better. He let the potion simmer for five minutes longer than prescribed before adding wormwood.

The potion turned sunshine yellow. A rainbow began to shimmer out of the cauldron, drawing Slughorn's attention.

"With 30 minutes to spare!" he said gleefully as he came over to inspect Philip's work. Most of the class paused to watch.

"Record time, that is. Oh, and I smell… Mmmm… Yes, yes. That's the perfect counter to the side-effects. I won't say it out loud because your peers may start to question themselves," Slughorn pointedly glanced up at the other students, who all glanced away quickly. "But this is a true stroke of inspiration, my boy."

There was an unmistakable glint in Slughorn's grin. It was the same expression he had every time he received Crystallised Pineapple from a Slug Club member. Philip knew, then, that he had redeemed himself once again in the man's eyes.

"10 points to Gryffindor," Slughorn announced. "If I were any less wise, I'd bottle this potion up and sell it for hundreds of galleons. That's how well-made this is, Hamilton."

"Thank you, sir."

Slughorn turned to Theo, his expression initially anticipatory. It quickly twisted in to one of concern. "And, Ms. Burr… ah. Well."

Just by looking at Theo's cauldron, Philip could already name four things she'd done wrong. The most obvious, though, was the amount of peppermint sprigs she'd jammed into her potion. Her work reeked of mint when it was supposed to be odorless.

"I may have miscalculated," Theo said through gritted teeth. She was trying to keep mixing but her potion had taken on tar-like consistency, tinged with a sickly green instead of the intended yellow. There were beads of sweat on her face from all the effort she was putting in to stirring.

"Don't we all sometimes," Slughorn smiled kindly. "Well, it's a good thing you've got a brilliant seatmate. Maybe Hamilton can help salvage… whatever that is. Won't you, boy?"

Philip bit his tongue in an attempt not to chuckle. "Yes, sir."

Slughorn walked away to check in on the others. Theo didn't look at all pleased.

"I don't need your help," she said.

Philip didn't have time to respond. Her potion began to bubble ominously. His cry of warning came a little too late.

The potion exploded, drenching Theo in her own mud-like potion. Philip could hear Slughorn's disappointed "Oh my…" from behind them.

She turned to look at Philip. "I don't want to hear anything from you," she said viciously, eyes blazing underneath the muck dripping down her face and robes.

He made a zipping motion with his mouth as quiet laughs wracked his frame.

Maybe there would be some joy in his year after all, he thought.