"How was practice?" asked Magda rather coolly 90 minutes later, as we climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.
"It was —" Harry began
"Alright" I finished, as the first team practice had been. At the same time, Ron said "Lousy"
"Ok, you two are sending me mixed messages" said Magda, which was it, good, or lousy?"
"Mate, we play on different teams, Ginny and Harry are on the first team, and the rest of us the reserve" said Hermione, who we had met up with outside the hospital wing once Pomfrey had given the all clear. She said this in an exasperated tone.
Magda rolled her eyes "Oh, I'm sorry. Sorry that I don't know all the ins and outs of the Gryffindor Quidditch teams"
"You've been to every game we've played since you started here" said Hermione "you should know which teams we're on"
Magda opened her mouth to respond, but Demelza intervened "Look, let's not argue about it" she said "the reserve team practice was lousy because, well..." she bit her lip "Ron underperformed, shall we say, and, uh"
"I was fucking useless, don't sugarcoat it!" Ron said "I put Hermione in the hospital wing"
Magda gasped, and chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment. "Well, umm, it was only your first practice wasn't it? You can surely improve" she said unconvincingly
"I'm going to get started on some homework," said Ron angrily and stomped off to the staircase to the boys' dormitories and vanished from sight. There was an awkward moment of silence.
"What happened to you, Hermione?" Magda tentatively asked eventually.
"He got overexcited about catching the Quaffle, having missed a couple times, and threw it really hard into my face" Hermione replied
Magda winced
"It gets worse" Amy added. "The twins had given me what they thought was Nosebleed Nougat, so I could use the healing end on anyone who needed it, but it was actually the Blood Blisterpod"
"Oh Merlin" Magda winced even harder, "so, instead of healing, it..." she made a motion to indicate it getting much worse, and Amy nodded.
"Anyway" Andrew said, seeking to lighten the mood, "at least their practice was fine." He pointed at Harry and I.
Demelza, Amy, Luna and I spent a relatively happy Sunday hanging out on the grounds, though Demelza did become annoyingly stubborn when we suggested entering the forbidden forest. That evening though, something interesting happened. I, in a very rare turn of events, had finished my homework first. Demelza had a long and complicated Arithmancy essay to finish, and Amy was behind on Charms. So I spent some time chatting with Hermione while she knitted more elf clothes.
"Thoughts on the Pride so far this year?" I asked her
"I've not been able to catch a full game yet, had other priorities, but the results have been good" 5 wins, a draw and a defeat to defending champions Puddlemere United (vomits internally).
"Yeah, you guys look like title challengers this year, as do the Harpies to be fair." It was true, it was very close at the top between Holyhead, Puddlemere and the Pride. The Wasps had suffered an awful start, winning only one of their first 7 games, resulting in the sacking of their manager. I was in the middle of another fruitless attempt at persuading her to give SPEW up when Ron said "bloody hell!" and we looked around. It was 11:30 now and most people, including Demelza and Amy, had gone to bed.
"Could you say that a bit louder, I'm not sure everyone woke up" I told him, but he ignored this, and I followed his line of sight to see HERMES of all creatures at the window
"What on earth's Percy writing to me for?" Ron said
He crossed to the window and opened it; Hermes flew inside, landed upon Ron's essay, and held out a leg to which a letter was attached. Ron took it off and the owl departed at once, leaving inky footprints across Ron's drawing of the moon Io. "That's definitely Percy's handwriting," said Ron, sinking back into his chair and staring at the words on the outside of the scroll: To Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor House, Hogwarts. He looked up at us "What d'you reckon?"
"Open it!" said Hermione eagerly
"No, I think you should throw it into the fire" I said, but again, this was ignored.
Ron unrolled the scroll and began to read. The farther down the parchment his eyes traveled, the more pronounced became his scowl. When he had finished reading, he looked disgusted. He thrust the letter at us, and we leaned toward each other to read it together:
Dear Ron, I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minister of Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect. I was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this news and must firstly offer my congratulations. I must admit that I have always been afraid that you would take what we might call the "Fred and George" route, rather than following in my footsteps, so you can imagine my feelings on hearing you have stopped flouting authority and have decided to shoulder some real responsibility. But I want to give you more than congratulations, Ron, I want to give you some advice, which is why I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morning post. Hopefully you will be able to read this away from prying eyes and avoid awkward questions.
From something the Minister let slip when telling me you are now a prefect, I gather that you are still seeing a lot of Harry Potter.
("Of course you are seeing a lot of Harry, why wouldn't you?" I said)
I must tell you, Ron, that nothing could put you in danger of losing your badge more than continued fraternization with that boy. Yes, I am sure you are surprised to hear this — no doubt you will say that Potter has always been Dumbledore's favorite — but I feel bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at Hogwarts much longer and the people who count have a very different — and probably more accurate — view of Potters behavior. I shall say no more here, but if you look at the Daily Prophet tomorrow you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing — and see if you can spot yours truly!
(Um, think I'll pass on that thanks" The looking for Percy part, not the- they got my meaning)
Seriously, Ron, you do not want to be tarred with the same brush as Potter, it could be very damaging to your future prospects, and I am talking here about life after school too. As you must be aware, given that our father escorted him to court, Potter had a disciplinary hearing this summer in front of the whole Wizengamot and he did not come out of it looking too good. He got off on a mere technicality if you ask me and many of the people I've spoken to remain convinced of his guilt. It may be that you are afraid to sever ties with Potter — I know that he can be unbalanced and, for all I know, violent — but if you have any worries about this, or have spotted anything else in Potter's behavior that is troubling you, I urge you to speak to Dolores Umbridge, a really delightful woman, who I know will be only too happy to advise you.
("Truly delightful?! Fucking hell if only you knew...)
"This leads me to my other bit of advice. As I have hinted CHAPTER FOURTEEN 298 above, Dumbledore's regime at Hogwarts may soon be over. Your loyalty, Ron, should be not to him, but to the school and the Ministry.
(Fuck that!"
Just finish it for god's sake! Hermione said
"I-"
"I know it's hard but it's nearly midnight! Who's waking everyone else up now?
I bit my lip and went silent)
I am very sorry to hear that so far Professor Umbridge is encountering very little cooperation from staff as she strives to make those necessary changes within Hogwarts that the Ministry so ardently desires (although she should find this easier from next week — again, see the Prophet tomorrow!). I shall say only this — a student who shows himself willing to help Professor Umbridge now may be very well placed for Head Boyship in a couple of years! I am sorry that I was unable to see more of you over the summer. It pains me to criticize our parents, but I am afraid I can no longer live under their roof while they remain mixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore (if you are writing to Mother at any point, you might tell her that a certain Sturgis Podmore, who is a great friend of Dumbledore's, has recently been sent to Azkaban for trespass at the Ministry. Perhaps that will open their eyes to the kind of petty criminals with whom they are currently rubbing shoulders).
I count myself very lucky to have escaped the stigma of association with such people — the Minister really could not be more gracious to me — and I do hope, Ron, that you will not allow family ties to blind you to the misguided nature of our parents' beliefs and actions either. I sincerely hope that, in time, they will realize how mistaken they were and I shall, of course, be ready to accept a full apology when that day comes. Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about Harry Potter, and congratulations again on becoming prefect,
Your brother,
Percy.
We looked up at Ron. "Well," Harry said, trying to sound as though he found the whole thing a joke, "if you want to — er — what is it?" (He checked Percy's letter.) "Oh yeah — 'sever ties' with me, I swear I won't get violent." I made to rip the letter up, but Ron got there first.
"Give it back," said Ron, holding out his hand. "He is —" Ron said jerkily, tearing Percy's letter in half, "the world's" — he tore it into quarters — "biggest" — he tore it into eighths — "git." He threw the pieces into the fire.
Feeling that there was nothing left for me to say or do, I stormed off to bed, not even saying goodnight and wondering if I would ever be angrier in my life.