"Then you really have no taste." Seamus, who had wandered in unnoticed, said, "Proper Fanta is orange-flavored; things like grape or apple are heresy! Heresy, do you understand?!"
However, Ron gave a surprisingly mature smile and didn't argue with Seamus.
"You're actually right; the orange flavor is quite good too."
"Speaking of Fanta, there's actually a bit of history there." Hermione started to lecture but then thought better of it and gave up. "Never mind. You aren't Muggles, so there's no need for you to know that history."
Just then, a head suddenly poked into the compartment.
"Ron, Hermione?" said the head. "You need to come out for a moment."
Ron and Hermione left, leaving behind Harry, Neville, Seamus, Anne, and Luna, who was pretending to read The Quibbler.
They sat and chatted for a while until the food trolley arrived.
Harry bought a heap of things as usual; he always had a bit of trouble controlling himself when it came to snacks on the train.
He had barely taken a few bites when Ron and Hermione returned.
"I'm starving," Ron announced.
Saying this, Ron grabbed a Chocolate Frog from Harry's hand and slumped into the seat next to him.
He tore open the wrapper, bit off the frog's head in one go, and then leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes as if the morning had completely famished him.
"Didn't you eat three chicken legs this morning?" Hermione asked with a frown. "Who exactly starved you...?"
"It's from exhaustion," Ron said, sitting there as if all his strength had been drained.
"What did you two go off to do?" Harry asked curiously.
"Oh!" Ron suddenly perked up. "If you're asking about that, then I'm not tired anymore—I've been made a Gryffindor prefect... You know, prefects are usually one boy and one girl, and Hermione is our female prefect..."
"That's great news!" Harry felt genuinely happy for his best friend. "Congratulations! Have another Chocolate Frog."
Seamus and Neville also offered their congratulations. Seamus, in particular, even wanted to cast a spell to celebrate, but fortunately, Neville held him back just in time.
Ron took the Chocolate Frog Harry offered, opened it, and glanced at the card.
"Oh, it's Dumbledore again." Ron shrugged. "Remember when we first met? That time you treated me to a Chocolate Frog, the card was Dumbledore then too."
"Of course." Harry recalled the scene and couldn't help but smile.
"Just as Ron said, there are two fifth-year prefects from each House," said Hermione, looking thoroughly disgruntled as she took her seat. "A boy and a girl."
"Guess who the Slytherin prefect is?" Ron said with a look of eager gossip.
"It's gotta be Draco," Harry replied without hesitation. "Don't forget, his father is a school governor; how could he not become a prefect? If I remember correctly, Lucius was a prefect when he was in school, and so was his grandfather."
There was one thing he didn't say: the Malfoys had always been prefects. When Cassandra was in school, she was also the Slytherin female prefect.
"Exactly," said Ron indignantly, stuffing the body of the frog into his mouth and reaching for another.
Even though they were now in the Dueling Club together, Ron still couldn't bring himself to like that bastard.
Because Draco always targeted him whenever he had nothing better to do.
"And that absolute cow, Pansy Parkinson," said Hermione shrilly. "How could she be made a prefect? She's thicker than a concussed troll! Honestly, I can't even imagine..."
"Who's it for Hufflepuff?" Harry asked.
"Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott," Ron answered quickly. "Cedric didn't want to be a prefect anymore; he said he wants to focus his energy on his studies for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s."
"A wise choice; after all, one's energy is limited," Seamus commented from the side. He quite liked Cedric. "I think he did the right thing."
"Ravenclaw has Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil," Hermione added. "That's all the prefects for the new term."
"Mum's going to be absolutely thrilled," Ginny piped up from the side. "Another prefect in the family after Percy—you know, Bill and Charlie were both prefects when they were in school too."
"Yeah, I just wonder what Mum will give me as a reward." Ron raised his eyebrows, beaming with delight. "But I hope it's not chicken legs again. I'm getting tired of eating chicken legs every time I get a reward..."
"Don't worry, Ron," Ginny said with a laugh. "Every prefect in the family gets a unique reward. I'm sure you'll receive Mum's reward and praise too—"
"Thanks, Ginny," Ron said, smiling.
"We're supposed to patrol the corridors every now and then," he added, turning to Seamus and Neville. "Hey, mates, if anyone's making trouble, we can punish them—I'd really love to catch Crabbe and Goyle doing something right now."
"You shouldn't abuse your authority, Ron!" Hermione criticized sternly.
"Yeah, right, because Malfoy would never abuse his authority," Ron said sarcastically. "Even if he's not as annoying as he used to be, anyone who knows Slytherin knows he'll be just like his biased Head of House—looking for any excuse to dock points from others!"
"So you're going to lower yourself to his level?" Hermione asked with a sneer.
"No, I just want to make sure I teach his friends a lesson before he bullies mine," Ron said nonchalantly. "Am I supposed to hold onto some moral high ground while getting targeted from every direction? Don't be ridiculous, Hermione... Professor McGonagall is exactly like that, which is why Slytherin won the House Cup for six years in a row—if it weren't for Harry, that trend would have continued! When are you going to wake up..."
"For Merlin's sake, Ron—" Hermione stood up furiously.
"I'm going to make Goyle write lines; it'll kill him, he hates writing," Ron said happily.
He lowered his voice to mimic Goyle's gruff grunts, scrunching his face up as if in painful concentration, and pretended to write in the air: "I... must... not... look... like... a... baboon's... backside."
Everyone roared with laughter, but no one laughed harder than Luna.
She let out a peal of sharp, hysterical laughter that made Neville jump.
Luna was laughing so hard that the magazine in her hands slipped off her lap and onto the floor.
"Oh, The Quibbler," Hermione said, picking it up. She smacked her lips, her eyebrows twitching skeptically.
She glanced down at it and looked up again. "According to the magazine, if you turn these Ancient Runes upside down, you can see that they're actually a spell to turn your enemy's ears into kumquats..."
As she said this, her tone suddenly became biting and mean, just like Pansy's. "The Quibbler is a pile of rubbish; everyone knows that."
"Excuse me," Luna said, her voice suddenly losing its dreamy quality. "My father is the editor of that magazine."
"I... oh," said Hermione, looking incredibly embarrassed. "I see... well, some of it is quite interesting... I mean, it's still very..."
Luna's face fell. She leaned forward and snatched the magazine from Hermione's hand, riffling through the pages to fifty-seven, then resolutely turned it upside down and hid her face behind it.
The atmosphere in the compartment became rather awkward, especially for Hermione, who wished she could find a hole to crawl into.
It was simply too embarrassing; calling someone's father's magazine a "pile of rubbish" right to their daughter's face was terribly rude.
"Actually, that's not entirely true, look," said Harry with a chuckle. "That bit about the Ancient Runes was spot on."
"You think so too?" asked Luna, her voice muffled from behind the magazine.
Just then, the compartment door slid open again.
"Potter!" Draco exclaimed excitedly. "I'm going to give you detention—look, I'm a prefect now!"
Harry said nothing. He simply glanced back at Luna, and seeing that she had lowered the magazine from her face, he raised his wand and pointed it at Draco.
Instantly, Draco's ears transformed into bright yellow-orange kumquats.
"Ah, they really did turn into oranges," Ron laughed, clapping his hands.
"Eh? What did you do?" Draco suddenly felt his ears grow heavy; he touched them and discovered they had turned into heavy, round objects.
"Hey!" Draco protested unhappily. "I was just joking with you, no need to take it so seriously, is there? Besides, it wasn't me who wanted to give you detention; Cassandra asked me to do it—I'm going to tell Cassandra about this!"
Harry: ...
Alright, alright, so now instead of crying to your daddy, you're crying to your great-aunt?
What a good grandson!
"It won't do you any good telling her," Harry said with a grin. "It's not like I'm afraid of her."
Draco coughed twice, and his ears returned to normal.
It was Harry; Harry had lifted the spell.
Draco breathed a sigh of relief, then pulled out a bag and handed it to Harry, saying, "Cassandra told me to bring this to you; she said it's the modified Gryffindor uniform..."
Harry took the bag and opened it. Inside were two uniform robes and some scarves, all permeated with Cassandra's scent.
Used items again, huh?
"Supposedly, these are clothes she's worn herself." Draco didn't seem to think he was saying anything inappropriate. "She has no use for them anymore anyway, so she might as well give them to her boyfriend—honestly, Harry, I didn't expect you two to wear the same size."
Anne, sitting opposite them, looked somewhat surprised, but after frowning for a moment, she relaxed.
She had heard before that Harry asked for Cassandra's old robes to wear; it seemed... people weren't just making it up.
"You're not even as tall as me," Harry retorted.
In fact, Cassandra had altered the size to be larger, as Harry was now a bit taller than her.
Do you understand the value of a supermodel physique?
"Alright, since I've delivered the goods, I'm off," Draco said with a grin. "I need to hurry out and see if those Weasley clones are causing any trouble so I can deduct points from them—wouldn't you agree, Weasley?"
Draco was looking at Ron as he said this.
Ron wanted to reach out and punch him, but he held back.
He decided to engage in mutual destruction with Draco; if you're going to target Gryffindor, don't blame me for stomping on Slytherin!
After Draco left, Harry sat there with his forehead pressed against the train window, hugging Cassandra's clothes.
He could see Hogwarts in the distance, but it was a moonless night, and the rain-streaked window was grimy.
"We'd better change," Hermione said finally.
She and Ron carefully pinned their prefect badges to their chests. Harry watched as Ron checked his reflection in the dark windowpane.
At last, the train began to slow down, and they heard the usual commotion as everyone scrambled to get their luggage and pets together, preparing to disembark.
Ron and Hermione had to supervise the students, so they disappeared from the compartment again.
"I still don't get it," Harry said, looking up at the weather. "Why does it always rain or get cloudy every time school starts? Is there some kind of pattern?"
"Perhaps it is due to some unknown factors," Luna's ethereal voice drifted from behind him. "You know, Hogwarts always has its secrets, ones that even we can hardly know completely."
"Maybe," Harry shrugged. "Or maybe the Founders wanted the first years to fully experience the hardships of starting from nothing."
They dragged their heavy feet out of the compartment and merged with the crowd in the corridor, feeling the sting of the night air on their faces for the first time.
They shuffled slowly toward the doors, and Harry could smell the scent of the pine trees lining the path to the lake.
Stepping onto the platform, he looked around, straining his ears for that familiar voice: "Firs' years over here! Firs' years?"
Before Harry could greet Hagrid, he felt a poke at his waist.
He turned to see Anne looking timidly at him.
"Harry..." Her large eyes were bright and clear, giving her a pitiful look. "Do I have to go with him? Or..."
"Oh, just follow me," Harry said with a chuckle. "You aren't exactly a first year, are you?"
—You're a fifth-year veteran, aren't you?
"Oh, oh, right," Anne mumbled in reply, looking around.
Harry looked up again and met Hagrid's searching gaze.
As their eyes locked, both raised their arms and waved high in the air as a greeting.
"I think," Harry said, turning back to Anne, "after you've settled in, you should talk to Hagrid more. He's a great person, and the food he makes is delicious—like his Rock Cakes..."
--
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