But Ron was still in a cloud of his own, he was now smiling, ‘A new broom! I wish I could go with Mum and choose...She’ll never be able to afford a Nimbus, but there’s the new Cleansweep out, that’d be great...Yeah, I think I’ll go and tell her I like the Cleansweep, just so she knows...’

He dashed from the room, leaving just Harry’s family in the kitchen. With Ron gone he stopped trying to be happy, his anger and frustration couldn’t be suppressed anymore.

‘Well that’s good for Ron, being a Prefect—‘ said Canini

‘Well if Ron is such an angel maybe you should go catch up to him to worship him!’

‘Harry!’ scolded Remus.

‘He’s not wrong though, the other boys in our house and year are all bullies, but one of them was chosen instead of me,’ said Theodore in a surprise outburst. ‘What did I do that made me less worthy than some blood purity supremacist?’

Then Canini spoke, ‘a-and I guess Hufflepuff w-will be needing a knee male Prefect t-this year too,’ tears welling up in her eyes. ‘Now that Ced-Cedric is...that he’s...’

‘Children...’ Sirius said calmly, but Harry didn’t want to hear it at the moment, he took off for the stairs.

He slammed the door behind him as he entered his bedroom, and flung himself on his cot.

He had forgotten completely about prefects being chosen in the fifth year. He had been too anxious about the possibility of being expelled to spare a thought for the fact that badges must be winging their way toward certain people.

But if he had remembered...if he had thought about it...what would he have expected?

Not this, said a small and truthful voice inside his head.

Harry screwed up his face and buried it in his hands. He could not lie to himself; if he had known the prefect badge was on its way, he would have expected it to come to him, not someone like Draco Malfoy or Blaise Zabini. Did this make him as arrogant and mean as Pansy or Blaise? Did he think himself superior to everyone else? And then there was Theodore, deep down Harry knew he was the perfect choice but that didn’t stop Harry from wanting the badge, did he really believe he was better than Theodore?

No, said the small voice defiantly. Was that true? Harry wondered, anxiously probing his own feelings. I’m better at Quidditch, said the voice. But I’m not better at anything else, Theodore is better at everything but Quidditch.

That was definitely true, Harry thought; he was not better than Theodore in lessons. But what about outside lessons? What about those adventures he, Theodore, and the others had had together since they had started at Hogwarts, often risking much worse than expulsion?

Well, Theodore and the others were with me most of the time, said the voice in Harry’s head.

Not all the time, though, Harry argued with himself. Theodore didn’t fight Quirrell with me. He didn’t take on Riddle and the basilisk. He wasn’t in that graveyard with me, the night Voldemort returned...Theodore’s father was though.

And the same feeling of ill usage that had overwhelmed him on the night he had arrived rose again. I’ve definitely done more, Harry thought indignantly. I’ve done more than Theodore, and definitely more than the other boys!

But maybe, said the small voice fairly, maybe Dumbledore doesn’t choose prefects because they’ve got themselves into a load of dangerous situations...Maybe he chooses them for other reasons...Draco or Zabini must have something you don’t...

There was a knock at the door, Harry thought it was Ron or Theodore as this was their room too.

‘Go away! I don’t want to talk to you right now!’

‘Not even me?’ said Sirius.

Harry sighed, he didn’t quite feel like talking, but if he was to talk to anyone it’d be Sirius.

Harry sat up on his cot, ‘Come in Padfoot.’

Sirius entered and sat next to Harry on the cot, but didn’t speak. Eventually Harry broke the silence.

‘Where is—‘

‘Moony is having a similar chat with Theodore and Canini. I’m sorry Harry, we didn’t realize this Prefect talk was such a sore subject for the three of you.’

Harry buried his face in between his knees, ‘After all I’ve done to protect the school, and even the wizarding world as a whole, I thought I’d be considered more fit to be Prefect than jerk Malfoy or bully Zabini.’

‘How do you know it is one of them and not one of the other two boys you’ve mentioned.’

This managed to get Harry to snort, Crabbe and Goyle only ever followed the orders of the biggest baddest bully in Slytherin, they literally couldn’t make the decisions needed to be a Prefect. If one of them were chosen Harry would truly feel insulted.

‘Yeah, that’s unlikely.’

‘What Remus said upset you? Didn’t it?’

‘It didn’t help,’ Harry admitted. ‘I wanted him to be proud of me for being a Prefect, instead I guess I’m seen as worse than the likes of bullies.’

‘Now that isn’t true,’ his godfather said seriously. ‘You are a good kid Harry, with a kind heart. And me and Remus are already unbelievably proud of all that you have achieved. He only said what he did to get the twins to stop teasing Ron, and build Ron’s confidence.’

‘You-you’re proud of me?’ Harry asked surprise. ‘But I get detentions, and don’t get as good grades as Theodore. I’m a failure.’

Sirius looked at Harry very concerned, he put an arm around Harry.

‘Harry, I want you to listen to me right now. You are not a failure nor do me and Remus think you are. I guarantee you I got four times the detentions you’ve had, James probably had even more but neither of us were failures. You might not get the grades Theo does, but the grades you do get are far above average, you put in the work and it shows. Finally, and this is important Harry, you are one of the kindest wizards I know, you don’t let something you think is wrong go, you show compassion and fight for what you think is right. So don’t ever think me and Remus aren’t proud of you, because we are infinitely proud of you, and you don’t need a tacky badge for that to be true.’

‘Thanks Sirius,’ Harry said quietly, and he meant it.

At this point Harry heard Ron’s footsteps on the stairs again. Sirius stood up.

‘I’m going to go now, just be kind to Ron, ok?’

‘I will,’ said Harry.

CRACK

He stood up, straightened his glasses, and hitched a grin onto his face as Ron bounded back through the door.

‘Just caught her!’ he said happily. ‘She says she’ll get the Cleansweep if she can.’

‘Cool,’ Harry said, and he was relieved to hear that his voice had stopped sounding hearty. ‘Listen—Ron—well done, mate.’

The smile faded on Ron’s face faded slightly.

‘I never thought it would be me!’ he said, shaking his head, ‘I thought it would be Dean Thomas. I also thought I’d be you who got picked as Slytherin’s Prefect.

‘Nah, I’ve caused too much trouble,’ Harry said, echoing Fred.

‘Yeah,’ said Ron, ‘yeah, I suppose...Well, we’d better get our trunks packed, hadn’t we?’

Soon a much calmer Theodore came up to join them in packing. It was odd how widely their possessions seemed to have scattered themselves since they had arrived. It took them most of the afternoon to retrieve their books and belongings from all over the house and stow them back inside their school trunks. Harry noticed that Ron kept moving his prefect’s badge around, first placing it on his bedside table, then putting it into his jeans pocket, then taking it out and laying it on his folded robes, as though to see the effect of the red on the black. Only when Fred and George dropped in and offered to attach it to his forehead with a Permanent Sticking Charm did he wrap it tenderly in his maroon socks and lock it in his trunk.

Mrs Weasley returned from Diagon Alley around six o’clock, laden with books and carrying a long package wrapped in thick brown paper that Ron took from her with a moan of longing.

'Never mind unwrapping it now, people are arriving for dinner, I want you all downstairs,' she said, but the moment she was out of sight Ron ripped off the paper in a frenzy and examined every inch of his new broom, an ecstatic expression on his face.

Down in the basement Mrs Weasley had hung a scarlet banner over the heavily laden dinner table, which read congratulations Ron—new prefect. She looked in a better mood than Harry had seen her all holiday.

'I thought we’d have a little party, not a sit-down dinner,' she told Harry, Theodore, Canini, Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny as they entered the room. 'Your father and Bill are on their way, Ron, I’ve sent them both owls and they’re thrilled,' she added, beaming.

Fred rolled his eyes.

Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt were already there and Mad-Eye Moody stumped in shortly after Harry had got himself a butterbeer.

'Oh, Alastor, I am glad you’re here,' said Mrs Weasley brightly, as Mad-Eye shrugged off his traveling cloak. 'We’ve been wanting to ask you for ages—could you have a look in the writing desk in the drawing room and tell us what’s inside it? We haven’t wanted to open it just in case it’s something really nasty.'

'No problem, Molly...'

Moody’s electric-blue eye swiveled upward and stared fixedly through the ceiling of the kitchen.

'Drawing room...' he growled, as the pupil contracted. 'Desk in the corner? Yeah, I see it...Yeah, it’s a boggart...Want me to go up and get rid of it, Molly?'

'No, no, me or Remus will take care of it later,' beamed Mrs Weasley. 'You have your drink. We’re having a little bit of a celebration, actually...' She gestured at the scarlet banner. 'Fourth prefect in the family!' she said fondly, ruffling Ron’s hair.

'Prefect, eh?' growled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and his magical eye swiveling around to gaze into the side of his head. Harry had the very uncomfortable feeling it was looking at him and moved away toward Sirius and Remus.

'Well, congratulations,' said Moody, still glaring at Ron with his normal eye, 'authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn’t have appointed you...'

Ron looked rather startled at this view of the matter but was saved the trouble of responding by the arrival of his father and eldest brother. Mrs Weasley was in such a good mood she did not even complain that they had brought Mundungus with them too; he was wearing a long overcoat that seemed oddly lumpy in unlikely places and declined the offer to remove it and put it with Moody’s traveling cloak.

'Well, I think a toast is in order,' said Mr Weasley, when everyone had a drink. He raised his goblet. 'To my son Ron, the new Gryffindor prefect!'

Ron beamed as everyone drank to him and then applauded.

'Sometimes I wish I had been made Prefect when I was in school,' said Tonks brightly from behind Harry as everybody moved toward the table to help themselves to food. Her hair was tomato-red and waist length today; she looked like Ginny’s older sister. 'My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities.'

'Like what?' said Ginny, who was choosing a baked potato.

'Like the ability to behave myself,' said Tonks.

Ginny laughed; Canini though had heard this story many times before and just drank some butterbeer.

'What about you, Sirius?' Ginny asked.

Sirius, who was right beside Harry, let out his usual barklike laugh. Harry had to resist the urge to laugh himself as Sirius would have made a horrible Prefect.

'No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Remus was the good boy, he got the badge.'

'I think Dumbledore might have hoped that I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends,' said Remus. 'I need scarcely say that I failed dismally.'

Harry’s mood suddenly lifted. His parents laughing and telling stories. All at once the party seemed much more enjoyable; he loaded up his plate, feeling unusually fond of everyone in the room.

Ron was rhapsodizing about his new broom to anybody who would listen.

'...naught to seventy in ten seconds, not bad, is it? When you think the Comet Two Ninety’s only naught to sixty and that’s with a decent tailwind according to Which Broomstick?'

Tonks was once again telling hilarious tales to Ginny and Canini.

'I was so clumsy at flying that in a single lesson I crashed into the Owlery, the Astronomy Tower, the Whomping Willow, and Hagrid's garden, and that wasn't even my record.'

Theodore was talking very earnestly to Remus about Defense Against the Dark Arts.

'I wish you could come back this year, you are so far the only teacher we've had that didn't purposely attack us.'

'Well, despite Dumbledore's protests Hogwarts has a rule against hiring known werewolves so for now you'll have to make do with whomever got the position this year.'

Mrs Weasley and Bill were having their usual argument about Bill’s hair.

'...getting really out of hand, and you’re so good-looking, it would look much better shorter, wouldn’t it, Harry?'

'Oh—I dunno—' said Harry, slightly alarmed at being asked his opinion; he slid away from them in the direction of Fred and George, who were huddled in a corner with Mundungus.

Mundungus stopped talking when he saw Harry, but Fred winked and beckoned Harry closer.

'It’s okay,' he told Mundungus, 'we can trust Harry, he’s our financial backer.'

'Look what Dung’s gotten us,' said George, holding out his hand to Harry. It was full of what looked like shriveled black pods. A faint rattling noise was coming from them, even though they were completely stationary.

'Venomous Tentacula seeds,' said George. 'We need them for the Skiving Snackboxes but they’re a Class C Non-Tradeable Substance so we’ve been having a bit of trouble getting hold of them.'

'Ten Galleons the lot, then, Dung?' said Fred.

'Wiv all the trouble I went to to get ’em?' said Mundungus, his saggy, bloodshot eyes stretching even wider. 'I’m sorry, lads, but I’m not taking a Knut under twenty.'

'Dung likes his little joke,' Fred said to Harry.

'Yeah, his best one so far has been six Sickles for a bag of knarl quills,' said George.

'Be careful,' Harry warned them quietly.

'What?' said Fred. 'Mum’s busy cooing over Prefect Ron, we’re okay.'

'But Moody could have his eye on you,' Harry pointed out.

Mundungus looked nervously over his shoulder.

'Good point, that,' he grunted. 'All right, lads, ten it is, if you’ll take ’em quick.'

'Cheers, Harry!' said Fred delightedly, when Mundungus had emptied his pockets into the twins’ outstretched hands and scuttled off toward the food. 'We’d better get these upstairs...'

Harry watched them go, feeling slightly uneasy. It had just occurred to him that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would want to know how Fred and George were financing their joke shop business when, as was inevitable, they finally found out about it. Giving the twins most of his Triwizard winnings had seemed a simple thing to do at the time, but what if it led to another family row and a Percy-like estrangement? Would Mrs Weasley still be warm and welcoming to Harry if she found out he had made it possible for Fred and George to start a career she thought quite unsuitable?

Standing where the twins had left him with nothing but a guilty weight in the pit of his stomach for company, Harry caught the sound of his own name. Kingsley Shacklebolt’s deep voice was audible even over the surrounding chatter.

'...why Dumbledore didn’t make Potter a prefect?' said Kingsley.

'Bit of a sore subject today, but I'm sure he’ll have had his reasons,' replied Remus.

'But it would’ve shown confidence in him. It’s what I’d’ve done,' persisted Kingsley, '’specially with the Daily Prophet having a go at him every few days...'

Harry did not look around; he did not want Remus or Kingsley to know he had heard. He followed Mundungus back toward the table, though not remotely hungry. His pleasure in the party had evaporated as quickly as it had come; he wished he were upstairs in bed.

Mad-Eye Moody was sniffing at a chicken leg with what remained of his nose; evidently he could not detect any trace of poison, because he then tore a strip off it with his teeth.

'...the handle’s made of Spanish oak with anti-jinx varnish and in-built vibration control—' Ron was saying to Tonks.

Mrs Weasley yawned widely.

'Well, I think I’ll sort out that boggart before I turn in...Arthur, I don’t want this lot up too late, all right? ’Night, Harry, dear.'

She left the kitchen. Harry set down his plate and wondered whether he could follow her without attracting attention.

'You all right, Potter?' grunted Moody.

'Yeah, fine,' lied Harry.

Moody took a swig from his hip flask, his electric blue eye staring sideways at Harry.

'Come here, I’ve got something that might interest you,' he said. From an inner pocket of his robes Moody pulled a very tattered old Wizarding photograph.

'Original Order of the Phoenix,' growled Moody. 'Found it last night when I was looking for my spare Invisibility Cloak, seeing as Podmore hasn’t had the manners to return my best one...Thought people might like to see it.'

Harry took the photograph. A small crowd of people, some waving at him, others lifting their glasses, looked back up at him.

'There’s me,' said Moody unnecessarily, pointing at himself. The Moody in the picture was unmistakable, though his hair was slightly less gray and his nose was intact. 'And there’s Dumbledore beside me, Dedalus Diggle on the other side...That’s Marlene McKinnon, she was killed two weeks after this was taken, they got her whole family. That’s Frank and Alice Longbottom—'

Harry’s stomach, already uncomfortable, clenched as he looked at Alice Longbottom; he knew her round, friendly face very well, from both photos he had seen at the Longbottom house, and from the resemblance of her son, Neville.

'Poor devils,' growled Moody. 'Better dead than what happened to them...and that’s Emmeline Vance, you’ve met her, and that there’s Lupin, obviously...Benjy Fenwick, he copped it too, we only ever found bits of him...shift aside there,' he added, poking the picture, and the little photographic people edged sideways, so that those who were partially obscured could move to the front.

'That’s Edgar Bones...they got him and his family too as you know, he was a great wizard, poor Amelia and her niece barely survived...Sturgis Podmore, blimey, he looks young...Caradoc Dearborn, vanished six months after this, we never found his body...Hagrid, of course, looks exactly the same as ever...Elphias Doge, you’ve met him, I’d forgotten he used to wear that stupid hat...Gideon Prewett, it took five Death Eaters to kill him and his brother Fabian, they fought like heroes...budge along, budge along...'

The little people in the photograph jostled among themselves, and those hidden right at the back appeared at the forefront of the picture.

'That’s Dumbledore’s brother, Aberforth, only time I ever met him, strange bloke...That’s Dorcas Meadowes, Voldemort killed her personally...Sirius, when he still had short hair and was clean-shaven...and...there you go, thought that would interest you!'

Harry’s heart turned over. His mother and father were beaming up at him, sitting on either side of a small, watery-eyed man Harry recognized at once as Wormtail: He was the one who had betrayed their whereabouts to Voldemort and so helped bring about their deaths.

'Eh?' said Moody.

Harry looked up into Moody’s heavily scarred and pitted face. Evidently Moody was under the impression he had just given Harry a bit of a treat.

'Yeah,' said Harry, attempting to grin again. 'Er...listen, I’ve just remembered, I haven’t packed my...'

He was spared the trouble of inventing an object he had not packed; Sirius had just said, 'What’s that you’ve got there, Mad-Eye?' and Moody had turned toward him. Harry crossed the kitchen, slipped through the door and up the stairs before anyone could call him back.

He did not know why he had received such a shock; he had seen his parents’ pictures before, after all, and he had met Wormtail...but to have them sprung on him like that, when he was least expecting it...No one would like that, he thought angrily...

And then, to see them surrounded by all those other happy faces...Benjy Fenwick, who had been found in bits, and Gideon Prewett, who had died like a hero, and the Longbottoms, who had been tortured into madness...all waving happily out of the photograph forevermore, not knowing that they were doomed...Well, Moody might find that interesting...he, Harry, found it disturbing...

Harry tiptoed up the stairs in the hall past the stuffed elf heads, glad to be on his own again, but as he approached the first landing he heard noises. Someone was sobbing in the drawing room.

'Hello?' Harry said.

There was no answer but the sobbing continued. He climbed the remaining stairs two at a time, walked across the landing, and opened the drawing-room door.

Someone was cowering against the dark wall, her wand in her hand, her whole body shaking with sobs. Sprawled on the dusty old carpet in a patch of moonlight, clearly dead, was Ron.

All the air seemed to vanish from Harry’s lungs; he felt as though he were falling through the floor; his brain turned icy cold—Ron dead, no, it couldn’t be—But wait a moment, it couldn’t be—Ron was downstairs—'Mrs Weasley?' Harry croaked.

'R-r-riddikulus!’' Mrs Weasley sobbed, pointing her shaking wand at Ron’s body.

Crack.

Ron’s body turned into Bill’s, spread-eagled on his back, his eyes wide open and empty. Mrs Weasley sobbed harder than ever.

'R-riddikulus!' she sobbed again.

Crack.

Mr Weasley’s body replaced Bill’s, his glasses askew, a trickle of blood running down his face.

'No!' Mrs Weasley moaned. 'No...riddikulus! Riddikulus! RIDDIKULUS!'

Crack. Dead twins. Crack. Dead Percy. Crack. Dead Ginny...

'Mrs Weasley, just get out of here!” shouted Harry, staring down at one of his closets friends dead body on the floor. 'Let someone else—'

'What’s going on?'

Remus had come running into the room, closely followed by Sirius, with Moody stumping along behind them. Remus looked from Mrs Weasley to the dead Ginny on the floor and seemed to understand in an instant. Pulling out his own wand he said, very firmly and clearly, 'Riddikulus!'

Ginny’s body vanished. A silvery orb hung in the air over the spot where it had lain. Remus waved his wand once more and the orb vanished in a puff of smoke.

'Oh—oh—oh!' gulped Mrs Weasley, and she broke into a storm of crying, her face in her hands.

'Molly,' said Remus bleakly, walking over to her, 'Molly, don’t...' Next second she was sobbing her heart out on Remus’s shoulder. 'Molly, it was just a boggart,' he said soothingly, patting her on the head. 'Just a stupid boggart...'

'I see them d-d-dead all the time!' Mrs Weasley moaned into his shoulder. 'All the t-t-time! I d-d-dream about it...'

Sirius was staring at Harry, who was still pale as a ghost from seeing his oldest friends all dead. Moody was looking at Harry, who avoided his gaze. He had a funny feeling Moody’s magical eye had followed him all the way out of the kitchen.

'D-d-don’t tell Arthur,' Mrs Weasley was gulping now, mopping her eyes frantically with her cuffs. 'I d-d-don’t want him to know...Being silly...'

Remus handed her a handkerchief and she blew her nose.

'Harry, I’m so sorry, what must you think of me?' she said shakily. 'Not even able to get rid of a boggart...'

'D-d-don’t be stupid,' said Harry, trying to smile.

'I’m just s-s-so worried,' she said, tears spilling out of her eyes again. 'Half the f-f-family’s in the Order, it’ll b-b-be a miracle if we all come through this...and P-P-Percy’s not talking to us...What if something d-d-dreadful happens and we had never m-m-made up? And what’s going to happen if Arthur and I get killed, who’s g-g-going to look after Ron and Ginny?'

'Molly, that’s enough,' said Remus firmly. 'This isn’t like last time. The Order is better prepared, we’ve got a head start, we know what Voldemort’s up to—'

Mrs Weasley gave a little squeak of fright at the sound of the name.

'Oh, Molly, come on, it’s about time you got used to hearing it—look, I can’t promise no one’s going to get hurt, nobody can promise that, but we’re much better off than we were last time, you weren’t in the Order then, you don’t understand, last time we were outnumbered twenty to one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off one by one...'

Harry thought of the photograph again, of his parents’ beaming faces. He knew Moody was still watching him.

'Don’t worry about Percy,' said Sirius abruptly. 'He’ll come round. It’s a matter of time before Voldemort moves into the open; once he does, the whole Ministry’s going to be begging us to forgive them. And I’m not sure we'll manage to accept their apology,' he added bitterly.

'And as for who’s going to look after Ron and Ginny if you and Arthur died,' said Remus, smiling slightly, 'what do you think we’d do, let them starve?'

Mrs Weasley smiled tremulously.

'Being silly,' she muttered again, mopping her eyes.

But Harry, closing his bedroom door behind him some ten minutes later, could not think Mrs Weasley silly. He could still see his parents beaming up at him from the tattered old photograph, unaware that their lives, like so many of those around them, were drawing to a close. The image of the boggart posing as the corpse of each member of Mrs Weasley’s family in turn kept flashing before his eyes.

Without warning, the scar on his forehead seared with pain again and his stomach churned horribly.

'Cut it out,' he said firmly, rubbing the scar as the pain receded again.

'First sign of madness, talking to your own head,' said a sly voice from the empty picture on the wall.

Harry ignored it. He felt older than he had ever felt in his life, and it seemed extraordinary to him that barely an hour ago he had been worried about a joke shop and who had gotten a prefect’s badge.