Shifting Perspectives

Chapter Seven

"As prefects, it is your duty to uphold the rules of Hogwarts. You will patrol the halls, enforce the rules, and help out the teachers when necessary," McGonagall said. "You will..."

Bored, Pansy tuned out McGonagall's voice. She had heard this all before, last year. There was nothing she couldn't afford to miss.

She wasn't the only one not paying any attention. Draco was locked in a glaring match with the older Weasley, Padma was filing her nails, and Adrian never paid attention. He thought that just because he was one of the most popular Slytherins that he could get away with anything. Unfortunately, Pansy reflected glumly, he probably can. He has enough friends to do his bidding. In fact, Granger and Macmillan were the only sixth year prefects even pretending to pay attention. The fifth year prefects actually seemed to be listening quite closely, as if McGonagall would actually have something important to say.

"Miss Parkinson!"

Pansy jumped. "Yes, Professor?" she asked, once she had regained her composure and the remains of her dignity.

"What did I just say?"

She glanced around for inspiration. No help from Draco; he hadn't been paying attention either. The Weasleys and the Hufflepuff were unlikely to assist a Slytherin, the Ravenclaws would enjoy knowing something she didn't, and she couldn't trust any of the other Slytherins. Pansy looked beseechingly at Granger, who seemed disapproving and shook her head firmly.

"I don't know, Professor."

"Why not?"

"I wasn't listening."

"Why weren't you listening?"

"I don't know."

"If you do not know why you are doing it, then perhaps you should stop," McGonagall said sternly.

"Yes, Professor."

"Now, does anyone know what I was just speaking about?"

Granger's hand shot up. "We were discussing ways to boost morale."

"Correct, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor. Does anyone have any ideas?"

"More Quidditch matches," Weasley said, his face lighting up at the thought.

"Oh, yes, Gryffindor morale will be greatly improved when Slytherin wins," Draco drawled.

"Don't be so sure," Weasley snarled. "We've beaten you before; we can do it again."

"Boys!" McGonagall said sharply. "You should be setting a good example for the younger students."

Draco and Weasley went back to glaring at each other. If looks could kill, Pansy thought, then Draco and Weasley ought to be smears on the floor by now.

"We could skip homework," suggested Creevy.

Granger looked horrified, but McGonagall intervened before Granger had the time to throw a fit. "We cannot drop homework, as it is an essential teaching tool."

"We could throw a ball," the younger Weasley proposed. What was her name again? Jenny?

"That's actually a good idea," Padma agreed. "The last ball was very enjoyable; at least the Beauxbatons boys were polite." She shot a significant look at Weasley, who looked entirely clueless. His sister, Pansy noted, was turning red enough for both of them.

"That would mean extra work for the house elves," Granger said, with what appeared to be genuine concern.

"Who cares?" Weasley said.

"Ron!" Granger exclaimed, aghast.

"Hermione, the house elves like work. You--"

"That's not true!" Granger said angrily. "It's only because they've been brainwashed -"

"Miss Granger! I expect better of you than to squabble in front of the younger prefects."

Granger blushed and apologized profusely. "I'm so sorry, Professor. I'll try to do better in the future."

"I hope so, Miss Granger. Now, a ball would be a great deal of work. The house elves cannot do everything, and the teachers are very busy. While we can assist, if we were to have a ball, most of the planning and decorating work would fall to the prefects, under the supervision of the Head Boy and Girl."

Chang cleared her throat, to the surprise of everyone. Despite being the Head Girl, she spoke rarely. At least she doesn't cry at prefect meetings. I am not in the mood to put up with it. "I'm sure we can handle it," she said, her voice soft but confident. "If everyone wants to do it, I don't see a reason why not."

"Very well then. We shall have a vote. If enough people want to have a ball, I will speak to Professor Dumbledore. All in favor?" Hands swung up into the air. Pansy counted them. There were ten people in favor. "That's a majority. Miss Chang, and Mr. Pucey," she added with a sharp look at Adrian, "I will leave things in your capable hands while I go talk to Dumbledore. Try and see if you can get any of the organization done."

Adrian stirred himself out of his reverie and offered a cocky smile. "Everything will be just fine, Professor." Somehow, Pansy didn't feel reassured.

McGonagall nodded stiffly and swept out.

"So," Adrian said, grinning, "what shall we do? We could always fill the Great Hall with jinxes to hex anyone who dances in the wrong spot...scare the hell out of the first years, I bet..."

"We are not filling the Great Hall with jinxes," Chang put in adamantly. "Don't be ridiculous." Adrian scowled fiercely at Chang. She ignored him. "Does anyone have any reasonable ideas for the ball?"

"I have the most perfect idea for a ball," Lovegood said, smiling dreamily. "We can have a hunt for Blibbering Humdingers."

Adrian was laughing scornfully, and not trying hard to hide it. "Blibbering Humdingers?" he gasped. "And you thought I was being ridiculous!"

"I don't think that Blibbering Humdingers would be appropriate," Chang said.

"Inappropriate? How so? Aside from the fact that they don't exist?" Granger muttered underneath her breath.

"They do too exist. Why, in the last edition of the Quibbler, we had three eyewitness reports--" Lovegood replied heatedly.

"Now is not the time and place to discuss this," Chang cut them off.

"Ooh, ooh, what about a masquerade ball? That would be so romantic," sighed Louisa, a fifth-year Slytherin prefect. Pansy rolled her eyes in exasperation at her younger counterpart. Across the room, Granger sniffed with disgust.

"You dress up in a disguise and meet your true love!" squealed a Hufflepuff.

Chang shook her head decisively. "There aren't any good costume places in Hogsmeade," she said, overriding all objections. "Since most people probably didn't bring dress robes, they will have to purchase them from Hogsmeade, which means they will have to settle for normal dress robes."

Who knew she was such a silly twit? Pansy thought, as Louisa pouted handsomely. "Oh, all right," Louisa conceded with ill grace. "I suppose we'll have to settle for a normal ball."

"You ought to consider yourself grateful that Professor McGonagall is even considering letting us have a ball at all," Chang replied. Businesslike, she continued briskly, "If no one else has an idea, then I suggest we model this dance after the Yule Ball. I would like everyone to brainstorm and try to come up with a couple ideas for the decorations and such. Does anyone have anything else to add? No? Then this meeting is adjourned. I'll wait and speak to Professor McGonagall when she returns, to see if Dumbledore has agreed."

"Wait a minute," objected Adrian, "why do you get to dismiss the meeting? I'm Head Boy! Don't I get to do anything?"

"You can dismiss the meeting if you want," Chang said with admirable self-restraint, "but I don't see why it would matter--"

"You are dismissed!" Adrian barked.

Pansy escaped gladly to the relative safety of the halls, away from Adrian and the prefect meeting.