Harry Potter and the Mistress of the Clow

8. Birthday at the Burrow

Upon arriving at the Burrow, Harry was greeted by a thunderous shout of "Happy Birthday!". He blinked as he steadied himself, and saw most of the Weasley clan gathered around--Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Ron, the twins Fred and George, and Bill, who had been spending quite a bit of time close to home since the Triwizard Tournament.

He grinned sheepishly. "Hi everyone."

The Weasleys noticed Cho a moment later. "Ah, you really did go to see him, then," Ron said with a grin.

Cho laughed. "You should've told me you were planning this."

The twins chuckled. "We didn't know we were planning it ourselves," Fred said. "Dobby just showed up and said he'd be bringing Harry today..."

"Dobby is putting Harry Potter's things upstairs for him, then Dobby is bringing Harry Potter his present!" The house-elf promptly vanished with Harry's luggage and Hedwig's cage.

"Well, come on, sit down then," Mrs. Weasley gestured to the table in the center of the garden, laden already with presents and a large, delicious-looking cake. The Weasleys sat down, making sure to leave two seats next to one another open for their guests, and Harry and Cho joined them.

"Nice glasses, Harry," Ron commented. "About time you got a decent pair."

Harry smiled. "Thanks. Cho just gave them to me for my birthday." He blushed slightly.

A moment later, Dobby reappeared. "Here is Harry Potter's present, sir!" he squeaked, handing Harry a sparkly bag. Harry opened it and withdrew a shimmery scarlet sweater, coated with twinkling glitter. A tiny Golden Snitch sewn onto the breast fluttered, then darted around to the backside. "Made it myself, sir!" the elf smiled.

Harry blinked. "Thanks, Dobby," he said. "I like it. I'll try it on in a bit."

Dobby smiled and bowed. "Dobby is glad Harry Potter likes his present! Dobby must go now...Dobby will see Harry Potter at Hogwarts!" With a crack, Dobby vanished.

"Well, it'll go great with the socks he gave you last Christmas," Ron observed.

Harry laughed, put the sweater back in its bag, and set it aside.

Mrs. Weasley pulled out her wand and lit the candles on the cake. "Alright then," she said after a rousing (if discordant) chorus of 'Happy Birthday To You'. "Give us a wish."

Harry smiled, closed his eyes, and blew out the candles. He glanced around the table, and as his eyes fell on Cho, he blushed slightly. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he blushed more deeply.

"That'll have been some wish," George commented.

Once everyone had had their fill of cake, Harry opened the rest of his presents. Hermione had sent him a book on the magic of the Aborigines, with apologies for not being there for the party; Ron had given him a stack of Famous Wizard cards, while the twins had given him a parcel full of some of their latest inventions (Mrs. Weasley had frowned a bit at that, but didn't seem keen on making a fuss). Mister and Mrs. Weasley gave him a very practical gift: a leather wand case, with a jar of Ollivander's wand polish and two cleaning cloths. Bill gave him an Egyptian amulet to detect seals, charms, and magical traps; Charlie had sent a card with pictures of a cluster of young Hungarian Horntails, the hatchlings Harry had last seen in their mother's nest during the first Triwizard task. Percy had merely given him a polite, if somewhat stiff, card, and a package from Hagrid contained, to Harry's amazement, a set of beautiful, deep green leather gloves and boots.

"Wow...wonder where he got those?" Ron asked.

Harry read the note aloud:

Harry,
Hope you like these. They're basilisk skin--the very basilisk you
killed in the Chamber of Secrets. Couldn't see wasting a great ruddy
snakeskin like that, so I figured I'd have it made into something
for you. Since you killed the thing and all. Sorry it took so
long to make them, but I had the tanner put a lot of special
enchantments on them, and it takes a while to enchant basilisk skin. For one, they'll stretch magically, so you won't outgrow them,
and they're also resistant to just about any acid or potion you
could spill on them.
See you at Hogwarts. Have a happy one.

Hagrid

"Whoa," Ron said, gaping.

Harry grinned. "I'd wondered what they did with that thing. I figured they'd probably left it to rot..." He picked up the gloves and pulled them on. "Nice fit..." He frowned down at his feet. "I'd try the boots on, but with these horrible jeans..."

Mrs. Weasley pulled out her wand. "Oh, we can fix that, dear. Stand up, go on."

Harry stood, and Mrs. Weasley waved her wand at him. The baggy sweater and jeans he wore began to shrink, soon fitting him perfectly. He smiled at Mrs. Weasley, then bent down to remove his battered trainers. He slid his feet into the boots, and found that, as Hagrid had promised, they fit snugly, seeming to pinch ever so slightly before adjusting and becoming comfortable. "I could get used to these," he grinned.

"Just don't get any funny ideas about making a habit of killing dangerous monsters for their skins," Mrs. Weasley said. Everyone laughed.

Bill looked at Harry, and smiled. "I've got some jeans and some leather trousers I've filled out a bit much for. I'll remember to send them to you for Christmas. They'll go well with those boots." Harry looked a bit flustered at the prospect of parading around in leather trousers, but thanked Bill all the same.

Ginny gave him her present last. It was a new quill with a gold nib, a beautiful scarlet plume, and a tiny pin tacked through the base of the feather monogrammed with his initials. He smiled at her. "Thanks Gin, it's lovely."

Ginny turned crimson, mumbled something, and fell silent. Harry frowned slightly; she'd been more quiet than usual since he arrived. He idly wondered if Cho's presence was upsetting her.

They all sat and chatted about various things for a while, before Mrs. Weasley got up to start dinner. As she passed by Harry, she leaned close and whispered, "Sirius said to tell you he'll be by in a day or so to visit, and not to worry about him." She then bustled off, as Ron suggested they get up to a game of Quidditch.

Harry grinned. "Sounds good to me, it's been far too long since I had a practice. What d'you reckon, Cho?"

Cho smiled. "Mind waiting for me to go home, get my broom, and change? I don't fancy playing in this outfit."

"Oh, I dunno, Cho," Fred said loftily. "I reckon it'd be quite a sight, you up in the air in that skirt--"

Ginny rammed an elbow into his gut, even as George chuckled and Cho flushed crimson.

"You'll pay for that one," the Asian girl said, sticking her tongue out and laughing as she got up to leave.

* * * * * *

Around the globe from the Burrow, a Japanese family was just preparing to turn in for the evening, when a soft tapping sound drew their attention.

"What's that?" Touya Kinomoto, a tall, lanky, handsome young man asked, as he opened the kitchen window. A barn owl swooped into the room, landed on the table, and deposited a thick, yellow parchment envelope. The boy blinked at the owl as it flew off into the night.

Fujitaka leaned around the doorjamb. "Something wrong, Touya?"

"An owl just flew through the window, and dropped a letter."

Fujitaka's eyes widened. "So that's what he meant..." He headed for the table, and examined the enveloped. The front was addressed in crisp, perfect Japanese, written in emerald green ink:

KINOMOTO Sakura
The third upstairs bedroom
4-1 Asabana 3-chome
Tomoeda
Japan

"Sakura!" he called as he sat down at the table, turning the envelope over and over in his hands.

The young girl appeared a moment later. "Yes?" she asked, blinking sleepily. She was already in her pajamas, and Cerberus (who had no need to pretend to be a stuffed toy anymore) floated nearby.

"You've got a letter," Fujitaka said. "From that wizard school, I believe."

Sakura's eyes widened, even as Cerberus became excited. "Sakura-chan going to Hogwarts...I'm so proud!" the diminutive magical beast said.

Fujitaka eyed Cerberus warily. "I'm still not entirely sure about this. This whole wizard school thing...it seems risky. And if she goes, what will she be able to do afterwards?"

"Anything she wants!" Cerberus replied confidently. "Sakura-chan is a very powerful witch! There's nothing she won't be able to do after Hogwarts! Especially since she has the Clow!"

"Hmm. Well...we'll discuss it in the morning," Fujitaka decided. "Go on up to bed, everyone."

* * * * * *

"Lucky dog," George grinned, ruffling Harry's hair.

"Gerroff," Harry grumbled. He wondered if his face would ever be any colour other than red again.

"Not going to give us up to Ravenclaw on the pitch, now, are you?" Fred asked with a sly smile.

"Of course not!" Harry retorted.

"But blimey, Harry," Bill grinned, unable to resist having his say, "she's a real looker, that one. A gel like that doesn't come along every day."

"You can say that again," Harry said, a dreamy look crossing his face. As the Weasleys chuckled, he shook it off. "But...we're not...I mean..."

"Oh, come off it," Ron said, grinning. "It's obvious, isn't it?"

Harry endured a few more minutes of teasing, and was grateful when Cho returned. She'd changed into a blue strappy top, grey denim shorts, and flat black slip-on shoes. A sports bag was slung over her shoulder, and she had her Comet Two-Sixty in hand. "What's wrong, Harry?" she asked as she caught sight of his red face.

"Oh, nothing!" he replied, trying not to blush harder as he looked at her, as her new top was rather low-cut.

She eyed him skeptically, then shrugged. "I brought my set of practice balls from home, if you guys don't mind. They're enchanted so they won't go too far from the box...less chance of the Muggles seeing them."

"Hey, great!" Fred called. "We usually just toss a few apples around."

Cho grinned, then reached into her bag, pulled out a box which she passed to Bill, then pulled a pair of fingerless black leather gloves out and tugged them on. "So, three on three?"

* * * * * *

"It's disgusting!" Ginny complained as she bustled about the kitchen with her mother. "She's a witch, she should dress like witch! Not like...like...!"

Molly Weasley sighed. "And you lot don't wear Muggle clothes during the summer at all, I suppose."

"Well...! But...she's...half-naked!" Ginny protested. "You saw how she was dressed! Don't you think it's a bit shameful?"

The plump, older woman raised an eyebrow. "Which part, the being half-naked, or the being half-naked in front of Harry?"

Ginny winced.

"I thought you were over that, dear, honestly. Besides, she was willing to brave those horrible Muggles to see him on his birthday. If she didn't care for him, she wouldn't have gone to that sort of trouble."

"Well...I guess..." Ginny frowned. "But does she have to dress like that?"

Molly laughed, tousling her daughter's hair. "I reckon it's easier to play Quidditch in. Now, come along, we've got a lot of hungry mouths to feed..."

* * * * * *

The remainder of the day had been quite high-spirited and fun, and easily one of the best birthdays Harry had ever had. After the group tired of Quidditch for the day, they sat talking; Ron asked Harry and Cho a lot of questions about the Muggle ball, while the twins retreated upstairs to check on a few of their projects (loud bangs shook the Burrow for a solid hour), and Bill had Apparated back to Egypt when an owl arrived for him; he apologised for cutting short his visit, but some foolish Muggle thieves had apparently set off a particularly nasty curse, and turned loose some horrible undead thing; Egypt's magical government had asked Gringotts to take care of it. "Do be careful, dear," Mrs. Weasley had advised. "Undead creatures...nasty business, those."

Mister Weasley and Percy had arrived home in time for dinner, and they all sat around talking about various things. Harry noticed that Ginny kept scowling at Cho; apparently, Cho noticed too, because she looked a bit disturbed by the negative attention.

After dinner, Harry had told the Weasleys he was going to stretch out in the garden and watch the sunset. Cho joined him, and he couldn't help but flush a bit as she lay beside him on the grass, stretching and cracking a loud yawn.

"Tired?" he asked.

Cho smiled. "A little." They lay in silence for a bit, listening to the frogs croak in the pond and the scuffling of tiny feet coming from the gnome-holes in the garden, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon.

After a while, Harry turned slightly and said, "Thanks, Cho."

She blinked, and smiled. "For the glasses? You already thanked me--"

"Not for that, for..." He blushed. "For being here today. It means a lot to me."

Cho flushed slightly. "I..."

The two of them fell silent for a bit. Much as earlier in the day, Harry felt himself leaning closer to Cho, as if to...

...but that wouldn't be right, would it...?

...would she want him to?

...looks like she does...

...but...

...oh, just DO it already...

And closer he was, now, and she was looking at him, and her eyes were half-closed, and she was moving closer too, and...

A loud bark echoed around the garden as an enormous black dog shot through the hedges on the edge of the garden, alarming several gnomes. Cho shot straight up, and Harry slowly rose to a sitting position, half embarrassed, half annoyed. Then he saw what had interrupted the moment (were we having a moment? he wondered), and grinned.

"Snuffles!" he shouted.

The dog barked happily and trotted over to him, licking his face. Then, he glanced at Cho, then back at Harry, and tilted his head inquisitively.

"This is Cho, Snuffles."

Cho laughed. "Hi, Snuffles." She blinked. "You know, this dog looks awfully familiar..." She then glanced at her watch. "Oh no! I need to get home, Harry, my mum's probably worried sick."

Harry felt disappointed, but he nodded. "Alright. I'll see you off. Come along, Snuffles."

Nobody was in sight as they walked into the kitchen. Cho smiled. "I'll see you later, okay? Now that you're here, I can come over any time..."

Harry smiled back at her. "I'd like that. I mean, if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind," Cho grinned. She leaned up, and as she had done after the ball, gave him a kiss on the cheek, then drew a plastic Baggie out of her pocket, opened it, tossed a bit of powder into the fire. "Chang house," she said as she stepped into the flames and vanished.

As soon as she was gone, a rather amused voice called from behind Harry, "New girlfriend?"

Harry blushed, and turned to face his godfather, Sirius Black.

---

9. The Unexpected

Sirius was looking more fit than Harry had ever seen him; he'd finally gotten decent robes, deep indigo as opposed to the horrible tattered grey ones he'd worn since escaping Azkaban. He had a healthy colour about him, and had taken to caring properly for his hair. He hadn't shaved in a while, and had a scrubby, stubbly beard growing. It reminded Harry a bit of a man on a stupid American show Dudley liked to watch.

"All right, Harry?" Sirius asked.

"All right," Harry replied.

"Sorry I haven't been in contact much lately. Been a bit busy doing stuff for Dumbledore." The two of them left the kitchen for the living room and sank onto the comfortable sofa. Sirius reached into his pocket, and handed Harry a small, leather-bound book. "Happy birthday," he said.

Harry opened the book, and saw that it contained a number of photographs. Some, he'd already seen; photos of his parents' wedding, and later, with him as a baby. There were also pictures of his parents, as well as Sirius and Remus, as they had been in their Hogwarts days, surrounded by a number of people Harry didn't recognize. A few pictures showed his father, who looked exactly like him save for the eyes and scar, in Gryffindor Quidditch robes, riding a broom and passing the Quaffle back and forth with the other Chasers. Another picture of his mother, smiling impishly as she hugged the neck of a great stag. More photos of his parents and their friends in various places, magical and Muggle, all having a good time and enjoying life...

"You okay, Harry?" Sirius asked, and Harry realized with a start that he'd begun crying.

"I'm fine, Sirius," he said thickly. "I'm just--thank you. This means a lot to me."

Sirius smiled. "I knew you'd have some pictures of them already, but I thought you might like to have these too--some of the best times of our lives, those were." He raised an eyebrow at Harry. "I like the new glasses, by the way. Birthday present?"

Harry nodded. "From Cho." He blushed slightly.

Sirius grinned. "So, how long has this been going on?"

"Sirius!" Harry groaned. "We're not--I mean--"

Sirius chuckled. "James was good at getting the pretty ones too. And he always blushed when someone raised the subject, just like that."

Harry became even redder. "Well--that is, I'd like to be, really. I don't know how she feels...for all I know, she just wants to be friends."

"Really good friends, then, if that's the case," Sirius replied, waggling his eyebrows. "I saw you two nearly snogging out there. Sorry about breaking that up, by the way." The mischevious gleam in his eyes said he wasn't sorry at all, but Harry was too busy feeling embarrassed--and wondering if he'd really been about to snog Cho in the garden, and how she would have responded--to get upset about it.

"--just going to check on him, I'll be right up," they heard from the kitchen. Molly Weasley walked in, and started slightly at the sight of Sirius in the living room.

"Hullo, Molly," Sirius said with a wave.

"Sirius," the plump woman replied a bit nervously. Although she'd been told the whole story about Sirius, and knew he was innocent of the crime he'd been imprisoned for, she was still a bit edgy around the escaped convict. Recovering, she glanced around. "Did your lady friend leave already, Harry dear?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said.

"Alright then. I'll leave you two to talk...will you be staying the night then, Sirius?" she asked.

"I reckon so, but don't worry about me. I'll sleep in the garden," Sirius replied with a grin. Harry laughed, and Mrs. Weasley clucked her tongue.

"Really," she said. "Oh well, maybe having a bloody great mutt lying about will scare off the gnomes." Yawning, she bid the two goodnight, and headed off to bed.

As she left, Sirius grumbled, "Mutt? Who's a mutt?"

"You are," Harry said with a grin.

"Oh, alright then," Sirius replied. The two spent a while catching up, and it was past midnight before they finally turned in.

* * * * * *

Everyone slept in the next morning. The sun was already shining brightly down on the Burrow by the time Harry finally pulled himself out of bed. He pulled on his jeans and the new sweater from Dobby, and almost put on his new boots, before deciding to save those for the first day back to Hogwarts. After lacing up his trainers, he ambled downstairs to see if anyone was up.

He was surprised to see Hermione seated at the kitchen table, nose in a book as usual. "Hermione? When did you get here?" he asked.

The bushy-haired girl looked up, and smiled. "Hi Harry! Just a few minutes ago...came by Floo." She shuddered. "That's the last time I use Floo powder to make an intercontinental trip."

Harry blinked. "You mean you came here by Floo from Australia?"

Hermione nodded. "Mum and Dad are headed home today, and agreed to let me come visit for a bit. Mr. Weasley's working on getting the house hooked up to the Floo network so I can come and go as I please. My parents say they don't mind driving me about, but I can tell they're a bit relieved all the same." She cast an appraising eye at Harry's sweater. "Where on Earth did you get that?"

Harry laughed. "Birthday present from Dobby. A bit loud, isn't it?"

"Only just," Hermione said with a smile.

Ron shuffled into view then, still yawning. "Mornin' Harry, Hermione..." He blinked. "Hermione?"

"Good morning, Ron," she said.

Ron seemed about to ask something, thought better of it, and shook his head. "I haven't missed breakfast, have I?"

"Ready in a minute, dear!" Mrs. Weasley called. She rushed into the house carrying a basket of eggs and looking rather harassed. "The hens are of a temper this morning..."

"That'd be my fault, I expect," Sirius' voice called from the door to the living room. He grinned at everyone. "Gave 'em a bit of a scare last night."

The group spent a while chatting at the table as Mrs. Weasley cooked breakfast. Hermione and Ron wanted to know all about what Sirius had been up to, Ron and Harry wanted to know about Hermione's holiday in Australia, and Hermione wanted to know all about what Harry and Ron had done all summer. Harry endured a round of good-natured teasing from Ron and Sirius when the photos of him dancing with Cho were brought out; thankfully, Hermione just smiled and said it was nice that Harry was having a proper summer for once.

The year's Hogwarts letters arrived toward the end of breakfast. Harry noticed immediately that his was rather thicker than normal, and quite a bit heavier. "Hello," he muttered as he opened the envelope.

Hermione, across the table from him, had already spread the contents of her letter out before her, and smiled as she saw the gleaming silver badge included in her envelope. "Congratulations, dear," Mrs. Weasley said to her with a smile. "I had a feeling you'd make prefect."

Hermione turned as red as the Weasleys' hair.

"I wouldn't want to be prefect," Ron said, stuffing his face with a bacon and egg sandwich. "Bloody hassle, it is. You wouldn't want to be a prefect either, would you Harry?" When no answer was forthcoming, he turned to nudge his friend in the shoulder. "Oi, Harry! You wouldn't, would you?"

Harry looked slowly up at Ron, then around the table, then back down at his envelope, eyes unusually wide. His next words came out as a muted whisper. "I am."

He took the shining silver badge from his envelope and held it up for all to see.

Ron choked.

* * * * * *

The Dursleys had just finished a miserable orange, bran cereal, and tomato juice breakfast when the doorbell rang. Vernon Dursley opened the front door to discover two people he didn't recognise standing on the porch: a stocky man with dark red hair and sharp blue eyes wearing a charcoal suit, and a severe-looking black-haired woman in an emerald green blazer and skirt with square-rimmed spectacles and sensible shoes.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Mister Dursley?" the stocky man asked.

"Yes, that's right."

"Good mornin' t'ye. I'm Miles Houlihan, headmaster at Smeltin's. I believe we've spoken before?"

"Ah, yes, Mister Houlihan. Pleasure to meet you. Do come in, do come in."

A moment later, Vernon and Petunia were sitting with Miles Houlihan and the woman, to whom they had not been introduced. Dudley had been excused, to his relief, and was upstairs pretending not to listen.

"So, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?" Vernon asked.

Houlihan looked solemn. "Mister Dursley, I'm afraid t' say this isnae a social call. I'm here t' talk t'ye about Dudley an' his future at Smeltin's."

Vernon became slightly less cheerful. "Oh?"

"Mister Dursley, I'm sure ye know that we're all a bit...concerned about Dudley. His grades arenae so good, his discipline record is one o' th' worst we've seen in years, an' ye dunnae need t' be told again about his weight problem. Frankly, Mister Dursley, it's an embarassment t' th' school havin' a boy like Dudley enrolled."

Vernon felt his blood pressure rising. Any pretense of good cheer was long gone from his face, and his moustache twitched. "What, precisely, are you saying, Mister Houlihan?"

"I'm sayin', Mister Dursley, that yer boy's had his last chance at Smeltin's, an' blew it, an' I'm afraid I've nae choice but t' expel 'im."

The room was deathly quiet for a long while. Vernon and Petunia glanced at one another, then at Houlihan, then at the stern woman next to him.

"I see," Vernon rumbled.

"Unless."

This was from the bespectacled woman, and her voice was no less harsh than her appearance.

"Unless?" Vernon asked, schooling his expression so as not to appear too eager to grasp any lifeline offered him.

"Mister Dursley, allow me t' introduce ye...this is Professor Minerva McGonagall, from--"

The Dursleys' reaction to the name startled Houlihan. "YOU!" Vernon roared, face purpling, eyes hard as flints. "You're from that--that--FREAK SCHOOL!"

Professor McGonagall returned Vernon's furious stare with a calm, cool-as-ice gaze. "If you are referring to Hogwarts, Mister Dursley, then yes, I am."

"Ah, then ye already know about Hogwarts," Houlihan said, trying to restore order.

"Oh, we know about it alright," Petunia snapped. "What are you playing at, bringing one of THEM into our house?"

"This is an outrage! To think--"

"QUIET!" McGonagall roared. The Dursleys instantly went silent, eyes wide, faces white, and sat stiffly, watching the stern witch apprehensively. There was no sign of a wand, but after having paid a small fortune to remove a magically-grown pig tail from Dudley's backside a few years prior, they weren't taking any chances.

"Now then," Houlihan said once order had been restored, "As I was sayin'...as it stands now, Dudley's t'be expelled from Smeltin's. He's a disgrace, an' frankly, I dunnae think even a state school would take 'im. Not with his record.

"However, just recently, I was approached by Professor McGonagall here on behalf o' Headmaster Dumbledore o' Hogwarts. Came as a shock t'me t' find out there was a school o' magic right under our noses, but I'm an open-minded bloke.

"So, she comes in, an' tells me who she is an' where she's from, an' proves what she's sayin' is true, an' says her headmaster is openin' up an exchange program, as...well, I'll let her tell it."

"A hundred years ago," McGonagall began, "Hogwarts accepted a non-magical exchange student from one of the more established Muggle schools of the time. It's not a common practice, as our kind normally keep secluded from the Muggle world, but it's done from time to time in hopes of fostering understanding between Muggles and wizards.

"Professor Dumbledore has decided that it's time to revive the exchange, and asked me to recruit a student from Smeltings to attend Hogwarts."

Vernon's eyes narrowed. "I know where this is going, and I can tell you right now, the answer is no."

"Come now, Mister Dursley, surely ye can hear us out," Houlihan said.

"I'll not have Dudley at the mercy of THOSE people!" Vernon hissed.

"For your information, I'd much rather not have your son at Hogwarts either," McGonagall said harshly, "but my hands are tied. Professor Dumbledore himself is keen on taking the boy."

"Mister Dursley," Houlihan spoke up, "Let me explain yer situation t'ye. If ye can keep an open mind about all this, then it's just for a year, an' if th' report from Hogwarts' headmaster is favourable, next year we'll let Dudley back t' Smeltin's with a clean slate." He fixed Vernon with a piercing stare. "If, on th' other hand, ye'd see yer son kicked out o' school, ye're riskin' more than ye've t' gain. His records...well, there's not many schools that'd take 'im, an' I figger ye'd have th' divvil uvva time gettin' 'im in somewheres else." He paused. "Exceptin' maybe St. Brutus'..."

"And, of course, there are other considerations," McGonagall said. "Pray, Mister Dursley, exactly where did your nephew sleep for the first ten years he was in your care?"

Vernon turned a funny green colour.

"Nephew?" Houlihan asked, raising an eyebrow. "I dinnae know ye had a nephew, Dursley."

"Oh, they don't speak of him much, Mister Houlihan," McGonagall said. "Their nephew is a wizard, after all. He attends Hogwarts. In fact, he's to be a prefect this term."

"A prefect, y'say?" Houlihan chuckled. "Sounds like a boy t'be mighty proud of, Mister Dursley."

Vernon grumbled something unpleasant-sounding.

"I'm sorry, Mister Dursley. I dinnae quite catch that."

"If Dudley takes a year to spend...there...how's he supposed to catch up on normal lessons for the next year at Smeltings?"

"Ye neednae worry about that," Houlihan replied. "He's nae exactly learnin' anythin' as it is. Exceptin' how t' beat th' divvil out o' his schoolmates."

"And I suppose this...exchange program will come at a terrible expense," Vernon rumbled.

"I believe the fee for tuition, supplies, and incidentals worked out to half the yearly tuition at Smeltings, did it not, Miles?" McGonagall asked.

"About that, aye," Houlihan nodded.

Vernon sat stiffly, a rainbow of unusual colours clouding his face, a vein pulsing in his forehead. His moustache twitched horribly, and his beady eyes darted about the room as though seeking some escape from this predicament.

"We'll need time to think it over," he said at length.

Houlihan nodded. "Very well. We'll be back in three days for yer decision. Good day t'ye."

Houlihan and McGonagall left, and Vernon and Petunia Dursley sat in stony silence for a long time.

* * * * * *

"Congratulations, Harry!" Sirius said, thumping Harry on the back and grinning. "James would be proud."

"Yes, congratulations, dear," Mrs. Weasley said with a smile.

Harry stared at the silver badge, its large letter 'P' gleaming up at him. "But...me? I mean, a prefect? Me?" He shook his head. "This has to be a mistake. How d'you reckon I'm fit to be a prefect?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Really, I don't see what you're making a fuss about. True, you have a certain disregard for the rules, but..."

"Your father was Head Boy, Harry," Sirius said. "And you know the sort of mischief he got up to. I reckon your professors can spot..." He trailed off, and glanced at Ron. "Well, it can't always be easy to choose, among talented students."

Ron noticed the way Sirius, Harry, and Hermione were looking at him, and laughed. "What, do I have something on my nose? Congratulations, Harry. Better you than me...or Neville. Can you see Neville as a prefect?"

They all had a laugh at that; Neville Longbottom was rather infamous for his terrible memory and poor magical ability. For the rest of the day, however, Harry and Hermione made it a point not to mention anything concerning prefects to Ron; after the way he had reacted to Harry's being chosen as a Hogwarts champion in the previous year's Triwizard Tournament, neither were willing to bring about another term of Ron refusing to speak to Harry.

That night, as they prepared for sleep, Ron called from his blazingly orange bed, "Hey, Harry."

"Yeah?"

"I meant it when I said I'm happy for you, being a prefect. I'm not stupid enough to hold it against you. Not after last year. I've learned to live with the fact that you stand out and I don't."

Harry didn't answer for a moment. Then, he sat up in his camp bed, and said, "Ron...thanks. And you know, there's nothing all that special about me. I wouldn't be half the wizard I am without you and Hermione. My friends are worth more to me than a hundred prefect badges."

Ron's ears turned pink.