Lost Memories

xxiv. problems

Harry was cleared from using Underaged Magic. His trial was over and the entire house was overjoyed, mainly the twins and Ginny. Although I was glad Harry wasn't expelled from Hogwarts, I felt bad that Sirius would be alone. From the moment I arrived at twelve Grimmauld Place, I knew he enjoyed my company– any company beside Kreacher, the grumpy racist house-elf.

What I didn't look forward to were the fifth year—

"Booklists," Ron said, throwing one of the envelopes up to Harry, who was standing on a chair. "About time, I thought they'd forgotten, they usually come much earlier than this..."

Snatching the envelope from Ron's hand, I quickly looked at the front of the letter:

Miss C. Harring

12 Grimmauld Place

Borough of Islington

Holloway

My Official Hogwarts Letter. I almost cried on the spot.

Ripping the envelope open, I read the words on the page:

Dear Miss M. Harring,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Attached to the letter was a parchment full of books I would need for my fifth-year classes.

"Prefect?" I heard. Uh oh.

Looking up from my letter, I saw George leap forward and seize the envelope in Ron's hand and turn it upside down. Ron was pale as can be, sitting in a state of shock. A scarlet and gold object fell out of the envelope and into George's hands.

"No way," said George in a hushed voice.

"There's been a mistake," said Fred, snatching the letter out of Ron's grasp and holding it up to the light as though checking for a watermark. "No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect..."

"Don't be rude!" I stood up, defending Ron. "Just because you two weren't made prefects– for good reason– doesn't mean Ron isn't perfectly capable of being one."

Ron gave me a quick small smile as the twins' head turned in unison towards Harry.

"We thought you were a cert!" said Fred in a tone that suggested Harry had tricked them in some way.

"We thought Dumbledore was bound to pick you!" said George indignantly.

"Or you," Fred turned to me.

"Me?" I asked. "This is my second year at Hogwarts and I'm a Muggle. Why would I be chosen to be a Prefect?"

"You're smart," he dead planted.

"Regardless of that, I wouldn't want to be anyways. Ron and Hermione are perfectly capable to be prefects," I huffed.

"Hermione, too?" Harry asked.

"Prefect... ickle Ronnie the prefect ..."

"Oh, Mum's going to be revolting," groaned George, thrusting the prefect badge back at Ron as though it might contaminate him.