Purple Rain.

Chapter Twenty-Eight.

"Guess what I found in the back of my wardrobe?" (Y/n) asked, joining Ron, Hermione, and Harry by the fireplace late that Sunday evening. Hermione hummed questioningly. "My old video camera that I thought was stolen."

"Neat," Harry said distractedly. He and Ron were deep in their homework and Hermione seemed far too transfixed on knitting to give (Y/n) much mind. (Y/n) lowered her camera into her lap before returning it to her bag altogether and silently starting the last of her homework— that being her star charts.
None of the group really acknowledged one another for the while, too concerned with their own work. (Y/n) was quite bitter over her friends' lack of interest, especially when she would drop everything just to hear about how great or bad of a day they had. By half-past eleven, Hermione had wandered back over to the group.

"Nearly done?" Hermione asked, yawning.

"No," said Ron shortly.

"Jupiter's biggest moon is Ganymede, not Callisto," Hermione said, pointing over Ron's shoulder at a line in his Astronomy essay, "and it's Io that's got the volcanos."

"Thanks," snarled Ron, scratching out the offending sentences.

"Sorry, I only—"

"Yeah, well, if you've just come over here to criticize—"

"Ron—"

"I haven't got time to listen to a sermon, all right, Hermione, I'm up to my neck in it here—"

"No— look!" Hermione was pointing to the nearest window. Harry and Ron both looked over. A handsome screech owl was standing on the windowsill, gazing into the room at Ron. "Isn't that Hermes?" said Hermione, sounding amazed.

"Blimey, it is!" said Ron quietly, throwing down his quill and getting to his feet. "What's Percy writing to me for?" He crossed to the window and opened it; Hermes flew inside, landed upon Ron's essay, and held out a leg to which a letter was attached. Ron took it off and the owl departed at once, leaving inky footprints across Ron's drawing of the moon Io.
"That's definitely Percy's handwriting," said Ron, sinking back into his chair and staring at the words on the outside of the scroll: To Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor House, Hogwarts. He looked up at the other three. "What d'you reckon?"

"Open it!" said Hermione eagerly.
Ron unrolled the scroll and began to read. The farther down the parchment his eyes travelled, the more pronounced became his scowl. When he had finished reading, he looked disgusted. He thrust the letter at Harry, Hermione, and the addition of (Y/n), all of whom leaned toward each other to read together:

Dear Ron,
I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minister of Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect.
I was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this news and must firstly offer my congratulations. I must admit that I have always been afraid that you would take what we might call the "Fred and George" route, rather than following in my footsteps, so you can imagine my feelings on hearing you have stopped flouting authority and have decided to shoulder some responsibility.
But I want to give you more than congratulations, Ron, I want to give you some advice, which is why I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morning post. Hopefully you will be able to read this away from prying eyes and avoid awkward questions.
From something the Minister let slip when telling me you are now a prefect, I gather that you are still seeing a lot of Harry Potter. I must tell you, Ron, that nothing could put you in danger of losing your badge more than continued fraternization with that boy. Yes, I am sure you are surprised to hear this— no doubt you will say that Potter has always been Dumbledore's favourite— but I feel bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at Hogwarts much longer and the people who count have a very different— and probably more accurate— view of Potter's behaviour. I shall say no more here, but if you look at the Daily Prophet tomorrow you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing— and if you can spot yours truly!
Seriously, Ron, you do not want to be tarred with the same brush as Potter, it could be very dangerous to your future prospects, and I am talking here about life after school too. As you must be aware, given that our father escorted him to court, Potter had a disciplinary hearing this summer in front of the whole Wizengamot and he did not come out of it looking too good. He got off on a mere technicality if you ask me and many of the people I've spoken to remain convinced of his guilt.
It may be that you are afraid to sever ties with Potter— I know that he can be unbalanced and, for all I know, violent— but if you have any worries about this, or have spotted anything else in Potter's behaviour that is troubling you, I urge you to speak to Dolores Umbridge, a really delightful woman, who I know will be only too happy to advise you.
This leads me to my other bit of advice. As I have hinted above, Dumbledore's regime at Hogwarts may soon be over. Your loyalty, Ron, should be not to him, but to the school and the Ministry. I am very sorry to hear that so far Profesor Umbridge is encountering very little cooperation from the staff as she strives to make those necessary changes within Hogwarts that the Ministry so ardently desires (although she should find this easier from next week— again, see the Prophet tomorrow!). I shall say only this— a student who shows himself willing to help Professor Umbridge may be very well placed for Head Boyship in a couple of years!
I am sorry that I was unable to see more of you over the summer. It pains me to criticize our parents, but I am afraid I can no longer live under their roof while they remain mixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore (if you are writing to Mother at any point, you might tell her that a certain Sturgis Podmore, who is a great friend of Dumbledore's, has recently been sent to Azkaban for trespass at the Ministry. Perhaps that will open their eyes to the kind of petty criminals with whom they are currently rubbing shoulders). I count myself very lucky to have escaped the stigma of association with such people— the Minister really could not be more gracious to me— and I do hope, Ron, that you will not allow family ties to blind you to the misguided nature of our parents' beliefs and actions either. I sincerely hope that, in time, they will realize how mistaken they were and I shall, of course, be ready to accept a full apology when that day comes.
Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about Harry Potter, and congratulations again on becoming prefect.