12) Class Clown with a Frown 🤡☹️

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"Wish the lunch trolly would hurry up," Ron grumbled, sinking into his seat and rubbing his stomach dramatically. "Guess what, Harry. Malfoy's not doing prefect duty. He's just sitting in his compartment with the other Slytherins, we saw him when we passed."

Harry, who had been listening to Luna rattle off about Wrackspurts dutifully, perked up at Ron's comment at once. "What did he do when he saw you?"

"Nothing. I don't think he noticed us." Ron said. "Not like him though, is it? Why isn't he out there bullying first-years?"

"Dunno," Harry said, his eyes wide as his mind went whirring in a hundred different directions that I did not like at all.

"Maybe he preferred the Inquisitorial Squad," Hermione said. "Maybe being a prefect seems a bit tame after that."

"I don't think so. I think he's —"

Thankfully, we were saved from Harry going off on his whole Death Eater tangent by an annoyed looking second-year. Rosie Zeller, talented Hufflepuff Seeker and bane of my existence. The year before, I'd entrusted her with the bracelet Cedric had given me, expecting her to have the strength to carry on Hufflepuff's legacy of fun times. And I do trust her to do exactly that. It's just that she happens to be my biggest hater.

"I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, and the class clown with a frown. What's got you so down in the dumps, bitch-boy?"

It was entirely my fault she had a vocabulary like she did. Everyone had told me my actions would come back to bite me in the butt, I just expected it to be from pissing off a god, not teaching a twelve-year old to throw away her filter. I got as good as I gave, I suppose.

"I was just hoping I'd have a little while longer before I had to deal with the biggest shit-head of the century," I quipped back, feeling a little lighter at the banter.

"What is it?" Ron demanded as we accepted Rosie's delivery.

"Is he stupid? He's stupid, isn't he?" Rosie looked at me, baffled, for some reassurance that her ears weren't tricking her. "It's a letter, dumbass."

"He is stupid," I heartily agreed, much to Ron's indignation. "Now go bother your little friends before I throw you out the train."

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"You wouldn't, because I'd throw myself off, first. I'm gonna go do just that, to get over the horrors of seeing you. I'm gonna have nightmares for weeks."

"Welcome to the club," I said, waving Rosie a goodbye as she left our compartment.

"Percy," Hermione said, pained, "why is she like you now?"

"She's not. She's a class clown without a frown. I'm a class clown with one. There's a difference." And with that, I tore the letter open.

'Percy,
I would be delighted if you would join my for a bite of lunch in compartment C.
Sincerely, Professor H.E.F. Slughorn.'

"Maybe I should join Rosie in jumping out the train," I muttered, scowling down at the invitation.

"Who's Slughorn?" Neville asked.

"New teacher." Harry seemed to be just as displeased as I was. "Well, I suppose we have to go, won't we?"

"But what does he want me for?" Neville stood, nervously hunching in on himself.

"No idea," I said. "Come on, let's get this show on the road. Maybe the sooner we meet up, the sooner he'll shut up."

Our trek down the corridor was made up of people leaping out of their compartments to ogle at us — I wasn't used to being on the receiving end of the gawking looks with Harry. I was more infamous at Hogwarts than anything, considering I had a tendency to lose as much points as I gained, but that had always been something... human. They'd seen me as their friendly neighborhood class clown, talking back when I believed it to be right. I guess my being at the forefront of articles with Harry before and after the revelation of Voldemort's comeback was enough to flip the switch from 'he's an idiot with too much sass' to 'boy of boy can I get his autograph?'

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