"Cohen, has your booklist arrived?" Edward poked his head through the door. "Your mum and I will go buy your books in a bit – and yours too, all of you, Molly's far too busy."
"It's here," Cohen replied, handing over his booklist. Fred, ever so obedient, also passed his over (Harry and the others had the exact same booklist as Cohen).
"Hold on, what's that in your hand—" Edward froze as he took the booklist.
"A Prefect badge," Fred stated.
"Very shiny," George added.
"Dad, you didn't... you didn't have one when you were at school, did you?" Cohen asked, a challenging glint in his eye.
"Well... the criteria for prefects might vary, you know – or perhaps Dumbledore just had a momentary lapse in judgment back then—" Edward mumbled, changing the subject. "I must go tell your mother this wonderful news – Rose! Our son's a prefect!"
Edward went clattering down the stairs, yelling as he went, and it sounded like he might have tripped.
"Ouch…"
"There's no need to be in such a hurry about anything," Rose's resigned voice drifted up from downstairs.
By the time Edward and the others returned with the books, it was already evening.
There were no meetings today, so Mrs. Weasley had prepared a grand dinner, inviting quite a few available Order of the Phoenix members to join, hoping they could relax their strained nerves.
Mrs. Weasley even specially prepared a celebratory banner for Cohen and Hermione, with "Heartfelt Congratulations to Cohen and Hermione on Becoming Prefects" written on it in golden paint.
Many people came to the dinner: Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley, and even Moody made an appearance.
"James and I didn't get chosen, though. Back in our fifth year, the Gryffindor prefects were Lupin and Rose," Sirius reminisced. "We caused too much trouble; Lupin was definitely the one who looked most like a good student."
"Who was the Hufflepuff prefect in your year?" Cohen asked curiously.
"Arnold," Edward grumbled. "That badge never left his robes from fifth year onwards."
"Is that why you used a Sticking Charm to glue the badge to his chest?" Rose asked, stifling a laugh.
"So you weren't exactly a rule-follower either, huh?" Cohen said, the realization dawning on him.
"That was the only time I ever broke a school rule, alright?" Edward insisted. "If you'd seen how smug Arnold was, you'd have done the same thing. He never acted all high and mighty again after that."
"I'm so jealous," Tonks sighed. "I never even got to be a prefect, let alone Head Girl…"
"Even though James didn't become a prefect, he and Lily were Head Boy and Head Girl in their seventh year. Ah, they were so full of life back then…" Sirius said sadly.
"Let bygones be bygones," Lupin interjected, swiftly steering the conversation back on track to prevent the dinner from turning into a memorial service. "I hear the new Hogwarts professor this year is a Ministry of Magic official."
"The Ministry?" Harry's eyes widened. He had absolutely no fondness for the Ministry these days – perhaps with the exception of Kingsley, Tonks, and Mr. Weasley. "How could Professor Dumbledore let them teach—"
"Because Dumbledore genuinely couldn't find anyone willing to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts," Moody growled. "Nobody wants to teach it, especially considering the dreadful fates of the previous professors. One died, one was disgraced, and only Lupin and I had a somewhat better ending."
"To be honest, my situation isn't exactly 'good' now either," Lupin said with a wry smile. "It used to be that I told people 'Remus Lupin is a werewolf,' but now, the moment they hear 'Remus Lupin,' they say, 'Oh, you mean that werewolf kicked out of Hogwarts, do you? Get lost!'"
"That's absolutely despicable!" Tonks exclaimed, furious. "It's just taking a day off for the full moon – how are you any different from anyone else?"
"Anyway, the Ministry's put someone in to teach that class, and Dumbledore probably couldn't refuse. After all, the school can't openly defy the Ministry; it wouldn't be good for the children," Moody explained.
"I hope it's someone like Mr. Pisgood," Harry wished.
"You might be disappointed with that outcome," Cohen said. "Arnold doesn't work for the Ministry anymore."
"With such a good opportunity, Fudge wouldn't just send anyone," Moody took a swig of his drink. "But you students don't need to worry about these things – that's Dumbledore's headache."
---
## The Day of Departure
The next day, from waking up to rushing to King's Cross Station, Cohen felt like he didn't have a single second to catch his breath – mainly because their group included Harry, who was a high-priority escort.
"Hurry, hurry! If we stick to the original plan, we'll probably miss the train!" Hermione had already arrived at their row of rooms, pushing open each door to hurry them along. "Mrs. Weasley is absolutely frantic—"
The room was in chaos because Fred and George were trying to charm their trunks to fly downstairs on their own, but a trunk had collided with Ginny.
"—She could be seriously hurt! You two imbeciles—" Mrs. Weasley shrieked hysterically.
Cohen had initially thought leaving at eight o'clock wouldn't be late at all – until Moody led them on such a winding journey that they practically circled London before arriving at King's Cross Station, and it was already ten fifty-five.
They were hastily ushered onto the train. Although Mrs. Weasley hadn't been in the best mood with Fred and George when they left the house, she still affectionately kissed them goodbye as they boarded the train and reminded them to be careful.
"I can't believe we actually traveled here by car," Ron shook his head. "Two hours! We could have walked to the station faster than that."
"For safety's sake, Mad-Eye is always on high alert," Hermione said understandingly. "Let's find a compartment – the corridor's too crowded."
Perhaps due to the Daily Prophet's smear campaign against Harry and Dumbledore, students on the train would whisper and point as they passed.
"Don't mind them, Harry," Ginny said, walking ahead. "There's a compartment up ahead that doesn't look too full…"
They found a compartment with only one girl inside: Luna Lovegood.
"Hello, Cohen," Luna greeted Cohen very happily. "Hello, Ginny."
"Can we sit here?" Ginny asked.
"Of course," Luna said. "There's always space next to me."
Because Luna had sought out Cohen before, Harry and the others weren't unfamiliar with her, though most still considered Luna to be a bit batty.
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