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“And guess who’s a Slytherin prefect?” said Ron, still with his eyes closed.
“Malfoy,” replied Harry at once, his worst fear confirmed.
“’Course,” said Ron bitterly, stuffing the rest of the Frog into his mouth and taking another.

Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone.

“It’s been great meeting all of you,” said Tonks, hugging Hermione and Ginny. “We’ll see you soon, I expect.”

Once inside the station they lingered casually beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten until the coast was clear, then each of them leaned against it in turn and fell easily through onto platform nine and three quarters, where the Hogwarts Express stood belching sooty steam over a platform packed with departing students and their families. Harry inhaled the familiar smell and felt his spirits soar. . . . He was really going back. . . .

How Muggles can stand traveling without magic . . .”

“I see them d-d-dead all the time!” Mrs. Weasley moaned into his shoulder. “All the t-t-time! I d-d-dream about it . . .”
<…>
“Half the f-f-family’s in the Order, it’ll b-b-be a miracle if we all come through this. . . . and P-P-Percy’s not talking to us. . . . What if something d-d-dreadful happens and we had never m-m-made up? And what’s going to happen if Arthur and I get killed, who’s g-g-going to look after Ron and Ginny?”

He followed Mundungus back toward the table, though not remotely hungry. His pleasure in the party had evaporated as quickly as it had come; he wished he were upstairs in bed.

Giving the twins his Triwizard winnings had seemed a simple thing to do at the time, but what if it led to another family row and a Percy-like estrangement?

“Look what Dung’s gotten us,” said George,

he slid away from them in the direction of Fred and George, who were huddled in a corner with Mundungus.
Mundungus stopped talking when he saw Harry, but Fred winked and beckoned Harry closer.
“It’s okay,” he told Mundungus, “we can trust Harry, he’s our financial backer.”

Hermione was talking very earnestly to Lupin about her view of elf rights.
“I mean, it’s the same kind of nonsense as werewolf segregation, isn’t it? It all stems from this horrible thing wizards have of thinking they’re superior to other creatures . . .”

Harry’s mood suddenly lifted. His father had not been a prefect either. All at once the party seemed much more enjoyable; he loaded up his plate, feeling unusually fond of everyone in the room.

Her hair was tomato-red and waist length today; she looked like Ginny’s older sister.

“I thought we’d have a little party, not a sit-down dinner,” she told

Was he, Harry, <…>, going to sulk because he didn’t have a badge,

“Drop it, Hermione.”
“We’re going to have to watch our step, George,” said Fred, pretending to tremble, “with these two on our case . . .”
“Yeah, it looks like our law-breaking days are finally over,” said George, shaking his head.
And with another loud crack, the twins Disapparated.

“Prefect . . . ickle Ronnie the prefect . . .”

“W-what do you mean?” said Ron,<…>
“You’ve got to have a reward for this!” said Mrs. Weasley fondly.

And don’t forget to pack your trunks. . . .

“I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That’s everyone in the family!”
“What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?” said George indignantly, as his mother pushed him aside and flung her arms around her youngest son.
“Wait until your father hears! Ron, I’m so proud of you, what wonderful news, you could end up Head Boy just like Bill and Percy, it’s the first step!