The guys, and the others too, began to look at each other with bewilderment, looking for the culprit of such a magical impact, but did not find. And then everyone suddenly decided to look at me—the only one not looking for the culprit with a gaze, but just continuing to smirk.
"At school you will still have the opportunity to kick each other... Whatever you want to kick there," I waved off everything in general, and the guys intercepted their wands in the air and put them away without much desire. "Hermione, continue, please."
Sister was about to continue scolding Weasley...
"...Not that," I smiled, causing a silent question in her eyes. "I'm about the duties of prefects."
"Ah, understood... So..."
For five minutes Hermione listed all duties quite quickly and clearly, ending on indulgences and opportunities. What can I say—nothing unexpected.
According to duties, the following comes out. A prefect must maintain order during school trips on the Hogwarts Express. Control zones in this case go not by houses, but by carriages, but often students cluster by houses one way or another, so it is practically equivalent. What does "maintain order" mean? Stop magic in corridors, fights, skirmishes, provide help if asked, and everything in that spirit.
Directly at Hogwarts, prefects have several duties. In addition to the obvious maintenance of order both in the house and in the school in general, prefects are charged with several duties. A prefect must lead first-year students to classes and pick them up from there for the first two weeks. A prefect must patrol Hogwarts during curfew in accordance with the schedule established by the Headmaster. During duty, a prefect is obliged to stop violations of rules by other students, and considering that they generally should not be in corridors and other rooms except the common room or bedroom—everything starts with this, and then depending on what these students were doing. A prefect has the right to remove any number of points from his house, and a maximum of five points from a representative of another, but there are a number of restrictions and certain responsibility here. Prefects' decisions on removing points are considered once a week at the teachers' council, and if by a general vote of the Heads of Houses it turns out that points were removed without a valid reason, then they are removed from the house of the prefect who appointed the punishment. Because of this, according to Hermione, it is preferable to hand over violators directly into the hands of the teacher on duty or the Head of House depending on the severity of the misconduct—risking points and reputation is undesirable.
A prefect is an intermediary between the house and the Head of House in various administrative issues. Through him, this or that information is often brought to the house, interaction of the house with Heads of Houses and, in various controversial issues, with other houses is carried out. For example, the certification of the composition of the house Quidditch team is in the jurisdiction of the prefect, but there is a small "but" here—management of the team composition and other nuances, be it training time and so on, is indeed handled by the prefect, but here he has an administrative resource in the person of the team captain. In fact, the Quidditch team captain—is the one fulfilling the role of a prefect in Quidditch matters, and the prefect himself only certifies this or that issue, but responsibility is shared equally. A prefect deals with organizational issues regarding various events in the house, intra-house circles and all such things. In general, if going through the list—a bunch of duties. If in fact—the house is a sufficiently self-regulating organism, and the task of the prefect—is simply not to let everything take its course.
"Ah, nonsense," Ron waved it off.
"It seems," I looked at Hermione with a smile. "You got just a wonderful colleague."
Hermione rubbed her temple wearily, and Ron, sitting in the armchair, smugly turned up his nose.
"You bet!" the redhead smiled. "I'll definitely restore order."
"That was irony," Malfoy looked at Weasley with dislike, "you stupid creature."
"What did you say?!" Ron bristled, but remembering the futility of the last attempt to sort things out, did absolutely nothing.
"I have only one question," I looked around those present. "And who is the Head Boy?"
"And he hasn't been chosen yet," Malfoy chuckled, as the most informed, which is strange. "The Head of House said that a suitable candidate could not be found over the summer. Will look in the first two weeks at someone from the seventh year."
"Suppose," I nodded. "And who will distribute us among the carriages? I, for example, have no idea where who rides in accordance with unspoken traditions."
"Here it's simple," Pansy took the floor. "Usually seated as follows, counting from the first carriage. Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff. First-years can often be anywhere, simply because of a small number of acquaintances or their complete absence—sit where there is a place."
"Hmm... Turns out, I always rode somewhere in Ravenclaw carriages. Understandable why my trips are always so quiet."
"Looks like it," Pansy nodded with a slight smile.
"So what? " I looked around everyone. "Shall we go about our business? Go maintain order?"
"No point watching ours," Hannah, sitting next to me, shrugged with a slight smile. "Not a single incident in the last ten years, probably."
"Ours probably only read books," Anthony thought, adjusting his tie in Ravenclaw colors. "Although it can reach experiments. I'll probably go. Padma?"
"Me too."
Ravenclaws quickly left the carriage.
"And why are you looking at me?" Malfoy smirked. "Ours don't need to explain what is allowed and what is not. Unlike the Gryffs. So to you..."
Malfoy glanced at Hermione and Ron.
"...I would recommend going and watching yours so that they don't do something strange."
"Go watch your snakes yourself," Ron waved it off. "Sure that it's not they who know everything, but no one will listen to you simply."
"Don't shift the blame, Weasley," Draco smirked.
"That's it, I wash my hands!" Hermione literally threw up her hands and quickly left the carriage.
Ron just surrendered to enjoyment, lounging in the chair and looking at the quite decent decoration of the room.
"Nevertheless," I got up from the sofa, straightening my robe. "I'll go see if everything is in order. Perhaps someone from the newcomers may need help or they have questions."
"And can you answer these questions?" Draco just wouldn't let up.
"I see you are on fire today. Did something good happen?"
"My father hired the best instructors for the whole summer," Malfoy declared not without pride.
"Ah, clear, glad to get away from home from under total control and strict schedule," I nodded, smiling, and Malfoy only grimaced.
"Breathe more freely, Malfoy," I went to the exit from the carriage. "Ten months of freedom have begun."
Spending a couple of hours on rather aimless wandering through the carriages, periodically stopping by the window and enjoying the views, I returned to the prefects' carriage. Only Pansy was here, calmly sitting on the sofa and reading a book on charms. Something quite advanced, if judging by the title. I sat nearby and relaxed, settling more comfortably.
"Did you spend time productively?" she asked without looking up from reading, and a slight smirk played on her face.
"Absolutely. Haven't heard such a number of absurd rumors and assumptions in one unit of time for a long time. Surprisingly, everything is calm on the train, no one is rowdy, rules are not violated, and conjure only in compartments."
"That is, you didn't stop magic in compartments?" she looked at me.
"Nope. As in school rules, here it says that magic in corridors is forbidden. And, as they say, what is not forbidden is allowed."
"Indeed."
"Pity only that didn't meet Daphne."
"She and Astoria will go by Floo."
"Why such difficulties?"
"You'll laugh, Granger," Pansy smiled, looking at me, "but their parents decided that you two can take advantage of the situation and retire in a compartment, having properly enchanted everything around."
"Hmm... The idea itself isn't bad," I nodded.
"Well yes, you bet," Pansy turned up her nose. "You guys think only about one thing."
"About Quidditch?"
"What does Quidditch have to do with it?"
"Well how so!" I feigned indignation. "All guys think about how great it is to drive their Quaffles into the hoops."
"This is..." the tips of Pansy's ears turned slightly red. "The stupidest analogy I've ever heard. Although..."
"Often listen to analogies on such topics?"
"Do you want to provoke me? So you might succeed," but despite her words, the look of her green eyes expressed amusement.
"Honestly—it happens by itself."
"Everything is clear with you, Mr. Granger. Perhaps I prefer reading," Pansy returned to her occupation again, looking carefully at the pages of text and diagrams.
"What are you reading?"
"A book."
"This, oddly enough, I understood myself."
"Then should have asked: 'What am I reading about'."
"So about what?"
"About charms."
"Incredible brevity," I nodded, smiling. "I read this on the cover too."
"See," she smiled again without looking up from reading. "You know everything."
"Interesting?"
"And would I read something uninteresting in my free time?"
"Yes who knows you."
"Well check if it is interesting."
Moving closer, I lowered my gaze into the text. Hmm... Amusing. Haven't found such topics in the library yet. Really interesting.
When slightly blushed Pansy wanted to turn the page, I stopped her, holding her hand.
"Wait. Half a paragraph left."
"Not meant to be," Pansy turned the page, looking at me with challenge and a smile.
"Okay-okay. Time will come, and there will be a holiday on my street."
"Most certainly."
So time went.
It began to get dark outside the window. The rain started, leaving slanted drops on the glass, then ended. Only once the sun peeked out, almost leaning towards the horizon at that moment. At that moment the view out the window was gorgeous—we drove along the top of a hill, and could see how the sun's rays, breaking through thick clouds, fanned out over the water surface of some lake.
Other prefects came and went, but no one made much noise and everyone strove only to sit down wearily, relax, drink tea and be silent.
Upon arrival in Hogsmeade, we, as prefects, were almost the first to get off onto the platform. Draco immediately found his comrades waiting for him in the person of Crabbe and Goyle, and noticing Potter nearby too, this reunited trinity instantly headed to him to disturb his peace of mind. True, Weasley was also with Potter, but when did such a thing stop Malfoy with comrades? Correct, never.
Carriages with Thestrals waited for us near Hogsmeade, and once again I was convinced that almost no one sees these creatures, but this is not surprising. I got to Hogwarts together with Hannah and other guys from the house.
Great Hall—I didn't even think how much I missed these stupid candles floating in huge numbers above our heads, the illusion of the sky, which, as if on order, began to clear up, demonstrating stars, a bright crescent and clouds illuminated by its light.
Taking a seat at the table, I, like other guys, eagerly awaited the start of the sorting of newcomers, the Headmaster's opening speech, and then the feast. Okay, everyone waited for the feast first of all, because not a single even the tastiest snack taken with you on a trip compares to a festive table at Hogwarts. It seems to me that compiling a menu—is a separate art. And personally I wonder who at Hogwarts owns this art?
"Suspicious crap," Ernie stated importantly, sitting on my right hand.
His words were heard by many next to us, and the guys looked at Macmillan with a question.
"There, look," Ernie nodded at the teachers' table.
Where specifically? The question is stupid, considering one simple fact—at the teachers' table, each of whom wore albeit colorful, but dark clothes, not counting Dumbledore, the color of whose clothes was purple, but very soft... In general, one amazingly pink lady sat at the table. She was plump, clearly short, with short curls of brown hair under a bright pink beret. Seemingly quite normal proportional face was literally distorted by such a sugary smile that it became sickening even for me, who saw or remembered all sorts of shit. Pink... She was all in pink! In the most poisonous shade of this color, bright, piercing the eye. Maybe in another setting such a color would look harmonious, but not here, not within the walls of Hogwarts. Against the background of this pink, even the light and airy, elegant and even somewhat frivolous uniform of girls from Beauxbatons, who stayed here last year, looked more than appropriate.
"My dear friend," I addressed Ernie, and everyone else. "Tell me please, what is an office worker and windbag, in the person of Umbridge, doing in the place of the DADA teacher?"
"Think I know?"
"And who knows?"
Apparently, no one knew. It seems this year will not be the best, because no matter how you look at it, I will never believe that this lady can be a good teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the fact that even I know perfectly well about the activities of this, to some extent, poisonous person, and at the same time the truest supporter of Cornelius Fudge, as the Minister for Magic of England, then nothing good can be expected for sure. Well... We'll see, we'll see.
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