The morning of a respectable House prefect begins with bureaucracy — that phrase could describe all the difficulties that had piled onto my head like a snowball.
No, of course I had foreseen this, and what's more, I was ready for it, but the urge to dress it up, if only in my own thoughts, was strong indeed.
Early in the morning, after all my training with various glaives and other life-burdening equipment, I tidied myself up and headed first thing to the greenhouse of Pomona Sprout, our Head of House.
Stepping into her office — if one could call a nook in a large greenhouse that — I immediately spotted the Head of House, her grey curls bursting in jaunty strands from beneath her hat. She didn't look her usual cheerful self, which gave the impression of being summoned onto the carpet before a superior for a reprimand or some serious assignment.
"Good morning," I nodded with a half-smile, not forgetting to straighten my collar for appearances' sake.
"Good morning, Mr Granger," Madam Sprout nodded with unaccustomed reserve, but a second later she softened. "A cup of tea?"
"I'll abstain, I think. There's still a mountain of work to plough through."
"Quite so… Yes, quite right, Mr Granger. I see that since you're on your own, you'll be running your affairs as you did last year?"
"Of course. Miss Abbott and I have already come to an arrangement."
"Splendid," Madam Sprout nodded. "In that case…"
She quickly assembled a single stack from several piles of documents and handed it to me.
"Here are the timetables, club forms, and other paperwork. By the way, you ought to see to our House Quidditch team."
"I'll have to," I agreed without much enthusiasm. "The team lost several players with the last graduating class."
"And its captain."
"And its captain," I agreed again. "But I think I have some candidates for the role…"
"Actually, I've already found a captain," Madam Sprout looked pleased. "He probably hasn't shared the good news yet."
"And who might that be?"
"Zacharias Smith, of course. He acquitted himself rather well last year, and according to Miss Appleby, he's the best strategist. Though she did suspect you were the better candidate, she chose not to complicate your life by insisting on it. In our House…"
"It isn't the done thing," I smiled, finishing the thought for Madam Sprout.
"Precisely."
From the greenhouse I returned to the common room, where students had only just begun to gather. Hannah, being one of the most conscientious, was already there.
"Good morning," she waved at me, sitting down at a chair by one of the little tables and nudging a decorative potted plant slightly aside.
"Morning's never good," I set the documents down on the table and sat across from her.
"Don't lay it on so thick," she waved me off, starting to sort through the documents. "I'll take the 'ladies'' half. Will we be escorting the first-years?"
"I'd thought to delegate that to those who need it more. There are a couple of candidates for future prefect, after all. But given the whole murky situation, I'd rather handle this matter personally until I've formed an opinion of that very situation."
"Worried someone might cause trouble?"
"Something like that. Did you know Zacharias is captain of the team?"
"No," Hannah was surprised. "He'd shown interest in that sort of thing, of course, as well as in planning and organisation… But I didn't think he'd be chosen."
"And yet…"
We quickly sorted the timetables by year, setting aside separately the timetables for sixth and seventh years — those were individual. Turning various thoughts over in my head on the matter, I decided to hedge against a rise in "alternative giftedness" from the House, and with a flick of my wand I transfigured two large black chalkboards, on which, by the same magic, I wrote out the timetables in white text. Now at least it was clear which classes which years had, where, and when. And if a student didn't know where they needed to be — well, that was their problem.
Students began gathering in the common room — some drowsy and rumpled, doing their grooming on the go, others, on the contrary, brisk and full of energy. Hannah and I immediately got to work, handing out timetables and "catching" the club leaders of our House to hand them their forms — as last year, there was bureaucratic work to do, recording the current number of members in each club and, generally, clarifying whether the club would even exist this year. Why? Allocation of rooms, resources, and so on, since some clubs need something beyond a wand and a scrap of parchment — like the ladies' sewing and dressmaking club. Yes, there is such a thing.
"Zacharias, my friend, come here," I beckoned my comrade the moment I saw him enter the common room.
"Morning, Hector," he nodded, yawning at length.
"Are you the captain?"
"Erm… Well, yes, I am."
"There you go…" I promptly thrust a stack of papers at him. "Enjoy. You need to sort out the line-up, who's missing and so on, take inventory of the equipment, and note down anything that's needed. Set a time for try-outs and coordinate it…"
"Hold on, sir prefect," Zacharias protested with a smile, brandishing the sheaf of papers. "I know all the ins and outs. Tamsin filled me in last year already."
"Did she? Splendid. Once it's done, the papers come to me. Two weeks for the lot."
"Yes, I know. Will you be playing?"
"Yes," I nodded and, noticing the first-years, waved at them. "I'm still under contract to play. The first-years…"
Zacharias understood that I'd switched my attention to the little ones who had approached, looking somewhat lost. A good thing Hannah and I had given the welcome speech rather well the night before and the youngsters remembered us, otherwise we'd be running about trying to catch them.
"Ready for your first day?" I looked at the five boys.
"Yes…"
"No…"
"I'm hungry…"
Hannah came over, leading her charges — four girls.
"Here are your timetables," I handed each of the boys a sheet of parchment. "You can get everything ready now, or after breakfast — there's enough time."
The boys read what was on the parchments, whispered among themselves about something of their own, and quickly ran off to their rooms. I turned to Hannah and glanced at her "half of the load."
"And yours?"
"They decided they'd come after breakfast."
"Right, the first years have Herbology, so there's a clever shortcut from here."
"And from the Great Hall the road's straighter."
In short, we soon led the first-years to the Great Hall for breakfast.
The atmosphere here was the usual sort, a little gloomy on account of the overcast morning sky and the absence of yesterday's festivity, but on the whole many students were either already seated at the tables or arriving.
Over breakfast they discussed the prospects and expectations regarding the new teachers, the splitting of DADA into two separate subjects. Some voiced the thought that the syllabus would stay the same and the split was a mere formality. Others supposed that along with this formality the content of the courses would change as well. Strangely enough, even in our House, many of whose students have ties to the Ministry, if only through parents and relatives, no one could say anything definite, and no one had any precise information.
Breakfast had nearly come to an end and there were five minutes left before Hannah and I would have to lead the first-years back to the common room or straight to the greenhouses to Madam Sprout. So I hurried the youngsters along while I sat beside my year-mates.
"By the way, you never did say," Susan addressed me, "which subjects you'll be taking."
"The usual compulsory ones, I think, plus Runes. I might adjust it somehow. The first two weeks are conditionally optional attendance anyway."
"You're a journeyman potioneer, so why do you need advanced Potions?" Zacharias was surprised. "A journeyman implies NEWT-level knowledge and a touch more, if I remember rightly."
"In the minimum sense," Susan answered for me. "Right on the edge of failing."
"I don't know," I shrugged. "Slughorn has cropped up more than once in the materials I've studied. A recognised master and teacher. Perhaps I'll learn something new, something out of the ordinary. I think I should first simply have a word with him and find out his plans for teaching the subject."
"And you know Transfiguration better than anyone."
"No, no," I waved it off with a smile. "I've just personally found a few methods of getting around the… absurdly complicated bits. That's why I say I'll attend all the subjects at first, talk to the professors, find out the lay of the land. I think it'll end up being four or five subjects. There's still some uncertainty about my practical work with Healer Smethwyck, too. Right, everyone!"
I rose from the table, drawing the first-years' attention. Hannah did the same, chivvying the girls along.
"We're setting off."
Before long I'd brought the boys to the greenhouses and stayed to wait for Madam Sprout, while Hannah waited for the first-year girls, since they'd decided to gather for lessons after breakfast.
"Excuse me…" a somewhat bashful first-year spoke up while we waited by the greenhouses.
"Yes?"
"Is it true that you're the best Quidditch player at Hogwarts?"
"Hm… If that's what they say," I smiled faintly. "I see this question interests everyone?"
The boys nodded.
"And why, out of all my achievements, was that the one you picked?"
"Well… It's Quidditch! It's brilliant!" said one of them.
"And I saw a wizard-photo of our prefect doing those dives!" another rejoiced.
"What other achievements?" asked a tousled fair-haired boy, his tie having slipped off to one side somewhere.
"Various ones," I straightened his tie, which made him puff up like a mouse on grain, to the others' sniggers. "They say I'm the best duellist and fighter in general. The best at Transfiguration. A journeyman potioneer. Soon I'll be a wizard-medic, a Healer."
"Ooooh!" the youngsters drawled in various keys.
"And what's a 'journeyman'?" the only boy wearing trainers posed this rather interesting question.
"Well, to put it simply, it's a measure of my knowledge and skill in Potions. By comparison, better than most, but not better than a master. For instance, Headmaster Snape and Professor Slughorn are masters, and the latter has himself trained several masters. A distinguished master, you might say. Heh…"
"Potions are boring."
At that moment Hannah appeared from around the corner of another greenhouse with the girls, and Madam Sprout walked along with them. Unlocking the greenhouse, the Head of House, smiling gently, invited the first-years inside, immediately instructing them to touch nothing with their hands for now and to change into their work robes. And so, with a clear conscience, we set off to our own lessons.
"Hector, are you headed to Runes?"
"Well, yes. And you?"
"Nah, nothing for me there. Free period."
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