Chapter 266: Prefect

Harry admitted it felt good to let Malfoy see him stepping down from the bright blue Rolls-Royce in the center of the convoy, flanked by a group of cool people—especially since Crabbe and Goyle were still fumbling with the subway turnstiles, dragging their trunks and looking utterly miserable.

Besides the Weasleys, many other members of the Order had come, seeing the children onto the train before waving goodbye with cheerful enthusiasm.

They naturally settled into adjacent compartments; Eve and Ginny planned to sit alone, while Harry, Ron, and Zhang Qiu sat together, just as they had in Beauxbatons—except now, Cedric was gone, having graduated.

"Zhang Qiu, don't you have any weird sayings this year?" Harry asked. "For some reason, I feel like you've become much quieter."

"How to put it? Fate no longer exists, so I don't care about those divinations anymore," Zhang Qiu said flatly. "All I need to do now is stay by your side—that's my task."

"Oh, I thought it was a side effect of your spell. Your spells always drain your sanity, right?" Ron said.

"I suspect your spells drain your emotional intelligence," Zhang Qiu shot back.

At that moment, a knock came at the compartment door. Harry opened it to find Neville and Hermione, each wearing a gleaming Prefect badge.

"We're on patrol, but honestly, there's nothing to worry about—how are you all doing?" Hermione asked. "I saw the convoy—so the papers were telling the truth?"

"What did you see in the papers?" Harry asked.

"Harry Potter is becoming a leader," Hermione said, her tone serious. "The Ministry is going out of its way to flatter you."

"It does seem that way," Harry admitted—he'd noticed the reporting felt off lately.

"This isn't necessarily a good thing," Hermione glanced nervously behind her. "There might be some conspiracy here—why would the Ministry suddenly praise you without reason?"

"It's nothing," Ron interrupted dismissively. "The Prophet always makes up stories to grab attention. Talking about a teenage hero is better than reading about parrots water-skiing every day."

"My grandmother once said, the devil's whispers sometimes sound like angelic voices," Neville said. "Whatever's behind this, you should be careful."

"I think it's normal," Zhang Qiu said. "Fudge is desperate to shift public attention. Scrimgeour was forced to resign, and Crouch didn't leave voluntarily—there's definitely some dirty deal involved, and he doesn't want people focusing on it."

"And if everyone else is talking about Middle Eastern conflicts, Israeli relations, Brexit disputes, defense budgets, inflation, unemployment rates," she continued, "while the wizarding world is all peace and prosperity, and a brilliant young wizard is rising to prominence—that's a very visible political achievement for the Prime Minister."

Hermione blinked. "Well, if that's the case, then it's not so bad."

After they left, Ron grumbled, "I think she's being paranoid. If the Ministry were slandering you, fine—but if they're respecting you, what conspiracy could there possibly be?"

"I think there really might be something," Harry instinctively grew wary. "Why did Snape choose Neville as Prefect? He must be trying to send me a message."

"No, no, no—Prefect duties are just endless petty chores. He probably just wants you to focus on more important things," Ron said.

"Maybe." Harry gazed out the window, wondering whether Snape had already discovered Ho Fa's true identity—or whether he simply thought Harry needed to spend more time with the Order.

Another knock interrupted Harry's thoughts. He opened the door to find Malfoy and Pansy standing in the corridor; other compartments were open too, and Luna was leaning against the doorframe, reaching out to knock on Harry's compartment.

"Look!" she said, her voice tinged with delight. "I told you Harry was over here."

"Ah, yes," Malfoy revealed a rare flicker of tension. "Harry, how are you doing?"

"What? I'm fine, of course. How about you?" Harry replied casually.

"The situation favors us," Malfoy swallowed hard.

"Hufflepuff's Prefects are Hannah and Ernie," Pansy said. "Ravenclaw's are Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil. I didn't even notice—Padma used to be Crabbe's dance partner—and you introduced them."

"Yes, your scheming is truly exquisite—I'm utterly impressed," Malfoy said, sounding unnatural.

"I didn't even know about this?" Harry blinked. "I mean—who could've expected her to become Prefect?"

"Regardless, it gives us a great topic," Pansy said with a false smile. "We came specially to tell you how surprising this is."

"Then we'll get back to our petty duties," Malfoy nodded, then pulled Pansy away down the corridor.

"What was that? Why did he seem so strange?" Harry looked at the four in the adjacent compartment.

"Who knows? Maybe he cracked his skull and drained all the water out of his brain," Ron's voice came from behind.

"I think," Cui Ge said, watching Harry with an odd expression, "he's afraid you'll hold him accountable for his actions as a Death Eater."

"My dad says you've become the de facto leader of the Order and are planning a grand scheme to eliminate all the Death Eaters," Luna said cheerfully. "Malfoy wants to distance himself from the Death Eaters, but his father doesn't agree."

"He's had a fight with his family," Ginny added. "Pansy told us."

"No matter what's happening outside," Harry rubbed his temples, "at school, we still focus on studying."

"Yes, especially this year with OWLs coming up," Zhang Qiu said. "You four don't need to worry yet, but Harry's got it rough—he has to study himself and help Ron too."

"Malfoy's worse—he has to figure out how to get Crabbe and Goyle to pass," Ron said gleefully.

"If you compare yourself to them, you've already lost," Harry patted his shoulder. "I think you can study on your own, right?"

"I think I can admit defeat," Ron's voice trembled.

"Actually, there's one more thing," Luna suddenly said. "Do you know the Greengrasses?"

"Greengrasses?" All eyes suddenly fixed on the crazy girl.

"Astoria Greengrass—a very pretty little girl in the lower years," she said with certainty. "Since Daphne is a firm spinster, Astoria may become the sole heir of the Greengrass family—and once she marries into another house, the Greengrass name will vanish."

"That's just eating the whole family," Zhang Qiu snapped. "Who's so heartless?"

"Lucius Malfoy," Luna pulled out the latest issue of The Quibbler. "It says here that Lucius intends to quietly swallow the entire Greengrass fortune through marriage."

Seeing the large words "The Quibbler" on the cover, everyone suddenly relaxed. Cui Ge said, "Everyone, disperse. Pretend nothing happened."

As Zhang Qiu closed the compartment door, she smiled. "I believe it. I really believe it."

Luna pouted and tucked the magazine away; the two compartments returned to their original state.

"So Malfoy's got a rough year ahead," Ron's grin stretched ear to ear. "If he doesn't support the Death Eaters, he'll fight with his family; if he does, we'll knock him down."

"I really don't want outside conflicts brought into school," Harry said wearily.

To change the mood, Ron naturally brought up Quidditch. They discussed how to coordinate with Gryffindor's lineup, how the Keeper and Seeker might work together—Quidditch topics were endless.

Suddenly, the train began to slow. Harry and Ron noticed the sky darkening, and reluctantly ended their team talk, then started looking for places to change clothes.

When they stepped onto the platform, breathing in the cool evening breeze carrying the scent of pine trees, a crisp voice rang out: "First-years, come this way!"

"That's Hagrid?" Ginny stepped forward to ask.

"Ah, yes," Harry explained. "Hagrid's been assigned a secret mission. This year, there'll be a new Care of Magical Creatures professor—who will it be?"

"I hope it's Newt," Ron said.

As a swaying lantern illuminated the newcomer, Harry realized Ron might be disappointed. The new professor was a middle-aged man with short hair, well-toned muscles, and a sharp, efficient demeanor—he was certainly not Newt.

"Upper-year students, please step aside—you're blocking the door," he said.

Harry pushed Ron through the narrow passage to the road outside. Over a hundred horseless carriages stood parked there—every year they transported students above first year to the castle, and this year was no different.

"Did you see the horses pulling them?" Zhang Qiu asked, holding her divination notebook, then sheepishly rubbed her chin. "Sorry—habit."

"Should I see horses?" Harry adjusted his glasses. "Can you see them? Could it be something like the Thestrals again?"

"I can't see them either, so my divination was wrong," Zhang Qiu said, scribbling in her journal. "Horses gone."