The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of us, but ahead, in the highest benches of all, were many shadowy figures. They had been talking in low voices, but as the heavy door swung closed behind me and Harry an ominous silence fell. 

A cold male voice rang across the courtroom. 

"You're late." 

"Well, the time had changed for no apparent reason." I said. 

"That is not the Wizengamot's fault." The voice said. "An owl was sent to you this morning. Take your seats." 

"I don't think it was, but okay." I shrugged. 

Our footsteps echoed loudly as Harry and I walked across the stone floor. When we sat on our chairs, me lounging lazily in mine, the chains on the arms clinked threateningly, but did not bind us. I looked up at the people seated at the bench above. 

There were about fifty of them, all, as far as I could see, wearing plum-coloured robes with an elaborately worked silver 'W' on the left-hand side of the chest and all staring down their noses at us, some with very austere expressions, others looks of frank curiosity. 

In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic; he had dispensed with the indulgent smile he had once worn when he spoke to me and my brother. A broad, square-jawed witch with very short grey hair sat on Fudge's left (probably Susan's aunt); she wore a monocle and looked forbidding. On Fudge's right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was slightly in shadow. I thought she looked just like a large, pale toad. She was rather squat with a broad, flabby face, as little neck as Uncle Vernon and a very wide, slack mouth. Her eyes were large, round and slightly bulging. Even the little black velvet bow perched on top of her short curly hair put me in mind of a large fly she was about to catch on a long sticky tongue. 

"Very well." Fudge said. "The accused being present - finally - let us begin. Are you ready?" He called down the row. 

"Yes, sir." An eager voice I knew said. Percy was sitting at the very end of the front bench. I looked at Percy, expecting some sign of recognition from him, but none came. Percy's eyes, behind his horn-rimmed glasses, were fixed on his parchment, a quill poised in his hand. 

"Fuckin' scumbag." I muttered. 

"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," Fudge said in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, "into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Daisy Lily Potter and Harry James Potter, residents at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. 

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley -" 

"- Witness for the defence, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." A quiet voice said from behind me, and I turned my head so fast I cricked my neck. 

Dumbledore was striding serenely across the room wearing long midnight-blue robes and a perfectly calm expression. His long silver beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with me and Harry and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose. 

"Nice." Harry and I chorused. 

The members of the Wizengamot were muttering. All eyes were now on Dumbledore. Some looked annoyed, others slightly frightened; two elderly witches in the back row, however, raised their hands and waved in welcome. 

Fudge appeared shocked and like a deer in headlights that Dumbledore was here. I turned to Harry and started playing tic-tac-toe with him as Fudge stuttered and tried to compose himself. 

Dumbledore took out his wand, gave it a little flick, and a squashy chintz armchair appeared out of nowhere next to me. He sat down, put the tips of his long fingers together, and surveyed Fudge over them with an expression of polite interest. The Wizengamot was still muttering and fidgeting restlessly; only when Fudge spoke again did they settle down. 

"You both received official warnings from the Ministry for using illegal magic in the past, did you not?" 

"Yeah, but -" Harry started. 

"And yet you both conjured Patronuses on the night of the second of August?" Fudge said. 

"I guess," I said, "but -"

"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?" 

"Uh HUH -" 

"Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?" 

"Oh my Godric, let us speak -" 

"Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?" 

"Yes, your Highness," I said angrily and sarcastically, "but we only used it because we were -" 

The witch with the monocle, Madam Bones, cut across me in a booming voice. 

"You produced a fully-fledged Patronus?" 

"Well, I produced mist, but Daisy produced a full one," Harry said, "because -" 

"A corporeal Patronus?" 

"A - huh?" I said. 

"Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapour or smoke?" 

"Yeah." I said. "It was a little dog, it's usually a dog but it used to be a dragon." 

"Used to be?" Madam Bones boomed. "You have produced a Patronus before now?" 

"Yeah." I said. "Harry and I've been doing it for over a year." 

"And you are fifteen years old?" 

"Yeah." I reclined on my seat, resting my arms behind my head. 

"You learned this at school?" 

"Yeah, Professor Lupin taught us in our third year, the absolute legend, because of the -" 

"Impressive." Madam Bones said, staring down at me. "A true Patronus at their age... very impressive indeed." 

Some of the wizards and witches around her were muttering again; a few nodded, but others were frowning and shaking their heads. 

"It's not a question of how impressive the magic was." Fudge said in a testy voice. "In fact, the more impressive the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the children did it in plain view of a Muggle!" 

Those who had been frowning now murmured in agreement, but it was the sight of Percy's sanctimonious little nod that goaded me into speech. 

"We did it because of the fucking Dementors!" I said loudly, before anyone could interrupt me again. 

I had expected more muttering, but the silence that fell seemed to be somehow denser than before. 

"Dementors?" Madam Bones said after a moment, her thick eyebrows rising until her monocle looked in danger of falling out. "What do you mean, girl?" 

"I mean there were two Dementors down that alleyway and they went for me and my brother and my cousin!" 

"Ah." Fudge said again, smirking unpleasantly as he looked around at the Wizengamot, as though inviting them to share the joke. "Yes. Yes, I thought we'd be hearing something like this." 

"Dementors in Little Whinging?" Madam Bones said, in a tone of great surprise. "I don't understand -" 

"Don't you, Amelia?" Fudge said, still smirking. "Let me explain. She's been thinking it through and decided Dementors would make a very nice little cover story, very nice indeed. Muggles can't see Dementors, can they, girl? Highly convenient, highly convenient..." 

"Oh, shut up, you giant pretentious prick." I spat, and both Harry and Dumbledore reached a hand over to rest on each of my arms in warning. 

"So it's just you and your brother's word and no witnesses..."

Dumbledore stood up and announced he had brought a witness. Mrs Figg came dawdling into the courtroom and gave her statement, all the while looking nervous and timid. Fudge became very blustery and indignant at that, and tried to argue against my character. 

"And I haven't even started on what she gets up to at school -" 

"But, as the Ministry has no authority to punish Hogwarts students for misdemeanours at school, Daisy's behaviour there is not relevant to this hearing." Dumbledore said, as politely as ever, but now with a suggestion of coolness behind his words. 

"Oho!" Fudge said. "Not our business what she does at school, eh? You think so?" 

"The Ministry does not have the power to expel Hogwarts students, Cornelius, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August." Dumbledore said. "Nor does it have the right to confiscate wands until charges have been successfully proven, again, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August. In your admirable haste to ensure that the law is upheld, you appear, inadvertently I am sure, to have overlooked a few laws yourself." 

"Laws can be changed." Fudge said savagely. 

"Of course they can." Dumbledore said, inclining his head. "And you certainly seem to be making many changes, Cornelius. Why, in the few short weeks since I was asked to leave the Wizengamot, it has already become the practice to hold a full criminal trial to deal with a simple matter of underage magic!" 

A few of the wizards above them shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Fudge turned a slightly deeper shade of puce. The toadlike witch on his right, however, merely gazed at Dumbledore, her face quite expressionless. 

"As far as I am aware," Dumbledore continued, "there is no law yet in place that says this court's job is to punish Daisy and Harry for every bit of magic they have ever performed. They have been charged with a specific offence and they have presented their defence. All they and I can do now is to await your verdict." 

Dumbledore put his fingertips together again and said no more. Fudge glared at him, evidently incensed.

"Those in favour of clearing the witnesses of all charges?" Madam Bones's booming voice said. 

My head jerked upwards. There were hands in the air, many of them... more than half! I tried to count, but before I could finish, Madam Bones had said, "And those in favour of conviction?" 

Fudge raised his hand; so did half a dozen others, including the witch on his right. 

Fudge glanced around at them all, looking as though there was something large stuck in his throat, then lowered his own hand. He took two deep breaths and said, in a voice distorted by suppressed rage, "Very well, very well... cleared of all charges." 

"Excellent." Dumbledore said briskly, springing to his feet, pulling out his wand, and causing the chintz armchair to vanish. "Well, I must be getting along. Good day to you all." 

And without looking once at me and Harry, he swept from the dungeon.

"Let us go, then, Harold." I leapt up, extending a hand towards Harry. My twin shakily grabbed it, and I hoisted him up from his seat. Nobody seemed to be paying us the slightest bit of attention, except the toadlike witch on Fudge's right, who was now gazing down at me instead of at Dumbledore. Ignoring her, I linked arms with Harry and dandered towards the exit. 

I wrenched open the door and almost collided with Mr Weasley, who was standing right outside, looking pale and apprehensive. 

"Dumbledore didn't say -" 

"Cleared," I said, pulling the door closed behind me, "of all charges!" 

Beaming, Mr Weasley seized us by the shoulders. 

"Guys, that's wonderful! Well, of course, they couldn't have found you guilty, not on the evidence, but even so, I can't pretend I wasn't -" 

But Mr Weasley broke off, because the courtroom door had just opened again. The Wizengamot were filing out. 

"Merlin's beard!" Mr Weasley exclaimed wonderingly, pulling me and Harry aside to let them all pass. "You two were tried by the full court?" 

"I think so." Harry said quietly. 

One or two of the wizards nodded to me as they passed and a few, including Madam Bones, said, "Morning, Arthur," to Mr Weasley, but most averted their eyes. Cornelius Fudge and the toadlike witch were almost the last to leave the dungeon. Fudge acted as though us three were part of the wall, but again, the witch looked almost appraisingly at me as she passed. Last of all to pass was Percy. Like Fudge, he completely ignored his father, me, and Harry; he marched past clutching a large roll of parchment and a handful of spare quills, his back rigid and his nose in the air. The lines around Mr Weasley's mouth tightened slightly, but other than this he gave no sign that he had seen his third son. 

"How's it feel being a traitor, Bighead Boy?" I called after him. Percy paused on the stairs, wobbling on his heels for a long moment, then continued up them, choosing to not turn around or respond. Mr Weasley didn't react to me antagonising his son; he simply turned back to us. 

"I'm going to take you two straight back so you can tell the others the good news." He said, beckoning me and Harry forwards as Percy's heels disappeared up the steps to Level Nine. "I'll drop you off on the way to that toilet in Bethnal Green. Come on..." 

"So, what will you have to do about the toilet?" I asked, grinning.

"Oh, it's a simple enough anti-jinx." Mr Weasley said as we mounted the stairs. "But it's not so much having to repair the damage, it's more the attitude behind the vandalism, Daisy. Muggle-baiting might strike some wizards as funny, but it's an expression of something much deeper and nastier, and I for one -" 

Mr Weasley broke off in mid-sentence. We had just reached the ninth-level corridor and Cornelius Fudge was standing a few feet away from us, talking quietly to a tall man with sleek blond hair and a pointed, pale face. 

The second man turned at the sound of our footsteps. He, too, broke off in mid-conversation, his cold grey eyes narrowed and fixed upon my face. 

"Well, well, well... Patronus Potters." Lucius Malfoy said coolly. 

I felt winded, as though I had just walked into something solid. I had last seen those cold grey eyes through slits in a Death Eater's hood, and last heard that man's voice jeering in a dark manor while Tom Riddle tortured me. I could not believe that Lucius Malfoy dared look me in the face; I could not believe that he was here, in the Ministry of Magic, or that Cornelius Fudge was talking to him, when I had told Fudge mere weeks ago that Malfoy was a Death Eater. 

"The Minister was just telling me about your lucky escape, Miss Potter." Mr Malfoy drawled. "Quite astonishing, the way you continue to wriggle out of very tight holes... Snakelike, in fact..." 

Mr Weasley gripped my shoulder in warning. 

"Yeah." I said. "Yeah, I'm good at escaping." 

Lucius Malfoy raised his eyes to Mr Weasley's face. 

"And Arthur Weasley too! What are you doing here, Arthur?" 

"I work here." Mr Weasley said curtly. 

"Not here, surely?" Mr Malfoy said, raising his eyebrows and glancing towards the door over Mr Weasley's shoulder. "I thought you were up on the second floor... Don't you do something that involves sneaking Muggle artefacts home and bewitching them?" 

"No." Mr Weasley snapped, his fingers now biting into my shoulder. 

"Hey, how's your son, by the way, Lucio?" I said. 

"It's Lucius -" 

"Last I saw of him, he was living the bisexual life with his hot boyfriend, but, yanno, that's just me. What about you?" I said, my eyes not moving from Malfoy's. 

Fudge looked at Malfoy. Malfoy's eyes narrowed. 

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Harry asked him. 

"I don't think private matters between myself and the Minister are any concern of yours, Potter." Malfoy said finally, smoothing the front of his robes. I distinctly heard the gentle clinking of what sounded like a full pocket of gold. "Really, just because you are Dumbledore's favourite boy, you must not expect the same indulgence from the rest of us..." 

"But you're entitled to know what WE'RE doing?" I scoffed. "Bit full of yourself, aren't you, Malfuck?" 

"It's Malfoy." 

"Sure, Lucianna." 

Malfoy glared at me. "Shall we go up to your office, then, Minister?" 

"Certainly." Fudge said, turning his back on the three of us. "This way, Lucius." 

They strode off together, talking in low voices. Mr Weasley did not let go of my shoulder until they had disappeared into the lift. 

"Why wasn't he waiting outside Fudge's office if they've got business to do together?" Harry burst out furiously. "What was he doing down here?" 

"Trying to sneak down to the courtroom, if you ask me." Mr Weasley said, looking extremely agitated and glancing over his shoulder as though making sure we could not be overheard. "Trying to find out whether you'd been expelled or not. I'll leave a note for Dumbledore when I drop you off, he ought to know Malfoy's been talking to Fudge again." 

We took the lift, and when we stepped out into the now almost-deserted Atrium, Eric the watchwizard was hidden behind his Daily Prophet again. We had walked straight past the golden fountain before I remembered. 

"Wait..." I told Mr Weasley, and, pulling my moneybag from my pocket, I grabbed Harry and turned back to the fountain. 

'Hermione wouldn't like this.' I sent to Harry, and he sniggered. 

'Indeed.' 

'Naturally!' 

With grins at the thought of what Hermione would say if she could see the statue of the elf, we both turned our moneybags upside-down and emptied not just ten Galleons each, but the whole contents into the pool at the statues' feet. 

~~~

"I knew it!" Ron yelled, punching the air. "You always get away with stuff!" 

"They were bound to clear you." Hermione said, who had looked positively faint with anxiety when we had entered the kitchen and was now holding a shaking hand over her eyes. "There was no case against you, none at all." 

"Everyone seems quite relieved, though, considering you all knew we'd get off." I said, smiling. 

"We knew you'd get off, alright." George muttered, and Fred and Terry burst into laughter. 

"Ew, shut up, you lot." I rolled my eyes. 

Mrs Weasley was wiping her face on her apron, and Fred, George, and Terry returned to doing a kind of war dance to a chant that went: "She got off, she got off, she got off -" 

"That's enough! Settle down!" Mr Weasley shouted, though he too was smiling. "Listen, Sirius, Lucius Malfoy was at the Ministry -" 

"What?" Sirius said sharply. 

"She got off, she got off, she got off -" 

"Be quiet, you three! Yes, we saw him talking to Fudge on Level Nine, then they went up to Fudge's office together. Dumbledore ought to know." 

"Absolutely." Sirius said. "We'll tell him, don't worry." 

"Well, I'd better get going, there's a vomiting toilet waiting for me in Bethnal Green. Molly, I'll be late, I'm covering for Tonks, but Kingsley might be dropping in for dinner -" 

"She got off, she got off, she got off -" 

"That's enough - Fred - George - Terry!" Mrs Weasley said, as Mr Weasley left the kitchen. "Daisy, Harry, dears, come and sit down, have some lunch, you hardly ate breakfast..." 

"To be fair, I stuffed myself." I admitted. 

"You can never eat too much, sweetheart. You need your strength!" Mrs Weasley beamed at me. I beamed back. She's been the only adult to not berate me for liking food and not being skinny so far. I mean, no one here has said a word about it, which I'm grateful for, but neighbours back at Privet Drive were very judgemental, and I'm especially grateful to Mrs Weasley for voicing her acceptance and love of me just the way I am. 

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sat themselves down opposite me and Harry, looking happier than they had done since we had first arrived at Grimmauld Place, and my feeling of giddy relief, which had been somewhat dented by my encounter with Lucius Malfoy, swelled again. The gloomy house seemed warmer and more welcoming all of a sudden; even Kreacher looked less ugly as he poked his snoutlike nose into the kitchen to investigate the source of all the noise. 

"'Course, once Dumbledore turned up on your side, there was no way they were going to convict you." Ron said happily, now dishing great mounds of mashed potato on to everyone's plates. 

"Yeah, he swung it for us." Harry said. "I wish he'd talked to us, though." 

"Or even looked at us." I said glumly. 

And as I said this, the scar on my forehead burned so badly that I clapped my hand to it.

"What's up?" Harry and Hermione chorused, looking alarmed. The twins and Terry looked across at me, Fred stepping forward, biting his lip in concern.

"Bloody scar." I mumbled. "But it's nothing... It happens all the time now, basically..." 

None of the others had noticed a thing; all of them were now helping themselves to food while gloating over mine and Harry's narrow escape. Harry and Hermione looked rather anxious, just as the Insurgents returned hesitantly to their singing. But before either my twin or Hermione could say anything, Ron had said happily, "I bet Dumbledore turns up this evening, to celebrate with us, you know." 

"I don't think he'll be able to, Ron." Mrs Weasley said, setting a huge plate of roast chicken down in front of me. "He's really very busy at the moment." 

"SHE GOT OFF, SHE GOT OFF, SHE GOT OFF -" 

"SHUT UP!" Mrs Weasley roared. 

~~~

Over the next few days I could not help noticing that there was one person within number twelve, Grimmauld Place, who did not seem wholly overjoyed that I would be returning to Hogwarts. Sirius had put up a very good show of happiness on first hearing the news, wringing my hand and beaming just like the rest of them. Soon, however, he was moodier and surlier than before, talking less to everybody, even me and Harry, and spending increasing amounts of time shut up in his mother's room with Buckbeak. 

"Don't you go feeling guilty!" Hermione said sternly, after I had confided some of my feelings to her, Harry, Fred, George, Terry, and Ron while we scrubbed out a large mouldy cupboard on the third floor a few days later. "You belong at Hogwarts and Sirius knows it. Personally, I think he's being selfish." 

"That's a bit harsh, Hermione." Ron said, frowning as he attempted to prise off a bit of mould that had attached itself firmly to his finger. "You wouldn't want to be stuck inside this house without any company." 

"He's got his fiancée, hasn't he?" Terry said. 

"Yeah, but she's away a lot of the time." George said. "Doing missions and shit. Bugger's bound to be lonely." 

"I'd want Softpaw around all the time, too." Fred smirked. I elbowed him. 

Harry rolled his eyes. Phew. He just thinks my friend is just fucking around and wants the bants; he doesn't seem to be catching any sort of 'friends with benefits' whiff yet. 

"He'll have company!" Hermione said. "It's Headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix, isn't it? He just got his hopes up that Daisy and Harry would be coming to live here with him." 

"I don't think that's true." Harry said, wringing out his cloth. "He wouldn't give me a straight answer when I asked him if I could." 

"He just didn't want to get his own hopes up even more." Hermione said wisely. "And he probably felt a bit guilty himself, because I think a part of him was really hoping you'd be expelled. Then you'd all be outcasts together."

"Come off it!" Harry and Ron said together, "It's already true," I snuck in, but Hermione merely shrugged. 

"Suit yourselves. But I sometimes think Ron and the twins' mum's right and Sirius gets confused about whether you're you or your father, Daisy." 

"So you think he's touched in the head or something? What the fuck, Mynee?" I said. 

"No, I just think he's been very lonely for a long time." Hermione said simply. 

At this point, Mrs Weasley entered the bedroom behind us. 

"Still not finished?" She said, poking her head into the cupboard. 

"I thought you might be here to tell us to have a break!" Fred said bitterly. "D'you know how much mould we've got rid of since we arrived here? Probably enough to build a new pyramid." 

"Pyramid of Mould." Terry said in an awed voice. 

"You were so keen to help the Order." Mrs Weasley said. "You can do your bit by making Headquarters fit to live in." 

"I feel like a house-elf." Ron grumbled. 

"Well, now you understand what dreadful lives they lead, perhaps you'll be a bit more active in S.P.E.W.!" Hermione said hopefully, as Mrs Weasley left us to it. "You know, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to show people exactly how horrible it is to clean all the time - we could do a sponsored scrub of Gryffindor common room, all proceeds to S.P.E.W., it would raise awareness as well as funds -" 

"I'll sponsor you to shut up about S.P.E.W." Ron muttered irritably, but only so Harry and I could hear him. 

~~~ 

On the very last day of the holidays Fred, George, and I were lounging on George's bed, scrolling through YouTube. 

"Play that one." I said, pointing to the next video on the phone screen. George tapped it, and a 'Super Mario 64 Iceberg' video started playing. It was an hour and a half long. We were all getting comfy to watch it when Terry entered our bedroom carrying a few envelopes. 

"Booklists have arrived, unfortunately." He said, throwing three of the envelopes at us. "Bit weird, like, I thought they'd forgotten, they usually come much earlier than this..." 

George propped his phone carefully on his bedside table and we all glanced at it occasionally as we opened our letters. They contained two pieces of parchment each: one the usual reminder that term started on the first of September; the other telling us which books we would need for the coming year. 

"Only two new ones." I said, reading the list. "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, by Miranda Goshawk, and Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard. Sounds boring as fuck." 

"That means Dumbledore's managed to find a Defence professor." Fred commented, glancing at me before returning his eyes to the iceberg video. 

"Wonder who it is?" I said. 

"Wonder if they're gonna be a dickhead, or an airhead. Or a freaky fuck - that's all we get, I've learned from the past few years." Terry added. 

"Hey! Lupin isn't any of those!" I protested. 

Terry smirked. "I mean, he could be a freaky fuck. We don't know what he's like in bed -" 

"Ew, shut UP, Hopper!" 

"We should go torment our brothers about this." Fred grinned, and reached his finger out to pause the video. 

"I'm always left out. I can't relate to having a brother." Terry grumbled. 

CRACK. 

Fred and George had grasped mine and Terry's arms and Apparated us right beside Harry, who was on a chair sweeping Hedwig's droppings off the top of his wardrobe. He was so used to us doing this by now that he didn't even fall off his chair. 

"We were just wondering who assigned the Slinkhard book." Fred said conversationally. 

"Because it means Dumbledore's found a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." George said. 

"And about time too." Terry said. 

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked, jumping down beside us. 

"Well, we overheard Mum and Dad talking on the Extendable Ears a few weeks back." Fred told Harry. "And from what they were saying, Dumbledore was having real trouble finding anyone to do the job this year." 

"Not surprising, is it, when you look at what's happened to the last four?" I said. 

"One sacked, one dead, one's memory removed, and one locked in a trunk for nine months." Harry said, counting them off on his fingers. "Yeah, I see what you mean." 

"What's up with you, Ron?" Fred asked. 

Ron did not answer. I looked round. Ron was standing very still with his mouth slightly open, gaping at his letter from Hogwarts. 

"What's the matter?" Fred said impatiently, moving around Ron to look over his shoulder at the parchment. 

Fred's mouth fell open, too. 

"Prefect?" He said, staring incredulously at the letter. "PREFECT?" 

George leapt forward, seized the envelope in Ron's other hand and turned it upside-down. I saw something scarlet and gold fall into George's palm. 

"No way." George said in a hushed voice. 

"There's been a mistake." Fred said, snatching the letter out of Ron's grasp and holding it up to the light as though checking for a watermark. "No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect." 

The twins' heads turned in unison and both of them stared at Harry. 

"We thought you were a cert!" Fred said, in a tone that suggested Harry had tricked them in some way. 

"Well, yeah, I also -" Harry sheepishly held up his own letter. 

"Wait, seriously?" I grinned, snatching it from him. A gold and red badge fell out onto my palm, and I gazed at it in shock. A large 'P' was superimposed on the Gryffindor lion. I had seen a badge just like this on Percy's chest on my very first day at Hogwarts. "Okay. Fair enough. Harry's the better-behaved twin here." 

The Insurgents all snorted. 

"What?" I quirked an eyebrow at the three of them. "You don't think I could be a prefect?" 

"Uh..." Fred said slowly. "Yeah, you've caused too much trouble, mate. Just a bit too much." 

"Just a wee teensy bit." George said, as Terry held up his hand, indicting a tiny space in between his fingers. 

I sniggered. "Imagine being a prefect though. So boring." 

"Well, at least one of you's got their priorities right." Fred threw an arm around my shoulders, grinning. I winked at Harry. George strode over to me and clapped me on the back while giving Ron a scathing look. 

"Prefect... ickle Ronnie the prefect..." 

"Oh, Mum's going to be revolting." George groaned, thrusting the prefect badge back at Ron as though it might contaminate him. 

Ron, who still had not said a word, took the badge, stared at it for a moment, then held it out to Harry as though asking mutely for confirmation that it was genuine. Harry nodded. 

The door banged open. Hermione came tearing into the room, her cheeks flushed and her hair flying. There was an envelope in her hand. 

"Did you - did you get -?" 

She spotted the badge in Harry's hand and let out a shriek. 

"I knew it!" She said excitedly, brandishing her letter. "Me too, Harry, me too!" 

"Ginger Idiot got one as well, Mynee." I said. 

"He - what?" 

"Ron's prefect too!" Harry said. 

"Ron?" Hermione said, her jaw dropping. "But... are you sure? I mean -" 

She turned red as Ron looked round at her with a defiant expression on his face. 

"It's my name on the letter." He said. 

"I..." Hermione said, looking thoroughly bewildered. "I... well... wow! Well done, Ron! That's really -"

"Unexpected." George said, nodding. 

"No." Hermione said, blushing harder than ever. "No it's not... Ron's done loads of... he's really..." 

The door behind her opened a little wider and Mrs Weasley backed into the room carrying a pile of freshly laundered robes. 

"Ginny said the booklists had come at last." She said, glancing around at all the envelopes as she made her way over to the bed and started sorting the robes into two piles. "If you give them to me I'll take them over to Diagon Alley this afternoon and get your books while you're packing. Ron, I'll have to get you more pyjamas, these are at least six inches too short, I can't believe how fast you're growing... what colour would you like?" 

"Get him red and gold to match his badge." George said, smirking. 

"Match his what?" Mrs Weasley said absently, rolling up a pair of maroon socks and placing them on Ron's pile. 

"His badge." Fred said, with the air of getting the worst over quickly. "His lovely shiny new prefect's badge." 

Fred's words took a moment to penetrate Mrs Weasley's preoccupation with pyjamas. 

"His... but... Ron, you're not...?" 

Ron held up his badge. 

Mrs Weasley let out a shriek just like Hermione's. 

"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 neighbours?" George said 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! Oh, what a thing to happen in the middle of all this worry, I'm just thrilled, oh, Ronnie -" 

Fred and George were both making loud retching noises behind her back but Mrs Weasley did not notice; arms tight around Ron's neck, she was kissing him all over his face, which had turned a brighter scarlet than his badge. 

"Mum... don't... Mum, get a grip..." He muttered, trying to push her away. 

"Ronniekins, that's your mother you're talking to." I scolded him, restraining my sniggers. 

She let go of him and said breathlessly, "Well, what will it be? We gave Percy an owl, but you've already got one, of course." 

"W-what do you mean?" Ron said, looking as though he did not dare believe his ears. 

"You've got to have a reward for this!" Mrs Weasley said fondly. "How about a nice new set of dress robes?" 

"We've already bought him some." Fred said sourly, who looked as though he sincerely regretted this generosity. 

"Or a new cauldron, Charlie's old one's rusting through, or a new rat, you always liked Scabbers -" 

"Mum," Ron said hopefully, "can I have a new broom?" 

Mrs Weasley's face fell slightly; broomsticks were expensive. 

"Not a really good one!" Ron hastened to add. "Just - just a new one for a change..." 

Mrs Weasley hesitated, then smiled. 

"Of course you can... Well, I'd better get going if I've got a broom to buy too. I'll see you all later... Little Ronnie, a prefect! And don't forget to pack your trunks... A prefect... Oh, I'm all of a dither!" 

She gave Ron yet another kiss on the cheek, sniffed loudly, and bustled from the room. 

Fred and George exchanged looks. 

"You don't mind if we don't kiss you, do you, Ron?" Fred said in a falsely anxious voice. 

"We could curtsey, if you like." George said as Terry bowed deeply. 

"Come here and I'll give you a wee kiss on the cheek, Ronnie." I mimed smooching the air. 

"Oh, shut up." Ron said, scowling at us four. He'd gone a deep shade of red from my jest at him. 

'I wish she would kiss me, on the lips instead of the cheek...' 

I blinked, biting back a snigger. I'd forgotten how my Grace randomly allowed me to read minds without my intention, causing people's thoughts to just drift into my head without any warning. 

"Or what?" Fred was saying, an evil grin spreading across his face. "Going to put us in detention?" 

"I'd love to see him try." George sniggered. 

"He could if you don't watch out!" Hermione said angrily. 

Fred, George, Terry, and I burst out laughing, and Ron muttered, "Drop it, Hermione." 

"We're going to have to watch our step, Softpaw, Bushy, Hopper," Fred said, pretending to tremble, "with these two on our case..." 

"Yeah, it looks like our law-breaking days are finally over." I said, shaking my head. 

And with another loud CRACK, the twins grabbed mine and Terry's arms again and Disapparated. 

We all exchanged glances, then roared with laughter. I was bending over with Terry, us both clutching at our stomachs, tears streaming down the Ravenclaw's face. 

~~~ 

It was odd how widely our possessions seemed to have scattered themselves since we had arrived. It took us most of the afternoon to retrieve our books and belongings from all over the house and stow them back inside our school trunks. When I hung out with Harry, I noticed that Ron kept moving his prefect's badge around, first placing it on his bedside table, then putting it into his jeans pocket, then taking it out and lying it on his folded robes, as though to see the effect of the red on the black. Only when I offered to attach it to his forehead with a Permanent Sticking Charm did he wrap it tenderly in his maroon socks and lock it in his trunk. 

Mrs Weasley returned from Diagon Alley around six o'clock, laden with books and carrying a long package wrapped in thick brown paper that Ron took from her with a moan of longing (which Terry and I mocked exaggeratedly). 

"Never mind unwrapping it now, people are arriving for dinner, I want you all downstairs." She said, but the moment she was out of sight Ron ripped off the paper in a frenzy and examined every inch of his new broom, an ecstatic expression on his face. 

Down in the basement Mrs Weasley had hung a scarlet banner over the heavily laden dinner table, which read 'CONGRATULATIONS RON, HARRY, AND HERMIONE - NEW PREFECTS.' She looked in a better mood than I had seen her all holiday. 

"I thought we'd have a little party not a sit-down dinner." She told me, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Terry, and Ginny as we entered the room. "Your father and Bill are on their way, Ron. I've sent them both owls and they're thrilled." She added, beaming. 

Fred rolled his eyes. 

Sirius, Emily, Lupin, Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt were already there and Mad-Eye Moody stumped in shortly after I had got myself a Butterbeer. 

"Oh, Alastor, I am glad you're here." Mrs Weasley said brightly, as Mad-Eye shrugged off his travelling cloak. "We've been wanting to ask you for ages - could you have a look in the writing desk in the drawing room and tell us what's inside it? We haven't wanted to open it just in case it's something really nasty." 

"No problem, Molly..." 

Moody's electric-blue eye swivelled upwards and stared fixedly through the ceiling of the kitchen. 

"Drawing room..." He growled, as the pupil contracted. "Desk in the corner? Yeah, I see it... Yeah, it's a Boggart... Want me to go up and get rid of it, Molly?" 

"No, no, I'll do it myself later." Mrs Weasley beamed. "You have your drink. We're having a little bit of a celebration, actually..." She gestured at the scarlet banner. "Fourth prefect in the family!" She said fondly, ruffling Ron's hair. 

"Prefect, eh?" Moody growled. "Well, congratulations. Authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn't have appointed you..." 

Ron looked rather startled at this view of the matter as I cackled, but was saved the trouble of responding by the arrival of his father and eldest brother. Mrs Weasley was in such a good mood she did not even complain that they had brought Mundungus with them; he was wearing a long overcoat that seemed oddly lumpy in unlikely places and declined the offer to remove it and put it with Moody's travelling cloak. 

"Well, I think a toast is in order." Mr Weasley said, when everyone had a drink. He raised his goblet. "To Ron, Harry, and Hermione, the new Gryffindor prefects!" 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione beamed as everyone drank to them, and then applauded. 

"I was never a prefect myself." Tonks said brightly from behind me as everybody moved towards the table to help themselves to food. Her hair was tomato red and waist-length today; she looked like Ginny's older sister. "My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities." 

"Like what?" Ginny said, who was choosing a baked potato. 

"Like the ability to behave myself." Tonks said. 

"Same." Emily said. 

Ginny laughed; Hermione looked as though she did not know whether to smile or not and compromised by taking an extra large gulp of Butterbeer and choking on it. 

"What about you, Sirius?" Ginny asked, thumping Hermione on the back. 

Sirius, who was right beside me, let out his usual bark-like laugh. 

"No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge." 

"I think Dumbledore might have hoped I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends." Lupin said. "I need scarcely say that I failed dismally." 

My father had not been a prefect either. Obviously.

Mrs Weasley and Bill were having their usual argument about Bill's hair. 

"...Getting really out of hand, and you're so good-looking, it would look much better shorter, wouldn't it, Daisy?" 

"Oh - I dunno -" I said, slightly alarmed at being asked my opinion; I slid away from them in the direction of Fred, George, and Terry, who were huddled in a corner with Mundungus. 

"Look what Dung's got us." George said, holding out his hand to me. It was full of what looked like shrivelled black pods. A faint rattling noise was coming from them, even though they were completely stationary. 

"Venomous Tentacula seeds." George said. 

"Oh, yeah, those." I nodded. "We need them for the Skiving Snackboxes." 

"Why were we having such trouble getting hold of them?" Terry moaned, picking up a pod and kissing it. "Beauties." 

"Class C Non-Tradeable Substance, mate." I said. 

"Ten Galleons the lot, then, Dung?" Fred said. 

"Wiv all the trouble I went to to get 'em?" Mundungus said, his saggy, bloodshot eyes stretching even wider. "I'm sorry, lads, but I'm not taking a Knut under twenty." 

"Dung likes his little joke." Fred said to me. 

"Yeah, his best one so far has been six Sickles for a bag of Knarl quills." George said. 

"Be careful." I warned them quietly, sending a quick wink the Insurgents' way. 

"What?" Fred said, winking back. "Mum's busy cooing over Prefect Ron, we're okay." 

"But Mad-Eye could have his eye on us." I pointed out. 

Mundungus looked nervously over his shoulder. 

"Good point, that." He grunted. "All right, lads, ten it is, if you'll take 'em quick." 

"Cheers, Softpaw!" Fred said delightedly, when Mundungus had emptied his pockets into the twins' outstretched hands and scuttled off towards the food. "We'd better get these upstairs..." 

Us four hurried off upstairs, chattering excitedly. Once in our room, the twins poured the pods into Fred's bedside drawer, then pulled out George's phone and started the Super Mario 64 iceberg video at the place we paused it, me using my Grace to make it hover in the air in front of us as we all lounged back on Terry's bed, our arms around each other and our legs all tangled together. 

Eventually, though, it was time for bed, and Terry was taking his daily nighttime shower. I groaned, really badly needing a piss, and snuck out the door and down the corridor. I darted into a fancy old bathroom, relieving myself with a pleasured sigh, and tip-toed back out. However, as I approached the first landing I heard noises. Someone was sobbing in the drawing room. 

"Hello?" I said. 

There was no answer but the sobbing continued. I climbed the remaining stairs two at a time, walked across the landing, and opened the drawing-room door. 

Someone was cowering against the dark wall, her wand in her hand, her whole body shaking with sobs. Sprawled on the dusty old carpet in a patch of moonlight, clearly dead, were the twins. 

All the air seemed to vanish from my lungs; I felt as though I was falling through the floor; my brain turned icy cold - Fred and George dead, no, it couldn't be - 

But wait a moment, it couldn't be - the twins were upstairs - 

"Mrs Weasley?" I croaked. 

"R-r-riddikulus!" Mrs Weasley sobbed, pointing her shaking wand at Fred and George's bodies. 

CRACK. 

The twins' bodies turned into Bill's, spread-eagled on his back, his eyes wide open and empty. Mrs Weasley sobbed harder than ever. 

"R-riddikulus!" She sobbed again. 

CRACK. 

Mr Weasley's body replaced Bill's, his glasses askew, a trickle of blood running down his face. 

"No!" Mrs Weasley moaned. "No... riddikulus! Riddikulus! RIDDIKULUS!" 

CRACK. 

Dead Ron.

CRACK. 

Dead Percy.

CRACK. 

Dead Harry. 

"Riddikulus!" I stepped forward, my hand thrust out. My hand shone white, but Harry turned into Riddle, who was standing upright, tall, his dark hair slicked back in a slight quiff, his eyes gleaming red and evil, his mouth quirked in a little smirk... 

I took a shaky step back as Riddle approached. 

"R-riddikulus!" I said. 

Riddle turned into Floppy, which wasn't any better, really. Floppy's sadistic smirk twisted his face, his eyes glinting maliciously, as he strode across the room towards me. 

"Riddikulus!" Mrs Weasley cried again. 

CRACK. 

Floppy turned into Dead Me sprawled across the floor. 

"Mrs Weasley, just get out of here!" I said, staring down at my own dead body on the floor. "Let someone else -" 

"What's going on?" 

Fred, George, Terry, Harry, and Lupin had come running into the room, closely followed by Sirius and Emily, with Moody stumping along behind them. Everyone's eyes went immediately towards my dead body on the floor. 

"Fuck - fuck! Daisy -!" Fred's voice sounded strangely high-pitched and strangled. 

"Riddikulus!" I shouted. 

The dead body on the floor turned into Riddle again, who was moving quickly across the room towards me, his eyes fixated on me, his smirk twisting cruelly across his face. I stepped back, only to find that my back had now hit the wall. I cringed against it, flattening myself into it, slowly sliding down it as Riddle approached. 

"Riddikulus!" Fred's voice came firmly and clearly. Riddle froze, turning into George in a clown outfit. Fred flicked his wand, and clown-George disappeared in a puff of smoke. 

"Nice." George said, his voice shaky, and high-fived Fred. 

"Oh - oh - oh!" Mrs Weasley gulped, and she broke into a storm of crying, her face in her hands. 

"Molly." Lupin said bleakly, walking over to her. "Molly, don't..." 

Next second, she was sobbing her heart out on Lupin's shoulder. 

"Molly, it was just a Boggart." He said soothingly, patting her on the head. "Just a stupid Boggart..." 

"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..." 

Sirius, Harry, George, and Terry were staring at the patch of carpet where the Boggart, pretending to be my body, had lain. Moody and Emily were looking at me, and I avoided their gazes.

Fred had crossed the room and, throwing an anxious glance back at his mother, scooped me up. "Hey, it's okay. Everything's okay. He wasn't really here. It wasn't him. He can't hurt you here. He can't get you." 

"I - I know..." I breathed, clutching him. I rested my head on his shoulder, briefly shutting my eyes. Fred threaded his fingers through my hair, and I took a deep breath. 

"D-d-don't tell Arthur." Mrs Weasley was gulping now, mopping her eyes frantically with her cuffs. "I d-d-don't want him to know... Being silly..." 

Lupin handed her a handkerchief and she blew her nose. 

"Daisy, I'm so sorry. What must you think of me?" She said shakily. "Not even able to get rid of a Boggart..." 

"Don't be silly." I said, trying to smile. "I couldn't get rid of the fuckin' thing either." 

"I'm just s-s-so worried." She said, tears spilling out of her eyes again. "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've never m-m-made it up with him? And what's going to happen if Arthur and I get killed, who's g-g-going to look after Ron and Ginny?"

"Molly, that's enough." Lupin said firmly. "This isn't like last time. The Order are better prepared, we've got a head start, we know what Voldemort's up to -" 

Mrs Weasley gave a little squeak of fright at the sound of the name. 

"Oh, Molly, come on, it's about time you got used to hearing his name - look, I can't promise no one's going to get hurt, nobody can promise that, but we're much better off than we were last time. You weren't in the Order then, you don't understand. Last time we were outnumbered twenty to one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off one by one..." 

"Don't worry about Percy." Sirius said abruptly. "He'll come round. It's only a matter of time before Voldemort moves into the open; once he does, the whole Ministry's going to be begging us to forgive them. And I'm not sure I'll be accepting their apology." He added bitterly. 

"And as for who's going to look after Ron and Ginny if you and Arthur died," Lupin said, smiling slightly, "what do you think we'd do, let them starve?" 

Mrs Weasley smiled tremulously. 

"Being silly." She muttered again, mopping her eyes. 

"Come on." Fred lifted me up gently, carrying me out of the room with the others, and the Insurgents marched us up to our room. Harry followed, fussing, and the four sat around me as Fred cuddled me, Terry's wet hair from the shower dripping onto me, Harry's comforting hand in mine, George's soft murmuring, all contributing to the deep sleep that I soon slipped into.