Chapter Eighteen.

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"Congratulations, 'Mione," (Y/n) mused as Hermione did a little happy dance around the room, clutching her prefect badge to her chest.

"Can't imagine who else would've been made the Gryffindor prefect, though," Ginny murmured under her breath. "No offence to them, but Lavender and Parvati aren't all that responsible, are they?.. Wonder who was made as Hermione's counterpart. My money's on Dean."

"Hm. Dean is the most responsible Gryffindor in their year, isn't he?" (Y/n) agreed. She didn't seem to fully be in there and she was, in fact, not fully there. She was listening in on the boys' funeral. "But Ron and Harry are Dumbledore's favourites."

"True," Ginny grinned. "Want me to take your school lists down to Mum?"

"Yes, please," the girls chorused.

"Ooh, can you ask your mum to pick up my shipment of fabric?" (Y/n) asked. "I put in the order via owl a week ago specifically so that it would arrive around the time we went shopping."

"Yeah, I will," Ginny agreed, taking hers, Hermione's, and (Y/n)'s shopping lists before heading from the room.

"Let's go tell Ron and Harry," Hermione said excitedly. She took (Y/n)'s wrist and tugged her along to the boys' room before throwing open the door and tearing into the room. (Y/n) rolled her wrist as she held it in her other hand.
"Did you— did you get—?" Hermione 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!"

"No," said Harry quickly, pushing the badge back into Ron's hand. "It's Ron, not me."

"It— what?"

"Ron's prefect, not me," Harry said.

"Congratulations, Ron," (Y/n) said genuinely.

"Ron?" said Hermione, her jaw dropping. "But... are you sure? I mean—" Her face grew hot as Ron looked around at her with a defiant expression on his face.

"It's my name on the letter," Ron said.

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

"Unexpected," said George, nodding.

"No," said Hermione, her face warmer than ever, "no, it's not... Ron's done loads of... he's really..."
The door behind her opened a little wider and Molly backed into the room, carrying a pile of freshly laundered robes.

"Ginny said the booklists had come at last," Molly 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," said George, smirking.

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

"His badge," said Fred with the air of getting the worst over quickly. "His lovely shiny new prefect's badge."
Fred's words took a moment to penetrate Molly's preoccupation with pyjamas.

"His... but... Ron, you're not..?" Ron held up his badge. "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?" 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! 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 Molly did not notice; arms tight around Ron's neck, she was kissing him all over the face, which had turned a brighter scarlet than his badge.

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