Thanks to everybody who commented on the H/D, I'm glad you liked it as much as me. Can you believe that was my first slash? I've written het smut for awhile, but never explicit slash before. *squee*
Anyway, here's the Head Boy ficlet i've been teasing sociofemme about for days. Who gets to be Head Boy and Head Girl Harry's 7th Year? ARRR, there be mayhem ahead! *ivyblossom's Dad's favorite phrase made it in here--thanks, Ivy!*
Harry noted with interest that his seventh and final Hogwarts letter seemed a bit heavier than usual. He slit the envelope and shook the contents out. Out fell the usual sheets of parchments with his timetable, book list, and the welcome back drivel.
And a shiny, gold pin.
Heart beating in his throat, he picked it up to see the Gryffindor lion curled around a capital ‘H’.
He was still staring at it a minute later when Ron came in.
“Got your letter, did you?” Ron asked cheerfully. “Say, did you…”
Ron stopped short as he saw what Harry was staring at. There was a moment of tense silence, then Ron let out a whoop.
“Head Boy!” he crowed. He leaned out the door and shouted down the stairs, “Mom, Ginny, Harry’s made HEAD BOY!”
That snapped Harry out of it.
“Ron, don’t,” Harry yanked him back in to the room, flushing. “You aren’t upset?”
“Upset?” Ron stared at Harry. “I’m ecstatic! D’you think I really wanted to be Head Boy after all the fuss of me being Prefect? Do you have any idea what Fred and George would have done to me? You can have it!”
“Um, thanks,” Harry suddenly felt a bit less enthusiastic.
“Besides, I’m taken, aren’t I?” Ron shrugged. “It’s not like I can use the services of the Head Girl.”
“What?” Harry asked, staring at Ron uncomprehendingly.
“Honestly, Harry,” Ron snickered. “Why d’you think she’s called the HEAD Girl?”
“Er, right,” Harry looked back down at the pin. The lion seemed to be grinning ferally all of a sudden.
* * * * * *
They met Hermione at Diagon Alley that Saturday for their very last school supply expedition. Ron was exuberant, but Harry noticed Hermione was a bit subdued. While Ron ran ahead to glue his nose to the glass and drool over the new racing brooms, Harry lagged behind to ask what the matter was.
“Oh, nothing,” Hermione said briskly. “It’s just…I was sure I’d make Head Girl.”
“You aren’t Head Girl?” Harry was stunned. “But…oh, bullocks, it had better not be Pansy. I’m not putting up with her tripe all year!”
“Putting up with…” Hermione narrowed her eyes. “You’re Head Boy, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Harry admitted grudgingly.
“Harry!” Hermione looked stung. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s embarrassing,” Harry mumbled. “Ron’s mum’s been going on about it all week, I’m fairly well sick of it by now.”
“So they didn’t tell you who’s got Head Girl then?” Hermione asked, furrowing her brow.
“The letter didn’t say,” Harry shrugged.
“Seems a bit suspicious to me,” Hermione pressed her lips together.
“Maybe they just didn’t want you owl-bombing the poor girl,” Ron interrupted, popping up in front of them.
“Ron!” Harry and Hermione exclaimed at once.
“Oh relax,” Ron rolled his eyes, as he slipped his arm through Hermione’s. “It’ll give you more time for me and the library, right? Come on, I told Fred and George we’d stop by.”
Looking slightly mollified, Hermione let Ron drag her into Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes.
Inside they found Fred wrapping up an economy-sized package of Exploding Charcoals (“Not for the Faint of Art”) for Seamus Finnigan.
“Oi, Finnigan!” Ron called. “What are you up to?”
“I’m going to slip them into Dean’s sketchbox one a time all year,” Seamus grinned wickedly. “He’s going to go absolutely mad!”
Fred came around the counter and handed Seamus his change. Seamus waved and slipped out the door.
“I love back to school!” Fred beamed. “Sales are booming! And everything’s selling too!”
Hermione stifled a giggle while Ron and Harry rolled their eyes.
“Oi, George!” Fred yelled towards the storage room. “The Prefects are here for a visit!”
“Oh?” George’s muffled voice came from the back, and second later there was a loud CRACK and the other twin Apparated nearly into Harry, sending him nearly into a display of Weasleys’ Wildfire Whiz-Bangs.
“No you don’t!” Fred exclaimed, grabbing Harry by the shirt just in time to keep him from knocking over the whole stack. The display wobbled for a second, but only one sparkler toppled to the ground.
It ignited in blue sparks, and a little cloud floated up, spelling the word “Shuckaroos”.
“Oh, bloody hell,” Fred swore, watching the ‘obscenity’ float out the door. “I THOUGHT that batch seemed a bit weak…I was hoping they’d get stronger after they hardened.”
“Have to make a new batch then,” George shrugged. “Now, about you,” he pointed at Ron. “Have you gone and embarrassed the family again?”
“Nope!” Ron grinned. “Still a Prefect!”
“Me too,” Hermione added, sounding a tad less enthused.
“Excellent!” Fred exclaimed, slapping Ron on the back. “No more Big Head Boys in THIS family, no SIR! Sorry, Hermione, Big Head Girls, either…”
Harry coughed. Fred and George ceased mid-whoop.
“Oh, no,” George said. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
Harry sighed and nodded.
“Buck up,” Fred said encouragingly. “At least we know Malfoy didn’t get it.”
“This calls for a celebration!” George announced. He leaned over the counter and brought out a box of sparklers that looked suspiciously like the kind Harry had just knocked over.
“We can curse on our own, thanks,” Hermione informed them.
“No, no,” Fred assured her. “These are a new brand, Celebrational Sparklers for birthday parties and graduations! They’re still experimental, but go on and try them!”
Hermione, Ron, and Harry all dubiously chose a sparkler and set them off.
Ron’s said ‘BRILLIANT!’
Hermione’s said ‘HUZZAH!’
Harry’s said ‘TICKLED UP THE BUM!’
“Fred!” George cried in exasperation, “I’ve told you over and over, you can’t reuse the same cauldron for these after you’ve made the erotic ones!”
“I rather like that one,” Fred sniffed.
“Erotic ones?” Ron asked, looking intrigued.
“Don’t even THINK about it,” Hermione threatened him flatly.
* * * * * *
Hermione brought up the topic of Head Girl again as they were settling their things into a compartment on the Hogwarts Express.
“I suppose we’ll find out who it is in a minute at the prefect meeting,” she sighed.
“She won’t be half as good as you, whoever she is,” Ron said loyally.
Hermione gazed at him adoringly, and Harry privately thought that Ron could afford to be loyal, now that he knew his Hermione time wasn’t being threatened.
“Come on,” he said. “We’d better go.”
As they were about to enter the Prefects car, Draco came swishing up the corridor from the other end of the train, his smirk even bigger than usual.
“Here’s your chance!” Ron cackled. “He can’t boss you around this year, Harry! Rub it in for all it’s worth!”
“Hello, Malfoy,” Harry said evenly, thinking rather similar thoughts himself.
“Lost, Potter?” Malfoy sneered. “This is the Prefects’ compartment, not the Terminal Loser seating!”
“Oh, I think it’s you that will be getting lost shortly,” Harry responded with a feral smile. He puffed his chest slightly so that Malfoy would be sure to catch the glint of his Head Boy Badge.
Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, then his eyes narrowed.
“Potter,” he said, voice gone dangerously quiet, “what’s that on your robe?”
“It’s my…” Harry started, then noticed a similar, silver glint on Malfoy’s robe.
Emanating from silver ‘H’ with a serpent curled around it.
“YOU’RE the Head GIRL?!” Draco and Ron exclaimed at the same time.
“Oh bollocks,” Harry swore.
* * * * * *
Within five minutes of entering Hogwarts, Harry and Draco were demanding to be let in to Dumbledore’s office to see the Headmaster himself. McGonagall and Snape were standing by the gargoyle already, both looking rather irate themselves.
“Rice Pudding!” McGonagall told the gargoyle sharply, her lips pressed together so tightly they were nearly invisible.
Dumbledore didn’t even bat an eye when the four of them stormed in, as if he had expected this very scene to play out before him.
“Has it escaped your notice,” Draco shouted without preamble, “that we’re both MALE?!”
“I assure you, Mr. Malfoy, that it has not,” Dumbledore replied placidly.
“We can’t both be Head Boy!” Harry added loudly.
“The school by-laws only state that two students shall be chosen each year to head the student body,” Dumbledore informed them casually. “They do not specify which gender those two students must be.”
“But…” Harry, Draco, McGonagall, and Snape all exclaimed at once.
“I assure you,” Dumbledore interrupted them, “I have given much thought to the choice of Head Students this year, and I am confidant that I have chosen the best candidates possible in Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy. Now, the Sorting will begin shortly,” Dumbledore stood up and ushered the four spluttering visitors out the door, “so we had all better be on our way, hmm?”
Harry and Draco paused to glare at each other as the three professors disappeared down the hall towards the Feast.
“My father is going to hear about this!” Draco snarled loudly down the hall.
“What’s your father going to do?” Harry asked nastily. “Tell his prison penpal?”
Draco whirled to jab Harry in the chest with an accusatory finger.
“You just stay out of my way, Potter until this is all sorted out!” Draco barked in his face. “And if I hear one word about utilizing my services as HEAD Boy, I’ll make YOU Head Girl, and then there won’t BE a problem!”
Draco stormed off down the hall and Harry gave an irritated snort.
“This is going to be a LONG year,” he sighed to no one in particular.