Sunday morning Harry decided to have a bit of a lie in. Which, considering the time he normally got up, was still pretty early. After spending a few moments in bed "thinking" (he really needed to find the time to go out soon), Harry got up to get ready for the day. Seeing as it was still early, he decided to pamper himself a bit and headed out to the prefects' bathroom, his bath things in tow. Of course, he made sure to check for the presence of a certain voyeuristic ghost using his map before going there. Perhaps Myrtle hadn't yet moved on because she hadn't shagged yet? Harry blanched at the thought of a live person actually doing the deed with a ghost ... he shook his head violently to rid himself of those thoughts. That really was disturbing! Though it would explain why she was still hanging around after having haunted that schoolmate of hers, Olive Horny-something-or-the-other ... Harry hit his head with his hand repeatedly, trying to beat out the more disturbing images of a physical relationship with a ghost and a live person that started to invade his mind.
He eventually managed to get those thoughts out of his head half way through his bath using Occlumency. Though, he was considering using a memory charm on himself.
Now, feeling better after having finally removed the last vestiges of slime from his scalp that last night's cleaning charm and bath hadn't been able to reach, Harry ambled toward the Great Hall, remembering at the last minute that he wasn't supposed to know about Professor McGonagall's summons.
He bumped into a slightly frantic looking Neville Longbottom as soon as he stepped inside the door.
'Alright, Neville?' he said cheerfully with a grin on his face.
'Harry! There you are! I've been looking all over for you!' said Neville, relief taking over the frantic expression on his face.
'Why were you looking for me?'
'McGonagall wants to see you today after breakfast at ten. Where were you anyway? The girls and I waited for you outside but didn't find you. Eventually we had to continue without you.'
'McGonagall wants me? Whatever for?' said Harry with false bafflement. 'I took the day off by the way. The week was rather hectic and I figured that a day won't hurt me any. After all, I've been at it since the beginning of summer!'
'Oh,' said Neville at this. He shrugged and said, 'McGonagall didn't say what she wanted with you, but she didn't sound well pleased. For some reason she's told the prefects to come as well.'
Harry looked over Neville's shoulder at the staff table hoping to spot Professor McGonagall there. Spotting her, he noted that she had a pretty stern expression on her face. Then again, she always looked stern.
Figuring that it would be a good idea, Harry stared off into the distance putting on a perturbed look on his face. Or at least he hoped it was a perturbed look. He hadn't done perturbed before. He had done hesitant, and was a master of the meek look, but he never had done perturbed.
Apparently it worked since Neville didn't call him out on it when he finally asked the other boy if he had breakfast. Neville shook his head in response and the two of them went to the Hufflepuff table where they joined Susan and Hannah along with the others from Ravenclaw and Slytherin.
Harry shortly found out that most of the school, through means that still eluded him, had found out about the meeting he would be having with Professor McGonagall and all the Gryffindor prefects as they all started asking him questions ranging from 'what nefarious plot have you uncovered today Potter?' to, 'Just what did you do to piss off old McGonagall so much that she's called all the prefects too?' accompanied with expressions ranging from mocking to concerned.
Harry waited for all the questioners to subside before speaking, 'I have no idea why McGonagall wants to meet me today, and I have less of an idea as to why she called all the house prefects. And no Zabini, I haven't done anything recently to piss off McGonagall. I mean it isn't like I killed Filch and his cat. And please don't call her "old McGonagall" again. It reminds me of a song I'd rather forget.'
'You killed Filch's cat?' asked Ernie incredulously just as Justin Finch-Fletchley suddenly started laughing.
'Oh, sorry,' said Justin still chuckling. 'I just got Harry's bit about the song. It's a Muggle thing. More specifically it's a Yank Muggle thing. Not a very good joke though.' At the still blank looks on his friends' faces, he hastily changed the subject, 'so Harry, you killed Filch's cat?'
Harry groaned at this, 'No I didn't kill Filch or his cat!' he said irritably. 'The miserable sod is still alive along with that rabid flea-bitten walking used up dishrag he calls a cat. Unless Fang's caught up with her ... in which case I'd better go talk to Hagrid. He's not going to like it if his dog dies of indigestion.' That generated a few laughs from the rest of the group.
As it got closer to ten, Harry got up from the Hufflepuff table and headed up the first floor towards Professor McGonagall's office. He was shortly joined by Hermione and Ron who was hastily smoothing his still damp hair.
'Hey guys, where were the two of you? Don't you know that McGonagall wants to talk to us soon?' said Harry innocently.
'Where were you?' asked Ron indignantly completely missing the joke. 'We looked everywhere for you! You weren't in bed, the common room or in the bathroom! And I missed breakfast!'
Harry brought his hand up to his chin and looked at Ron with exaggerated thoughtfulness. 'Did you check the Great Hall?' he asked slowly, speaking as if he had just had a great idea. Seeing their dumbfounded looks he carried on in the same vein, 'I get up early every morning.' He then addressed the empty space of air next to him as if there was someone invisible there, 'You'd think people would notice given that they have spent an entire summer with me but noooo.' He paused for a moment and looked at Ron suspiciously, 'And how would you know I wasn't in the bathroom? Did you actually go checking every stall to see if I was there? I understand you are my best friend Ron, but this is ... going beyond ...' he paused with a slightly disgusted look on his face, 'I don't think I'm ready to go further here. It's not you,' he said reassuringly, 'it's me ... I just have an aversion to flat chests ... and penises.'
'Oh, get your mind out of the gutter and grow up Harry!' said Hermione disapprovingly while Ron scowled.
'Grow up? You mean further? Hermione, Hermione, Hermione,' said Harry shaking his head as he started forward to Professor McGonagall's office. 'I've grown up as much as possible. I should tell you now that this is as far as any bloke is going to grow mentally. I'm going to be sixteen till I die!' he declared grandly.
'Very clever Harry,' said Hermione sarcastically, 'using a pop song to make a joke.'
'Sorry?' said Harry as he and Ron looked at her quizzically.
'Oh don't act daft Harry Potter! You know which song I'm talking about!' Seeing the blank expression still on both the boys' faces she rolled her eyes, 'Bryan Adams! Seriously, haven't you heard him? Eighteen till I die, Summer of Sixty-Nine ...'
'Oh, he's Muggle,' said Ron with a look of dawning comprehension on his face that was mirrored by Harry.
'No, I haven't heard of him,' said Harry, 'though he doesn't seem that creative since he's using numbers to name his songs. Come to think of it, he sounds pretty old too with a major midlife crisis.' With that he knocked on Professor McGonagall's office door.
Hermione's reply (and it looked to be an indignant one judging by the look on her face. Harry mused that she might be a major fan of this Bryan bloke) was interrupted as Professor McGonagall called them inside her office after Harry knocked on the door.
'Good to see you here on time Mr. Potter, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. The others haven't arrived yet so we will have to wait for them ... please, be seated,' she indicated the seven straight backed uncomfortable looking chairs that had been arranged in front of her desk. Ron and Hermione sat down first, in the two chairs in the middle.
'Mr. Potter, if you please, I'd like to have all my prefects sitting together,' said Professor McGonagall an unreadable expression on her face as she indicated to a seat to the far side of the desk practically next to her. Harry noted that the chair he was sitting in definitely was more comfortable than it looked.
'Come in,' Professor McGonagall called out as someone knocked on the door. Seeing that the other prefects had arrived by then she said crisply, 'you are late. Sit down quickly so we can start. I want to get this over with so I can enjoy my Sunday. And yes, Mr. Weasley, we teachers do have a life outside teaching.' She said the last bit upon spotting and correctly interpreting the look of momentary surprise on Ron's face, causing the red head to blush.
As the other prefects sat down, Harry wondered if there was any significance to having all the prefects situated together right in front of professor McGonagall with Ron and Hermione flanked by the seventh and fifth year prefects with him seated to the side, almost facing them.
'Now first order of business, I want your written reports for the week, so if you please?' her voice trailed off expectantly. In response, all the other prefects pulled out a sheet of parchment.
'Mr. Weasley, where is your report?' Professor McGonagall asked when Ron didn't hand his in, the glint in her eyes as she asked the question belied the casual tone that she used.
Ron gulped. The last time he had seen that kind of a glint was in Bellatrix's eyes when Harry had insulted Voldemort in front of her.
'Er- I-Ileftitbehindinthedorm' he said hurriedly as sweat broke out on his forehead.
'Sorry? Do repeat yourself Weasley, I didn't quite catch that.' Said McGonagall, however, the look in her eyes suggested that she had, in fact, caught what Ron had said.
Harry felt a bit of sympathy for his friend as the ginger sat there practically sweating blood. Of course, that sympathy did not extend to helping him out. McGonagall was scary. And that was on an average day. Right now, with her lips having nearly vanished and her nostrils flared she looked positively demonic as she looked at a squirming Ron looking remarkably like the Hungarian Horntail that Harry had faced in his fourth year. He should know ... he had the model on his bedside table.
'Um, I, er, didn't get it professor,' said Ron hesitantly. 'You see, I forgot it 'cause I was in a hurry-' he stuttered to a halt as the expression on Professor McGonagall got stormier and stormier to the point that if Hagrid had walked in right now, he might have thought that his dreams had come true and that the Headmaster had finally let a dragon in the school.
'You mean to tell me Mr. Weasley that you forgot to get your report, despite having been told that there was going to be a meeting of all the prefects today, and that too when I told you last night?' Her voice turned deadly at this point.
'Um, I was busy looking for Harry to tell him about the meeting, ma'am. Both Hermione and I were searching for ages! We only found him a few minutes back! So because of that I forgot to get the report.' Ron rambled on defensively, his ears going red.
Professor McGonagall looked at Ron for a minute, her expression not changing one bit, 'Mr. Weasley, do you take me for a fool? I have been teaching in this school for nearly thirty years now, and I have even taught your parents when they were students themselves. I can see from your still damp hair that you just recently finished your bath. I also did not see you in the Great Hall despite the fact that I was there for nearly two hours. I also know for a fact that you haven't even had breakfast judging by the sounds your stomach is making. If you truly had been up early enough, you would have had the time to dress properly, know that Mr. Potter wasn't in the Gryffindor tower, and have come for breakfast. In fact, you would also have been able to have a proper bath.' Ron opened his mouth, but Professor McGonagall cut him off, 'I can see the drying soap suds under your collar, Weasley.'
Hermione and Harry were the only ones who didn't snicker at this. Hermione was shooting Ron looks of disapproval, while Harry was using all the training he had gone through over the years with the Dursleys along with his Occlumency skills to keep his face straight. He was only partially successful however, for his eyes were twinkling in mirth. His task was made even harder when he remembered the last time he had to sit there with a straight face and not laugh his arse off was when Dudley had first put on his Smeltings uniform all those years back.
'Do you even have a report made, Mr. Weasley?' growled Professor McGonagall after a minute of considering the boy in front of her after giving a quelling look at the tittering fifth- and seventh-years. 'I thought so,' the look on Ron's face was enough to answer that question. 'So you couldn't even be bothered to write a few lines about the patrols you do for the week, Weasley?' Her voice cut through the room making all the students within cringe on reflex. 'I cannot believe that a Gryffindor prefect would shirk his or her duty. Especially now with the way things are going. I am utterly disappointed with you.'
She turned her baleful gaze upon the other prefects, making even the burly seventh year prefect gulp. Her lips had completely vanished by this point, 'And that brings me to the second part of this meeting and why I called all of you and Mr. Potter.' Professor McGonagall fixed her stare at Harry upon mentioning him, startling him. Harry hesitantly returned the smile she sent his way, taken off guard by the suddenness of the change in expression on the older woman's face.
Her face hardened again as she looked around the room again. 'Yesterday, when I had my first meeting with my Muggleborn first-year Gryffindors, I was told a rather interesting story. It was so interesting that I actually had to call in the other first-years to corroborate what I had been told.' She pinned the fifth-year prefects with her glare.
'Ms. Eastchurch, could you run through the tasks you were given on the night of the first?'
The girl who had given Harry the password to the Gryffindor Tower on the night after the Welcoming Feast spoke up hesitantly, thrown by the sudden change in topic. 'Well ma'am, after the Feast, Fitzpatrick and I went to patrol the seventh floor, just as we had been instructed to do. We did not find anything suspicious.' The other prefect nodded vigorously at this
'I see,' said McGonagall. 'What were your duties for that evening, Mr. Connor?' she addressed the seventh-year prefect.
'Sarah and I had been instructed to go help the caretaker sort out any contraband or dark objects that had been detected and confiscated from the incoming students, professor. We were also supposed to help if any further searches were needed. Aside from the odd mildly cursed item, nothing serious was found. Additionally the wards hadn't been tripped when the first-years came in so there wasn't any need to carry out additional searches. As there wasn't anything left for us to do, the two of us left for the Tower. Naturally, ma'am, we cleared it with Mr. Filch and confirmed that there wasn't anything else we were needed for before leaving.' His long experience with the Transfiguration teacher and Deputy Headmistress was the reason why he tacked the last bit on. He knew that she would ask that one question.
Harry was still lost. He wasn't the only one however as the others around him were just as confused as he was. Hermione was mustering up the courage to ask Professor McGonagall the reason for the meeting when the Professor herself spoke up.
'I see,' she said sternly, 'Mr. Connor, were you present at the debriefing that took place in the train ride here?'
'Yes, ma'am' replied the seventh-year cautiously.
'And was every one of this house's prefects present then?'
'Yes, Professor'
'Also, as seventh-year prefect you were given the list of duties for Gryffindor house's prefects, which you then delegated to the fifth- and sixth-year prefects?'
'Yes ma'am.'
'And I understand that the other years had volunteered to carry out the tasks that were on the list first before you could hand them out?'
Looking as if he was wondering where she was going with it the prefect replied with another, 'Yes ma'am'
'Good then. Now, can you tell me who volunteered to escort the first-years up to their dorm?' said McGonagall. The casual tone in her voice was in direct contradiction to the steely glint in her eyes.
The whole room went silent at this, a look of dread started to fill Ron and Hermione's face, while the fifth-year prefects had a look of dawning understanding and hidden glee on theirs. The seventh-years were the only two who did not understand the significance of the question. Harry finally saw where this was going and although his face was carefully neutral, he was rejoicing underneath.
Now Harry didn't really mind escorting the moppets to their dorm. Despite them being a royal pain and extremely cheeky at first, they were likeable enough when they had calmed down a bit. Besides, he really liked the way they insisted on saying 'Sir,' and 'Mr. Potter,' when addressing him even though at times it made him feel really old.
But he did resent having to do the work without any of the perks or benefits. A part of him was still stung over the snub of being passed over for Ron Weasley for that position. Screw Dumbledore's reasoning. So Harry really did not appreciate being made to do their work for them. He was not their fag, nor was he selected for the position. Ron was made the prefect, not Harry. So why should Harry shoulder any of the responsibilities?
After all, didn't Dumbledore say that he had passed Harry over because Harry had enough responsibilities? Harry was initially sorely tempted to just leave the first years behind in the Great Hall in a bid to send a message that he wasn't going to take any responsibilities he wasn't supposed to take, but then that would make the first-years suffer. And Harry wasn't that heartless to let innocent children suffer for the actions of others. He had enough of that growing up and with Snape.
'Um, if I recall correctly, the sixth year Gryffindor prefects were supposed to do that,' said Connor slowly. 'But you know all this ... ma'am.' He faltered at the last moment as Professor McGonagall levelled a stare (lowered to an eagle level glare) at him.
'Oh, I did know of this Mr. Connor, I just wanted to ensure that everyone here knew what they were doing,' said Professor McGonagall, still sounding casual, 'Because, that would help me understand why on earth the first-years were escorted to their dorms by someone who wasn't a prefect!' She bit out the last few words as she fixed Ron and Hermione with a glare so intense that it had reached basilisk level, surpassing her previous record of dragon-level.
'Well?' she snapped out into the uncomfortable silence after nobody spoke up. 'Nothing to say, Mr. Weasley?' she asked as she looked at Ron who shrank back in his seat. 'Ms. Granger?' for once, the bushy haired girl was speechless as she also shrunk back from the baleful stare sent her way.
She rounded on the fifth-years, 'I understand that Mr. Potter had directed the first-years to you when he couldn't find the sixth-year prefects, Ms. Eastchurch? Why didn't you and Mr. Fitzpatrick take up the job instead of giving Mr. Potter the password and moving off? Surely it wouldn't have been that much of a stretch to carry on with your patrol after escorting the new students to their dorms?'
'Um,' the poor girl clearly wasn't expecting to be in the firing range. 'I-I thought that it would've been better for us to go and patrol the seventh floor as soon and as early as possible ... and the firsties wanted Potter to take them there!'
Professor McGonagall wasn't impressed, 'so you mean to tell me that you would be willing to jump into the lake stark naked in the middle of February and then attend all of your classes without your clothes on, if, as you say, "the firsties", asked you? Sweet Merlin, girl! You are the prefect! At least act like you have a backbone!'
'Please professor,' inserted her fellow prefect. 'We had no idea where Weasley and Granger had disappeared off to. And we thought that it would've been better to just follow the orders we were given. My Grandfather always said that the best thing a soldier could do was follow the orders he was given. And he was a soldier himself!'
'And that brings me back to the original point of this meeting,' said McGonagall turning to Ron and Hermione not breaking her stride. 'Imagine my shock when I find out from the new students that they had been escorted up to their dorms not by my sixth-year prefects, or any of the house prefects for that matter, but by one of our other students.' she paused for a while just to watch them squirm before snapping out, 'Where were the two of you that night?'
'Um, well professor, we're sorry that we didn't escort the first-years to the dorms,' began Hermione. 'But we thought we saw someone acting suspicious and decided to investigate. By that time, we heard that the first-years had already been taken care of.'
Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows at this, 'a "suspicious person" you say?' Hermione nodded, while Ron said 'yes Professor,' clearly thinking that they would be let off the hook. He couldn't have been more wrong. 'Well, then why am I hearing about this now?' said Professor McGonagall, her frosty tones becoming even colder. 'It isn't in your report,' she said as she picked Hermione's report and examined it. 'Perhaps it is in that nonexistent report that you claim to have left behind in the dorms, Mr. Weasley?' she said archly when Hermione failed to respond.
Ron flushed at this, 'I did make that report, ma'am.' He said slightly resentfully.
'Really? Then I'm sure you won't mind bringing it down from the dorms. It will only take five minutes. I certainly can wait that long. I am sure the others won't mind waiting either,' said Professor McGonagall challengingly. Seeing Ron make no move to get up, she said expectantly, 'Well, we're waiting, Mr. Weasley.'
'It isn't fully completed yet,' Ron hedged instead. He had meant to make the report up and give it, but things kept happening and one thing led to another and before he knew it, Saturday had come up and he hadn't completed it. When Professor McGonagall had postponed the meeting, Ron had been ecstatic. He thought that he would get up bright and early on Sunday and be able to complete the report by nine. He certainly hadn't meant to sleep in.
Professor McGonagall only snorted at this. 'So when will it be completed by, Weasley?' she said sarcastically, 'If and when you finally leave school the next year?'
Not expecting a response from the now blushing boy, she addressed the entire room. 'I never have been so disappointed with the whole lot of you! Not only did my sixth-year prefects fail to do the tasks that they had volunteered for, but my fifth-year prefects couldn't be bothered to take up the slack! I would suppose that the seventh-year prefects could be let off the hook, but then I hear that even they haven't bothered to help the new students out!'
She swept them with another glare, 'Being a prefect is not a privilege, it is a responsibility! It isn't all about taking points or handing out detentions but also about being there for the younger years! I don't even know why I am repeating myself when you lot,' she indicated to the sixth and seventh-years, 'should have known this by now! I also expected you to tell your juniors and the new prefects the same thing, despite having given them the same speech!'
'And not only that,' she continued in the same venomous tones. 'But you have the gall to hide this from me! Why hadn't you reported Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley missing?' She snapped the last question off to the fifth-years.
'And also, why were the first-years all running around lost the first day back? Weren't you supposed to be showing them the way? Was it not your responsibility to do that much? I know that it isn't written in the rule book, and I don't really expect it out of my seventh-years, but the fifth- and sixth-year prefects could have done that at least. So why haven't you?' she fairly shouted.
After a long moment of hesitation, the fifth-year, Fitzpatrick spoke up, 'Well professor, the two of us were going to do that, but by that time, the first-years had already started flocking towards Potter over here asking him questions about their schoolwork and about the directions to the other classes. So we thought that it would be better to leave things the way they were.'
Professor McGonagall's face didn't change one bit, indeed she was seething inside at this. So they decide to go around and pretend as if nothing was happening? Just because one student volunteered to do something they were required as prefects to do? She thought furiously. Just then, inspiration struck her as she started speaking 'Yes, indeed, Mr. Potter here has done far more than you lot. All the new students I have met have all been filled with tales of how he has helped them with their work and in finding their way around the castle. In fact, from what reports from various sources tell me, he has also seen to helping the first years of the other houses as well whenever they ask him a question if their house prefects are not around.'
'My initial reaction to hearing about this was to replace you with Mr. Potter, Weasley.' Ron blanched on hearing this. 'However, the headmaster managed to convince me otherwise, by pointing out that it was not enough grounds to remove a prefect. He also pointed out that this would necessitate the removal of the other prefects as well, since all of you are equally guilty here one way or another.'
'In light of this, I have thought long and hard and have come to this conclusion.' She had just come up with this, but they really didn't need to know that. Taking a deep breath and hoping that this worked, she continued.
'The position of House Captain hasn't been conferred on a student for a long while now. That was mainly due to the drop of the student population that Hogwarts had experienced recently. In the fifties, it was decided that the six prefects would be more than adequate for the job with the Head Boy and Girl taking care of the organisation of the different house clubs. However,' she opened a drawer in her desk and rummaged around for a bit. 'Due to the work you have done recently in helping out the first-years as well as taking care of some of the responsibilities that the prefects should have been doing, Mr. Potter, I have decided to give you that position.' Finally finding it she extricated a scarlet badge embossed with the Gryffindor Lion in gold with a thin golden C surrounding the animal on one side.
She held the badge out towards Harry while silently ordering the boy to take it without asking any questions.
It seemed that Harry had read her intentions correctly as he took the badge without any complaint, looking at her squarely in the eye all the while only breaking eye contact as he pinned the badge next to the scarlet and gold Quidditch Captain's badge, which, unlike the House Captain's badge, had a pair of broomsticks crossed with each other with the Quidditch four balls between the handles superimposed on the Gryffindor Lion.
Good boy, Professor McGonagall thought. Smiling, she said briskly, 'Congratulations on your promotion, Mr. Potter. I will make the announcement tonight in the Gryffindor common room.' said Professor McGonagall. 'We will discuss your responsibilities in detail later. For now, know that you will be sharing some of the responsibilities that the other prefects claim to be too busy to do.' she gave all the occupants in the room one last glare before dismissing them.
'Mr. Potter, stay back for a moment.'
Wondering what she wanted, the newly minted Gryffindor House Captain sat down in front of his head of house while the others filed out as quickly as possible, wanting to get away as soon as possible. They did not want to find out if the Scot could actually breathe fire.
Telling him to have a biscuit, the old battle-axe leaned back in her chair and, exhaling softly, said, 'Thank you for accepting the position without any fuss, Potter. That was rather commendable of you.'
Harry raised his eyebrows, 'So you had actually thought of the whole thing at that very moment!' he exclaimed.
'You would be right Potter.' said Professor McGonagall as she opened her eyes and looked at him with none of her usual sternness present. 'The headmaster overruled my initial decision of sacking Mr. Weasley and putting you in his stead. So I had to think of an alternative method to teach them a lesson. This was the best I could come up with. I would appreciate it if you didn't share that with the others.'
'I don't think I like being singled out like that just so you can teach a bunch of my schoolmates a lesson,' said Harry slowly.
'Oh don't worry Mr. Potter, I will ensure that you earn that badge. You will be one busy little boy indeed! Besides, making you House Captain gives me the leeway to assign more patrols to the prefects.' As Harry opened his mouth to protest at that she continued, 'Also, I wouldn't complain too much Mr. Potter. In fact, if I were you, I would be thankful that this is all that I am doing.'
'What do you mean professor?'
'Oh, let's just say that if you were to complain or whine about your new position or responsibilities, I just might remember something else I learnt from the first-years,' said Professor McGonagall as she looked over her spectacles at Harry. 'Like the fact that a certain someone told the first-years that I habitually transfigure students into various animals as a punishment.' She fixed him with a stern look, her eyes narrowed and lips thin.
Harry couldn't help but blush at that. 'Ah, you um, heard about that, professor?' he said at a vain attempt at being casual.
'Yes, Mr. Potter, I did. Do you know how terrified those Muggleborns were when I had called them over to my office? The poor mites were positively quaking in their shoes! They were nearly in tears by the time they had come to my office!' Professor McGonagall exclaimed.
Seeing that there was no reply coming from her new House Captain, she continued on, 'I cannot believe that you would lie like that! You certainly are lucky that the headmaster has discouraged corporal punishment in this school Mr. Potter. Otherwise believe me when I say that you would be bent over right now receiving six of the best from my cane.' Harry flinched at that comment.
'Well Professor, technically I hadn't said that you transfigure students. I just mentioned that I had seen you change a student back from a ferret. And that the same student had been bounced quite a few times before you had reversed the transfiguration,' Harry said quickly, mounting the defence he had been working on since last night. 'I guess in hindsight I should have worded my sentence differently. I certainly didn't mean to make them think that you transfigured students as a punishment!' he said with as much remorse he could manage, bowing his head and making his eyes as wide and innocent as possible, portraying the image of a very sorry schoolboy indeed.
Despite her best efforts, Professor McGonagall's lips twitched. That expression was so like his father's, and the green eyes of his mother's only served to enhance the effect. She was also sure that she saw a bit of Sirius in there too. She would've been able to deal with either of the three of them individually, but with all three together clumped in one package ... she couldn't find it within herself to stay angry. Besides, never in her entire career had she experienced the novelty of such a quiet and unfailingly polite batch of first-years. They were more afraid of her than they were of Severus!
'Well, Mr. Potter, do see that it doesn't happen again,' she said dryly. Innocent, heart melting expression or not, she had enough experience to know that the rapscallion was putting on an act. 'Or you will be feeling what six of the best can do to you!'
'You wouldn't,' Harry gasped the last bit out. He was certain that she was joking, but the tone of her voice was too serious for him to be sure.
'You're right, I wouldn't.' She paused for effect, 'I would increase it to nine, and your trousers and pants would be around your ankles.' She smirked at the blush that brought up, 'After all, while the headmaster may have discouraged caning, it isn't against the school rules. Or I just might transfigure you into a fluffy little kitten for the weekend and hand you over to the girls to play with.' She said sweetly, 'after all, it wouldn't do to have the Gryffindor House Captain be called a liar now, would it?'
Harry's face turned white at the threat. Inwardly he cursed himself. He should have made sure that the firsties didn't say anything. Those midgets really had big mouths on them!
'Now, Potter, off with you. I'll see you in class on Monday.'
As he opened the door to exit her office a thought occurred to Harry. Turning his head around to face his head of house, he asked suspiciously. 'Professor, what did you mean when you said "that it wouldn't do to have the Gryffindor House Captain be called a liar,"?' Suddenly working out what that meant, he asked incredulously, 'Does that mean that you haven't set the first-years straight professor?' Seeing Professor McGonagall reach for her wand, he hastily exited and closed the door. He didn't want another stinging hex sent his way, nor did he want to risk being transfigured.
Just to be sure, Harry made it a point to get as far away from Professor McGonagall's office as possible.
As soon as he was a safe distance away, Harry shook his head. He really hadn't seen that coming. Who'd have thought that McGonagall was as Slytherin as they came? When she had held out the badge to him, he had picked up the order she had sent his way via her thoughts, as well as a warning that he wouldn't like the consequences. He hadn't dug in further at that time to figure out what those consequences were, since he could detect the mental walls that were just lurking beneath the surface of those thoughts. Professor McGonagall apparently was one of the few who knew the art of Occlumency.
He wasn't too worried about the threats she had made. The fact that she hadn't bothered to refute the rumours that Harry had started combined with the fact that she had made him the first House Captain in fifty years proved that. Not that he was going to try and push his luck.
Checking the time, and seeing that it was lunch, he made his way to the Great Hall where he was joined almost immediately by Susan, Hannah, Justin, Kevin and Terry as soon as he sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Neville.
'So what did McGonagall want with you lot? The other prefects aren't talking for some reason.' And with that question from Susan, the inquisition began.
Harry was forced to recount what had happened in Professor McGonagall's office (minus the tête-à-tête he had after the prefects had left) three times before he was allowed to eat his lunch in peace. By the time he had finished, half the school knew about it.
Deciding that he needed to get away from it for the time being, Harry excused himself and finding a discreet location donned his Cloak and slipped back through the open doors into the Great Hall which was now mostly empty.
Slipping into the antechamber, he quickly opened up the passageway to the Chamber of Secrets. As soon as he was in the Chamber proper, he called his elves to him.
With a 'crack' that echoed off the empty room, Randolph, Dobby and Winky appeared together greeting their master.
'Right, you lot. I want that basilisk harvested for any parts that can be sold commercially or utilized. From what research I have done, that would mean its venom, heart, fangs, eyes, liver, blood and hide. After you render it down, I'll then decide what needs to be sold, and what we should keep for ourselves. The rest should be vanished.' Seeing them nod, he continued, 'After you are done with that, I want you to cast some air freshening charms on the place. Also, I want the place cleaned up as well.' All three elves replied with a 'yes master.'
Smiling, Harry sent Dobby and Winky off to work on the basilisk.
Addressing Randolph, he said, 'How is the team of elves you sent to repair the cave-in progressing.'
'They have made an initial assessment of the area sir,' said Randolph respectfully. 'Most of the stonework can be reused in repairing the place, but there is much material that needs to be replaced outright. I have set them to work on repairing the cave-in using the existing materials for now. But soon we will need to buy stone to replace the bits too damaged to be repaired by magic.'
Harry took a moment to ponder this. Sure he had more than enough money to buy the materials without it being a strain for him. The problem was that he was then going to be doing extra work on Hogwarts without the headmaster's permission. Soon he decided to go ahead with it. He figured that he owned half the castle anyway, what with being the heir of two founders. Besides, it wasn't as if anyone knew of the place or the tunnel to begin with.
His decision made, Harry said, 'Do you have the authority to search for and negotiate with the right companies?'
'Yes sir, as the head elf, I am able to do so as long as the Master gives his permission in form of a letter.'
'Very well, on Monday I want you to scout for the relevant companies and give me their names and addresses. I only want the best of the best. After you give me the list I'll write the letters so you can obtain the quotations. For now, supervise those two and ensure they don't kill each other.' Harry looked at the two elves that now were clad in miniature dragon hide armour and wielding long goblin made knives. 'I hope they behave the next day when you aren't around,' he muttered under his breath.
'Actually sir, I might have a solution for that. I just heard that Kreacher is good at taxidermy as well. He was trained by his parents in the art of stuffing house-elf heads for the House of Black. Randolph cannot believe that he forgot about that!' the elf muttered underneath his breath.
'It's fine Randolph. At least you remembered at the last minute,' said Harry consolingly.
'Master is too kind' the elf muttered as Harry summoned a much cleaner Kreacher and set him the task of helping with the basilisk.
The elf stood goggle-eyed as he saw the basilisk that Harry said that he had killed himself before muttering, 'Master is a powerful wizard to have been able to kill such a strong beast. Kreacher thinks that the head will make a fine addition to the house like the umbrella stand old master Sagittarius made from the leg of the troll he killed. Yes he does!'
'Now there's a good idea Kreacher!' said Harry. 'After you drain the venom from the fangs, and remove the eyes, stuff the head, replace the gouged eyes with imitations and create a plaque to mount it. We'll figure out where to put it later.'
The house elf beamed at the compliment Harry sent his way, and with an excited 'yes master!' joined the other elves.
Suddenly spotting something near the basilisk, Harry darted forward. Bending down, he picked up a solitary fang that was laying a few ways away from the corpse that was now being processed. This was the fang that had pierced his skin all those years ago. Harry looked at the thing that had come really close to killing him in fascination. It wasn't everyday that one gets to hold the very thing that nearly ended their life.
For some reason, Harry felt a pull towards this particular fang. Frowning, he pocketed it. He had a vague idea on what to do with that fang.
Deciding to leave the elves to do their job, Harry left the Chamber and headed towards the school. He needed to hurry otherwise getting out into the Great Hall would pose a bit of a problem seeing as he would be coming out directly behind the staff table.
He reached the Hall with plenty of time to spare. Hurrying up to the Gryffindor tower, he was just in time for Professor McGonagall's announcement which she had appeared a few minutes after him to give.
Harry soon found out what his new position entailed. By the next day, Professor McGonagall had managed to dig out an old handbook detailing the duties and powers of the House Captain. As House Captain, Harry was essentially above the prefects and just below the Head Boy and Girl, meaning that the House Prefects had to report to him. He had to hand out and coordinate the prefects' patrol duties, (something they found had increased almost overnight) as well as review what detentions they had meted out along with any points they had taken or given. If any of the students in the house had an issue with the detentions, they also had to take it up with their House Captain.
Thankfully, Harry managed to smooth out any resentment the prefects had towards him by mentioning that Professor McGonagall had all but threatened him into accepting the position. He may or may not have used his talents in persuading them.
Another thing Harry had to do was approve of the activities of the different clubs and societies that were either in Gryffindor House or headed by a Gryffindor. And that he found annoying as well as entertaining: Annoying, because all of the various club leaders were rather nitpicky, and entertaining because most of them were girls who were rather over the moon with him for one reason or another.
Though, Harry decided as he sat through a five minute meeting a few days later (that was taking ages!) he could do without the fawning of two certain siblings with the last name Creevey. It figured that Colin was the head of the Photographic Society. The hyperactive fifth-year was practically married to that camera of his. He was probably born with it in his hand. Harry amused himself with images of a newborn Colin Creevey taking a picture of his parents' and nurse's surprised faces the minute he was born ... ('Where did that camera come from?') or the look on Mrs. Creevey's face when one year old Colin spit up baby food in her face. It helped in keeping a pleasant smile on his face ... and moderated his mounting desire to throttle the kid. And Dennis was ... Harry frowned, he had no idea what Dennis was doing there to begin with. He jerked out of his daydream. 'Yeah, Colin,' he said, mentally thanking all the deities out there for his skill at Legilimency, 'Good idea. You go ahead and do that. Just ensure that you ask for permission if you are taking pictures of individuals. Perhaps if you offer to give them a copy they might not mind. Now if there is nothing else? Good. Bye!' With that he got up to leave.
Merlin I hate that woman. He thought as he left to go somewhere nice and quiet. Stupid vindictive Scot!
To top it all, he also found himself sitting and helping the younger years every evening. Initially he had no problem with it. But that was when he wasn't obligated to help them. Now ... it was a chore.
At least the upshot of it was that the other Heads were thinking of following Professor McGonagall's footsteps. At least that way, he would have some company in his misery.
It was near the end of the week when he was preparing to go to sleep that he suddenly realised that the thoughts he had read in Professor McGonagall's mind had been sent to him! She bleeding knew! He thought with sudden realisation as he abruptly sat back up in bed. Stupid vindictive Scot...