Chapter 827 Dialogue

"I don't think so," Ron also looked up at the ceiling and said doubtfully, "They always say that only fools become prefects and that's still the case," but he quickly added in a happier tone: "They never get new brooms! I wish I could go with my mom to pick them out. She definitely can't afford the Emmanuel series, but there is a new sweeping series, which is great too. Yeah, I thought I should go and tell her that I Like the cleaning series, so she knows..." Ron rushed out of the room happily, leaving only Harry and Hermione alone in the room.

For some reason, Harry found that he didn't want to see Hermione right now. He turned and walked towards the bed, picked up the pile of robes that Mrs. Weasley had finished washing and walked towards the suitcase.

"Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Well done, Hermione," Harry's voice was so enthusiastic that he looked completely different from his usual self, and he still wasn't looking at Hermione. "That's really good. Prefect. Well done." "

"Thank you..." Hermione said, and Hermione was also a little confused. She originally thought that the prefect was either Harry or Fanlin, and Ron or something, Hermione didn't even think about it.

When the girl first came in, she still had some small selfishness, but now...

Dumbledore's ideas were really unreliable, and he didn't play by the rules at all.

Hermione hesitated...

"Well - Harry - can I borrow Hedwig so I can tell my parents the good news? They'll be really happy, I think they'll understand what a prefect is."

"Yes, no problem," Harry said, still in that terrifying tone that was not his own, "Take it!"

He approached the suitcase and placed the robes at the bottom, pretending to inspect the items while Hermione went to the wardrobe and called Hedwig down.

After a while, Harry heard the door close, but still bent to listen; the only sounds he could hear were the blank picture on the wall chuckling again, and the wastebasket in the corner now coughing. Out of owl guano.

He straightened up and looked back. Hermione had left, and so had Hedwig.

Harry hurried across the room, closed the door, then slowly returned to bed and collapsed, staring blankly at the bottom of the wardrobe.

He had completely forgotten that fifth graders could be elected prefects. He was too nervous about the possibility of being expelled to worry about the badge being sent to a specific person.

But what if he remembered what he could expect if he thought about it?

This is not yours, said a small true voice in his head.

Harry buried his face in his hands. He couldn't delude himself that if he had known that Ron's prefect badge was still on its way, he would have wished it was for him instead of Ron.

Does this make him as arrogant as Malfoy? Does he think he is superior to others? Did he really believe he was better than Ron?

No, the little voice said confrontationally.

is this real? Harry doubted this, and he uneasily explored his feelings. I'm only better than him at Quidditch. I don't do anything else better than he does.

That's obviously true, Harry thought: his homework was no better than Ron's. But what about outside the classroom? What about all the adventures since entering Hogwarts? Those risky moves are far worse than being fired.

But why Ron?

Harry still couldn't figure it out. In fact, after experiencing a small loss, Harry was able to adjust his emotions very well.

But Ron...

In fact, besides himself, would Dumbledore have a better candidate, such as Fan Lin?

Harry knew very well that apart from him, only Fan Lin was more suitable for this kind of thing in Gryffindor. If he hadn't been famous enough, no one would even be able to compete with Fan Lin.

Harry knew very well that he could do it, most of it was something Fan Lin taught him, and even the Goblet of Fire was passed with Fan Lin's help.

No matter how you look at it, it can't be Ron...

Maybe Dumbledore didn't pick you to be a prefect because you were in danger. Maybe he chose them for other reasons. Maybe there was something you didn't know about Ron.

A voice came to Harry's mind.

Harry opened his eyes and looked at the foot of the wardrobe through the gap between his fingers. He was remembering something.

Fred had already said: "No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect."

Harry made a little scornful sound. But he was immediately disgusted with himself.

Ron didn't ask Dumbledore to give him the prefect badge. It's not Ron's fault. It was him, Harry, Ron's best friend in the world, who was angry with him because he didn't get the prefect badge, and laughed at Ron behind his back with the twins. This was the first time that he was What struck Harry?

At this moment, Harry heard Ron's footsteps on the stairs again. He stood up, adjusted his glasses, and quickly put a smile on his face when Ron came in from the door.

"Just in time for Mom!" Ron said happily, "She said she would buy me a sweeping series of brooms if possible."

"Cool," said Harry, relieved to hear that his voice no longer sounded artificially enthusiastic. "Look - Ron - well done, mate."

The smile fell from Ron's face.

"I never thought it was me!" He shook his head and said, "I thought the prefect should be you or Fan Lin!"

"Aha, the two of us have caused too much trouble..." Harry shook his head and said, "Maybe Dumbledore thinks so, and don't worry about Fanlin, you should know that he doesn't care about this kind of thing."

"Yeah," said Ron, "Yeah, well I guess we'd better pack the suitcases, wouldn't we?"

The strange thing is that since they came here, their possessions and persons have become more and more scattered.

It took them most of the afternoon to retrieve their books and belongings from across the room, and then stuff them all into their school suitcases.

Harry noticed that Ron kept moving the position of his Prefect's badge, first placing it on his bedside table, then taking it out and placing it on top of his folded robes, as if to study the effect of red on black. It was only when Fred and George burst in and suggested that Ron wear the badge on his forehead and cast a permanent attachment charm that Ron gently wrapped the badge into his maroon socks and locked the box. (To be continued)