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HP465- Head Boy Authority
🕑 Added 2025-07-11 21:57:13 +0000 UTCThe train screeched to a halt at Hogsmeade Station, steam billowing in thick clouds as students poured out in clusters. Harry’s group moved casually, Astoria bouncing slightly on her toes while Daphne kept a steady hand on her sister’s shoulder to stop her from darting too far ahead.
The feast was as lively as ever. First-years stared wide-eyed at the enchanted ceiling, while older students drifted to their House tables in loud, chattering groups. Dumbledore stood at the podium, his robes a violent shade of purple, and gave his usual start-of-term remarks.
Harry sat between Daphne and Tracey at the Slytherin table, calmly buttering a roll as Dumbledore introduced Professor Slughorn. The portly man waddled to the staff table with a wide smile, drawing polite applause. The real sting came when Snape was confirmed as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. A collective groan rose from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables.
The first years were ushered out of the Great Hall, following the prefects like ducklings. The older students drifted toward their common rooms. Harry gave his usual talk, reminding them not to embarrass the House and to keep their behaviour sharp. “Don’t be prats,” he finished simply, earning a few nervous nods before the younger ones scattered to their dormitories.
“Sorted,” he said, glancing at Daphne. “Let’s go.”
They left the common room and made their way up to the prefects’ meeting.
After the meeting wrapped, off they went, Harry falling into step beside Daphne as they headed toward the Prefects’ gathering.
The meeting room was already buzzing when Harry pushed open the door. Cho stood near the front, Head Girl badge gleaming in the torchlight as she spoke to a small cluster of Prefects.
At her side, Cormac McLaggen leaned against the table with the self-satisfied air of someone who thought his Head Boy badge gave him the right to hold court. His grin faltered slightly when he spotted Harry entering with Daphne at his side.
“Potter,” Cormac said, straightening up like he meant to assert some authority.
Harry gave him an nod. “McLaggen.”
Daphne offered a polite smile but said nothing as they moved toward others.
A few seats down, Harry caught sight of Ginny and Luna, both wearing their new Fifth Year Prefect badges. Ginny’s grin was bright as she raised a hand in greeting. “About time you showed,” she teased.
“Had to let the fanfare die down,” Harry replied dryly, sliding into a seat.
Luna smiled softly “It is a good thing you came. Cormac was about to give us a speech about leadership and masculinity.”
“Sounds riveting,” Harry said with a smirk.
Neville and Hermione stepped in soon after, sliding into the seats nearest Harry. Hannah followed, with Padma trailing just behind. Harry’s group naturally stuck closer, spreading along the row in a loose cluster.
When the last of the prefects had filtered in and settled down, Cho and Cormac stood at the front, trying for something that resembled authority. Cho, ever the polished Head Girl, spoke clearly as she began distributing patrol schedules. Cormac, on the other hand, radiated the smug energy of someone who thought the badge on his chest gave him ownership of the room.
As the House Heads arrived, they each offered a few pointed words, reminders about conduct, curfews, and the importance of House unity... then swept out just as briskly, leaving the prefects alone with Cho and Cormac.
The room had gone quieter once the parchment stacks were empty, save for the faint sound of parchment being unfolded. Across the circle, frowns began to appear as eyes scanned the schedules. Even Cho’s forehead creased as she read through hers. She looked up sharply.
“Cormac,” she said, her voice edged with confusion. “Why is Harry on night patrol with Ernest?”
All eyes in the room shifted at once.
Harry didn’t say a word. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he leaned back slightly in his chair, fingers tapping idly against the edge of the parchment in front of him.
Cormac’s jaw tightened, but he tried to cover it with a casual shrug. “Seemed logical to pair them. Potter spends so much time wandering about as it is. Night patrol fits.”
Cho huffed softly through her nose and held out her hand. “Hand over the schedules. They’ll need to be redrawn.”
Cormac’s eyes narrowed, and he straightened his shoulders with a glare. “Are you undermining my authority as Head Boy, Cho?”
Cho didn’t flinch. Instead, she let out a short laugh, the sound more amused than warm. “What authority? You did hear the Deputy Headmistress, didn’t you? She said Harry’s exempt from regular prefect duties if he chooses to be. He got other obligations, like running the Duelling Club.”
Cormac crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “So what? We are letting him slack off now?”
Cho rubbed her nose, shaking her head slightly as if she’d heard enough. “Do yourself a favour, McLaggen… lose the king-of-the-castle act before it crumbles.. Trust me, it won’t do you any good.”
Anthony Goldstein raised a brow. “So are we tossing all of these schedules, then?”
“Yes,” Cho said flatly, already gathering the parchments from the nearest prefects. “We will redraw them properly.”
“You are unbelievable,” Cormac muttered.
Well, that was that. It took a Gryffindor’s fool courage to stand against Harry at this point, but Cormac wasn’t an enemy—just a loud prat. Cho handled him before Harry needed to bother.
The next day, Defence Against the Dark Arts class began with the usual shuffle of students finding seats. Conversations drifted across the room until the door swung open with a faint creak. Snape entered, robes billowing slightly as he crossed to his desk.
“Mr Potter,” Snape drawled, settling into his chair, “Take attendance and assess where this rabble currently stands.”
Harry rose smoothly, already scanning the room. “Right,” he said.
Snape didn’t need to say more. It wasn’t the first time he left Harry to handle a class.
Once the list was complete, Harry set the parchment aside and moved through the room, quizzing the class on defensive theory and testing their spellwork. It wasn’t anything elaborate, simple counters, basic shielding charms, a quick check on duelling stances. He corrected a few wand movements here and there, pointed out sloppy footwork, and kept the pace brisk. The students didn’t dare slack off with both him and Snape watching, though Snape didn’t lift a finger himself. He sat at his desk reading through papers as if Harry running the lesson was the most natural thing in the world.
When Harry finished, he handed over his notes. Snape glanced through them, his eyes flicking down the page before giving a sharp nod.
“From here on,” Snape announced, his voice cutting through the low murmur in the room, “I will cover theory and higher-level magic. Mr Potter will handle practical lessons during Duelling Club.”
There were no protests. Most of the class looked relieved. And like that, class began properly. Snape launched into an advanced lecture on protective wards and the principles behind counter-hexing.
As they stepped into the cool, stone-walled classroom, the scent of stewed herbs and faint smoke hit them at once. Slughorn was already bustling about near the front, his rotund frame barely fitting behind the desk as he fiddled with an assortment of cauldrons and bottles. His face flushed slightly with exertion, and his walrus moustache twitched as he adjusted a stopper on one of the vials.
