Moody’s electric-blue eye swivelled upwards and stared fixedly through the ceiling of the kitchen.
“Drawing room…” he growled, as the pupil contracted. “Desk in the corner? Yeah, I see it… yeah, it’s a Boggart… want me to go up and get rid of it, Molly?”
“No, no, I’ll do it myself later,” beamed Mrs. Weasley, “you have your drink. We’re having a little bit of a celebration, actually…” She gestured at the scarlet banner. “Fourth prefect in the family!” she said fondly, ruffling Ron’s hair.
“Prefect, eh?” growled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and his magical eye swivelling around to gaze into the side of his head. Harry had the very uncomfortable feeling it was looking at him and moved away towards Sirius and Lupin.
“Well, congratulations,” said Moody, still glaring at Ron with his normal eye, “authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn’t have appointed you…”
Ron looked rather startled at this view of the matter but was saved the trouble of responding by the arrival of his father and eldest brother. Mrs. Weasley was in such a good mood she did not even complain that they had brought Mundungus with them; he was wearing a long overcoat that seemed oddly lumpy in unlikely places and declined the offer to remove it and put it with Moody’s travelling cloak.
“Well, I think a toast is in order,” said Mr. Weasley, when everyone had a drink. He raised his goblet. “To Ron and Hermione, the new Gryffindor prefects!”
Ron and Hermione beamed as everyone drank to them, and then applauded.
“I was never a prefect myself,” said Tonks brightly from behind Harry as everybody moved towards the table to help themselves to food. Her hair was tomato red and waist-length today; she looked like Ginny’s older sister. “My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities.”
“Like what?” said Ginny, who was choosing a baked potato.
“Like the ability to behave myself,” said Tonks.
Ginny laughed; Hermione looked as though she did not know whether to smile or not and compromised by taking an extra large gulp of Butterbeer and choking on it.
“What about you, Sirius?” Ginny asked, thumping Hermione on the back.
Sirius, who was right beside Harry, let out his usual bark-like laugh.
“No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge.”
“I think Dumbledore might have hoped I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends,” said Lupin. “I need scarcely say that I failed dismally.”
Harry’s mood suddenly lifted. His father had not been a prefect either. All at once the party seemed much more enjoyable; he loaded up his plate, feeling doubly fond of everyone in the room.