Chapter 8: Harry's POV

                                    

                                          
Harry climbed down the ladder of the divination classroom, suppressed rage bubbling up inside him. His textbook was sitting at the bottom of his satchel, wrecked and covered in black ink, all because of Malfoy. And for some unknown reason, Harry hadn't even attempted to tell on him, and instead made up a stupid excuse as to why it was in ruins. He was so lucky that this had been his last lesson, because he was already wishing that the war finished him off first. The only good thing about being an 'eighth year' was all these new privileges and much needed freedom. Their curfew had been extended to 10pm, and there was way more breaks in between lessons.
Harry rounded a corner in the hallway, trying to remember where the new common rooms were placed. But before he could even memorised all the portraits hung on the stone walls, he was being pulled into the common room by an agitated Hermione.
"What are you-
"Harry have you heard? The prefects have been chosen!"  Harry yawned openly, scratching his head. He'd forgotten about the selection - and quite frankly, he didn't care.
"Did you get chosen, Hermione?"
"Well yes, I just got a letter about it. But that's not the point. The point is that I heard that Malfoy's been appointed as a prefect too."
Harry plonked himself onto an armchair next to the fire. At least they hadn't gotten rid of that.
"So what if he's a prefect? It's not like he deserves it." Hermione stared at Harry incredulously.
"Harry, in case you haven't read the pamphlet Professor McGonagall sent out, prefects have full power over detentions and punishments. So you better be careful, because you've never exactly been on his good side."  Harry thought over what she had just said. Who in their right minds would make Malfoy a prefect? Not only was he the son of an ex deatheater, he was also a notorious bully and a downright git. What happened to being a good student and excelling in exams? 
But as much as Harry hated to acknowledge it, he had to admit that Malfoy was much more smarter than him - and was top of his potions class. Not like he deserved it or anything, he was still as entitled and annoying as before the war. And to think that  Harry was somewhat looking forward to seeing him.
"Harry? Hello? Did you not hear what I just said?" Hermione waved an impatient hand in front of his face, frowning reproachfully.
"Uh, no I don't think so. What did you say again?" Hermione threw him a disapproving look and pulled an official-looking booklet out of her pocket and tossed it to him. Harry opened it, and the first thing he saw was an elegant looking decoration displayed on the first page.
There was a glowering picture of the moon on the first page, and it was titled with the words: The Lunar Ball (a masquerade ball exclusively for seventh and eighth years). Harry read over the pamphlet, becoming increasingly bored. He really didn't know why Hermione thought to tell him about this. It's not like he had any desire to attend the ball. He didn't want anything to do with public events - that would mean people and, most likely, the press. 
"Cool. Do you have anyone to go with?"  
"Well no. But aren't you excited? This dance lasts until midnight! And there's an after party for eighth years."  Harry reached down for his satchel, pulling out the ruined book, trying not to get any ink on his tie.
Hermione's eyes darted from the book in his hands to his face, frowning deeply. 
"Give me that. Oh Harry, must you be so accident prone?"  
"It wasn't me! It was Malfoy!"  Hermione rolled her eyes, pulling out her wand from her back pocket, cast a complex spell and handed the book back, the ink miraculously cleared, and the pages slightly crumpled. 
"Well are you planning on taking anyone?" 
"What?" Harry said, still marvelling at the newly fixed textbook.
"I mean the Lunar Ball, Harry, pay attention will you."  He tapped his fingers against the edge of the armchair, deep in thought.
"I don't really see the point in going to be honest." harry said bluntly, watching the red of the flames die out in the warm evening breeze.
"It's not a requirement to take a plus one to the ball you know. Besides, it'll be fun. Kind of." 
"Since when do you know anything about fun?"  Hermione narrowed her eyes, giving him a warning look. 
"Of course I know how to have fun, Harry. I'm not just a walking textbook."  Harry rolled his eyes.
"Of course Hermione, but I'm going for a walk. I need to clear my head." 
"Oh no your not. It's almost 10pm. You'll get a detention from the prefects on night duty."  Harry headed towards the door, picking up his invisibility cloak.
"See? I'll be fine. No one's gonna see through this thing."  Hermione crossed her arms, displaying her obvious disapproval.
"If you get caught-
"Hermione, I survived a whole war and killed Voldemort. I think I'll be ok. But thanks for considering."  Harry threw the cloak on and ducked out of the room before she could interrogate him again. She's a great friend, but sometimes she acts his like backup mother, and Harry was old enough to take care of himself, he didn't need another motherly figure. Harry could make out several figures moving in the shadows, their badges catching little specks of light. Hermione wasn't kidding about the prefects. He was just going to have to be careful. 
The hallways seemed to stretch out into nothingness, causing Harry to panic slightly. He hated to admit it, but he kinda wished he had just stayed in the common room. But if he came back, he would never hear the end of it from Hermione. Harry blanked for a moment, contemplating on whether to just give up and go back. Unfortunately that meant he wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings. Swaying a little, Harry turned around, and crashed right into a suit of armour, causing the knight to swear loudly. He was so done for. A silhouetted figure approached him, casting their wand light on him.
"Look who it is. You really are a dork, aren't you Potter?"  
Harry attempted to shield his face from the embarassment of being caught by Draco Malfoy. He really should've turned around when he had the chance.
"You make it too easy to get you into trouble, it's almost boring."  Harry had never been so grateful that is was dark, because he could feel his face burning up.
"Detention, Potter. I'm sure Filch would love his office deep-cleaned."  
Harry made a mental note to talk to whoever made Malfoy a prefect. 
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Hermione is a wise woman. No questions asked. Also please vote. 
-R🧚