For the Devil to Dance Again [tomarry]

3. professor rowle

The next morning, Harry escorted the first years to breakfast along with Tracey. They followed behind him like ducklings, and he hoped they would learn to navigate the castle quickly. As seriously as he took his prefect duties, he didn't want to be chained to the first years.

Neither the head boy nor girl were in Slytherin that year, which meant Harry would have to meet with them regularly. Rachel Devereaux, the head girl, was a Ravenclaw, and Felix Vaughan, the head boy, was a Hufflepuff. Neither of them, in Harry's opinion, was particularly remarkable. Still, he didn't have any objections to them, either. They had a reputation for being fair, which is what was important.

Too many people favored Gryffindor as it was. He didn't need to add the head boy and girl to the list.

After getting his patrol schedule from the head boy, Harry sat next to Theo, digging into his breakfast.

"The first years aren't giving you any trouble, are they?" Theo asked, in between bites.

"Not really," Harry said, helping himself to some pumpkin juice. "Just one asked if I'm the great Ryan Potter's brother."

Theo rolled his eyes.

"Of course they did," he muttered, just as annoyed as Harry.

Just then, Professor Snape appeared with a stack of parchment - their class schedules. He handed them out perfunctorily, as he did every year, and Harry took his with a quiet 'thank you.' He preferred to keep on Snape's good side. Their relationship, such as it was, had started out somewhat rocky, due to Harry's father. Thankfully, Harry proved that he wasn't a very good Potter, and Snape seemed to forgive him the accident of his birth. They weren't what one would call close, not like Draco and Snape, but Harry had a healthy respect for his head of house, and Snape seemed content to leave him be.

Or so Harry had thought. But then he had gotten prefect over Draco, and that had turned his whole perception of Snape upside down.

Because Harry had expected Draco to become the Slytherin prefect - of course he had. Malfoy was Snape's favorite student. For him to choose Harry instead... either Snape had some plan Harry wasn't aware of, or he respected him more than Harry thought.

He kind of hoped it was the latter.

Still eating, Harry looked down at his schedule. He had all the core classes, plus arithmancy and ancient runes as electives. He shared neither with his twin.

Regardless, September the first that year had fallen on a Friday that year, which meant he had most of the weekend to do as he pleased before classes started. Harry would like to get started on studying for O.W.L.'s, but that seemed a bit excessive, even for him.

Cassius Warrington, that years quidditch Captain, came around as Harry was thinking about how to spend his free time.

"Potter," he said in his gruff way. "I've books the quidditch pitch for tomorrow morning. We should get in some training before classes start. I hope you won't let being prefect interfere."

"Of course not," Harry said, a bit offended that Warrington would think so little of him. "I've already talked to the head boy. I can work out my schedule around quidditch practices."

"Good. Be at the pitch at seven." Warrington said, walking away. Harry rolled his eyes. It would be Warrington's first year as captain, and last, considering he was a seventh year.

Harry certainly hoped they won the Quidditch Cup this year, as they had since Harry had joined the team in his second year. Ryan, of course, had been given special privileges to join in his first. More luck of the Boy-Who-Lived.