❝ They asked her, "how did you free yourself?" She answered, "by embracing my own power". ❞ — Yung Pueblo

The Prefect meeting has been rescheduled. And I wasn't informed. Deliberately. Meaning they don't want me there.

I go anyway. Who do they think I am?

I inhale to compose myself and push the door open. Chin up, head straight. Giving no impression this last-minute change affected me. Their eyes grow wide when they see me. I give a smile and walk past Walcott Royce and Roxanne Vance from Ravenclaw, who are avoiding eye contact at all costs, I can tell.

They haven't saved a chair for me. Obviously. I walk to the back of the classroom to grab one of the extras, my heels clicking against the uncarpeted tiles. Knowing the sound is most likely vexing them, I make sure to click them louder as I walk back to the circle, chair in hand. They're glaring at me. I set the chair down and sit. Flash another smile, just to vex them some more.

Roxanne Vance can't help herself. "Why are you here?"

"I was under the impression we're having a Prefect meeting," I say. "I'm one of the Gryffindor Prefects."

"We already have Macmillan here to give the Gryffindor input," Bertolt Gloeckner from Hufflepuff lashes. "You may go."

He really is doing this. I feel the urge to roll my eyes, so I close them instead. Another inhale.

"I would if you joined me, Gloeckner," I say. "After all, your fellow Prefect is here too, is she not? Why is my presence less needed than yours?"

"Well, clearly one has enough common sense to know when they're not wanted," says Eleanora Lopez, coming to Gloeckner's defense. "We didn't tell you we rescheduled the meeting for a reason."

"Yeah, that much I did figure out. After Henry Kei told me. So with all due respect, I'm not very interested in hearing how much you don't want me here, when the actual school Headboy does." She takes a sharp breath, and I can tell she's about to snap, so I hasten to add, "Now, I think it'd be a more productive use of our time if we got down to business and stopped this senseless bickering."

They're still glaring, but don't say anything against. I'm disappointed to see Melvin Richards do the same, but I should have known from day one this was coming.

Jackson clears his throat beside me. "Well, to address the elephant in the room. Professor McBon is convicted. Now, regardless of your opinion on her as a person or teacher," he studies the room, looking each Prefect in the eye to deliver his point, "I think it's vital we discuss how things are going to change with the arrival of her replacement."

"Dashawn said the sub is an Auror," said Deeba Arain; when I catch her eye, she shifts in her seat and adjusts her headscarf to obscure half her face from my view. "I wouldn't be too worried, Macmillan. Hogwarts will finally have the security that it deserved all along."

Jackson is uncomfortable. "That's not. . . exactly where I was going with this, but we'll discuss security too, certainly."

Deeba Arain isn't looking when I glance at her. My lungs are tight; she is being passive-aggressive and I can't stand it, but she's not alone in her anger.

Gloeckner speaks up. "Akker always said Breeze McBon was nutty as a pecan pie." He sits there, legs spread casually, sniggering as he says that, and I stare him down for a long minute.

Finally, I interject. "Do you know what else Akker said that was falser than your intelligence? I'd list everything, but there's just so much to mention, even an entire roll of parchment wouldn't suffice."

"Drop the act already, Mayo, will you?" snaps Eleanora Lopez. "All of London has read your stupid magazine. It's all over the papers now."

"And you are telling me you believe a single word of it?" I am appalled. Humiliated. But I don't let the latter show. I turn to Melvin Richards. "You were there. You were present on all our meetings, Melvin. Mike and I have been friends with you three since year one. Are you really going to sit there and not say a word? Really?"

The tilt of his head is slow, automatic. His forehead puckers and his lips press in a line. As though I'm the one in the wrong for calling him out on his cowardice.

"Want to know what I think, Sibi?" he says. "I think that Jeff Willard guy was telling the truth about Polly Kin being unregistered in both the British and American wizarding education systems. I double-checked with my father, who's been working for the Ministry for the past twenty years. I've got no clue what happened in the US where she lived before, nor do I care to know. But I can say this much: McBon knew bloody well what she was doing when she brought Kin here without legitimizing her enrollment. Or her existence to begin with."

He can't be serious. I inhale again to compose myself before I get out of character and say something I might regret or that will smudge my dignity. When I'm calm, I straighten my back. Lift my chin again.

"You were there," I repeat. "You know what the entire purpose of our organization was. You know what would happen if professor McBon went to the Ministry to register Polly's name. Everything we did was to prevent that."

"Was it?" challenges Melvin. "Well, forgive me, but I was under the impression she was a transfer from Ilvermorny. Now I'm having a hard time believing her intentions were as artless and brave as she made them out to be. Or McBon's, for that matter. Kin was nothing but her parrot after all, wasn't she?"

"You were still part of that bloody group, Richards!" Gloeckner's tone is loud and venomous. "You can act all high and mighty now, but you were with them when none of us in this room even knew whatever she was conspiring with McBon."

"Well guess what, mate; people can have second thoughts when new information is presented," said Melvin hotly. "Just cause you're always useless as a pufferfish, Gloeckner—"

"Watch your mouth."

"—some of us are out here trying to be part of something. At least I, as a Prefect, do my part to stay informed and involve myself in what I believe to be noble causes."

Gloeckner guffaws. "Who even put your idiotic arse in Slytherin?"

There's the sound of Melvin's chair hitting the ground when he leaps to his feet, and a blue jet of light coming from Roxanne Vance's wand, and Eleanora Lopez yelping as she stands up to push the Ravenclaw away. The Stunning Spell hits him anyway and Gloeckner's body goes flying across the room. The noise is too much. I bring out my wand and yell "Expelliarmus!" Melvin's wand flicks out of his hand instead of Roxanne's, who I was aiming for. Gloeckner grunts in the distance.

The door of the classroom slams open and the sight of a fuming Henry Kei is enough to silence us all. His hands curl into fists and his left brow twitches.

"May I please know," he starts. "What on Merlin's name is going on here?"

Nobody speaks for a solid minute. I want to but I am humiliated. For the second time today, and it's hardly my fault. Everything is going so awfully wrong.

"Is this irresponsible and foolish behavior characteristic of a school Prefect?" He walks around the room, tapping the overturned chairs with his wand to lift them. I've never seen him this dissapointed before, save for that time he had a fight with Coby Stanley. "Shame on you. All eight of you. This is beyond embarrasing."

Gloeckner has stood up. Eleanora Lopez is by his side now, making sure he's alright. He doesn't show a hint of shame; instead, he puffs out his chest, shoves past Henry and walks to the door.

"And where on earth do you think you're going, Gloeckner?" Henry asks and brings out his wand.

The door, slightly ajar, slams and locks into Gloeckner's face. The Hufflepuff doesn't look amused as he turns around.

"What's the point in staying? What's there to discuss? We'll never be on the same page, will we now?" He throws a disdainful look at me, Jackson and Melvin. "They were part of McBon's scheme. So were you, Kei. But I'm not surprised, to be honest. Of course you Gryffindors would do anything to defend your head of house. As for Richards, I think we can all agree he doesn't count as a Slytherin."

Melvin draws out his wand and takes a threatening step forward but Henry blocks it by raising a firm palm.

"That's quite enough." His voice dangerously low. "Gloeckner, I'll have a word with professor Rollick later this evening. We'll see what your head of house thinks of this behaviour. Now, I want to make this very clear. To all of you."

He looks around and my cheeks burn furiously when his eyes fall on me at last. "We aren't here to pick sides, lash out at each other for their opinions and decisions, or point fingers. We are here to put our differences aside and find common ground on issues concerning the student body. Right now, all of you are exhibiting a very poor representation of your respective houses."

Gloeckner meets my eye with a death glare. I flip my hair over one shoulder and look away.

"Our new substitute Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and deputy headmaster is coming next week," Henry continues. If he has an opinion on the issue, his face doesn't show. "He's an Auror and will be appointed by the Ministry of Magic. That's all there is to discuss."

"He?" I ask, glad to have finally found my voice. "So it's confirmed that it's a man?"

Henry nods. "Headmaster Dashawn said they went to school together. So, whoever he happens to be, the fact that our headmaster knows him should be enough assurance." Nobody responds, so Henry's eyebrows shoot up in expectation as he looks around the room. "Yes?"

A couple of 'yes-es' and nods seem to satisfy him. I want to feel assured, as Henry says, but this is a man appointed by the same Ministry that deems it acceptable to imprison and murder innocent people, so the idea does little to settle my nerves. But Henry has successfully managed to not just calm the tension in the room, but also get us all on the same page, which I am relieved about.

So we sit again and the meeting proceeds as normally as any other we used to have before the scandal. We bring issues from our houses to the table, bounce around ideas and potential solutions, make strategy plans and term-length goals. The Hufflepuff Quidditch team is at a disadvantage because few members take the sport seriously; the heating system in the Slytherin common room is broken; these two Ravenclaws were caught cheating on the preparatry O.W.L. exams.

I say our house is being unjustly alienated. I say we are being treated as the disgrace of the school. I say teachers are finding any excuse to take points off. I say there was a demonstration the other day at the front courtyard where these students were holding up signs that said "Boycott Gryffindor!" and "Breeze McBon is a joke," which very well counts as harassment, I say.

Nobody listens or appears to care. Henry promises to confront the protesters, and gives another pep talk about house unity, but I know he is cleverer than that. He knows the issue is bigger, but he's just trying to walk a middle line to please both sides. Hogwarts has never been this divided before.

When the meeting is over, I am more than ready to leave the room. Henry stops me.

"Isabella, can I talk to you?" he asks.

I resist the urge to sigh, not wanting to appear rude. He still keeps calling me that. I specifically asked to be referred to as Sibi from the day I enrolled, and yet except for my friends and a couple of teachers, hardly anybody respects that choice.

"It's Sibi," I say. "What about?"

He takes a deep breath and takes off his circular glasses to clean them with the hem of his shirt. "I understand you're feeling a lot at the moment. With Polly gone, professor McBon convicted and headmaster Dashawn refusing to let on how much he knows about this whole situation . . . It's a lot for you to take, I get it. And I sympathize, believe me."

"However?"

I can tell he's walking on eggshells, trying to get to the centre of the topic as politely as possible.

"However, I don't want your emotions to cloud your rational judgment," he says. "We cannot continue to support someone who may not be as innocent as we thought, after all."

My brows furrow. "Are you insinuating something, Henry? Because you seemed to be perfectly okay with supporting Polly when the rest of us were doing the same."

"It's not her I'm talking about," he says. "She may really be innocent. In fact, I think she is. The girl couldn't lie to save her life. But I think we both can agree that what professor McBon did was sketchy. She's always seemed odd, but I cannot continue to support her on this. Not when we have no concrete facts to back us up, and Dashawn's silence isn't helping for sure. Don't you think it's all so fishy, like there's something they're trying to hush up?"

I do think that. It was all I could think about after the scandal, and Polly and Stella's arrest.

"No, I don't," I say. "You're just trying to make sure we don't get hated on for the rest of the school year and wind up losing the House Cup."

"I have to think strategically here, Sibi," he defends. "And so should you. Be sensible. Supporting someone who is showing all the red flags of wanting to get us into war with the Ministry is not just irrational, it's dangerous too. Polly is in Azkaban, and you were her 'right-wing woman', to quote the Simmons' article. You may very well be next. Have you ever thought about that?"

I have.

"I haven't," I say.

Mother told me never to look down during a conversation because it shows a lack of confidence at best, and shame or guilt at worst. I look down.

"I expect better of you." Henry sighs. "You're an intelligent girl. I know your heart is on the right place, but if you continue defending McBon's innocence without proof, that will put your credibility on the line. The whole school will turn against you in no time and—I hate to say this—but your Prefect status will be at risk."

His eyebrows arch then, and his face breaks out of its still, expressionless stance. There's a trace of sympathy on his features. I bite the inner side of my cheek, then release it. Nod.

"Your concenrs are valid." Perhaps he expects an apology, but I don't see the need for it. I understand where he's coming from, but I don't think I'm in the wrong. "I'll do better."

He gives a tight-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Very well. You may go."

I turn on my heel to leave. Just as I turn the doorknob, my eyes fall on Walcott Royce, the Ravenclaw Prefect. The sight of him stuns me. Was he waiting here all along? I narrow my eyes.

"Yes?"

He hands me a slip of parchment paper. Written in emerald ink in cursive letters are the words, I still support you. My lips part, the breath that escapes them shaky. He takes the parchment back to scribble another sentence, the answer to the question I have at the tip of the tongue but don't ask.

Rena and Ralph are my friends. I know the Simmons lied. Despite what professor McBon's motives may have been, you were just trying to do the right thing and support your friend. I would've done the same.

His eyes hold a gentle look when I meet them.

"Thank you," I say, and give him a sincere smile.

He nods and looks back at the sound of Roxanne Vance's voice calling after him. Waving at me, he turns and leaves.

I walk up to the Gryffindor tower, Henry's words following me with every step. I don't want a Ministry-appointed Auror as my head of house. Henry thinks professor McBon has underlying motives for trying to support Polly. He believes what the majority of the school does, that she tried to use Polly to stage a coup against the Ministry.

I want him to be wrong, I do. But I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't think the same. Professor McBon has always had a habit of giving too many instructions with minimal explanation and no room for questions. But this is not like one of her Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons.

I should've known something wasn't quite right the moment she asked Mike and I to spend last summer at that cottage near Polly's town, so that when she ran away, she had somewhere to go. She told us to lie and keep secrets. She told us we'd understand later. It felt wrong even then, but I didn't question it. Now I do. Every day, I do.

"Nubecula e saccharo facta," I say to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

She steps aside and I stride in. There's quite a few people in the common room. The clock reads twenty past seven. I spot Mike in an armchair by the fireplace, his nose pressed in a book. I set my book bag on a side table and take a seat on the ground opposite him.

He looks at me. Smiles.

"How was the Prefect meeting?"

I sigh and let my shoulders fall. "Disastreous. Be glad you're not a Prefect."

"Wanna talk about it?"

I shake my head.

"How about we go to Hagrid's then?" Mike asks. "He invited us over for dinner. We still have about forty minutes or so till curfew."

"Okay," I say, relieved to finally be in the presence of probably the only person who won't ever judge or turn his back on me.

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IM SO BEYOND READY FOR SIBI'S POV SO MUCH EXCITING STUFF IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN + SHE'S MY FAV BABYY

also,, working on chapters in an international flight >>> sleeping so u can avoid jetlag. my body can hate me later 😙