The Tale of the Prefect, the Chessboard, and the Killer Rabbit





“That one over there’s a prefect.”

Ron bent his head over his bowl of porridge and spooned the last of it into his mouth. The spoon clattered on the sides and drowned out the noises around him. It was early, way too early to be up.

“Pardon?”

“Huh?” Ron looked round and let the spoon drop into the empty bowl. Two absolutely miniscule people were standing behind him, one in front of the other.

The boy, with big ears and freckles, he remembered vaguely as Euan something or other, sorted into Gryffindor two nights previously. The girl had ash-blonde hair and a very wide mouth with thin lips unable to hide her pronounced, rabbit-like front teeth.

“Are – are you a prefect?”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah I am!” Ron thrust his chest with the prefect’s badge out and dragged a hand through his windswept hair to try and make himself a bit more presentable. It was early.

His hand got stuck in his hair and he pulled and pulled, eventually giving up and leaving his hair in an even greater mess than before.

“Go on, Ellie,” Euan said, giving the girl an impatient nudge. She was staring at her shoes, her front teeth chewing on her bottom lip.

“Is something the matter, Ellie?” Ron asked.

“It’s nothing, really,” she said eventually, making Euan groan behind her.

“You know that Malfoy in fifth year?” Euan broke in.

“Yeah,” Ron said, his eyes immediately going to the almost deserted Slytherin table.

“Well, he’s gone and stolen Ellie’s chess set!”

“Has he really?” The combination of audacious theft by someone already rich, Malfoy perpetrating on first years and chess was making Ron’s blood boil, despite the early hour. “Oh, that’s excellent! I will get him for that, maybe I can even get them to take away his prefect’s privileges!”

Euan nodded enthusiastically but the little girl was suddenly looking terrified.

“Please, I don’t want him to get punished! I just wanted…”

“What? Of course he needs to get punished, it’s Malfoy! And he’s stolen something!”

“You don’t understand…” Ellie was wringing her hands and kept glancing around like she was worried about eavesdroppers.

“No, I don’t,” Ron agreed, now looking round himself. It was past seven and students had begun trickling in, although there was no sign of Malfoy, yet.

“Ah, Harry! Hermione!” Ron waved at his friends, the former looking tired and the latter rather excited, she had a book in hand like she had been reading on the way down from the dormitories.

Euan gave an odd yelp and hurried off down the table. Ellie took a step back, too, but then hastened to say:

“She can’t find out about – please forget what I told you. Please!”

“Fine,” Ron sad doubtfully. He stared after her as she left the Great Hall rather than follow Euan to where the other Gryffindor first years were huddled in a group further down the table.

“Morning.” Harry had sat down opposite him and began buttering some toast, looking uncharacteristically miserable.

“You look dead on your feet,” Ron said sympathetically while Hermione took the seat next to him. “Got your first detention with Umbridge tonight?”

“Yep. I bet it’ll be awful.”

“Don’t say that, you don’t know what it’ll be like yet,” Hermione said and helped herself to tea. “She seems wholly out of touch with the educational world, doesn’t she, maybe she’ll think writing lines or something is adequate punishment?”

“Mmm. Wish Hagrid was here, I was looking forward to seeing him.”

Ron exchanged a look with Hermione, who raised an eyebrow at him before pointedly looking down at the sliver of space between them on the bench. Ron’s Cleansweep 11 was currently taking up the whole lot.

“What’s that doing here?” Hermione whispered.

“Nothing… I just, er… Just fancied a quick spin on it, that’s all.”

Hermione snorted and had a careful sip from her steaming mug.

“It’s brand new!” Ron protested, trying to speak so quietly Harry wouldn’t hear. Harry seemed wholly occupied by staring at the staff table, though, probably locked in another of his glaring-based duels to the death with Snape. “What’re you looking so smug about, anyway?”

“All the knitted hats I left out for the house elves are gone!”



Ron couldn’t even remember what he’d said in reply, but apparently it was bad enough to merit Hermione ignoring him for all of Charms and Transfiguration. Since Harry was acting all moody again it left him plenty of time to consider Ellie and Malfoy and the chess game. He knew he’d been told to forget it, but the knowledge that Malfoy had done something foul again wasn’t something he could just ignore. There was also something about the girl that kept tugging at some emotion in him. She’d looked completely out of place, and he was left with the sad impression she’d agree with that assessment.



During Care of Magical Creatures Ron had the opportunity to check out Malfoy. Other than hinting at all the horrible things that might’ve happened to Hagrid and thus explain his absence (Grubbly-Plank was teaching) there didn’t seem to be much new with him. It didn’t look as if he was carrying a stolen chess set with him, indeed Ron found himself wondering what someone like Malfoy would do with a chess set? If he played chess (which Ron very much doubted), then surely his precious daddy must have bought him one made from something ridiculous like solid gold that he played with?

The only reason Ron could think of was that there was no reason, or at least that chess wasn’t it. Malfoy must’ve decided to pick on a random Gryffindor first year, he’d probably picked Ellie because she seemed timid and lost, an easy target that wouldn’t fight back. Or maybe (Ron found himself getting worked up again), maybe he’d decided to pick on Ellie because she had funny teeth.



Ron kept looking around at dinner, trying to spot her. He found Euan, whose ears made him stand out, but she didn’t seem to be near him, nor anywhere else at the Gryffindor table. Harry had to leave early for detention, and once left alone with Hermione, Ron remembered what he was supposed to focus on and he rifled through his head for a plausible excuse to go off on his own.

“What are you doing tonight?” Hermione asked him brightly as they walked up the marble staircase together.

“Maybe some homework,” Ron said shiftily.

“Oh yeah, you and Harry have loads left, haven’t you?”

“What’re you going to do, knit more bladder-shaped gifts for the elves?”

“I’m going to the library,” Hermione said coldly, turning an abrupt right down a corridor that would take her on an unnecessary detour.

Ron quenched the feeling of guilt by congratulating himself on how quickly he’d gotten rid of her, then he jogged up several more staircases, eventually turning into the corridor with the Fat Lady.

“Mimbulus Mimbletonia.”

The portrait swung open and he hurried through, then straight upstairs to get his broom.

“Are you going to fly in this weather?” George asked him when he’d run back downstairs; the twins were alone in the common room together with a group of first years and a clip board.

“Need to clear my thoughts,” Ron said.

“What thoughts? Surely there can’t be multiple inside that thick skull of yours?”

One of the first years giggled at Fred’s joke and Ron patted the prefect badge on his chest and attempted to give the child a stern look. He noted immediately that Ellie wasn’t amongst the group.

“Is this another test group for the fainting fancies? You better not let Hermione see any of this, or she will write to Mum.”

“And you’ll lick the envelope for her?”

“I don’t want any involvement.”

Ron walked back to the portrait hole and as he climbed back out he heard Fred say:

“You heard him, right? There’s a lesson to be learned here, which is as follows: only weak prats become prefects.”

Ron’s ears burnt. He wanted to shout back at them that he wasn’t a weak prat, that that wasn’t anywhere in the job description. Besides, he hadn’t even asked for the damned prefect’s badge in the first place. He could admit (at least to himself) that he’d been picked because there’d been no other candidate. But prestigious a title as it sounded, he thought he had most of the qualities needed all the same. Especially if you considered the inevitable: that the other prefect from Gryffindor was always going to be paired with Hermione. She could impart the rules and the moral high ground, but that still left the job of showing new kids the ropes, the real ropes and not just what every section of the library contained. Someone who was approachable, too, so the kids who didn’t take as naturally to keeping all toes the right side of the line had someone to turn to if things went tits up.

If Ron was completely honest with himself, he’d been sure Harry would get the badge. Harry had been the one who was singled out at every opportunity, and hadn’t he always been Dumbledore’s favourite? It had seemed like a gross oversight, at first, but the more Ron had thought about it, the more he realized that Harry had said it best himself. He’d gotten into too much trouble, just like the twins had, just like Sirius had before him. His record was stained on every available page, whereas Ron’s wasn’t. Well, maybe a blob of ink here and there, but at least Ron hadn’t fought a basilisk on the premises.

He decided to take a route that’d take him out of the way of the scores of students returning to their dormitories from dinner. He passed through the mirage corridor on the fourth floor and jogged down the swearing staircase before finding himself in the abandoned alchemy corridor. Bill had told him spooky stories about it and Ron felt goosebumps erupt all over his arms and neck as he carefully stepped through the dust and the cobwebs. Apparently, there dwelled a spirit so frightening here, that they had had to stop giving lessons here. Two pupils had had to be sent to St Mungo’s after their 2 o’clock Friday class. They were, or so Bill swore, still there.

“Oh, it’s you!” Realizing this a second too late, Ron dropped his broomstick with a thud, and he scrambled over the dust-heavy stone floor to get it back in his hands, then hugged it to himself.

“You gave me a fright,” Ellie said dully, without looking at him. She was standing in an alcove, chewing on her bottom lip again, reminding Ron of a dust bunny.

“You know this corridor’s supposed to be haunted?”

“I thought the whole castle was,” Ellie said.

“Yeah, but not… Sure, I s’pose that’s true.” Ron hesitated, looking down at his broom, then at the colourless girl in the shadows. “Say, why don’t you tell me what happened? With your chess set?”

“I don’t want the teachers to find out about it.”

“That’s fine, I won’t go to any of the professors,” Ron promised her. “I just want to hear what happened. You see, I don’t like Malfoy much, either.”

“I don’t know him at all,” Ellie said quickly, eyeing the tips of her shoes sticking out from underneath her robes.

“Right,” Ron said encouragingly.

“Well, I have this rather nice chess set. Jade pieces, they talk and we get on really well. It belonged to my mother before, but they’ve always liked me, the chess pieces. I was showing it to some of the others last night, after dinner. We got talking to some of the first year Ravenclaws. There was an hour left until curfew, so we’d gone to sit in the mirror hall.”

“Next to the trophy room, right?”

“Yes. Then it got late and we were a bit worried about finding our way back. We had split with the Ravenclaws and we weren’t sure where we were, anymore, so we asked for directions from one of the prefects patrolling the corridors.”

“And that prefect was Malfoy?” Ron asked grimly.

Ellie nodded at her shoes. “And a girl, as well.”

“Parkinson,” Ron muttered. “So, what, you asked for directions and they replied by stealing your chess game?”

“He said… They said…” the girl slunk back further until she was completely covered in darkness, until only her pearly white front teeth were visible. “They said a mudblood like me didn’t deserve a chess set like that.”

Ron’s knuckles whitened around the broomstick, he was gripping it so hard. He found he could barely speak from anger.

“You should’ve gone straight to a teacher!”

The girl didn’t respond.

“Malfoy’s full of shit,” Ron continued, trying to sound calm. “You shouldn’t pay him any attention. If you’re a muggleborn you might not know it, but his father is famous for being a Death Eater. One of You-Know-Who’s men. The whole family is bigoted, just rotten to the core. Bad genes.”

The girl’s breathing seemed to grow heavier, but she still wouldn’t say anything.

“Tell you what,” Ron mused, “I’ll give it a think and see if I can come up with a way of stealing it back for you. I might’ve sneaked into the Slytherin Common Room once or twice before in my time.”

“I would like my chess pieces back,” Ellie whispered. She sounded close to tears.

“Leave it with me,” Ron said confidently. “And chin up! You go join the other firsties and get to know them. Everyone’s new and feeling a bit scared and overwhelmed, so this is the right time to get out there and make friends.”

“Ok.”

“And don’t listen to anyone who tells you that your parentage matters,” Ron said sternly. “Bye now, take care!”

“Bye!”



“Hey Harry, can I borrow your invisibility cloak tonight while you’re in detention?”

Harry had been examining the back of his hand with an almost feverish amount of attention, but he snapped out of it and looked up with a puzzled look.

“Er – sure. What d’you need it for?”

This was the clincher; indeed Ron couldn’t quite remember if he’d promised the girl he wouldn’t tell anyone about what had happened to her, or if it was just the professors he needed to keep out of it.

“I thought I’d nip down to the kitchens,” he said, which wasn’t a complete lie. “I’m actually a bit worried about the elves.”

“You’re what?” Harry asked bewilderedly.

“Hermione’s knitting project,” Ron explained in a low voice. “I’m worried about how they’re taking it, reckon they might be massively offended. Thought I’d go smooth things over, make sure they’ll not start spitting in our food or something.”

“Knock yourself out,” Harry said, shrugging. Ron thought it seemed like he was far away again, but for once it suited Ron just fine. He patted his mate on the shoulder in thanks and went up to the dormitory to get the cloak.



Three chocolate eclairs and an amusing chat with Dobby later, Ron began creeping into the bowels of the castle, now hidden under Harry’s cloak of invisibility. There were still students returning from dinner, in fact Ron had timed it perfectly. He spotted two students who might’ve been third years, they were walking in the direction of the Slytherin common room.

He walked behind them, keeping in step with one of them so they wouldn’t hear. They were talking about Umbridge’s class, and Ron felt at least some small satisfaction when he heard how bad they, too, thought her classes were.

“Shedding skin,” one of the Slytherins said to the wall Ron knew wasn’t really a wall at all. He watched it melt away to reveal a long room lit with greenish lanterns along the wall and a black and silver chandelier in the middle. The Slytherins stepped through and Ron, keeping as close to the last one as he dared, followed.

The boldness of what he had just done crashed over him when he saw that the Slytherin common room was full of students, big and small. The third years he’d followed had been waved over by some of their friends, who were seated in hovering, silvery seats that were floating near the far wall, where the walls weren’t roughly hewn stone but glass. The Giant Squid was right outside, three or four of its eyes focused interestedly on the people on the other side of the glass.

Ron was left standing alone and invisible near the door. Almost immediately he had to step out of the way as some burly seventh years marched past, headed for the exit.

Then Ron spotted him: Malfoy. Of course he was sprawled in the biggest sofa in front of the fire, taking up three or four spots on his own. Crabbe, Goyle and a slightly older boy Ron thought might be called Selwyn were sitting in chairs around him.

Ron headed over, almost forgetting himself halfway and having to quickly sidestep Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass, who came at him arm in arm, giggling at something and fortunately not paying attention to their surroundings.

Two more steps and Ron was there behind the sofa, looking down into Draco Malfoy’s pointy pale face. Malfoy, of course, was the one talking.

“… they should never have let her into the school. Any other headmaster would surely have put a stop to it. Her magical skills must be abysmal, considering her lineage, and that’s before taking into consideration the damage in reputation her mere existence brings to your family.”

Here, Malfoy paused to wave his hand at the boy sitting between Crabbe and Goyle.

“Keep your voice down a bit, will you, Draco.”

Malfoy frowned. Ron fought the urge to let some spit drip onto his face, which was straight below.

“I’m grateful, though, that you managed to take it from her. You said it had the mark on it? I’ll have to ask my dad, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it’s the real deal. You see, his granddad played wizarding chess professionally.”

Ron stood stock still, his mind spinning. He didn’t understand any of that. What mark?

“It’s in my dormitory,” Malfoy was saying. “Would you like to see it?”

“I mean, seeing as it’s likely mine, anyway…”

“Goyle, go fetch it. It’s on my bedside table.”

Breathing hard, Ron watched Gregory Goyle lumber up from his chair, his long, muscly arms swinging. Ron sneaked after him, fortunately he didn’t have to worry much about extra noises as Goyle’s massive feet drowned most everything out.

The Slytherin dormitories were not up a flight of stairs, but rather scattered along a green-lit corridor. Ron followed Goyle all the way to the second-to-last door, which Goyle opened by muttering another password. Raising an eyebrow and wondering why the Slytherins needed passwords to protect themselves from the students in their own house, Ron slunk into the dormitory just before the door shut. It was larger than the Gryffindor dormitories, with a group of sofas in the centre of the room and dark fourposters with emerald-coloured sheets along the wall. Noting to his great relief that it was empty; Ron raised his wand underneath the cloak and said “Stupefy!”

The jinx worked immediately and Goyle tumbled unconscious to the floor. Ron hurried past him; he’d been moving towards the bed in the middle. On the bedside table there was an elegant cherrywood box, inlaid with gold. Ron found that he’d half been expecting the infamous Dark Mark, but this definitely wasn’t it, it looked more like an “S” than anything. Ron took it, noting how heavy it was, and hid it inside the cloak.

He stepped over Goyle and hurried out of the dormitory and back along the corridor. Opening the door to the common room, he suddenly realized his mistake. Malfoy, Crabbe and the boy potentially called Selwyn were all staring at the door expectantly, and now it had opened and nobody visible passed through it. Swearing under his breath, Ron wound past some boys playing exploding snap on the floor and reached the end of the room, just as both Malfoy and Crabbe got up and began walking towards the dormitories.

The door melted away at Ron’s touch, and he heard distinctly how a girl’s voice asked who had opened the door.

Ron set off at a run, not even caring if someone could hear his steps, just needing to put as much distance between himself and the Slytherin common room as possible.

“Oof!”

Past the kitchens he’d turned a corner without pausing and run straight into –

“Hey, it’s someone underneath an invisibility cloak!”

“Gerroff!”

“Ron!?”

Fred and George’s surprised and rather amused faces ogled his freshly bared head and shoulders, then George pulled the rest of the cloak off, looking wonderingly at it.

“It’s Harry’s,” Ron said quickly and got back on his feet, rubbing his head with one hand and holding out his other for it.

“Oh yeah? Is this Harry’s, too?”

Fred had picked up the cherrywood box and was turning it around in his hand, whistling quietly.

“No. What’re you two doing here, anyway?”

The twins glanced at each other.

“We’re looking for a nice, quiet spot to take our first years to this weekend.”

“We need to test our tooth-loss candyfloss away from prying eyes… McGonagall almost caught us when we tried to use one of the spare classrooms in the Charms corridor, and obviously we can’t do it in Gryffindor Tower anymore.”

“So you thought you’d take your test subjects down here?” Ron hesitated, looking round. There was a spare classroom in front of him and he gestured a bit awkwardly at it.

“I say George, isn’t this most un-prefectly behaviour of our dear brothers that you’ve ever seen? Luring his lowly elders into a classroom I know for a fact is only used for midnight snogging?”

“I promise I’m not coming onto you,” Ron said annoyedly and walked inside.

“This where you take Angelina?” George asked Fred amusedly, looking around.

“A gentleman never tells.”

“I’ll ask her, then.”

“Can I have the cloak and the chess set back,” Ron said, suddenly realizing the twins were still holding his things.

“Only if you spill.”’

“Well, if you must know, I’ve just broken into the Slytherin common room,” Ron said, not quite managing to reign in the smugness.

“Ah yes, they’re not half-worried about security, are they?”

“Did you write a message on the glass wall with the squid? Drives them mad when they think someone in their own ranks is spreading filthy gossip about them.”

“Remember when I wrote a message saying Snape was planning to quit teaching because he’d been offered a better salary to write as the Agony Aunt for Witch Weekly? That’s the only time I’ve heard of him giving detention to students from his won house, apparently he became extremely offended when they asked him about it.”

“I needed to retrieve something,” Ron said and, hesitating only for a moment, he told the whole story to Fred and George.

“You decided to help a muggleborn by retrieving said muggleborn’s magical chessboard, one she’d inherited from her mother?”

Ron opened his mouth, then quickly closed it again.

Fred shook his head at him. George was examining the ornamental “S”-like symbol on the chessboard.

“You’re right, that doesn’t add up,” Ron said regretfully. “I got so eager to – I mean… She seemed lonely, you know. And Malfoy definitely called her a you-know-what. Or, well…” Ron frowned and wracked his brains, trying to remember. “He talked about her as though she wasn’t quite human…”

“And that’s how he generally thinks of muggleborns,” Fred said, nodding sagely. “When’s the last time you saw the girl? Ellie?”

“I didn’t even get her last name,” Ron said. “I saw her in the alchemy corridor. You know the one Bill always talked about…”

“Oh yeah, the one with the killer rabbit?”

“The what?”

“I remember!” George said fondly. “It was more a ghoul than a ghost, wasn’t it? Might’ve been a zombie. Anyway, it knew how to take the shape of a rabbit and a girl, it switched between the two. It used to hide in the teacher’s cupboard in alchemy. Bill said the killer rabbit came to be when all of these kids, way, way back in the day, bullied this student, a girl, for being a swot, or something like that. Probably she played gobstones and owned a toad, you know the type. The bullying got worse and worse each day until one day in alchemy class, the last class before the Christmas holiday. the other students locked her into the teacher’s cupboard and left her there. Probably didn’t think twice about it, but once they got back from their holidays they began noticing this smell…”

“That’s horrible!” Ron shuddered.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure Bill just made it up.”

“So, this is the corridor you met the girl in?”

“Er,” Ron said, swallowing harshly several times. It felt like he had an entire dust bunny stuck in his throat. “Er, George, are you sure you got the details completely right?”

“No, of course not,” George said impatiently. “Why?”

“It couldn’t have been a little girl who was a swot because she played chess and owned a pet rabbit, could it?”

The twins stared at him, then looked at each other. Seconds passed, then both burst out laughing, the noise rippling through the room, making Ron jump and curse his nerves.

“It’s just a ghost story, Ron! Surely you would have been able to tell the difference between a ghost or a zombie and a live little girl?”

“Yeah… Yeah, ‘course I would’ve.”

“Good. I was getting worried for your sanity there, mate.”

Ron shook his head annoyedly.

“So, in summation, we have a poor firstie whose chess set was stolen by Malfoy, and you’ve chivalrously stolen it back?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, no harm done, then? You better go and return it to her.” George handed him the box.

“And this to young Harry,” Fred continued, giving Ron the cloak.

The twins left, smirking to each other like they’d had a whale of a time. Ron was left standing in the darkness, thinking hard.



Ron didn’t see Ellie at breakfast, nor at lunch. He couldn’t focus on his lessons, nor keep up any semblance of conversation with Harry and Hermione. He couldn’t stop wondering if Ellie was real or not.

It came to a head just after lunch, when the bell had already rung for the next lesson, and he ran up to and stopped tiny little Euan Abercrombie in the Entrance Hall, demanding to know where Ellie was. Harry and Hermione stopped to stare at him, both looking shocked, and it seemed to Ron that Harry’s presence maybe had an adverse effect on Euan. He was shaking like an aspen leaf.

“She’s around,” he stammered, glancing left and right like he was looking for an escape route. “Her last name’s Selbridge.”

“Ellie Selbridge,” Ron said, tasting the name and finding it distinctly normal. Human. “Well, you tell Ellie Selbridge I’ve got her chessboard.”

“Ok,” Euan breathed and slipped from his grip, running pell-mell out the front doors and off towards the greenhouses.

“Ron!” Hermione said, pulling his arm to make him move (they were late for Charms). “What on earth was that about? You’re a prefect, you should be more respectful when you talk to other students.”

Ron bristled and turned to look at her. She’d taken out a small mirror from her schoolbag and was checking her teeth for remnants of food. Ron stared idly at her front teeth. They were normal-sized, now, but only a year ago they’d been big and protuberant and probably the most noticeable thing about her. He felt an odd tug in the region of his stomach.

“What’s going on?” Harry said in a low voice as they neared Flitwick’s door.

“I’ll tell you later,” Ron said, then: “Can I borrow your cloak tonight as well?”

“Sure,” Harry said with a shrug.



After dinner, Ron walked the abandoned alchemy corridor. He was carrying the cloak, but also the chess set and his broom. He stopped outside the classroom, the one where Bill had said the girl had died in. The door had been left ajar.

Ron raised his hand, it hovered in the air. He was almost certain that there was someone in there. Something.

Before he could come to a decision, he heard footsteps further down the corridor. Was it one or two? A strange echo. He waited, and soon enough was rewarded.

“Hi!” Ellie said nervously, her tiny steps coming to a halt, same as the echo behind her. For the first time she was looking up into his eyes, and he saw immediately that he had been wrong. This was someone wholly human. She even smiled, be it tentatively, showing her very large front teeth.

Ron held out the chess set and saw her eyes swim with emotion.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” Ron said modestly and he thrust out his chest, almost feeling a pleasant burn from the badge he carried. “If it’s alright, I do have a question, though.”

“What is it?”

“Why did Malfoy target you? Does he know you from somewhere?”

Ellie had stopped smiling; she was gnawing on her bottom lip again and hugging the box with the chess pieces to her chest.

“No, he doesn’t know me. Not at all.”

“But you’re not really a muggleborn, are you?”

“I am, too!” Ellie said fiercely, and Ron felt his heart sink. She seemed to be set on lying to him.

“A muggleborn who’s inherited a magical chessboard?” Ron asked, hearing Fred’s voice in his ear. How stupid had he been?

“I’m the daughter of two squibs,” Ellie bit out, her face becoming even paler than before and all remnants of eye contact disappearing. “I reckon that counts as muggleborn.”

“Oh!” Ron blurted out, his ears becoming uncomfortably red in second-hand embarrassment. “Oh.”

They were quiet for several seconds, then Ellie turned to leave.

“Wait a sec, don’t go! I think it’s fine to have parents who are… I mean, both of my best friends grew up with muggles, you know… What’s the S stand for, then? Your friend Euan said it was Selbridge?”

“My mother was called Selwyn,” Ellie said, sounding uncomfortable. “And I know about them already, about that family! Bad genes, just like the Malfoys.”

“We can’t help who we’re related to,” Ron said uncomfortably. “But Selwyn’s… Yeah…” He was trying not to think of the list he’d found, many years ago, on the bottom of an old and broken kettle, stuffed furthest back in one of his Mum’s cupboards. It was a list of names of her brothers’ killers. “So, ‘Sel’ is for Selwyn. Where does the ‘bridge’ come from?”

Ellie’s eyes filled with tears and she pulled the chess board even closer to her chest. Then she ran.



Ron wasn’t sure how long he stood there for, mulling things over. It might have just been a couple of minutes.

He was rudely awoken out of his reveries by a voice that shouted: “Petrificus Totalus!”

Ron’s arms and legs snapped together, broom and cloak falling to the ground, hitting it just before he did. His back produced a nasty crack, but he couldn’t even grunt in pain.

Malfoy stepped over him, smiling coldly.

“So, it was you, was it? Or both you and Potter? You stole from me.”

Ron managed to roll his eyes, the only things he could move, because really, stealing from Malfoy? Taking back what Malfoy had stolen, more like.

“Shame that’s who the wench’s father is, though. Means she’s out of bounds from now on. Wonder what her auntie will give to keep it a secret, though. Squib ancestry, tut-tut.”

Malfoy was quiet for a bit, his wand pointing lazily at Ron and his eyes far away. Then he glanced back down, his face twisting into a mean grin.

“Tell you what, Weasel, you aren’t out of bounds. Seeing as you’ve got nobody of any importance whatsoever in your family tree, squib ancestry or no. That means I can break your broomstick in half and stick the pieces into any orifices I can find. It’s not like you’d need a broomstick for anything, anyway.”

Ron’s heart sank like a stone, his wild, wild dreams going up in smoke in front of his eyes at the same time as terror prickled up his spine. Malfoy looked like he meant business, he was bending over to retrieve Ron’s new Cleansweep, his brand-new pride and joy. His grand hope for keeper’s try-outs tomorrow.

Malfoy’s fingers had just brushed the broom handle when the door crashed open behind him with such noise and force that Malfoy toppled onto all fours, his terrified face inches from Ron’s petrified one.

“I’m the killer rabbit coming to bum you to death!” a high-pitched voice yelled, followed by a childish giggle.

Barely glancing round, Malfoy screamed like all hell was loose, using one hand to push himself off the floor and one to cover his behind, he got up from the compromising position and skidded off down the corridor, shouting at the top of his voice.

Ron stared at the killer rabbit, the ghost, the zombie, the ghoul, the terrifying little girl. It had faded ginger braids and large, badly torn ears sticking out of its head. The front teeth were huge and stained, its rubbery skin seemed to be falling off it in slabs. There was a pair of scissors sticking out of a gaping wound in its neck, caked blood all over, bloodstains on its old-fashioned grey dress and pinafore. And the eyes – the eyes… The eyes were staring straight at him. Ron couldn’t move a muscle, and the menacing figure was towering over him. In fact, it was very tall and large for being a little girl, or indeed a rabbit.

“Boo!”

Ron’s whimper was heard by no one, but there was another noise coming from inside the classroom. It took Ron several seconds to understand what it was, so engrossed in his own fear was he. Then he realized it was laughter.

“What d’you think of my new look, eh, Ronnie?”

“Finite incantatem!” said George, stepping out from the abandoned alchemy classroom.

Ron sat up like a shot, gasping for air like he’d just run a marathon. He was staring widely from Fred to George, and back, because Fred…

“Out of the two of us, I always reckoned I would’ve made the better girl,” Fred said nonchalantly, crouching next to Ron.

Ron blinked. Now he could see that it was all makeup and some hastily transfigured bedsheets and a floating pair of scissors.

“We scared Malfoy pretty well, though, eh?”

“Indeed you did,” Ron said weakly, taking a hand each of the twins had extended to him to pull him to his feet.



“I know it’s only been a couple of days, but it feels like ages since we’ve caught up properly,” Harry said, smiling. “Something happened in Umbridge’s detention that I probably should – yeah, anyway. Same with Hermione, I caught her earlier and told her we needed to spend the evening together.”

“Sounds great! I feel bad about Hermione, actually, I sort of blew her off earlier when something else came up…”

“Yeah? She sounded happy about tonight, even suggested we play some chess, even though she knows you’ll win.”

“Yeah?” Ron grinned hugely; he could barely contain himself.

“Ok, just tell me already, what’ve you been up to?”

“Oh, nothing special,” Ron said with a modest shrug. “Just prefect duties, you know.”