Neville Longbottom stood a few paces away.
He was not wearing the traditional black robes, but a dark gray tactical trench coat-the outfit the Marauders Company had given Hogwarts prefects and the Head Boy and Head Girl.
Most striking of all was the Prefect Badge on his left breast, gleaming red and gold in the corridor's dim light.
"Put your wand away, Warrington."
Neville spoke slowly, working hard to keep himself from stammering as he had in the past.
"This is a public corridor, not your dungeon."
Warrington froze for a moment, then burst into a wildly exaggerated, hollow laugh.
He eyed Neville sidelong, his expression one of mockery.
Warrington pointed his wand at the badge on Neville's chest, his tone dripping with contempt.
"I can't believe my eyes. Has Dumbledore exiled all the lions from Gryffindor?
He actually made someone who can't even handle a cauldron a prefect? Is that badge stuck to your clothes with slug slime, Longbottom?"
Pucey joined in with a shrill, mocking laugh:
"Maybe Director Black at the Academic Affairs Office has gone blind. After all, he's busy dealing with that deputy director the Ministry of Magic sent over. How would he have time for trivial staffing decisions like this?"
Neville did not rise to the bait. He neither flushed with anger nor shouted back.
He simply stood where he was, his feet slightly apart, in a stance that yielded no ground.
"I'll say this one last time."
Neville looked past the two tall boys, his gaze settling squarely on the third-year boy cowering in the corner.
"Dennis, come over here along the wall on your right. Stand behind me."
"I didn't give him permission to move."
Warrington immediately stepped sideways, completely blocking Dennis's escape with his massive frame.
He raised his chin slightly and