'...Ron, I'll have to get you more pyjamas, these are at least six inches too short, I can't believe how fast you're growing ... what colour would you like?'
'Get him red and gold to match his badge,' said George, smirking.
'Match his what?' said Mrs Weasley absently, rolling up a pair of maroon socks and placing them on Ron's pile.
'His badge,' said Fred, with the air of getting the worst over quickly. 'His lovely shiny new prefect's badge.'
Fred's words took a moment to penetrate Mrs Weasley's preoccupation with pyjamas.
'His ... but ... Ron, you're not ...?'
Ron held up his badge.
Mrs Weasley let out a shriek just like Hermione's.
'I don't believe it! I don't believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That's everyone in the family!'
'What are Fred and I, next-door neighbours?' said George indignantly, as his mother pushed him aside and flung her arms around her youngest son.