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In years to come, Harry would never quite remember how he had managed to get through his exams when he half expected Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment. Yet the days crept by, and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door.

It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an AntiCheating spell.

"Uh, exams." Sirius groans, remembering his.

James nods.

"Ugh, we have OWLs this year." Mary scowls.

"I hate exams." Dorcus scoffs.

"They're so hard...." Mary groans.

"Damn right," Rvan Rosier.

"Why do we even have them?"

"They're pointless!"

"Stupid exams." Barty mutters.

Regulus shakes his head.

Beatrice frowns, looking around at all of them. What were they complaining about? All the exams were so easy.

Well, they looked easy foe her. Maybe because she was always studying.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tapdance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox -- points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.

"Stupid Snape," James mutters under his breath, glaring at the screen.

Harry did the best he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his forehead, which had been bothering him ever since his trip into the forest. Neville thought Harry had a bad case of exam nerves because Harry couldn't sleep, but the truth was that Harry kept being woken by his old nightmare, except that it was now worse than ever because there was a hooded figure dripping blood in it.

Maybe it was because they hadn't seen what Harry had seen in the forest, or because they didn't have scars burning on their foreheads, but Ron and Hermione didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Harry.

The idea of Voldemort certainly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in dreams, and they were so busy with their studying they didn't have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.

Aranya had no idea how to feel, she was worried yes. But Harry didn't know what to feel around her, she was a tough book to read.

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented selfstirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry couldn't help cheering with the rest.

𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓶 𝓓𝓸𝔀𝓷 | 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳  𝚆𝚃𝙼 Where stories live. Discover now