sugar & spice

chapter thirty

"And...quills down, everyone." The proctor at the front of the Great Hall smiled placidly. "I do hope the exam was neither too nasty nor exhausting."

Weak laughter rippled throughout the hall. The joke wasn't particularly funny, but after a week of grueling examinations that were nasty and exhausting, most students would laugh at just about anything, Hermione included.

With a flick of her wand, the proctor levitated the exams and summoned them toward her where they landed in neat stacks atop the staff and faculty table. She nodded briskly. "Splendid. As the charms' N.E.W.T was the final exam on the schedule, on behalf of the Department of Education within the Ministry of Magic, it is my supreme honor to congratulate you all on completing your N.E.W.Ts. Well done!"

Someone in the back of the hall whooped loudly, setting off a cheer that persisted even as the students filtered out of the hall and into the corridor.

"Hermione!"

At the sounds of her name, she turned, wincing in apology when she knocked into a seventh year Hufflepuff. Ginny elbowed her way through the crowd, grinning.

"How do you think you did?" Ginny rolled her eyes. "Never mind. Piece of cake for you, wasn't it?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. The last question didn't bother taking into account that vinegar is produced by the oxidation of ethanol and is, therefore, a reversion and not a transformation making the entire concept-"

"Shut up." Ginny held up her hands. "No offense, but bloody hell, Hermione, I could not give less of a shite at this point, okay? We're done." She shook her head, her braid whipping from side to side. "Done! No more exams, no more classes, no more, never again. I relinquish you from ever needing to explain charms to me. And you can include potions and transfiguration and...Gods, all of it, in that moratorium. I don't need a mastery level understanding of anything academic to play Quidditch. All I need to know is how to fly a broom."

"Fly it well, you mean." An arm banded around Hermione's waist as Draco sidled up beside her.

Ginny scoffed. "I fly better than you, at any rate, Malfoy."

"In your dreams, Weasley," Draco said, but he smiled, softening the taunt.

"In yours, ferret." Ginny grinned brightly.

Draco smirked. "False. My dreams are pleasantly occupied by this one here." He squeezed Hermione to his side in a rare public display that made her flush. "And Theo, too. So you can see, my sleeping hours are busy enough without you intruding. Though, need I remind you who won the Quidditch cup this year?"

Slytherin had bested Gryffindor in the final match, securing the cup, much to Draco's satisfaction. There was the chance that some of that satisfaction might've had to do with the very personal congratulations she and Theo had given him in the Prefects' bath later that evening. Just thinking about that night was enough to make her blush from the tips of her toes to her scalp, the memory of Theo with his hand wrapped around Draco's neck as he took him hard and fast from-

Merlin, now was not the time or place to be thinking of that.

Ginny wrinkled her nose. "I could've gone my entire life without hearing about your sordid dreams." She shivered. "Yuck."

"I never said they were sordid." Draco shrugged. "It's not my fault your mind resides in the gutter."

"Whose mind is in the gutter?" The scent of cloves filled her nose seconds before Theo pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Yours," Draco said, grinning cheekily.

Theo laughed. "Duh."

Ginny stuck out her tongue. "And on that note, I'm gone. See you at the feast?"