Spellbound → Hermione Granger [1] ✔

I 14 I Enchantments

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I contemplated having this as two chapters instead of a long one but felt that it worked better together. So, apologies for its length if you don't like that sort of thing. I hope you enjoy it.

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The next day, Harry showed Alexander, Hermione, and Ron his recovered Invisibility Cloak. Someone allegedly had placed it on Harry's bed last night with a note that said: Just in Case. None of them had any clue who could have sent the Cloak back to Harry. Alexander suggested that it was very likely the same person who sent the Cloak in the first place. Who, however, was yet to be uncovered. The Cloak lay untouched in Harry's trunk for at least a couple of weeks. None of the group had a chance to use it again because exams had crept upon the first-years.

For Alexander, there was no chance to consider anything except studying and exams. Much of his time was spent in the library, scouring through textbooks, remembering last-minute details for spells and recipes; stirring clockwise, adding porcupine quills for the finishing touch, flicking the wrist instead of poking. His stomach was balled up with apprehension in anticipating the first test.

Hermione's hair became bushier when her stress levels rose and she'd murmur answers to herself, much to Ron's disgruntlement. The redhead was much more relaxed than anyone should be when it came to exams, in his opinion, but Alexander wasn't somebody to nag, unlike Hermione. Harry's eyes glazed over whenever he read over his notes as if his mind were not truly focused on it. Harry appeared on high-alert constantly and snapped to attention so much as if a door slammed audibly. Alexander couldn't blame him. He'd act the same way if he had a deranged psychopath after him as well; he half-expected Voldemort to burst through the door at any moment, wielding his wand out at Harry, but Alexander would be ready with his own wand, keen to defend his friend. Yet, the days crept by, and Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door and no Voldemorts appeared out of thin air.

The days of the exams were sweltering hot and the sun's rays were at full blast. It was ironic – and slightly cruel according to the majority of the students in the castle who grumbled and moaned to each other and teachers each chance they received – that the few summer days the UK had were spent inside instead of soaking up the warmth. People longed to sprawl out on the grassy areas or take food outside from the Great Hall for picnics but, rather, were bogged down by the imminent tests.

Alexander did not fully mind missing the warm weather as winter was more his season. He found that in the winter he could at least manage his temperature easily by adding layers of clothing or sitting in front of the great fire in the common room. But in the summer, it seemed that no matter how many layers he removed through robes, jumpers, or unbuttoning his collar shirt, he still felt sweaty. It'd probably be simpler to completely remove his top, but Alexander didn't fancy walking around without a shirt on because of the slight discomfort he'd feel if everyone's eyes were on his bare chest. Besides, he'd probably get into trouble by Filch or Professor McGonagall.