𝟏𝟖

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖: 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫

In years to come, I would never quite remember how I had managed to get through my exams when I half expected Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment. I know it's insane. 

 It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where we did our written papers. We had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an anti-cheating spell. 

 We had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called us one by one into his class to see if we 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 us all nervous, breathing down our necks while we tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion. 

Our very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons and we'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until our exam results came out. 

When the ghost of Professor Binns told us to put down our quills and roll up our parchment, I couldn't help cheering with the rest.

 "That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione as we joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager." 

 Hermione always liked to go through our exam papers afterward, but Ron said this made him feel ill, so we wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and LeeJordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows. 

"No more studying," Ron sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. "You could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."

 Harry was rubbing his forehead. "I wish I knew what this means!" he burst out angrily. "My scar keeps hurting — it's happened before, but never as often like this." 

 "Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested. 

 "I'm not ill," said Harry. "I think it's a warning... it means danger's coming..."

"Relax," I said as I stretched. 

 Ron couldn't get worked up, it was too hot.  

"Harry, relax, Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down." 

 Harry nodded. 

When he tried to explain he couldn't shake off a lurking feeling that there was something he'd forgotten to do, something important, Hermione said, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one." 

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