The Other Potter: Book One

Chapter Twenty Five: Exams and Plans.

[Chapter Twenty Five: Exams and Plans. Edited.]

I had no idea how I managed to finish my exams with the stress I was under. Between classes, we'd sneak to the third floor to press our ears against Fluffy's door, to make sure he was still alive and kicking... or biting and growling.

It was boiling hot, and the room we did our written papers in was a furnace. I was certain I'd failed all the written components, because I was still quite unfamiliar with writing, despite doing it for a year. I doubted it would ever be my forte.

I hoped I would have more luck with the practical exams.

For charms, Professor Flitwick called us one by one into his class to make a pineapple tap dance across his desk. I prayed that I didn't set it alight. My prayers were answered and I sent my pineapple dancing beautifully across the table top. He resented me when I tried to make him Waltz with the pineapple.

Professor McGonagall watched us turn a mouse into a snuffbox — points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. I made a gorgeous snuffbox, which she didn't let me keep. It was golden and had intricate engravings – again there were the weird symbols, a cloak, a stone, and a wand, but I'd decided they were from the Tales of the Beedle and the Bard, which Dumbledore had read me in the Hospital wing. She tried not to smile at it, but I distinctly caught a small grin. I win this time Professor McGonagall.

Snape breathed down our necks while we made the forgetfulness potion. I had memorised the method, but him creeping about still made me uneasy.

Our 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 accidentally started a major cheer that everyone joined in.

I hoped I passed all exams — even though I knew astronomy was beyond me. It didn't help that I'd fallen asleep every lesson.

We were wandering the sunny grounds in the Week of Freedom, as I called it. It was the blissful week between the end of exams and the release of results. Something was bothering Harry, I could tell, but Ron and Hermione were breathing easily. I didn't really know how I was. I was somewhere in the middle of 'good' and 'bad', but I couldn't tell you exactly where.

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

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested.

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

Ron yawned, "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."

I had a realisation that hit me as hard as my father. Before speaking, I started to run. Harry was running too, which hopefully meant we were on the same wave of thought.

Ron and Hermione began to chase us.

"Harry – Willow – where are you going?" Ron shouted.

"I've just thought of something," said Harry. He had turned white. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."