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Gwen wanted to kick herself.
She wanted to go back in time seven years to her very first year at Hogwarts and tell eleven-year-old Gwendolyn that she needed to begin revising and preparing for N.E.W.T.s that very second.
No matter how much work Gwen had put in to prepare herself for them, the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests had much more in store than anything she could've imagined. And while she was naturally proficient in most of her subjects and beyond competent in the rest, she still felt rather barren when she faced the actual exams.
The Great Hall had been set up in the now-familiar manner of an examination room, ready to house the seventh-years as they ground their last wits together to determine their future. After all, it was the N.E.W.T.s that formed whether or not Gwen would ever carry on her path to becoming an Auror, and she needed no less than five exemplary marks on exams to do so. No pressure, or anything, of course!
Every N.E.W.T.-level professor was on duty to patrol the Hall during examination, acting a second boundary to resist against any cheating tactics. Gwen thought the anti-cheat quills, anti-cheat desks, and anti-cheat parchments would have been proficient enough, but you can never be too safe, with Hogwarts, she supposed. Even though she was sat next to Lily, and her parchment was just in Gwen's line of view... Still, she managed to keep her eyes on her own exam, and finished each test feeling better about the last one.
Finally, at the end of a long week—perhaps the longest of Gwen's life, one that felt as though it would never end—the examinations were through, and the seventh years had the rest of their term to themselves whilst their younger predecessors had to finish up their own exams.
"We've got the whole castle to ourselves," sighed Sirius, as he kicked his feet up onto an emerald green couch arm and leaned back into his plush seat. "Feels nice, don't you think?"
A nearby portrait of a knight in black armor hung on the dingy walls spoke up almost immediately, sounding quite peeved: "I do say, young man, take your feet off of my lounge at once! What appalling manners, these days, I dare—"
Sirius made a show of whirling his feet back down to the ground, glaring in the direction of the portrait. He had asked at least four times why the group had settled on the Slytherin common room, of all places, to reconvene, and Gwen could sense another inquisition arising on the tongue of the young Black.
"Ask again, Sirius, and I'll hex you sideways," she said, as he opened his mouth. "We're here because all the Slytherins are still taking their N.E.W.T.s, and Dorcas Meadowes owed Mary a favour. This is the most private place in the castle, at the moment. We've it all to ourselves."
"Muffliato," James added hastily, shooting a glance to portrait—though the knight didn't look like the muffling charm affected him whatsoever, instead focussed greatly on brushing the white stallion he emblazoned. And Gwen couldn't say she was a fan of the merpeople that kept peeking into the looming windows on each wall of the common room...
