ashes of worship, h.p

06. withered feeling

━ SIX.

     year one, 1992

     Exams week had arrived faster than anticipated, though Kallias found little reason to care. The sweltering heat of the classrooms made the process more unpleasant, but the exams themselves? Laughably simple. Everything had been straightforward, almost insultingly so. Herbology and Astronomy? Child's play. Even with the endless lists of plant properties and star charts.

The only real low point was History of Magic. Professor Binns had subjected them to an hour of gruelling questions about batty old wizards and their forgettable inventions with his droning, monotone voice. Kallias could barely remember half their names by the time he handed in his parchment, and frankly, he didn't care to.

The practical exams followed suit, offering little in the way of challenge. Making a pineapple tap dance across a desk in Charms felt almost insulting in its simplicity. Kallias completed the task with a flick of his wand, watching the enchanted fruit dance as Professor Flitwick beamed and marked his parchment with a flourish.

Transfiguration required them to turn a mouse into a snuffbox, a task Kallias executed flawlessly. His snuffbox was elegantly crafted, complete with tiny silver inlays, earning Professor McGonagall an approving nod.

     Even Potions, a subject that sent many of his peers into fits of anxiety under Snape's cold, critical eye, was more of the same for Kallias. Snape, predictably, spent most of the class breathing down the necks of the more anxious students, his dark eyes narrowing at the slightest mistake. But when he passed Kallias's station, he didn't glance at the cauldron. They both knew the potion would be perfect.

Despite her usual struggles in the subject, even Pansy seemed smugly satisfied with her result, shooting Kallias a quick grin as they left the dungeon.

     The flying exam was similarly straightforward. Madam Hooch's sharp commands to demonstrate proper takeoff and manoeuvring. Kallias executed the required manoeuvres with effortless precision, barely paying attention to the faint murmurs of awe from the other students watching nearby.

By the time the final exam was complete, Kallias felt more drained from the sheer monotony of the process than from any actual effort. There would be no more studying, not that he had needed to in the first place.

One of the more amusing events in those final weeks had been Malfoy's relentless complaining. Kallias had almost, almost felt a pang of pity for the platinum blonde when he discovered the reason for Malfoy's sour mood.

Apparently, when Malfoy had "set up" Potter, he'd managed to earn himself a punishment as well. Malfoy had been handed a particularly unpleasant detention: a trip into the Forbidden Forest. Kallias had learned this through the grapevine, though Malfoy himself had made it abundantly clear in the days following.

Poor Malfoy hadn't shut up about it for an entire week.

     For an entire week, Malfoy had been absolutely insufferable, muttering darkly about the injustice of it all. "My father will hear about this," Kallias could barely count how many times Malfoy had ranted about the forest: the creatures lurking in the shadows, the oppressive darkness, and, of course, having to endure such an ordeal alongside the likes of Potter and Neville, out of all people.

The phrase "My father will hear about this" had become a running joke among the Slytherins, with Miles and Blaise frequently mimicking Malfoy's tone behind his back, drawing quiet snickers from their housemates.