The Heart Is Not Black or White

Chapter 27

As the end of term crept closer, the classrooms were as hot as an oven in Hell. Exams were also starting up. I found myself struggling to finish my written exams, but performed well during the more hands-on tests. For Charms class, we had to make a pineapple tap dance across the desk. Professor Flitwick was impressed with my work, especially when I had the pineapple do backflips.

I couldn't stop worrying about my encounter with Professor Quirrell. First of all, it was very weird that my essay turned out exceptionally. I was a horrible writer. Second, there were only a select few people who should know about my special ability. Quirrell was not one of them.

During Defense Against the Dark Arts, I tried to avoid Quirrell. It was not all that hard actually. He often had to keep a watchful eye on Crabbe and Goyle. See, we had DADA with the Hufflepuffs, and they were clearly not the most intimidating students. Let's just say they were a pretty easy target for the two big oafs.

The last exam for the first-years was History of Magic. It was a particularly stressful one, as our teacher, Professor Binns, was a ghost. The way he slowly floated up and down the rows inspecting the essays gave me chills. When Binns had announced that the exam was over, I gladly rolled up my parchment, containing a half-decent essay, and rushed from the classroom. I was going down to the Black Lake to meet up with the twins and Lee Jordan.

Once I came to the lake I spotted Ron sitting with Harry Potter and Hermione at the shore. Fred, George, and Lee, on the other hand, were tickling the tentacles of the giant squid.

"Hey, Issa," Fred said, absentmindedly, poking the squid's tentacles with his wand. "How was your last exam?"

"Horrible," I answered. "I had History of Magic with Professor Binns. He kept floating through me while I was trying to write my essay. Anyway, what did you guys have?"

"Divination," George answered.

"We had to make predictions by looking in that bloody crystal ball," said Fred.

"My prediction was that a new Quidditch star would emerge," Lee said, beaming. "And by that I meant you. Professor Trelawny ate it right up. Of course it wasn't really a prediction because you're already a star."

"Professor Trelawny is a dingbat," George complained. "I predicted that Gryffindor would win the Quidditch cup in three years, and she said it was wrong!"

"Because Slytherin is going to win," I said.

"No you're not," said Fred hotly. "As long as Harry is on our team, Gryffindor can't lose."

"And this year we just have to win the match against Ravenclaw," said Lee.

"And then we win the Quidditch cup," George said.

"Slytherin has won two out of three matches," I said. "If you guys lose, we'll be tied. Don't get your hopes up."

"Marcus Flint and his Slytherin clowns are nothing against us," Fred said.

"Just remember that Gryffindor has only won three games in the past ten years," I countered.

Of course Fred and George went ballistic when I said that. I just giggled to myself and walked back towards the castle.

As I walked back, I saw Ron, Harry, and Hermione running toward the gamekeeper's hut, Hagrid. I noticed that the group had seemed oddly suspicious lately. They were always whispering to each other as if they were sharing some sort of secret, while Ron looked confused most of the time. No surprise there.

But I couldn't let that occupy my mind. My duel with Malfoy was tonight.

At eleven-o-clock that night, I was sitting with Daphne in the common room. We were brain storming spells to use for the duel tonight.