Clara Black. Harry Potter's Cousin

Chapter 12

I guess Quirrell's made of stronger stuff than we thought.

In the following weeks, he did seem to be getting paler and thinner, but he didn't look like he'd cracked yet.

Every time we would pass the third-floor corridor, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I would press our ears up against the door to be sure Fluffy was still growling on the other side. Snape was still sweeping about in his godforsaken temper, surely the Stone was still safe. Harry always gave Quirrell an encouraging smile whenever he saw him nowadays, and Ron's been telling off people for laughing at Quirrell's stutter.

Hermione and I had things other than the Sorcerer's Stone on our minds. I wasn't as stressed as Hermione (no one is, because that's physically impossible), but I do want to do well. Hermione's started drawing up study schedules and color-coding her notes. Harry, Ron, and I wouldn't have been bothered by it if she wasn't nagging for us to do the same.

"Hermione, the exams are still weeks away." I told her. "We don't have to do the last minute crunch until the week before." All I was doing was reading over notes in the evenings. That was how I passed all my classes in Elementary School.

"Ten weeks," Hermione snapped. "That's not ages, like you seem to think, Clara, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron reminded her. "Anyway, what are you and Clara studying for, you both already know it all."

"I can forget," I reminded him, but Hermione just launched into a rant so I doubt he heard me.

"What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You realize we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should've started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me. . ."

To everyone's great displeasure, the teachers appear to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. Easter holidays were nowhere near as relaxing as Christmas. Not that my Christmas was all that relaxing. It's pretty hard to relax when, next to you Hermione's muttering the twelve uses of dragon blood or practicing wand movements. Seriously, why does she even bother? She already knows it all. Hell she knew at the beginning of the freaking school year.

Ron, Harry, and I spend many an afternoon in the library with her, working on all the homework we were assigned. 

"I'll never remember this," Ron burst out on one such afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out the window. I didn't blame him, it was the first nice day in forever. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and Summer was in the air; you could practically taste it. 

I didn't look up from the timeline I'd made from Hermione's History of Magic notes(What is even the point of that class?), until I heard Ron say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

Hagrid shuffled into view, obviously hiding something behind his back. He looked out of place in his moleskin coat, but I didn't care. An excuse to stop studying. At long damn last!

"Jus' lookin'." he said, in a shifty voice that peaked my interest. Why is he lying? "An' what're you lot up ter?" He suddenly looked suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' for Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Nah, we figured out who he was ages ago; made the Sorcerer's Stone. We were working on homework and studying for exams." I cut in before Ron could answer. Hagrid could loose his job if people found out we knew. I don't want to be the reason why they chuck him out. "And we have questions for you, could we come over later?" I hinted.

Hagrid picked up on what I was implying. "Yer, too clever fer yer own good, Clara."

"Trust me, I know I am." I admitted.