Dumbledore's half-blood grand-daughter: Year One

Chapter Seventeen: Into the Pit

In years to come, I would never quite remember how I had managed to get through my exams when I half expected Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment. Yet the days crept by, and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door. I hadn’t had a chance to speak with my grandfather, yet. I planned to later in the day.

It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where we did our written papers. We had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an AntiCheating spell. Mine had been bewitched against Winx magic. Since no wizard can do this they had to call in my father to.

We had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called us one by one into his class to see if we could make a pineapple tapdance across a desk. 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. Snape made us all nervous, breathing down their necks while we tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.

Harry and I talked a lot. He did the best he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his forehead, which had been bothering him ever since his trip into the forest. Neville thought Harry had a bad case of exam nerves because Harry couldn't sleep, but the truth was that Harry kept being woken by his old nightmare, except that it was now worse than ever because there was a hooded figure dripping blood in it.

Maybe it was because they hadn't seen what Harry and I had seen in the forest, but Ron and Hermione didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Harry and I. The idea of Voldemort certainly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in dreams, and they were so busy with their studying they didn't have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.

Our very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented selfstirring cauldrons and we'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until our exam results came out. The ghost of Professor Binns told us to put down our quills and roll up our parchment. I had thought it was rather easy, but that might be because I found a new development from my Christmas transformation: photographic memery, but even then I couldn't help cheering with the rest.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione as we joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager." Hermione always liked to go through our exam papers afterward, but Ron said this made him feel ill, so we wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree.

The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows. "No more studying," Ron sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. "You could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet." Harry was rubbing his forehead.

"I wish I knew what this means!" he burst out angrily. "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 couldn't get worked up, it was too hot.

"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." Harry nodded. I watched an owl flutter toward the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Harry was looking at it too. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters.

Harry suddenly jumped to his feet. "Where're you going." said Ron sleepily. "I've just thought of something," said Harry. He had turned white. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now." "Why." panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up. "Don't you think it's a bit odd," said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket. How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law. Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think. Why didn't I see it before." "What are you talking about." said Ron, but Harry, sprinting across the grounds toward the forest, didn't answer. I gasped, and ran after him.