The Marauders: Year One | #Wattys2016

N.E.W.T.s, Interrupted

N.E.W.T.s, Interrupted

Morning of the N.E.W.T. exams came faster than any of the seventh years in the entire school could ever have dreamed. They'd revised and revised and still there were nearly none that felt completely ready for the test. Bilius Weasley was an emotional wreck, pacing about the Gryffindor common room, his robes all tangled about him as he quite literally pulled his hair out of his scalp as he talked nervously, muttering everything he needed to remember over and over to himself.

Everyone in Gryffindor was rather relieved when Derek finally caught Bilius by the shoulders and insisted they had down to the Great Hall, where the examination was being held, to get a good seat close to the front.

Sirius looked to James, "If I'm that nervous come out N.E.W.T., please hit me with a stunner and just prop me up in the corner."

James nodded, "I absolutely will, I swear."

The younger students would their exams in the morning, after breakfast, followed by the fifth year O.W.L. exams in the afternoon. James was thankful for the extra night of studying (especially as they'd all been too distracted by Bilius Weasley's anxiety to actually get much of their own studying done before).

"Relax, will you?" Derek pleaded. He pushed Bilius into a seat in one of the desks. "You're going to give yourself a fit."

Bilius was running his quill through his fingers, unable to sit completely still, one foot thumping the floor nervously. "I can't help it, mate, this is our future, you know? This determines what we can and can't do for the rest of our lives."

"The Resistance doesn't care about your N.E.W.T. grades, Bil," said Derek with a shrug. This was the reason that he, at least, wasn't nearly as worked up as Bilius and some of the other seventh years. Several of the Ravenclaws were already in the testing hall when they'd gotten down there, sitting in a cluster in the front, pouring over their books for last minute revisions. Derek half-sat-half-leaned against his desk, looking down at Bilius. "We're already in the Resistance."

"Yeah, that's all good and well, but what about after Voldemort's defeated, ey? What do you want to do after that?" Bilius asked.

Derek shrugged. Honestly, he hadn't thought of it in such a time that he wasn't really sure any longer. "Dunno, Bil, I'll figure it out."

"What happened to your dragons? Ey?" Bilius asked gently.

There was a time that he'd been interested in Magizoology, especially in dragon capture and training, but he'd forgotten that the moment he'd heard his parents were gone. It had seemed a childhood fantasy in some ways and he'd grown up very instantly that night, and left behind a lot of the ambitions and imaginations that he'd once had in favor of the sole desire to seek and destroy Lord Voldemort in vengance. He'd been so fixated on the idea of the Resistance for the past year, that he had afforded little time for any other passions to sort through.

Derek shrugged.

"Mate, there's a life for us after Voldey's dead," Bilius said.

"Yeah, I know," Derek said, "But first thing's first."

Bilius sighed, "I think you'll make a brilliant Magizoologist, for the record, Derek. You oughtn't give it up."

Bilius wasn't the first to have told him that and Derek sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck. "I haven't really given it up, I just - I have to avenge my sister and my parents, you know? I have to do this Resistance stuff first, then I can worry about the rest of it. And if it means giving up some stuff - like the dragons - then it does, that's all there is to it. This is more important."