BLACK {1} harry potter

Chapter Nineteen

Exams came quickly and were exhausting to say the least. The written papers were the worst of them because the prompts were lengthy, and we were all cooped up in a classroom that seemed to be boiling us alive. It wasn't unbearable for me as much as it seemed to be for others. In fact, the high temperature had gone unnoticed by me until I saw the sweat dripping from Neville's forehead. It seemed that boy was always sweating.

The practical parts of our exams were much less stressful and even fun at times. Professor Flitwick's exam was almost comical as he made us individually charm a pineapple to tap dance across his wooden desk. My attempt had proven well when the pineapple almost fell off the desk while performing a particularly aggressive sequence.

Professor McGonagall's exam was also fun, though—like her—more serious. She'd given us the task of transforming a small mouse into a snuff box. My own mouse-turned-box was a golden color with swirls and floral designs; if not for it squeaking I wouldn't have minded keeping it.

We were now headed to the dungeons for our Potions practical exam with Professor Snape. As we reached the hallway of the class, Hermione began listing off ingredients for different potions and Ron ate the last bite of a cracker he'd taken from lunch just minutes before.

I nudged Harry, who'd been a few steps behind the rest of us. He seemed distracted, understandably so. Despite the craze of our first experience with exams, the Philosopher's Stone was still heavy on my mind—most importantly, the fact that it was at risk. "You okay, Harry?" Hermione and Ron kept walking ahead of us.

"I don't know how we're getting through exams. I keep expecting him to barge in one day." The boy rubbed his forehead as if feeling something there. His bright eyes made the bags underneath more distinct and worrying to me. "My scar's been aching more and more."

I nodded, absentmindedly touching my own lesion. "I know, and we both realize what it means. They don't."

"Yeah, maybe that why I feel I'm the only one worried."

I bit my lip. "You're not." I glanced around, making sure no one was too close before continuing. "I've been having nightmares more consistently lately."

His eyes widened. "What? Why haven't you told us! What do you see?"

"I see what I've always seen in my sleep: the green light, the screams. Nothing for what's coming though," I answered. "Well, I hope so anyways."

"Come on; the exam is about to begin," Hermione called to us from the doorway.

Professor Snape came in as usual, cape soaring, and instructed us to make a Forgetfulness potion. It was without question that he wanted nothing but perfection as he hovered over us and our cauldrons. 

The stools were more spread out than usual, so Harry, Ron, and Hermione were far from me for the first time in I don't know how long. Ron's potion seemed to be declining without 'Mione's usual assistance.

My concoction was going well, however, as I stirred the brewing potion and added the mistletoe berries to my mortar. I had just begun crushing them when I felt a sharp pain at the base of my neck. I dropped the pestle, the loud clang catching a few eyes. I gave an awkward smile, trying to get everyone's eyes away from me. I saw Professor staring at me too, something more worried than annoyed in his eyes.

I glanced at Harry as I tried to discreetly rub my scar in hopes of it easing the pain. He seemed to feel it too, even touching his forehead in a similar way. I took a deep breath and tried to continue my potion despite the pain. It turned out well in the end, and though the ache did dull it never quite went away.