Chapter 38. The End of First Year 3/?
As it turned out, unlike us, many people in the House were really nervous about the exams, and some were downright on the verge of hysteria. So far from everyone dared to join the party, and some of the upper-years who had O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s coming up, and who did end up joining under the influence of a little alcohol, even burst into tears, complaining that they had to remember everything they'd studied over the past years, and all of it together was just way too much. And Professor Binns never taught anything except the Goblin Rebellions anyway. Probably the only reason no one had demanded his dismissal yet was that in his classes you could do whatever you wanted and, more importantly, you could even skip them entirely without consequences!
All in all, it was a very strange evening, but the next day the tension over the upcoming exams dropped sharply. Especially because we revealed something to those poor mundanes for which, given its current policies, the Ministry could easily slap us on the wrist. We told them about Occlumency and the advantages of even a basic grasp of that art. Needless to say, with the exception of the pure-bloods, most had never even heard of this branch of magic? So, aside from those who were already taking their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s this year, everyone else firmly resolved to at least start learning Occlumency next year.
And then the exams began. Which, for us, were arguably even too easy. After all, for someone who had long since memorised the entire school curriculum, it would be strange to get anything less than an "Outstanding", aside perhaps from Potions, but even a certain scowling, hook-nosed brunette couldn't bring himself to find fault with us.
In the end, we got top marks in every subject but one. Herbology.
Even if they call us pampered, it won't change the simple fact: we absolutely do not like digging around in soil and dragon dung. Which, incidentally, greatly upset the Head of Hufflepuff, who knew perfectly well that hers was the only class in which we didn't earn the highest grade.
And now we were sitting in the Headmaster's office, having tea.
"I believe I ought to congratulate you on successfully passing your exams. Though poor Pomona still can't quite understand what she's done to offend you so, that you dislike her subject this much," the old man said with a faintly ironic smile.
"We have our own interests," we shrugged. We weren't about to waste extra time on something we disliked for the sake of a complete stranger who, in addition, only needed it for the sake of a box-tick.
"I understand," the old man chuckled before taking a sip of tea.
After drinking a bit from his cup, Dumbledore returned it to the saucer with a sigh.
"I suppose you already know why I've called you here?"
"In broad strokes," we didn't try to dodge the question; a gift of prophecy as strong as ours is a pretty cheat-y thing in some situations.
"I fear that if Professor Trelawney knew about your talent, she would feel quite unwell," the old man shook his head at our answer.
"But let us return to the matter at hand," Dumbledore grew more serious. "I've just received a letter from the Ministry about a session that is supposed to begin in about an hour. Naturally, it's a decoy, meant to lure me out of the school. Which means Tom will make his move today. I've already seen that Harry has become quite engrossed in this business, so there will be no need to push him toward this trial. I will, of course, also be ready and watching everything from the shadows, but for reliability's sake I am still counting on your participation."
"Fine; to be honest, we ourselves are rather curious to see a weakened Dark Lord who can barely even use spells right now."
"You mustn't underestimate him. If it comes to it, he clearly won't hesitate to sacrifice his servant to vent his anger in the event of failure."
"Hmm…" At those words we involuntarily frowned, taking the warning seriously, because even though we had seen that everything would end well, it still raised the overall danger level of this venture. "All right, we'll be careful."
"Will Disillusionment Charms work?"
"Normally I would say no. But now, when he's in Quirrell's barely living body that's decaying as we speak—quite possibly."
"We… we'll freeze him, is that all right?"
"…Very well," Dumbledore nodded. "I'll take full responsibility."
We left the office with a slight case of jitters. What we were about to get ourselves into was no joke like that encounter with the troll, whom we could probably beat even with our eyes closed. This would be a meeting with a madman who flings Unforgivables even at his own followers. However, to be honest, we needed this trial no less than Harry himself. And what we were feeling now—this trembling and nervousness—was a vivid indication of that, especially considering how grand our plans were for the future; and not just the distant future, even simply for next year. We want, after all, not only to be able to defeat a giant basilisk who, frankly, is much scarier than a heavily weakened Voldy, but on top of everything we also want to perform a ritual on ourselves to gain Metamorphmagus magic. And all of that, if you think about it a bit more carefully, is actually pants-wettingly terrifying.
Lost in our thoughts, we wandered into the Gryffindor common room, where we immediately ran into the Golden Trio.
"You were with the Headmaster?" Harry asked anxiously.
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore was just about to leave for the Ministry on business."
"So it'll be today," Harry declared.
"What will be today?" we blanked a little, still lost in our thoughts.
"Snape. He's definitely going to try to steal the Stone today."
"Oh, that," we answered in unison.
"You're not surprised?" the boy faltered.
"Yes, today I saw that we managed to stop Quirrell," we nodded via Andromeda.
"Wait. Stop whom?!" Harry and Ron exclaimed in chorus, while Hermione started glancing around nervously, afraid we'd drawn too much attention. But fortunately everyone was too giddy from the end of exams for anyone to be looking our way, and the upper-years had already begun preparing to throw a party.
"Oh, keep your voices down," we sighed. "The Headmaster was clearly lured out of the school on purpose, and it's not so easy for him to refuse to go. Politics. As for Snape, he may be a bastard, but it's Quirrell who's Tom's accomplice," we decided to use Voldemort's real name in case someone was eavesdropping.
"I don't know, it just sounds kind of weird, Quirrell, he's so… pathetic?" Ron voiced his opinion.
"It doesn't matter," Harry shook his head. "Whoever it is, we'll stop him."
"Maybe we should go to the professors instead?" Hermione suggested weakly.
"All right. Then we're going right now," Harry said firmly. But we know that, unlike in canon, McGonagall also won't be in her office, and so we'll end up going through the obstacle course anyway.