Dawn Rivera

Careers Advice

"But why haven't you got Occlumency lessons any more?" says Hermione, frowning.

"He's told you," Danny mutters. "Snape reckons he can carry on by himself now he's got the basics."

"So you've stopped having funny dreams?" I say sceptically.

"Pretty much," says Harry, not looking at me.

"Well, I don't think Snape should stop until you're absolutely sure you can control them!" says Hermione indignantly. "Harry, I think you should go back to him and ask - "

"No," says Danny forcefully. "Just drop it, Hermione and Dawn, OK?"

It is the first day of the Easter holidays and Hermione and I, as is our custom, have spent a large part of the day drawing up revision timetables for the three of us. Harry, Danny and Ron let us do it; I think mostly because it is easier than arguing with us and, in any case, they might come in useful.

Ron was startled to discover there are only six weeks left until our exams.

"How can that come as a shock?"I demand, as I tap each little square on Ron's timetable with my finger so that it flashes different colours depending on its subject.

"I dunno," says Ron, "there's been a lot going on."

"Well, there you are," Hermione says, handing him his timetable, "if you follow that you should do fine."

Ron looks down at it gloomily, but then brightens.

"You've given me an evening off every week!"

"That's for Quidditch practice," I say.

The smiles fades from Ron's face.

"What's the point?" he says dully. "We've got about as much chance of winning the Quiddtich Cup this year as Dad's got of becoming Minster for Magic."

Hermione and I say nothing; I am looking at Harry, who is staring blankly at the opposite wall of the common room while Crookshanks and Lizzie paw at the hands, trying to get their ears scratched.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione says.

"What?" he says quickly. "Nothing."

He and Danny seize their copies of Defensive Magical Theory and look something up in the index. Crookshanks and Lizzie give them up as bad jobs and slink away under Hermione and I's chairs.

"We saw Cho earlier," I say tentatively. "She looked really miserable, too...have you two had a row again?"

"Wha - oh, yeah, they have," says Danny, as Harry looks at him pointedly.

"What about?" Hermione says.

"That sneak friend of hers, Marietta," says Harry.

"Yeah, well, I don't blame you!" says Ron angrily, setting down his revision timetable. "If it hadn't been for her..."

Ron goes into a rant about Marietta Edgecombe, in which Danny looks angry, nods and says "Yeah" and "That's right" whenever Ron draws breath.

The weather grows breezier, brighter and warmer as the Easter holidays pass, but I, like the rest of the fifth- and seventh-years, am trapped inside, revising, traipsing back and forth to the library. Harry and Danny are in bad moods about the approaching exams, and our fellow Gryffindors are sick of studying themselves.

As though to underline the importance of our upcoming examinations, a batch of pamphlets, leaflets and notices concerning various wizarding careers appear on the tables in Gryffindor Tower shortly before the end of the holidays, along with yet another notice on the board, which reads: