Little Bird

Chapter Eight

Eve

            Neville, Ginny, and I sat under a large oak tree after classes were over and tried to help each other plan out the Potions essay that was due the next day.

            "There's no way I'm going to finish this in time," Neville moaned, sifting through the papers in his notebook. "Does Snape actually think that writing a five page paper in two days is physically possible?"

            "Apparently," Ginny replied dryly, flattening out her piece of parchment in front of her. She was lying on her stomach in front of us, while Neville and I sat against the tree trunk beside each other. "To be fair, we probably could have started it yesterday."

            Neville dipped his quill into his ink pot and rolled his eyes. "I was busy. Anyway, tell me what you're putting in the introduction. Should I start talking about the history?"

            "I wouldn't," I suggested kindly, leaning over to see what Neville had already written. "I'm putting the history in the next paragraph so it can take up more space."

            "Make sure you write really big," Ginny added helpfully. "I'm nearly to two pages and I haven't even started my second paragraph."

            The sun glinted off of the lake in front of us, momentarily blinding me. As I shaded my eyes from the brightness, I squinted down at my parchment and glanced over what I already had written down. The three of us had started working on the papers nearly an hour ago, but it had taken way too much time just getting started. This essay was probably going to take me all night to finish—my stomach twisted with nerves as I remembered Blaise was going to be working on it with me later.

            I shook my head and started scribbling down the next sentence, knowing I needed to distract myself from thinking about that before the nervous excitement completely took over. As I loaded my quill with ink again, I smiled over at Ginny and asked, "How come Harry's not here? I thought you wanted him to help you."

            She blushed furiously, and I held back my smirk. I knew how much she liked him, but she still refused to admit it to anyone. Ginny kept her gaze fixed on her parchment as she replied evenly, "He told me he couldn't make it. He got a detention, can you believe it?"

            "No way," Neville exclaimed, finally glancing up from his paper. "From who?"

            "Umbridge," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose. "He mouthed off in class, apparently."

            "She's awful," I shook my head. "Did he say what she was gonna make him do?"

            Ginny twirled her quill between her fingers as she tried to remember. Finally she said, "No, but it probably won't be too bad. Lines, probably. He said he'd tell me when he gets back."

            She tried to pretend that she hadn't seen the smile I sent her.

            The three of us worked on the papers until the sun went down and we were forced to pack up our things. We headed back inside and decided to go to dinner, as it was getting pretty late and curfew was soon. I parted with Neville and Ginny when we reached the Great Hall, wishing them good luck with the rest of the paper.

            After dinner, I walked down to the Slytherin common room alone and mentally prepared myself for writing the rest of this paper. Blaise had said he would be pretty late because of Quidditch practice, so I knew I at least had a couple hours to get rid of the nerves. I needed to relax; after all, I was only helping him write the Potions essay. I had to keep reminding myself that as I entered the common and sat down beside the fire.