𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟚 𝕠𝕗 ' 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕖 ' HIATUS

xxxii

To nobody's surprise, Professor Sprout started their lesson by lecturing them about the importance of O.W.L.s. Harry wished all the teachers would stop doing this; he was starting to get an anxious, twisted feeling in his stomach every time he remembered how much homework he had to do, a feeling that worsened dramatically when Professor Sprout gave them yet another essay at the end of class. Tired and smelling strongly of dragon dung, Professor Sprout's preferred brand of fertilizer, the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws trooped back up to the castle an hour and a half later, none of them talking very much; it had been another long day.

As Harry was starving, and he had his first detention with Umbridge at five o'clock, he headed straight for dinner with his friends without dropping off his bag in Gryffindor Tower so that he could bolt something down before facing whatever she had in store for him. He had barely reached the entrance of the Great Hall with Eurielle, Hermione, and Ron, however, when a loud and angry voice said, "Oy, Potter!"

"What now?" he muttered wearily, turning to face Angelina Johnson, who looked as though she was in a towering temper.

"I'll tell you what now," she said, marching straight up to him and poking him hard in the chest with her finger. "How come you've landed yourself in detention for five o'clock on Friday?"

"What?" said Harry. "Why . . . oh yeah, Keeper tryouts!"

"Now he remembers!" snarled Angelina, glancing at the three behind Harry. "Didn't I tell you I wanted to do a tryout with the whole team, and find someone who fitted in with everyone? Didn't I tell you I'd booked the Quidditch pitch specially? And now you've decided you're not going to be there!"

"I didn't decide not to be there!" said Harry, stung by the injustice of these words. "I got detention from that Umbridge woman, just because I told her the truth about You-Know-Who —"

"Well, you can just go straight to her and ask her to let you off on Friday," said Angelina fiercely, "and I don't care how you do it, tell her You-Know-Who's a figment of your imagination if you like, just make sure you're there!"

She stormed away.

Eurielle smirked and looked to the group,"I think we'd better check with Puddlemere United whether Oliver Wood's been killed during a training session, because she seems to be channeling his spirit."

"What d'you reckon are the odds of Umbridge letting you off on Friday?" said Ron skeptically, as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"Less than zero," said Harry glumly, tipping lamb chops onto his plate and starting to eat. "Better try, though, hadn't I? I'll offer to do two more detentions or something, I dunno. . . ."

He swallowed a mouthful of potato and added, "I hope she doesn't keep me too long this evening. You realize we've got to write three essays, practice Vanishing Spells for McGonagall, work out a countercharm for Flitwick, finish the bowtruckle drawing, and start that stupid dream diary for Trelawney?"

Eurielle and Hermine shared a look, " What," said Ron, taking a chicken leg and tearing a piece of meat off with his teeth.

" Nothing," they said at the same time, looking down at their plates. Ron's eyebrows shot to his hairline as his jaw dropped.

" You're not telling me you two have finished everything already!" he said in disbelief, looking at Harry with wide eyes.

The two girls nodded, " We have," said Eurielle looking at her nails, " And since Potter has detention I decided to duplicate my Potions and History of Magic notes for him to have," she sighed, taking the pieces of parchment out of her bag and handing them to the green eyed boy.