Faith .|. H. J. POTTER ✔

Chapter seventy-three

June had arrived. And for the fifth-years that meant that in just a short amount of time, their OWLs were coming up. 

The teachers no longer gave them homework to do but rather spent that time on revising subjects they'd expect to come up in exams. In their free time, the students only buried themselves in their books or notes until late at night. It made the students mad. Especially Hermione. Lucky for Harry and Faith this meant she had no longer time to nag them about asking Snape to teach them Occlumency again.

Ernie Macmillen had started a habit of asking fellow fifth-years about their studying time during the day. 

"How many hours d'you think you're doing a day?" Ernie asked Harry, Ron, and Faith outside Herbology. 

"I dunno," Ron answered. "A few,"

"More or less than eight?"

This alarmed Harry, Ron, and Faith. More or less than eight?

"Less, I s'pose,"

"I'm doing eight," Ernie said proudly. "Eight or nine. I'm getting an hour before breakfast every day. Eight's my average. I can do ten on a good weekend day. I did nine and a half on Monday. not so good on Tuesday - only seven and a quarter. Then on Wednesday -"

They were thankful that Professor Sprout was ushering them inside so Ernie would have to stop talking.

"Is he mad?" Ron whispered. "I'm not even awake for that long on weekend days! Even Faith did less studying than that last year,"

"That's because last year we didn't have OWLs and my brother was still alive," Faith whispered. 

Her mood had dropped significantly. Everything stressed her out which caused her hair to react and Gryffindor to lose several house points. And that made Faith even more stressed. She had to keep her abilities under control whilst also focusing all her attention on her schoolwork so she'd get good enough grades to qualify for Auror NEWT classes and trying not to stress about the fact that she gets stressed about everything. 

Even the thought of stressing stressed her out. 

Malfoy had found another way to spread panic among the other students. 

"Of course, it's not what you know," The four friends heard him loudly say to Crabbe and Goyle during Potions, "it's who you know. Now, Father's been friendly with the head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority for years - old Griselda Marchbanks - we've had her round for dinner and everything ..."

"Do you think that's true?" Hermione asked Harry, Ron, and Faith. 

"Nothing we can do about it if it is," Ron sighed. 

"I don't think it's true," Neville whispered their way. "Because Griselda Marchbanks is a friend of my gran's, and she's never mentioned the Malfoys,"

"What's she like, Neville?" Hermione asked. "Is she strict?"

"Bit like Gran, really," Neville shrugged.

"Knowing her won't hurt your chances, though, will it?" Ron said.

"Oh, I don't think it will make any difference," Neville sighed. "Gran's always telling Professor Marchbanks I'm not as good as my dad ... well ... you saw what she's like at St Mungo's ..."

The four friends shared a look, they didn't know what to say. That was the first time Neville mentioned their meeting at St Mungo's. 

Their first exam was going to be on Monday morning, Theory of Charms. All fifth year Gryffindors sat in the common room, revising and revising until their eyes popped out from reading too much. Harry had told Hermione he'd test her but regretted it the moment they started. Every time she answered his question, she snatched the book from his hand to check if she in fact said every word correctly.