'It is a summer day, and I want to be wanted more than anything in the world.'

Andrew Sean Greer

Darcy flies through her Defense Against the Dark Arts exam the following morning, scribbling furiously on her parchment, glancing over her shoulder at Emily and Gemma every so often. Gemma seems a bit paler than usual, but doesn't flash anyone a horrified or confused look; Emily looks determined as her hand moves quickly across her exam. Lupin sits in the corner of the Great Hall, flipping lazily through a book as the decrepit and wiry looking examiner patrols the aisles of students, making sure no one is cheating. Darcy's heart soars as she continues through the questions, absolutely sure that she'll pass this class with flying colors. In fact, she's rather disappointed she studied so hard for Defense, because truthfully, she hadn't really needed to. She isn't sure whether the exam is just easy, and everyone had just talked up the N.E.W.T.s, or if she really just has a good grip on the information. She assumes part of it may have been the fact that she had a good teacher this year, and when she looks up again at Lupin, he looks right back at her, grinning.

For the practical part of it, the examiner calls them in one by one, and Darcy goes in after Gemma, who quickly tries to tell everyone as she walks out of the Great Hall what they're supposed to be doing. When Darcy walks in to an empty Great Hall, with only the wiry man—whom she recognizes as one of the Professors who had observed her O.W.L.'s two years ago—and Lupin inside, she starts to feel nervous—but she shouldn't. She starts by casting a few spells as the examiner calls them out, and they finish with the Professor casting harmless spells at her while she blocks them wordlessly. When Lupin tells the examiner that Darcy had been working on a Patronus that year, the examiner squeals with delight.

"Go on!" he says, in a shrill, high-pitched. "Would you please? For an extra point?"

Darcy shoots Lupin a reluctant glance, but he nods encouragingly. She rubs the back of her neck and agrees somewhat hesitantly, taking a few steps back and holding out her wand. For a moment, Darcy takes her time in thinking of a happy enough memory, one that will help her produce a real Patronus, not just vapor. Finally, Darcy settles on her memory of Sirius Black, picking her from the rubble and tries to imagine more to it—Sirius Black saving her life, Sirius Black taking her home with her, curled up against his chest while his arms shield her from the devastation she's just witnessed—a sense of love swells inside her, her heart expands and pounds inside her chest—"Expecto Patronum!"

And to not only Darcy's surprise, but to Lupin's and the examiner's, as well, something enormous erupts from the end of her wand, silver-white and blinding and beautiful. Lupin beams at Darcy, and then his eyes follow the large Patronus as it leaps around the Great Hall—or rather, glides. It prances around her, the most graceful thing she's ever seen, its four feet not making a sound on the ground. Unable to stop herself from grinning, Darcy takes a long look at the Patronus, trying to see what it is—and finally it stops in the middle of the Great Hall, staring at Darcy with its head down, as if bowing to her. She reaches out to touch it, but her hand only falls through it, but an overwhelming feeling of warmth floods her.

"A doe!" the examiner exclaims excitedly, bouncing up and down on his feet, surprisingly agile for his old age. "How beautiful! Oh—how wonderful, Miss Potter! Full marks for your practical—full marks!"

Darcy lowers her wand, breathless, and as the examiner writes quickly on his clipboard, she bounds over to Professor Lupin. She can hardly talk, but Lupin claps a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "I did it," she rasps, unable to wipe the smile off her face. "I did it—I casted a Patronus—did you see what it was? Did you—"

"It was beautiful, Darcy. I knew you could do it," Lupin laughs, and he nods towards the large oak doors of the Great Hall. "Why don't you let the next person in now, and you can meet me after you finish your next exam?"

"Er—right, sorry," she replies sheepishly, and Lupin only smiles at her as she lets herself out of the Great Hall, feeling elated.

The feeling of elation is still going strong during their Potions exam, and Darcy feels that she needn't have studied for this class, either. After the written exam, Darcy and the other students are shown a long table of ingredients, which they label on a blank piece of parchment. The last part of this exam is creating a list of all the potions with which the ingredients could be used, and the steps involved. When Darcy glances over at Gemma, she can tell that Gemma is struggling, pausing every so often to look helplessly at Darcy before returning to her parchment with a triumphant look on her face, as if she's suddenly remembered the answer. Emily, who has always been an excellent Potions student, doesn't seem bothered by this exam, either. Knowing that her friends have done well makes Darcy feel happy for them, despite knowing they had gone behind her back and spoken to Lupin.

After the exams finish for the day and Darcy stuffs herself with food, she and Lupin decide to take advantage of the warm weather, and they walk the grounds together, her long fingers curled around his arm, squeezing tight, admiring the sight of him when the sunlight hits him just right, making his hair look much lighter and his eyes a bright gold. Darcy talks eagerly of her Patronus most of the time while Lupin listens with a smile on his face. He watches her skip rocks across the lake, leaning up against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, looking weary. As more students begin to flood the grounds—most of them with books or notes to study—Lupin suggests they go back to the castle to avoid watchful eyes. With students coming and going through his office to ask last minute questions, Darcy spreads out her Transfiguration notes on his desk as they drink butterbeer and Lupin continues to quiz her. Darcy can't help but to smile when Hermione comes knocking with questions about Kappas, and Darcy urges her to have a drink. To top it all off, Gemma arrives not long after Hermione, and Lupin offers her a butterbeer without Darcy having to insist. Having such a good time, Darcy even forgets to be mad at Gemma for going behind her back.

Professor McGonagall comes in shortly afterwards while the four of them are laughing in his office. "Surely that's not laughter I hear? What could possibly warrant laughter during exam week?" she japes, her mouth forming somewhat of a smile. She spies Darcy's notes cluttering Lupin's desk and nods in approval, patting Darcy's marred shoulder. In her other hand is a goblet, which she gives to Lupin and he drinks it right away, leaving it—still smoking—on the ground, seeing as there's no room on his desk anymore. Hermione watches it continue to smoke closely, but Darcy and Gemma pay it no mind.

"Professor Lupin was just telling us how wonderful you are," Gemma sighs happily, earning her an amused look from McGonagall. "How fair and beautiful and clever you are—"

"Good try, Smythe—your charm didn't work last year during exams, and it won't work on me this year either, but I do appreciate the sentiment, even if it's false," McGonagall replies. She goes to leave the classroom, hesitating in the doorway and raising her thin, dark eyebrows nearly to her hairline. "Anyway, I don't think Remus thought I was any of those things when I caught him snogging in a broom closet after curfew in his sixth year and gave him a week's worth of detentions."

McGonagall closes the door behind her without another word and all three girls look to Lupin again, whose cheeks are now flushed. Gemma's mouth forms an exaggerated 'o' and she cries, "Professor Lupin!"

He holds his face in his hands and they all start to laugh. Lupin chances an apologetic glance at Darcy, and she smiles at him, chuckling along with Hermione and Gemma. She fingers the rim of her butterbeer bottle. "Quite the hypocrite, aren't we?" she teases quietly.

Lupin shakes his head, cheeks still pink. "Do as I say, not as I do."

He and Darcy look at each other for a moment, smiling shyly, sipping their butterbeers. Gemma clears her throat, getting to her feet and fixing her hair. Darcy and Lupin break their gaze, looking to Gemma instead, but she only smiles at them both before walking over to Hermione, combing her fingers through Hermione's bushy hair. "Come on, Hermione," she says, and Hermione puts her butterbeer down on the empty corner of Lupin's desk. "I want to show you something."

When Gemma and Hermione leave Darcy and Lupin alone, Lupin looks her in the eyes again. Darcy sighs, finishing her own butterbeer. "I'd have never believed it of you, Professor," she tells him. "Caught snogging in a broom closet—you terrible, terrible boy. And a prefect, as well..."

Lupin laughs. "Right," he answers. "I suppose you're partial to the changing room after Quidditch practice?"

Darcy flushes a deep crimson, her cheeks stinging. She tries not to let her embarrassment show, but by the look on Lupin's face, she's failed miserably. "You were spying on me?" she asks lightly, tilting her head slightly.

"Not spying," Lupin scoffs. "Just—checking in on you."

She smirks. "You were jealous."

He gives her an incredulous look, hiding begins his butterbeer as he drinks deeply. "Of what?"

"Of Oliver."

"You think I was jealous of Oliver Wood? Yes, I'm sure you absolutely relished the five minutes spent in the changing room with him after each practice." Lupin shrugs his shoulders, leaning back in his seat, flashing her a toothy grin. He lowers his voice. "Tell me something, love—did you or did you not admit to thinking of me when you were with him?"

"Did you or did you not lie about watching me on the map?"

Lupin leans forward, moving her notes aside to rest his hands on the desk. He laces his fingers together, narrowing his eyes. Looking slightly uncomfortable, he continues. "I may have glanced at it once or twice, but I didn't lie—I really didn't have the time to watch you, nor did I want to waste my time and energy on the thought of you and Oliver." He grins again. "Besides, there's no need for me to be jealous—I had you, too, Darcy, or was it so terrible that you've forced yourself to forget?"

Darcy looks away from his face, glancing at some of her notes, unable to look him in the eyes and say what she wants to say. "You're better than Oliver."

"I would hope so," he says, laughing outloud. "Now, if you don't mind, perhaps we could change the subject?"

"No!" Darcy replies. "I want to know more about this girl—was she pretty? She must have been for Remus Lupin, the prefect, to be caught snogging her in a broom closet."

"Are you jealous, Darcy Potter?"

"Maybe a little bit," she confesses, smiling sweetly at him. "Maybe I don't think anyone else should be kissing you except for me."

"It was a long time ago," he chuckles again, his cheeks still pink. Lupin considers her, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. "Anyway, she wasn't half as pretty as you are."

Darcy blushes still more furiously, rubbing at her cheeks, wishing her own face wouldn't give her away so easily. "Flattery gets you nowhere, Professor Lupin."

"No?" he says, in an even lower voice, seeming quite pleased with himself. "Nowhere at all?"

She shakes her head, trying to hide the smile that threatens to cross her face.

"Ah," Lupin groans, light-heartedly. "It was worth a shot. Anyway, you know how cute I think it is when you blush."

Herbology is an easy enough exam; Darcy is given a couple of blank pictures and told to label the different parts of plants, giving examples of what they could be used for. It's one of the easiest subjects, and afterwards Emily and Darcy walk in silence to their Transfiguration exam, where Darcy isn't quite sure all of her hard work and studying paid off. She stares at the exam for a few minutes, trying to find a question that she absolutely knows the answer to, but everything seems scrambled in her brain, and she tries to recall the questions Lupin had asked her while they had dinner the other night, but the only thing she can recall from that night is their argument, the words he'd said to her after they'd apologized. She just barely finishes when the bell rings to let them go, and Darcy watches her exam fly to the front of the Great Hall with a rather wistful look on her face.

Charms is one of the easiest exams she's ever taken, and with the afternoon off, Darcy prepares for her Ancient Runes exam in the comforts of Lupin's apartments. He helps her with what he can before falling asleep sitting up on the sofa, and Darcy smiles at him weakly, packing all of her things as the smell of dinner begins to waft through the corridors, sneaking through the walls and making her stomach growl. As she goes to leave, Lupin reaches out quickly, making Darcy jump as his long fingers wrap around her wrist.

With his eyes still closed, he murmurs, "I can have dinner brought up."

Darcy feels his warm forehead, brushes back his hair and pries his fingers off her other wrist. "You should get some rest." She sighs heavily, kneeling down in front of him. Lupin opens his eyes slightly, peering at her from behind heavy lids. Darcy can't put into words how badly she wants to forget about studying, forget about having to go back to common room—all she wants to do is lay with him, rest her head on his chest, and sleep for hours, for days, for years, with him next to her. She touches his thigh gently, and Lupin gives her a tired smile, closing his eyes again. "Don't tease me, kitten. My patience is not what it usually is right now."

Her stomach churns violently, just as it always does when he calls her something sweet. She chuckles, patting his thigh and getting to her feet again. "Would you like me to bring you something to eat?"

"Don't you worry about me," Lupin calls after her as Darcy makes her way to the door. "Besides, if you come back, I may not let you leave."

Darcy, halfway through the door, pokes her head back in to see him looking at her. "That's a risk I'd be more than willing to take."

When Darcy wakes the next morning, it all sets in. Everything suddenly becomes real, and as she lays in bed, listening to the rustling of Emily dressing behind the curtains of her four-poster, Darcy can't contain her excitement. Despite all that has happened over the past school year, she can't be mad at Emily any longer, not with one exam being all that remains between now and absolute freedom.

The thought of not being a student anymore makes her slightly dizzy, and Darcy feels drunk as she stumbles from her bed after Emily insists they're going to be late. The other girls have already gone down to breakfast, leaving the two of them alone. With a toothbrush hanging out of her mouth and toothpaste dribbling down her chin, Emily throws a clean pair of robes at Darcy as she struggles to take her pajamas off.

Seven years she's spent sleeping in this bed, Darcy thinks. Seven years she's spent at Emily's side. Seven years she's spent at Hogwarts, where she's had the best times of her life. All she wants to do is get the exam over with—all she wants to do is reminisce with her friends about all the good times they've shared together—all she wants to do is think about the week they'll have after this exam, not students any longer, but adults preparing to lead lives in the Wizarding World. She thinks of Carla, having to return to Hogwarts next year for her final year; she thinks of Gemma, itching to start classes at St. Mungo's; she thinks of Emily, pursuing her seven year long dream of going into the Ministry; she thinks of herself, perusing the aisles of students in Snape's dungeon classroom, the smell of potions all around her, having dinner with Lupin without having to worry about any repercussions of their irresponsible actions.

"So Gemma's got the details taken care of," Emily tells her as Darcy takes her time brushing her teeth. "Tomorrow night, we're all going to be meeting in the abandoned classroom in the next corridor. She reckons the prefect's bathroom will be the first place teachers check for celebrating students such as us. Now, don't hate me, but—I did give Gemma some Sickels I found in your trunk, just to chip in."

"That's fine," Darcy answers, not too bothered. A few Sickels for a celebratory party sounds pathetic, so she adds, "I would've given her a few Galleons had she asked me. Can you do my hair the way that I like?"

Emily positions herself on the end of her bed, and Darcy sits in between her legs as Emily works furiously, first combing the knots out of her auburn hair. When Darcy's hair is brushed and knot-free, she begins to braid it delicately. "I've been meaning to tell you something, Darcy," she whispers, her wrists cracking as she twists Darcy's hair. "Gemma's been working on me, and I have to admit, that girl is damn persuasive."

"Oh?" Darcy asks, feeling a sense of dread wash over her. "Does this have anything to do with you and Gemma telling Lupin my uncle hits me at home?"

"Oh—he told you about that, did he?" Emily laughs nervously. "I'm sorry, Darcy, but Gemma was really worried about you, and she was the one who suggested we tell Lupin. We were worried about you, and Lupin seemed concerned, as well."

"Yeah," Darcy says, grunting when Emily pulls her hair a little too hard ("Sorry, but if you brushed your hair more often, that wouldn't happen!"). "We talked about it."

"And—speaking of Lupin…" Emily starts, groaning when she messes up Darcy's braid. She rakes her fingers through Darcy's hair and starts again. Darcy feels this is an ominous sign, as if Emily is prolonging the time spent in their dormitory, just to talk about Lupin. "You're right, Darcy—I don't know what he says to you in private, and I was wrong to assume—I mean, Gemma's really convinced that he cares about you, and I shouldn't have been so harsh. Carla gave me a hard time about us fighting, and I feel really bad."

"Oh," Darcy utters, unsure of what to say. She stares ahead of her, glad she can't see Emily's face. "I'm sorry, too. You know I didn't mean to punch you, right?"

"I know," Emily answers quickly. "I just—you've been really happy lately, Darcy—happier than I've seen you in a long time. I'm not saying that I like the idea of you and Lupin, in fact, I don't really like the idea of you and Lupin, but I do like seeing you happy."

Darcy's quiet, taking in Emily's words. She expects Emily to say more, but she doesn't. She only sits there in silence, the only sound the cracking of her wrists. "Thank you, Emily."

"It's just a braid," Emily scoffs, finishing with Darcy's hair and taking a moment to admire her work.

"No," Darcy says, turning around to face her friend. Emily looks down at her, a wrinkle between her eyebrows as she knits them together. "I mean—thank you for—for taking care of me all these years. I don't think I've ever truly thanked you properly."

"You're my best friend, Darcy. You don't have to thank me properly for anything."

"But I want to," Darcy insists. She hesitates, breathing in deeply. "If it wasn't for you—I don't know who I'd be now. I still don't know who I am, or what I'm meant to do, but—you've helped me along and you never had to do that. You've been more of a mother to me than Aunt Petunia ever has—fuck—you've been around longer than my real mother was. And I'm glad that you picked me out of all those other kids you could've been friends with."

Emily looks away when her eyes well up with tears. "You know I'll always be there for you, even if we aren't together."

Darcy feels tears prickle in her eyes, as well, but she doesn't look away from Emily. "We still have another week together." A tear trickles down her cheek, and Darcy wipes it away quickly, but more start to flow. "I love you, Emily. You saw me in a different light than everyone else did, and I just—wanted to thank you."

Sniffling, Emily looks back at Darcy. "You'll be great here. You'll do great things wherever you are. It's in your blood, you know."

"You'll do great things at the Ministry, too."

Emily swallows loudly, wiping her eyes on her sleeve and getting to her feet. "One more exam."

"One more exam."

Nodding, Emily wraps her arms around Darcy. They hug tightly for a few, long seconds before Emily holds her out at arm's length, looking Darcy up and down. Then, she smiles. "Let's get this over with, yeah?"