A/N: Walter Wrinkle is not a canon character; I made him up for my last fanfiction, "Almost" since I had never read the Ancient Runes' professors name. One of my readers informed me, according to Rowlings' notes, it is Bathsheda Babbling.


CHAPTER FOUR—Small Problems

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Walter Wrinkle woke up on Thursday of exam week, and instead of feeling exhausted, he had never felt better. In fact, he felt twenty years younger. The octogenarian got out of bed with ease. The cold air had been freezing his joints since November, but today, they moved like a well-oiled machine. He stretched his arms and heard nary a pop in his shoulders. The man smiled, hoping this meant the day would be a good one.

Piles of books and replicas of artifacts had to be dodged as Wrinkle made his way to the wash room. Hot water sprayed from the tap when Walter stepped across the threshold. Having seen his sleep-tousled face for almost nine decades, Walter barely glanced at the mirror on his way to the bath tub.

Stripped down to his skivvies, Walter backed up until he was once again in front of the looking glass.

"Bloody hell!"

Instead of the eighty-seven years' worth of wrinkles, Walter was gawking at his forty-year-old self.


Filius Flitwick sat at the head table, wondering where all the other professors were. He was not often the first teacher to make it to the Great Hall—Hooch got up at five every morning to exercise, and the only other person to ever arrive before her was Professor Vector. Septima had coffee instead of blood in her veins. As it was, Filius bypassed curious and went straight to concern.

Children were chattering, studying for their exams, or discussing their Christmas shopping. The door to the Great Hall opened to admit Professor Hagrid. A minute later, Professor Weasley entered. Argus, then Irma, trotted in soon after.

"Mornin', Filius," Hagrid greeted. "Where're the other professors?" The chair creaked under Hagrid's girth.

"I don't know," he said. Professor Weasley sat on Filius's other side. The three teachers chewed their omelets and kippers, trading awkward glances when the post owls delivered Daily Prophets to empty staff chairs. Filch and Madam Pince shrugged at them.

Snow sprinkled from the enchanted ceiling. Fleur tapped her fork against the edge of her china plate. She leaned towards Filius. "Is zere a meeting we do not know about? I cannot imagine we all forgot."

The half-goblin pushed his spectacles higher up his long nose. "I suppose we can peek in the staff room, just to be sure."

Fleur and Filius were halfway down the dais before Hagrid realized he should tag-along. He took one more swig of pumpkin juice before lumbering to his boat-sized feet. The gamekeeper passed all four of the school's eighth-years as he made his way to the door. "Mornin', 'Mione, Ron." He nodded to Neville and Lavender, not as familiar with them as he was with the other two. Hagrid gave a wide smile to Ginny, the future Mrs Potter.

Ron and Hermione watched the professors walk out the door. "Do they ever eat breakfast?" Ron asked. The idea horrified him. Breakfast was his favorite meal of the day. Actually, he liked all the meals equally.

Lavender tugged her boyfriend to his seat, away from Hermione. "Should we study Herbology some more?"

Ron groaned.

Hermione waved at Luna Lovegood. The Head Girl sat at the Ravenclaw table, surrounded by firsties. Butterbeer caps flashed around her neck as she waved back. Normally she would sit with her Gryffindor friends, but the younger Ravenclaw's had begged for her help. She was the most qualified DADA tutor Ravenclaw had.

Ginny and Neville left a space between for Hermione.

"Why do we need to study when the Herbology assistant is right here?" Ginny teased with a mischievous Weasley grin.

"Because the Herbology assistant has never cheated a day in his life," Ron drawled while doling syrup over everything on his plate.

"Gran would kill me if she ever found out I cheated," Neville mock-shuddered. The young man could stab an eye out of Nagini, but he could barely stand to imagine the wrath of his grandmother.


Fleur led the way up the marble staircase. Filius hopped from stair to stair and Hagrid followed. The staff room was empty. The three were puzzled.

"Wha' abou' Professor McGonagall?" Hagrid asked.

"Maybe Albus 'as returned?" Fleur looked hopeful, but not overly-so. "And zey are all in 'is office?"

Filius was quickly becoming frustrated. Why wouldn't they let him know that Albus had returned? He was just as curious as the rest of them whether the mystery treatment worked. While fuming, he, Hagrid, and Fleur trotted towards the headmaster's office.

Nearly Headless Nick floated by, nodding to Fleur and humming Christmas carols. Cold drafts found crevices and cracked windows. Old stone and new sat side by side in the walls, leftovers of the Final Battle.

"Look—" The young DADA teacher pointed to a statue with someone lurking behind it. "Is zat Walter?"

"Walter?"

"Oh, thank Merlin," young Walter said, peering over the shoulder of Helga Hufflepuff's statue.

"Walter?" Hagrid looked gob-smacked. "Wha's happened ter yeh?"

"I don't know!" He stepped out into the hall. Fleur covered her mouth. Walter Wrinkle—a man older than her father—had blonde hair. The noticeable stoop of arthritis was gone, as was the aged rasp to his voice.

Filius stumbled forward, staring at his youthful colleague.

"I woke up and found myself forty-years-old again!"

"'Ow can zis be? 'Ave you been cursed?" Fleur, Hagrid, and Flitwick ogled and prodded at Wrinkle.

"I don't think so!"

"Let's take 'im ter Poppy," Hagrid said. "She'll know what ter do."


Amid the white tile, white sheets, and white curtains, the matron was gaping. "Walter?"

"Poppy." Professor Wrinkle straightened his tie.

"You're—young?"

He cleared his throat. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"Oh dear." Poppy circled him. "I suppose we need to rule out curses, hexes, jinxes, and spells—toxins and poisons as well."

Hagrid gawked as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand before Walter's chest and face.

"Have you been handling any dangerous herbs?"

Walter shook his head. "I haven't done anything unusual, seen anything unusual. I've had the same bland porridge all week." Poppy lifted his arm to peer at his armpit.

"Perhaps we should get Severus?" Filius asked, twiddling the end of his mustache between his fingers.

No signs of foreign magic were revealed in Walter's body. Poppy's lips pinched. The witch marched Walter towards the dungeons. She said, "Fleur, please find Minerva and bring her to Severus's office. Rubeus, you go find Septima. Filius, go find Pomona. We'll take no chances, while Albus is missing."

Everyone separated.

"What do you think is wrong with me?" Walter asked, eyes darting from side to side. The Fat Friar emerged from a wall, making Walter flinch. The ghost gave Poppy and her companion a strange look as he floated by.

"Without tests, I can't be sure. Severus would be the best one to talk to—there is obviously some foul play at hand."

"I can't imagine there'd be any need for foul play, now that the war is over."

Poppy and Walter made quick work of the dungeon corridor. They knocked on Severus's door. He didn't answer.

"Severus?" Poppy called.

"How can he hear you through all this stone? His rooms are all the way in the back, aren't they?"

"Oh dear." Poppy pulled out her wand.

Walter pushed her hand down. "Are you mad, Poppy? There's no way you can dismantle Severus's wards—who knows what will happen if you try?"

"Right, right—we'll just have to keep knocking until he answers."

Hurried footsteps reverberated against the corridor stone. "Poppy!" Fleur hissed from the other end of the hall. "Poppy! Walter!"

The French woman hurried down the hallway, dragging someone along behind her.

"Why did you bring a student with you?" Poppy reproved, shielding Walter from view.

"Wait—who is that?" Walter asked. He had never seen this ebony-haired student before. Yet she looked familiar.

"Zis is Minerva McGonagall!"

Poppy and Walter gaped. Minerva pulled a thick lock of hair in front of her face, shy.

The floor vibrated in a pounding rhythm. Hagrid rushed down the hall, holding something in his arms.

"Where is Septima?" Poppy demanded, while Walter stared at little Minerva.

Hagrid flung out his arms to show them something—a little giggling girl, with curly brown hair.

"Again, again!" Glasses dangled off the end of her nose.

"Septima?" Walter looked nauseous.

Someone behind Hagrid's massive form cleared their throat. Hagrid stepped out of the way.

Filius Flitwick was holding the hand of a pudgy, brown-haired girl. "Tell them your name, sweet," he said.

"P-Pomona Sprout." The girl's eyes darted from teacher to teacher. "Where am-m I?"

"Merlin." Poppy covered her mouth, staring at the three small children. None of them looked old enough to attend Hogwarts.

Fleur looked at the closed door. "Do you zink Snape is also a child?"

"What about everyone else?" Walter clutched his stomach.

"I'll get to Severus," Filius volunteered, his spell work on par with whatever enchantments Severus could conjure.

"We'll secure the others," Poppy said as she split from the group.

Filius grabbed Fleur's hand to get her attention. "Go to the Great Hall and tell them to remain there for a bit longer, studying—the tests will have to resume later in the day," Filius ordered. "Bring the eighth-years back with you."

Professor Weasley rushed up the damp, dungeon corridor. Several children were leaving the Great Hall when she arrived.

"Non, non, go back inside to breakfast," she said, shepherding them back into the room. "Ze exams won't be starting for a while yet—use ze time to study, oui?"

"But, Professor Weasley, why aren't the exams—"

"A Christmas present," she replied, looking around the hall, craning her neck in search of Ron and Hermione.


Filius swished and flicked his wand, peeling Severus's wards and defensive perimeters down one at a time. Sweat beaded under his goatee and his bushy, white eyebrows. He squinted at the flashes and pops.

Little Minerva, cherub-Pomona, and tiny Septima stood watching, mouths open in awe, eyes wider than galleons.

"What is you doing?" Septima asked. Her small hand grasped the back of Filius's brown robe.

"I am trying to take the magic off of this door," he replied. It was odd, speaking to someone as tall as he was.


Fleur rushed down the Gryffindor table. She pulled Ron to his feet and gestured towards Neville. Lavender hopped up, wanting to go wherever Ronniekins went. To Hermione, Fleur said, "You four, come with me."

Ginny half-rose from the table. "What's wrong?"

Hermione and Neville wondered the same thing. Ron dragged Lavender with him, and the four rushed along at Fleur's side. Luna noticed the commotion and begged leave from her mentees. She met her friends at the door, looking politely confused. Fleur kept her lips in a tight line. She looked at the high table—no one was there. Irma and Argus had already left.

"What's wrong?" Hermione pushed.

The professor signaled to the Head Boy from the Hufflepuff table. When he stood before her, she said, "Do not let any of ze children leave ze Great 'All until I come back. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, nodding.

"You stand right 'ere," she pointed at the space by her feet, in front of the tall doors. "No one is to leave, not even for ze restroom."

"Yes, ma'am."

Fleur turned on her heel. Ginny and Luna traded looks and decided to follow without being asked.

Everyone in the Hall began muttering, wondering why the war-heroes were called away and tests were postponed. Voldemort had only been gone for a few months—was he already back?

"Fleur, what is wrong?" Ginny asked once the doors were shut behind them.

The part-veela shook her blonde head. "Come with me and you will see." She cut a brisk pace down the corridor, to the dungeons.

"Is it Snape?" Ron asked in the Entrance Hall. "His snake bite?" There would be no other reason to go to the dungeons in such a rush.


The door to the Potions Master's office swung open. Filius panted as he stowed away his wand. The three curious witches stuck their heads around the door. Hagrid returned with another little girl, a confused looking Madam Pince, and a shifty-eyed Argus Filch.

The yellow-eyed girl was wiggling in Hagrid's arms, trying to look at everyone around her. "Who're you? Why is he so tall?" she demanded, pointing up at half-giant Hagrid. "Why're you so short?"

Filius was taken aback. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Rolanda Germaine Hooch," she declared, sticking her thumb proudly in her chest. "Who're all of you?"

"Don't you dare faint, Argus!" Poppy called from the end of the hall, seeing the janitor swaying on his feet. The man was a squib and easily scared by magic that went wrong. Poppy carried an infant in her arms.

"Who is that?" Filius asked. He felt like fainting himself. The baby was small.

"I found her in the Divination Tower." The matron was frowning. "This must be Sybill."

"Baby, baby!" child-Minerva sang, throwing up her arms. She began to skip a circle around Poppy. "Minnie loves babies, babies are so precious, baby, baby, bay-beeee!"

"Minerva?" Irma put her hand above her heart. Her face was turning a pasty, grey color. The deputy headmistress was skipping and singing.

"Yes, ma'am?" Minerva asked. Minerva had always been the tallest woman teaching at Hogwarts—now, she peered up at Irma.

The clip-clopping of hooves sounded down the hall. Firenze and Professor Binns, joined the queue.

"Why are we all in front of the Potions Master's chambers?" Firenze asked. His sparkling eyes gazed at the small children staring at his horse-legs.

"Pony!" Pomona and Rolanda yelled at once. They traded glances then collapsed into a fit of giggles. The centaur gave them a warm gaze.

"These are not children," Firenze declared, sage-like.

"I've got another!" Walter said, coming up from the back.

Argus stumbled away, feeling his old knees give out. A man who could be Walter's younger brother walked up, holding yet another baby.

"Aurora," Walter said, grim, to Filius and Poppy.

"Everyone, into Severus's office," Poppy ordered, shuffling all the children inside.

"Eeeeew, look at all the dead frogs!" Pomona squealed.

"Eeeeeeeeeew!" Rolanda yelled.

Filius led them all to the sitting room and sat the little girls down on the coffee table.

"Where is Snape?" Filch asked. Hagrid sat down. The two infants were transferred into his sizeable, fur-coated lap.

Walter ventured, careful and wary, towards the closed bedroom door. If he barged in on a sleeping Severus, Walter could be hexed across the room; Severus had never been known as a 'morning person.' His body was young, but still quite fragile.

The adult staff members watched Walter with trepidation, as he grasped the cold door handle. Hagrid bounced the babies on his knees. Minerva played with her hair. Pomona and Septima made odd faces at one another and hid their giggles behind their hands. Rolanda pushed all the glossy Potions Weeklys around on the coffee table.

Walter took a deep breath, and pushed the bedroom door open a crack. Nothing happened, except for a shrill squeak of the hinges. He stepped into the room, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. He signaled for Poppy, Irma, and Argus to come in.

Curled up in the middle of the bed, slept a six-year-old Severus Snape, his small frame dwarfed in a giant pair of black sleeping-trousers and a night-shirt.


"It is everyone," Fleur explained, leading the handful of students towards the dungeons. The door to Snape's chambers was left open. The group walked through.

"Where is Professor Snape?" Hermione asked Professor Flitwick, confused, once they gained the sitting room.

"Over there." Filius nodded towards the hearth, his brows twisted, anxious.

The six students turned around. Hermione gasped.

Hagrid had two babies on his lap, one wrapped in a gauzy, orange head-scarf, like the one Trelawney always wore. The other was wrapped in Professor Sinistra's spangled shawl. On the coffee table sat three little girls and a small boy.

Filch stood back in the corner, twisting his ugly hands and chewing on his bottom lip. Madam Pince sat on the couch, waving her hand in front of her sweating face. Firenze stood at the bookshelf, looking at the numerous tomes with fascination.

"Bloody he—"

Ginny slapped her hand over Ron's mouth.

"What is going on here?" Lavender's voice hit shrill pitches.

The small children were beginning to get antsy under the intense scrutiny of every tall-person in the room. The boy shoved his hands under his legs and one girl adjusted her glasses.

"Is—is that Professor—" Hermione was the level-headed intellectual of the Golden Trio, but she was lacking words at the moment. "Are those our professors?" she hissed to Madam Pomfrey.

The old woman nodded.

Luna pulled on her Butterbeer caps. "How interesting."

Fleur shut the door. "I 'ave told ze 'Ead Boy to keep ze students in ze Great 'All. 'Oo are we going to get to run ze examinations for today?"

"Who are we going to get to watch these children?" Lavender demanded.

"Calm down, Lav," Ron said.

"That's why we brought you all here," Filius said. "Minerva was left in charge, but now it looks like it's going to be me. We'll need someone to watch them."

Tiny Minerva gave Flitwick a strange look. Apparently, someone had the same name as her. Eavesdropping closely, she continued to wrap her long black hair around her neck like a scarf. Rolanda looked outright suspicious, narrowing her eyes at everyone. Firenze attempted to rub warmth back into his bare arms.

"You want us to watch them?" Neville asked. He looked as if Filius had asked him to go head-to-head with Nagini for a second round.

"We have ter watch all the other kids," Hagrid said.

"You can't leave the professors with their students!" Filch spat. "Especially Professor Snape! Who knows what they'll do to 'im!"

Tiny Severus pulled his knees up to his chest. His frightened eyes darted around the room. Apparently, these people were going to hurt him.

Hermione felt personally affronted on the Potion Master's behalf. "No one is going to hurt a hair on Prof—his head!" she lowered her voice so the children couldn't hear. "He's a war hero and our teacher! No one's going to let any of them get hurt!"

Luna and Ginny nodded. Ron didn't look like he agreed with Hermione—he never forgot the time Professor Snape made him scrub bedpans without magic—but he shoved his hands in his pockets instead of saying anything.

"Who is that?" Lavender asked, pointing at one of the babies.

Poppy replied, "Sybill and Aurora." They were swinging their tiny feet and cooing. Hagrid poked their tiny tummies.

As the adults started squabbling, Pomona tried to squeeze herself into a little ball. Severus rolled up the bottoms of his trousers so he wouldn't trip. He repeated the process on the sleeves of his too-long shirt. But he kept his eyes up on all the adults. Hermione saw the edge of his snake bite peeking out of his collar. Looking at the newly-adorable teachers was preferable to hearing Madam Pince bark at Professor Flitwick to "do something about this."

Suddenly, a sharp, girly voice yelled, "He's been writing on his arms!" Madam Hooch was pointing at Professor Snape's left arm—his Dark Mark.

Everyone turned wide eyes to the children on the coffee table. Ron slapped a hand to his forehead. Ginny turned white.

"I have not!" Severus yelled, trying to rub off the black snake and skull. The voice coming out of his mouth was high-pitched and frightened—nothing at all like the deep baritone Professor Snape used in his classroom. "It won' come off!" He scraped at his skin.

"He's got a tattoo!" Rolanda screeched. She jabbed her finger harder towards Snape's arm.

Pomona and Minerva looked worried, never having seen a six-year-old with a tattoo before. Rolanda was smirking, hands on her little hips. "You're gonna be in troubleeeee," she sang.

Severus's eyes widened. Bright red scratches appeared across the Dark Mark. Little drops of blood began to sprout. "No!" he panicked.

"What do we do?" Poppy switched her wand from hand to hand. How do they tell a child that he would someday align himself with a Dark wizard and become branded forever?

None of the adults were doing anything—so Hermione stepped forward and grabbed Professor Snape's hands.

The little boy flinched and tried to pull away, jittery and upset. "My father will hi—I didn'—don' tell him! Please!"

"S-Severus, no one is going to tell your father—I promise they won't," Hermione implored. "He's not here—and no one will tell him. Okay?"

Severus still tried to get away. Hagrid bounced Aurora on his lap. Sybill began fussing so Fleur picked her up. Nearly every eye was on the raven-haired boy.

"He always finds out," Severus said. It was hard for Hermione to believe that Professor Snape, the liar-extraordinaire, Bat of the Dungeons, could be a little, petrified child, or that he had ever been scared of anyone in his life.

Hermione held onto Snape's arms as she sat on the ground in front of him. He wasn't very tall. His black eyes were wide, expressive. "It will be our secret." His fidgeting calmed, slightly. "Okay?"

He opened his mouth to respond. Rolanda's voice interrupted, once again. "If he gets a tattoo, I want one too!"

"No one's getting a tattoo," Ron said, authoritative.

"He's got one!"

"No, he doesn't," Ron drawled, though everyone else could tell he was lying.

"Then what is that?" Rolanda put her hands on her hips.

"It's fake," Ron explained, sassing the little girl right back. He pulled out his wand. Nobody could see the Dark Mark anymore. The adults realized he had cast a Notice-Me-Not charm.

"Good job, Ronald," Luna whispered.

The eyes of the little girls jumped all over Snape's arm, looking for the tattoo, but they couldn't see it. "Where did it go?" Rolanda demanded, angry that she had somehow been tricked.

Severus rubbed his arm frantically. He couldn't see it—but he knew it was still there. He could feel it. Something icky, stuck in his skin.

Pomona said, "Maaaagic." Awed, she put her chubby hands on her chubby cheeks.

"Someone must have pranked Sna—him in his sleep," Ron continued.

"Hagrid, Firenze, will you stay in here with them?" Filius asked. "The rest of us will adjourn into the office." He was pointedly looking at the students, nodding towards the next room.

Hermione stood up. "I'll be right back," she said to the little Potions Master.

He crossed his arms, and curled his body inward, casting furtive glances at Rolanda. Rolanda was playing with Pomona. Minerva skittered over to Severus.

Hermione peered over her shoulder. She overheard Professor McGonagall say, "Don' listen to her, Sevvie. She doesn' know anything."

Neville shut the door on the packed office. All thirteen wizards began talking at once.

"What do we do?"

"How did this happen?"

"How do we fix it?"

"I hate children."

"That Dark Mark is still there."

"Look how small they are!"

"They're babies!"

"What do we do?"

Hermione shushed them all. Professor Flitwick rubbed his tired face. "Someone has to watch them. We can't let any of the students see this. You six are the only other people to know."

"That doesn't solve the exam problem," Wrinkle mentioned.

"I'll watch Professor Trelawney!" Lavender eagerly raised her hand. "Me and Ron! We'll do it, right, Ron?" She looked worried for her favorite teacher.

"Um, yeah, I guess…?"

"Who wants to watch Rolanda?" Pince asked, her face even more sour than usual.

Nobody volunteered. Fleur cracked open the door. Everyone peered in. Rolanda was playing quietly with Pomona and Septima. Severus and Minerva were flipping through the magazines, looking at the pictures.

Rolanda pointed at Firenze and whispered to the other two girls. Pomona shook her head.

"Don't do that, 'Landa," Professor Sprout said. "That's mean."

Hooch rolled her eyes, but kept stacking books with Septima. Professor Vector's glasses were too big for her face and kept falling off. The little girl caught them every time and put them right back on.

Fleur shut the door.

"Pomona always has been the one to keep Rolanda on the straight and narrow," Poppy murmured. "Even during their school days."

Filius hesitantly said, "Poppy…"

"Oh no, I can't watch them, Filius. Its exam week—I'll be passing out Calming Draughts until the end, and if Severus doesn't return to normal, I'll have to do all his brewing to restock before next term."

"Merlin's pants, what if they don't return to normal?" Ginny groaned.

"Where is Dumbledore?" Ron asked.

"He is not here."

Hermione rubbed her left arm. "Of course he isn't," she mumbled.

Professor Wrinkle pointed to Luna. "The Head Girl can watch them."

Luna's large eyes widened further. "By myself? What about my exams?"

"Why can't all of them be nannies?" Professor Binns droned next to Walter's shoulder.

"I suppose we can postpone their exams…" Flitwick said, slowly, rolling his mustache between his fingers. "For the eighth-years, at least."

Ron and Lavender perked up. Lavender was a good student, but she dreaded taking exams. Ron dreaded school in general. Hermione had to beg Ron not to jump straight into the Auror program, after Kingsley's generous offer. He finally conceded that he might not want to be an Auror all his life, and that he may need a broader education, just in case.

"Who's going to watch Professor Sinistra?" Hermione asked. She loved babies, but she didn't think she could actually take care of one—besides, did they even have nappies in Hogwarts?

"I will do it," Fleur volunteered. "If zis isn't fixed before ze 'oliday, I will stay 'ere."

"No, Fleur, do you really think it'll take that long?" Ginny asked, wanting her family to be together on Christmas.

"I don't know—we've seen magic do more zan zis."

"Are these children going to stay over the holiday, if they accept this responsibility?" Madam Pince sneered with hands on her robust hips. Ron and Ginny gave Madam Pince a glare equal in acidity.

"I was hoping to spend the holiday with my father," Luna said.

Neville and Lavender murmured their agreement. Hermione crossed her robes closer to her torso. Why does Professor Snape stay down here in the cold? It's awful!

"If we bring your families here, will you stay?" Professor Flitwick asked. The former dueling champion looked anxious.

Ginny rubbed the back of her head. Lavender wrapped her fingers around Ron's wide hand.

Neville stuck his hands in his pockets. "Gran probably wouldn't mind, spending a few days here."

Hermione examined the legs of Professor Snape's varnished desk. If Professor Flitwick could bring her parents here, she would babysit a hundred children over Christmas.

Fleur motioned to Filius to stop talking, her hand fluttering across her neck. Professor Flitwick turned to Hermione and looked stricken. "Miss Granger, forgive me, I didn't—"

"I'm going to stay anyway, Professor. You don't need to try to convince me," she said with her habitual, dead smile. Hermione knew that smile didn't convince any of her friends, but it still worked on the teachers.

Madam Pomfrey, unaware that the Grangers had been relocated to Australia, clapped her hands together. "That's all settled up then. Now what about these exams?"

"Both types of DADA exams are tomorrow," Fleur said.

"The Herbology exam is today."

"Can Madam Pince have an exam in the library?" Ginny asked, finger on her chin.

"I think we will have to do that, yes."

"We cannot close the library for an exam," Pince snapped.

The Weasleys rolled their eyes. Flitwick saw it. "Why don't you all go take care of our newest children and we'll figure out the exam situation?"