The next morning dawned earlier than I was used to, and I yawned about ten times before I was even in the common room. It seemed the entire Hufflepuff House was in the common room that morning. I said hello to a group of third years sitting near the door before crawling out to the corridor outside with my friends.
"Wonder who we have Potions with?" Hannah asked us, and I shrugged. "Not Slytherins, surely—Snape always puts them with Gryffindors." Susan sighed. "I hate being in hard classes with Ravenclaws. It's just so obvious that they're going to upstage us." I laughed. "You don't really hate it, though. I mean, you always have a special tutor to turn to…"
She punched my arm as we entered the Entrance Hall and said, "Oh, shut up, Megan." I grinned and, having arrived at the Great Hall, took a seat at the Hufflepuff table near the front so that I'd get my schedule first.
"Bollocks!" Hannah exclaimed when Mum had passed them to us with a wink. Susan and I exchanged glances and snickered. "Ha-ha, funny—but look! Herbology first—that's fine, I suppose—but then we've Potions after break, and then Transfiguration and History of Magic after break."
I looked up from the toast I'd been buttering and asked, "What's so bad about that?" Hannah sighed and said, "No reason."
After breakfast, we headed down to Greenhouse 5, where Mum was waiting with an excited expression. "Good morning, Hufflepuffs!" I grinned at her but didn't say anything. It was an unspoken rule that during class, our relationship was strictly student-professor. Everyone filed in, saying hello. "I'm so glad that my first class of this year is with my own House! I always hate it when I don't have Hufflepuffs. It just doesn't feel right."
Instead of doing hands-on stuff, we all sat on stools around a bare worktable and took notes on the O.W.L.s. As we trooped back to the castle in a downpour, Wayne Hopkins said, "I hope to God that every class won't be about those blasted O.W.L.s," before storming off down a corridor.
We spent break in the Transfiguration classroom, the drenching rain persuading us to stay inside. All the Hufflepuffs sat in a tense near-silence, obviously thinking about the looming exams.
Professor McGonagall, sensing that we'd already been lectured, kept her speech quick and set us to Untransfiguring wristwatches, which I had a suspicion were the results of the previous class of third years.
"I've heard that the fifth year is the very worst," Susan said as we left lunch later. "I wonder if O.W.L.s are really hard, or just normally hard." She blew out a long breath and said, "Let's go find the Ravenclaws."
We found them grouped in a corner of the courtyard, huddled as close as possible to the exterior walls to avoid being rained upon. "Hullo Suze, Terry's nipped up to the library," Padma told her as we approached. "Right, thanks," Susan said, winking at us and darting down the corridor.
I moved closer to the other fifth years. Michael Corner was absent, which left Anthony Goldstein, Padma and Parvati (who was strangely absent from Lavender Brown's side), Dean Thomas (who was strangely absent from Seamus Finnigan's side), and Ernie Macmillan, who was lecturing everyone on the importance of studying diligently for the O.W.L.s. "Not you, too," I said to him as soon as he drew breath. He gaped at me and I said, "Come on. They're in June, for God's sake! Haven't we anything else to talk about?"
"Seamus and Harry had a spat last night," Dean told us, nodding at a couple of younger Gryffindors as they walked past. "What about?" Anthony asked, casting a shield around our group, which kept us dry even though we were located almost directly beneath a gutter.
Dean looked uncomfortable. "Well, you know what the Daily Prophet's been saying all summer. Dumbledore's a crackpot, Harry's an attention-seeking hero, all that." While this was news to me, who hadn't read anything in the Daily Prophet except my horoscope for months, everyone else nodded gravely. "Er—Seamus's mum believes it." Parvati said, "Yes, so does Lavender. I mean, there might be a grain of truth in it. I mean, Harry saved that French girl when he didn't have to. Don't you think that maybe he enjoys the spotlight?"
Nobody said anything. A group of second years walked past, giggling annoyingly about something. "I personally think it's rubbish," I announced. "I mean, who'd want to be famous for something like your parents' death?" Ernie didn't look convinced, but Dean and Padma nodded. "And Dumbledore's a genius," I continued.
Before anybody could comment, the bell rang and the Ravenclaws, Ernie, and I shuffled off to Potions.
"Haven't missed Snape much this summer," Justin said, appearing as we trudged down to the dungeons. "Where were you during lunch?" Anthony asked in the hushed tone that everyone used when they'd descended into the dungeons. "Charms Club board meeting," he explained, scratching the back of his curly head. "Flitwick was late, and Demelza Robbins kept harping on about fundraising. I mean, what does she want? Jackets?"
"I know her," Susan said cheerfully, coming down from the stairs to join us in waiting outside the door. "She's a great Quidditch player, but she's pretty bloody devoted to Charms." Justin groaned. "Great."
Just then, Snape opened the door with a loud scrape, making all of us jump, and we all filed in, careful to avoid sitting in the front row. To my delight, I ended up sitting in between Susan and Justin in the middle row on the left side.
Snape turned sharply with a swish of his robes. "I have never known why Hufflepuffs—" he said my House's name like it was a rather bland species of flobberworm—"share so many classes with Ravenclaws." Wayne Hopkins, bless him, looked around, bewildered, like he had no idea what Snape was talking about.
"But I suppose that since you're all so hard-working—" he paused to deepen his sneer "—you're just dying to start studying for your O.W.L.s in June."
I glanced at Susan, and she shrugged about half a centimeter. Neither of us had any idea why it was laughable to be a) hard-working, or b) anxious to start studying for O.W.L.s, but at least he didn't call us any of his favorite insults, such as soft-brained, incompetent, or feeble-minded.
He droned on for about a quarter of an hour, during which everyone took notes, though most of the information was nothing new. Hannah, who sat directly in front of me in between Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein, was even writing down the insults he slipped in.
"I can guarantee that my N.E.W.T. class will be at least halved after next June," he said maliciously, staring at Hannah and Wayne in turn. "Though my N.E.W.T. students should by no means have any befuddled ideas that the work we undertake in this class will get any easier as the…less desirable…members are rightly culled."
He set us the task of brewing the Draught of Peace, which I was determined to make perfectly.
At the end of the hour, a perfect silver vapor was rising from my cauldron, and I proudly carried my flagon of potion up to Snape's desk, where he glanced at it without comment. Victorious, I led the way up to History of Magic.