* And we have Chapter 22! It's really pretty outside because it's raining. I absolutely love the rain, it makes me happy.

Exams. John scoffed. People were actually working toward getting a high grade. Amateurs. They didn't seem to understand that tests didn't tell you anything, except that you remembered the name to a certain spell.

For about a week after the game (which John did not watch, because: books) students seemed to lose all care about the upcoming exams. But, to John's dismay, teachers were actually forcing them to study! There were hours in which John would just be sitting in the Great Hall with all the other third years, reading up on Transfiguration. Problem was, John already read the book, and he didn't find it interesting, so why read it again?

John was currently in that position now; looking at study worksheets that just asked stupid questions like, How does vanishment work? What is Gump's Third Law? Explain the concept of Conjuration. John groaned, as he never did well on tests. Well, at least the one he had to study for.

Finally, exam week rolled around, and John wasn't even sure whether or not he was going to make it to the end of the year. John actually memorised what the spell names and movements were, for Charms class. But, they weren't any of the useful ones charms. Why the hell would they need to use a Cheering Charm? Nobody was depressed… Actually, the more John thought about it, the more he theorized that they only added the spell into the curriculum because they knew they would have to use it on someone like Hermione.

But, John was actually truly worried for Potions class. He seemed to really be slacking in that area, and what used to just be an unemotional stare form Snape, turned into a stoney, angry, glare.

To be fair though, John did wonderfully on his potion. It was just the written part he maybe could've done better… John's handwriting seemed to match the "skill of a five year old," as Snape put it.

And then there was Astronomy, which John was sure he was going to ace. He labelled his chart in ten minutes flat. History of Magic was just plain boring. But, it was so humid in the classroom, John seriously wished he had one of those hologram clothes thingys. And there it was again…

Defense was interesting… John had to face a Boggart once more, and the moment he saw it as a pear, he knew something was up. Though, John had to admit that pears were scary, but his Boggart had changed into something truly pathetic. Nevertheless, John was pretty sure he got an 'A' for making his pear fall down onto the ground and smush into gooey mess. John laughed.

John was happier than ever to know that he didn't have to worry about Divination. But, as John was walking back to the common room, he got a glance of Harry, Hermione, and Ron all standing over a piece of parchment. Hermione had silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Ron, read aloud.

"Lost Appeal. They're going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don't come down. I don't want you to see it. Hagrid."

Ron's voice broke.

So, that was what was happening. John knew that Buckbeak was going to be executed. Everybody did. But, John knew that whenever the Three Idiots got over-emotional, the school tended to almost blow up.

John watched as they scurried away, and around fifteen minutes later met up at the same spot, with a silvery-grey cloak in hand. The Invisibility Cloak. John had never actually used the cloak, except he knew that it existed since everything that went on last year… Yowza…

At dinner, John followed them again. They were travelling down a seemingly empty hallway. John tried his best to be less conspicuous. John caught his breath whenever they stopped walking, and he would grab the wall. It was like being a spy, a really horrible spy though.

Hermione whispered, and right when John turned his head on the corner, he saw their bodies disappear from under the cloak. John jumped back to his original position.

John was going to walk down and ask them what they were doing but, he decided against it. Why should he stop them? No, really. Why? This was their own problem… But there was something that was screaming at John to follow. The urge to know what they were doing, and to actually get in trouble. Maybe this was why Clara couldn't stand to be near him… Maybe she thought that he was too troublesome. John smiled at the memory of McGonagall scolding the Gryffindors for the prank played on the Slytherins during the Quidditch match. He was positive that Ginger and Clara had done it, though the red-head probably took the lead. Yeah, gingers were like that…

John shook his head, and realized that they were invisible. So, he might not be even able to follow them. Biting his tongue, John decided against following them. Instead, John cast a sort of perception charm around him. Hopefully, he did it well enough for him not to get noticed. John waited right outside the castle, for he had found an exit to the school building. The sun went down, and the sky was a pinkish-orange.

After half an hour, John heard the unmistakeable sound of hard breaths and running. John turned his head to the opened door to the castle. Out emerged Clara.

"Clara?" John asked, surprised.

Clara squinted. "John? You there? I can't see-"

He removed the charm, and John could instantly see the anger rise up to Clara's face.

"No, no , wait!" John pled.

"What?" Clara asked coldly.

"Don't give me that look! That's what! Also, what are you doing here?"

Clara looked a bit relieved, actually. "Ginny told me that Hermione happened to mention that Buckbeak was getting executed tonight… and… I wanted to stop them."

"How did you know to come here?"

Clara looked a bit out of breath. "I'm friends with a plotting ginger. We knew some ways out of the school to get us to Hagrid's."

For a couple moments, John knew Clara had forgotten of their previous arguments. "Why?"

"Sorry, what?"

John sucked breath. "Why are you so angry at me?"

Clara smiled nervously. "Why? John, you, you forced me to tell you something I wasn't ready to tell you. And don't think for one moment that I didn't know you were planning to somehow find out by yourself. John, I know you."

"You betrayed my trust."

Clara took a stumbling step backwards. "I beg your pardon."

"Clara, months ago we were the best of friends. You would've told me anything. You betrayed my trust!"

"I-I just wasn't ready to tell you specifically."

"Why not?"

Clara's bit her lip. "Because it would've hurt too much for you to know."

"For who, you or me?"

Clara swept her hair out of her face, "I don't know, but it would've hurt us both."

"What's that supposed to mean-"

John's sentence was cut off by a cry from about twenty feet away.

"Clara? John?"

Harry, Hermione, and Ron threw off the Invisibility Cloak, and ran toward the two of them. "What are you doing here?" Harry demanded.

Clara looked around crazily. "Ginny told me that Buckbeak was going to be killed, and I had to come!"

"How did you know to come here?"

Clara smiled guiltily. "It's a long story."Hermione eyes John suspiciously. "And how did you get here?" She glanced at Clara.

John shrugged. "I'm old-fashioned. I followed you."

Harry and Ron seemed dumbfounded, while Hermione seemed plain ashamed. She should've been though. They literally let John, John, stalk them without noticing him.

A mad squeal came from Ron's pocket.

"Scabbers, it's me, you idiot!"

John waved his hands frantically. "Woah, woah, woah, woah! Scabbers is dead! Isn't he? The flat-faced cat ate him!"

"Well, apparently not!" Hermione said gruffly. She looked back at Hagrid's hut. Then, in a whisper, she added, "Please, it's going to happen any moment now-"

Clara took a couple steps forward. Harry grabbed her back.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

Clara pulled her arm out of his grasp. "I'm going to stop them! Buckbeak didn't do anything wrong!"

"You're going to get in serious trouble!" Hermione added quietly.

"Who gives a damn?" Clara snapped back. "This is a matter of saving an innocent animal's life."

Again, the rat started squealing and shaking uncontrollably.

"Maybe we should feed it?" John suggested. "God knows I get angry when hungry."

"Shut up!" Clara seethed.

Strangled, gurgling sounds started to form in the rat's throat. It was screaming, as if it were being exposed to unimaginable torture.

"Please!" hermione whispered again. "We have to go-"

But even the noise coming from the rat couldn't cover the unmistakeable sound of a swish and thus from an axe.

Clara trembled with silent tears. Harry looked angrily into the sunset. Ron was furiously patting his rat down. Hermione was stifling a sob. And, well, John? John was trying to figure out why he hadn't followed Hermione, Harry, and Ron, so that he could've prevented this.