Disclaimer: Not mine – I didn't steal it. I'm innocent.

AN: Thanks everyone, for reading!

Chapter 13: Of Exams and Expeditions

"Harry?"

"Ha-a-arry?"

"Harry."

"Harry!"

Harry snapped awake, looking about frantically around him, eyes coming to rest on Neville's face, a mere few inches away from his. "Neville?" he asked groggily, wiping his eyes.

"Yeah, Hermione's about to start," Neville said with a raised eyebrow.

Harry glanced over at Hermione, who was standing at the head of the large table in the library that he had fallen asleep at, arms crossed and a put-off look on her face.

"One would think you haven't been sleeping, lately, Harry," she said accusingly.

Harry only shrugged.

"Well it's exam time!" she snapped, "The most important time of the year! If you don't sleep well, then you won't do well at your exams. And then the rest of your year will have been a complete waste of time!"

Harry shrugged again.

She sighed heavily, then looked up, glancing at Neville, Padma, Pavarti, Michael, Ernie, Hannah, and Anthony, and cleared her throat, then started, "Tomorrows the first day of exams – we've only got the rest of this afternoon to study now. Since March we've all studied together, and because of that I know you're all very capable – that being said, if any of you get less than an Exceeds Expectations on your final exam, I shall be very cross."

There were several audible gulps.

"Now," she continued, sitting down at the table and folding her hands, "Is there anything in particular any of you aren't very confident on?"

They were all silent a moment, glancing between each other, before Neville spoke up.

"I'm scared I'm going to forget the formula for the Forgetfulness Potion."

Harry snorted, but Hermione glared at him and then smiled at Neville, saying, "Great, well, then let's go over the formula…"

Harry cleared his throat, and Hermione turned to glare at him again, whilst the other study group members shifted in their seats.

"Do you have something to say?"

"Yeah, I do actually," Harry said thoughtfully, "Neville said he's afraid to forget, not that he already has. Right Neville?"

Neville nodded confusedly.

"So, instead of telling him the stuff he already knows, why not just, you know, make sure he remembers?"

The study group members immediately blanched – surprisingly, it was only Hermione who looked thoughtful.

"Harry," Padma began, trying to hide the horror she felt, "You're not suggesting that we help Neville cheat, are you?"

Harry blinked. "No! Of course not! He may be a Gryffindor, but that doesn't mean he's stupid enough to cheat on Professor Snape's exam. I'm talking about using a mnemonic device, or something like that."

The others looked confused, so Hermione explained, "A mnemonic device is a tool that you can use to remember something – it could be anything, really; a pattern in a string of numbers, the first letters of the words in a sentence, a catchy anagram, a visualization…"

Harry nodded. "And all we have to do is come up with one for the Forgetfulness Potion. It will help, and it's not cheating – it's just being clever."

The others looked quite eager at the prospect now.

"This could really come in handy for future exams," Anthony mused.

Harry nodded as Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment and retrieved her quill.

"Now," she said, "First you add 2 drops of water from the river Lethe, then you heat for 20 seconds, and you add 2 Valerian Sprigs, and you stir 3 times clockwise, wave your wand, leave it for 95 minutes, add 2 measures of standard ingredient, take 4 mistletoe berries, crushed to a medium fine powder and add 2 pinches of it into your cauldron, stir 5 times anti clockwise, and then wave your wand. Hmm...but what to do to help you remember…"

"You make up a story," Harry said.

Neville blinked. "How?"

"You're down at the river Lethe, and you wait for 20 seconds…" Harry began, and Hermione's eyes widened and she began to write furiously. "On the way back you find a huge field of Valerian, 2 miles long, and you have to travel 3 miles to get around it, clockwise. You wave as you leave it behind, and keep walking, for 95 minutes. Eventually you come across two bridges of a standard, normal design, and cross them, and find four girls standing on the other side, under mistletoe. You kiss them all, only to leave, crushing their hearts, and only smile at two. The rest of the path is 5 miles long, curved anti-clockwise, but you soon reach your house, and wave as you enter."

Hermione finished the last sentence and set her quill down, looking over the page.

Ernie frowned. "But that's longer than the actual instructions! How's it supposed to help him remember?"

Neville nodded.

"Two reasons," Harry said, "First, people remember stories better than lists – every day you remember what you've done, what your friends have told you, and what you've learnt in class, and you can recite it like a story, but you wouldn't be able to remember if someone just gave you a long list of everything done and heard in a day nearly as well. You can learn a story, and in two years remember it, but when people memorize lists, it's usually only for a few days. So it stands to reason that if Neville repeats the story over and over to himself, he should be able to memorize it. Second, when you take a test, your mind has to retrieve the information you memorize – Neville's afraid that the path to retrieve this information will be blocked by his nervousness. But now, he has two paths to each piece of information, one that isn't actually potions-related at all – more chance of getting it right."

Everyone's eyes were wide.

"Wow!" Hannah exclaimed. "I should really use these more often…"

Harry nodded. "They can be very fun. The other day, I was telling Hermione about this one for memorizing the finer points of human physiology –"

Hermione slapped a hand over his mouth. "And it was positively awful! It was a list of ways to torture or murder someone!"

"But effective for memorizing body parts."

"That doesn't change the fact that it's awful! And can't be healthy!"

"What's unhealthy about it? It's just a bit of imagination…"

"And that's the point! Going around thinking about how to maim or kill people –"

"You never know when you might need it – "

"Not in school!"

"If it makes you feel better, I was only imagining Professor Quirrell for it."

"Why Professor Quirrell?" Hermione cried, horrified.

"Well, I sort of think he's evil…"

That gained him several incredulous looks.

"But he's a teacher!"

"I know that-"

"YOU –"

"Er, guys?"

They both glanced over at Neville.

"Shouldn't we be, uh, studying? And…umm, Madame Pince is glaring at you again."

Harry peered over his shoulder, smiling sweetly at her, and smirking as she huffed and turned away.

Hermione sighed, scowling at Harry. "Honestly…"

"We should write a song," Harry said suddenly.

Everyone turned to him, shocked and slightly wary.

"To commemorate our first year of studying together. A mnemonic song – about…ooh! All the wonderful curses and hexes and jinxes that Professor Quirrell didn't teach us, and we didn't actually learn!"

Exam week passed quickly – the exams were spread out from Monday until Friday, and when students weren't taking exams, they were revising busily; in no time at all, it was all over. By Friday afternoon, Harry was starting to fear that the two and a half hours brewing and writing on the Forgetfulness Potion would not overpower the impending threat of a nightmare featuring tap-dancing pineapples showering cauldron makers with a barrage of snuffboxes with whiskers and mouse tails in his dreams. Currently, though, his sleep, which was in his opinion sure to be tormented by exam memories, was staved off as he lay in the grass outside Hogwarts, shoes, socks, and jacket thrown off, his tie loosened and shirt unbuttoned. Hermione, Neville, Anthony, Terry, Michael, and Ernie were sitting with him, all of them looking quite worn out.

"I can't believe it's over," Harry mused.

"Yep," Terry sighed, "One year down, six to go."

Neville collapsed backward on the grass. "I hope I didn't fail all my exams."

Ernie nodded. "Me too."

Hermione scowled between them. "Honestly – you didn't fail! I saw you both studying, there's no way you can work that hard and fail."

"Unless we're just stupid," Ernie remarked.

"Just because you're not smart doesn't mean you're stupid," Michael pointed out.

Ernie frowned at him. "Thanks."

"You're not stupid! And you're all smart!" Hermione exclaimed frustratedly.

"None of us failed," Anthony said conclusively, "I'm sure we all did very well, and will do even better next year."

Hermione smiled at him. "That's the spirit! Oh, I can't wait until we get our book lists, then I can start studying, and –"

"Hermione." It was Neville who spoke. "Don't even talk about that right now."

"Yeah," Terry said, "If I see another book, I might burn it."

Hermione gaped at him. "But you're a Ravenclaw!"

"That doesn't mean I have to like exams. Ravenclaws are clever. One can cleverly burn a book."

Harry nodded. "Amen to that."

Hermione's gaze snapped toward him. "And what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Don't lie to me!" Hermione snapped, "You're all…all…grumpy!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Grumpy? I'm not…" He paused in thought. "Actually, I'm rather preoccupied."

Hermione blinked, the slightest concern marring her features. "With what?"

Harry bit his lip. "Have any of you got any pets?"

They were all silent for a moment, all of them giving off an air of incredulity.

"I've got Trevor," Neville finally said.

Harry shook his head. "Amphibians don't count. They can't talk."

Hermione frowned. "Neither can other pets."

"Cats meow, dogs bark, birds sing, mice squeak…"

"And frogs ribbit," Hermione deadpanned.

Harry blanched. "Right. Never mind...but still, any other pets?"

"Owls?" Anthony tried.

"Nope, not good enough."

"My mum keeps a bunch of kneazles at home," Ernie said.

"Do they like peanut butter?"

Ernie blinked. "Er…no?"

"And do they have an appetite for human flesh?"

Ernie looked quite horrified. "…no?"

Harry shook his head. "No good, then."

"What sort of pet are you looking for?" Hermione exclaimed.

"A dog. A big, hairy, slightly vicious dog."

Neville looked at him frantically, a nervous look on his face, but Harry only winked.

"A dog?" Hermione said, "My aunt used to have a dog."

Harry smiled. "Splendid. Now, how did she manage to calm it down when she wanted it to shut up and leave her alone? Like, when tossing it stake, bones, peanut butter, chew toys, and small edible animals didn't work. Short of murdering it, that is."

Hermione looked like she had just swallowed a lemon – but she was probably swallowing something between horror and exasperation. "She'd…I don't know, pet it...I guess? Talk to it? Play it music, maybe?"

"Music?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, some people say that music calms animals."

"You don't say…" Harry muttered, "What do you think a dog would like better? Pink Floyd or Led Zeppelin?"

It was twenty seconds before one o'clock AM, and Harry was lying awake in his bed, counting down the moments until he would set out.

"So what are you trying tonight?" Jean queried with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm going to sing to it," Harry said as he sat up, slipping his shoes on.

"Sing to it?" Jean echoed incredulously. "You're going to serenade the hellhound! Ah, how clever!" he said sarcastically.

"I know!"

"I was being sarcastic."

"And I was ignoring you." He glanced at the portrait. "I've got a good feeling about it."

"You've...got a good feeling about it."

He nodded. "That I do. Later."

Peeking inside his Brilliant Boundless Bag, the B3, he made sure his emergency kit was present – it consisted of his Tarot cards, his Rhabdomancy stick, a charmed knife from the kitchen, and a list of useful hexes and curses, along with the counter spells. He hopped out of bed, tiptoeing through the room, pointedly looking away from the mirror, and then he slipped through the door and ran down the stairs, stopping in front of the portrait hole in the common room to put his invisibility cloak on.

"And where are you going?"

Harry spun around, finding Michael and Terry standing behind him, arms crossed and an expectant expression on their faces.

"To the kitchens."

"Liar!" Terry called.

Michael rolled his eyes. "Honestly, we know you're up to something."

"And it has to do with a dog," Terry added, "Probably the third floor corridor too."

Harry looked amused. "What makes you say that?"

"Yesterday, Neville looked quite alarmed when you spoke of a dog – I'm sure you remember that rumour before Christmas of you two sneaking up to the corridor…a rumour I still think you started," Michael said matter-of-factly.

"And then there was what you said about chew toys and small animals – Lisa's missing a teddy bear and Mandy's missing a cat," Terry added.

Harry bit his lip, glaring at the other two boys, but then relented. "Alright, fine, there's a hellhound guarding a trap door in the third floor corridor, and I'm trying to get past it."

Both boys gaped quite widely, jaws slack and eyes round like marbles.

"Why?" Michael finally managed.

"Maybe I'll tell you after I've gotten past."

Terry and Michael frowned.

"Now, be the wonderful friends you are, go back to bed and don't tell anyone?" Harry asked sweetly.

They both shook their heads.

"We're coming with, mate," Terry said.

Michael nodded. "Make sure you don't get killed or expelled or something. And that's final."

Harry glanced between them with a raised eyebrow, and then sighed. "Fine, fine, let's go."

He pushed open the portrait, nearly jumping when he found Neville standing outside, arms crossed.

"Neville!"

"Harry," Neville said, puffing out his chest with forced confidence. "I know you're going back to the third floor corridor."

Harry sighed exasperatedly. "What is this? An intervention?"

"Nah," Terry remarked, "Just a coincidence."

Neville peered inside the portrait hole. "What are they doing?"

"Coming with," Harry said, "You might as well come too, then."

"M-m-me?"

"Yeah, you."

He grabbed Neville's arm and stepped out of the portrait hole, motioning for the others to follow, Neville looking quite alarmed as Harry draped the invisibility cloak as best as he could over the four of them.

Together, the four boys scampered down the stairs of Ravenclaw tower, making a turn down one of the corridors, finding themselves running toward the staircases. They traversed a few, and before long, they found themselves at the entrance of the third floor corridor. They walked to the end of the corridor, stopping at the large, heavy door as Harry took off the cloak and folded it up, stuffing it in his B3.

"Now," he said, "One of us has to stay behind."

Terry blinked. "What?"

Harry looked at him. "It's actually better that you three tagged along, in the end. If something happens down there to us, it would be best to have someone on the surface who knows exactly where we are."

"That's smart," Michael agreed.

Harry nodded. "Now, who wants to stay?"

The other three boys just glanced between each other.

Harry sighed. "Right then. Rock Paper Scissors it is."

"What?" Neville asked.

"Rock Paper Scissors," Harry said, "It's a muggle game. Very useful for making decisions. You count to three with another person and form a symbol with your hand. A closed fist is rock, an open hand is paper, and two fingers are scissors. Rock crushes scissors, paper covers rock, and scissors cut paper. Whoever beats the other wins."

"But that sounds like a two person game..." Michael began unsurely.

Harry nodded. "Usually."

"And there's three of us.

"No matter what, Neville's coming with me."

Neville looked at him, surprised.

"Neville's terrified of Fluffy in there, so I won't leave him just outside its room."

"Who's Fluffy?" Michael asked.

"Never mind that," Harry said, "Anyway, Terry, play Michael. You say, 'One, two, three, Rock, Paper, Scissors!' And then you make your play."

Terry and Michael glanced at each other, and then said together, "One, two three, Rock! Paper! Scissors!"

Terry held out a rock and Michael held out scissors.

"Well, it looks like Michael's on lookout duty," Harry shrugged.

Michael scowled at him darkly, huffing and crossing his arms.

Harry grinned, and pointed his wand at the door. "Alohomora."

The door clicked open, Harry slipping in and motioning for Neville and Terry to follow, Neville whimpering when he saw the great beast sleeping beside the trap door…and Harry frozen in front of it, eyes fixed on a harp playing in the corner.

"He's already here…" Harry whispered.

"Who?" Terry asked.

Harry jumped, seemingly only just noticing their presence. "No one. Damn. I was so looking forward to serenading it with my rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody."

The other two glanced at him, utterly puzzled.

Harry sighed. "Never mind. Come on." He opened the trap door looking down into it. "I can't see anything inside…lumos." He squinted. "Still nothing. We'll just have to jump."

"W-what?" Neville asked.

Harry shrugged. "It's got to be done. Let's go." He smiled at them and jumped.

Terry and Neville gaped at each other.

"Do you ever get the feeling…that maybe, just maybe, befriending Harry Potter was not the wisest decisions? That…it might just get you killed one day?" Terry said.

"I heard that!" came Harry's voice from inside the hole.

"I try not to think about it…" Neville muttered. "Well, he seems to be alive." He took a deep breath, jumping in behind Harry.

"Bloody hell," Terry moaned, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes, and jumping in also. When he opened his eyes, he was shocked to find himself cradled in a dense, winding, vine-like plant. He wriggled about slightly, panicking when he found the vines tightening about him. "What is this?" he cried.

Harry, who looked as though he was trying very hard to stay calm, replied, "I don't know. We…we just need to find a way to get out."

"It's Devil's Snare!" Neville exclaimed suddenly, eyes darting about, observing the plant as its tentacle-like vines wrapped around his legs. "I recognize its leaves!"

Harry gasped as one of the tendrils snaked across his chest. "Then…then sunlight…sunlight repels it?"

Neville nodded frantically.

"Right then...sunlight...fire!" He twitched the wrist of his wand arm. "Incendio!"

A small fireball was spit out of his wand, colliding with the vines, causing them to shrivel as they burned, the surrounding branches drawing back, loosening their hold on the boys and leaving a gaping hole in the middle of the floor.

"Quick!" Harry cried, diving through. He groaned as his body connected with the stone floor, swearing violently when Terry's and Neville's bodies landed on top of him.

They both rolled off him.

"Oh Merlin!" Neville cried, "I'm so sorry, Harry!"

"Meh, he's fine," Terry muttered, standing and dusting himself off.

"I'm not bloody fine!" Harry snapped, moaning when he stood. "Come on," he said after a moment, looking down the stone passageway, "Let's go on."

They nodded, and followed him down the passage, listening to the echoing of their own footsteps mingled with the sound of the delicate trickling of water down the walls – but eventually, another sound joined in. It was rustling, fluttering.

"Can you hear something strange?" Neville wondered quietly, his voice wavering slightly.

Harry stopped, cocking his head to the side. "It sounds like…birds?" He squinted. "There's a light ahead!"

The boys ran forward, to the end of the passageway, running into the light, finding themselves in a brightly lit chamber, the ceiling arching high above them. In the dome-like ceiling, tiny jewel-like birds fluttered about, at a distance from the heavy wooden door on the other side of the room.

"What are those?" Neville asked, his voice awed.

Harry squinted, stepping forward slightly. "They…they're keys!" He looked at the door on the other side of the room. "How much do you want to bet an Alohomora won't open it?"

Terry frowned. "But they're way up there…how are you supposed to get them?"

"With those," Harry said, pointing to a collection of brooms lying against the door. "Well, let's -"

He paused when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to find Neville and Terry staring at him.

"Are you going to explain what's going on first?" Terry asked.

"Look, there's no time…"

"Harry," Neville said pleadingly. "We've braved hellhounds and murderous plants…"

"And now flying keys. In less than ten minutes," Terry added.

Harry sighed. "Look…there's something hidden down here, and someone's trying to steal it. We need to find it first, because I can't let it be stolen."

Terry frowned confusedly. "Why do you even care?"

Neville nodded, equally perplexed.

"I just…I just do, okay? Maybe I can explain more later…but now? Bad things will happen if whoever's looking for it gets there before us. We've got to hurry." He dashed across the room, stopping in front of the door and taking a long look at the lock, memorizing where all the crevices and dents were, trying to visualize what the correct key would look like. A few moments later, he picked up one of the brooms and kicked off the ground.

Almost as soon as he took off, the flying keys began to swirl swiftly about, darting and diving about the domed ceiling. Harry, who, during his flying lessons, had been the most talented flyer in his class, was barely able to keep up with the mass horde of fluttering keys, let alone find the one that fit in the lock.

"You two!" he called down to the two staring boys below. "Take a look at the lock, and help me spot the correct key!"

"Er…" Neville said uneasily, "I think I'll stay off the brooms if that's alright with you…"

Terry, who had already gone to look at the lock, rolled his eyes, and went to pick up one of the brooms. "Right, I'll be right up."

Harry dived down again, chasing after the keys, grinning when he saw Terry joining him. "It'll be silver like the lock, big and old fashioned."

"Right –" Terry cringed as they jerked to the side again, following the keys. His eyes widened and he pointed forward. "There! The one with the crumpled blue wings! That'll be it."

"Perfect," Harry smirked and plunged forward, leaning over his broom as he neared the key. "I'll get it, fly to the door and be ready."

Terry nodded, and made to turn around, but almost fell off his broom when he saw Harry lunge forward and jump, grabbing the key and holding it to his chest as he fell to the ground.

"OOMPH!" Harry grunted, cringing as he scrambled to his feet, leaping toward the door and fitting the key in, as the flying keys above veered toward him, approaching him in a torrent of fluttering wings. "Come on!"

The other two boys leapt through the door after him, gasping as they slammed the door shut behind them.

"A-alright there?" Harry breathed.

Neville only nodded, but Terry exclaimed indignantly, "Never doing that again!"

Harry grinned at him. "Hopefully, you won't have to." He turned his head forward, observing the large subterranean chamber they had found themselves in – from their slightly elevated vantage point, he could see an exit across from them; but blocking their way were several tall, sheer walls of stone. By all appearances, it was a labyrinth.

Harry stepped down from the elevated plane they stood upon, walking toward the greyish walls, in the middle of which stood a narrow opening. "It's a –"

"A maze!" Terry exclaimed, running forward. "I love mazes!" He stood in front of the smooth walls, glee on his face, and leaping through the opening.

"No, Terry, wai-"

Suddenly, there was a deep rumbling below them, and a moment later, the stone walls shook and then snapped together, Terry disappearing within the maze.

Neville squeaked with surprise. "What just happened?"

Harry sighed, a concerned look on his face. "There was a Cerberus from Hagrid, Devil's Snare grown by Professor Sprout. The only one who could have done the charmwork on the keys and the door is Professor Flitwick. My guess is, everyone with a relevant discipline on the staff set up an obstacle. This one must be…Professor McGonagall's – transfiguration, a moving maze."

The walls rumbled and shifted again, another opening forming.

"Only one of us can enter at a time." He glanced over at Neville. "Do you want to go, or shall I?"

Neville sighed, then took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I'll go first."

Harry nodded. "Good luck."

He watched quietly as Neville marched steadily toward the maze, disappearing as the stone closed behind him. A moment later, the walls split again.

"Here goes nothing."

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