The next day was Thursday, and it was the last full day of class before the Ilvermorny students were to be dismissed for a fortnight. Ana had spent what precious little free time she had going over the material in all of Harry, Othniel, and Tallulah's classes in the week leading up to the dreaded mid-term exams, which were by far the biggest tests to date.

After a filling breakfast, Ana wished her first year friends luck before they trudged to the castle basement for Potions. For once, Harry felt reasonably confident about the mid-term exam as Ana had told him that this one was strictly a pen-and-paper test; he wouldn't have to worry about any practical application until the end of year.

Harry, Othniel and Tallulah found their seats with several minutes to spare. On each student's desk was a quill with a well of ink – ostensibly charmed to prevent academic fraudulence. Madam L sat behind her desk with an expressionless gaze on her face, interspersed with an occasional sip from her coffee mug. When the clock struck eight o'clock sharp, she stood to her feet and addressed the class thusly:

"All right, students, you've got one more day to get through, and then you'll have a full two weeks to gorge yourselves silly and forget everything you've learned so far this term. Today's mid-term examination consists of fifty multiple choice questions, fifteen fill-in-the-blank questions, and three essays – no fewer than one hundred words apiece. Are you with me so far, or do I need to use more monosyllabic words to make it easier for you armchair magicians to understand?"

Madam L nodded upon hearing a disjointed chorus of "Yes, Madam L". She then picked up a quill from one of the unoccupied desks from the front row. "You will be using these charmed quills to complete your exams – they are designed to prevent cheating and other dishonest behavior." She turned toward the clock on the wall behind her. "You will have precisely one hour to finish your mid-terms, which will begin on my count."

She turned again to look at the clock and waited for the exact moment for the exams to begin. "…five, four, three…" She was cut off by a strange gurgling sound coming from her gut. "Jumping Jehoshaphat," she grumbled as she made a hobbled dash toward the exit. "Wait here until I get back – and I'm warning you, no funny business – or else!"

Towards the back of the room, Replogle, Bungus and Madigan high-fived each other and snickered into their sleeves. "Can't believe that worked," Bungus chortled.

"What'd I tell ya?" gloated Replogle. "The old bat just leaves her morning coffee unattended until class starts. She's had a bug up her ass so long, I figured a little laxative potion might help her with that." He produced an empty glass phial, then turned to Madigan. "Now that the coast is clear, are you ready for the next phase of the master plan?"

Madigan produced a quill from under the sleeve of his golf shirt. "One sabotaged exam, coming right up!"

Replogle nodded his approval. "We'll distract Scarhead, while you swap the quills. Now, hurry up and hunker down before anyone else gets suspicious." Madigan got down and slithered his way to the front, while Replogle let out a loud, shrill whistle. "Hey, Scarhead," he called out. "You dropped something on your way to class." He held out an Astronomy book and waved it in the air.

Harry turned around to see what the commotion was about. As Harry made his way to the back to get a closer look, Madigan made a stealthy quill exchange – he had even checked to make sure that Othniel and Tallulah weren't paying attention.

Meanwhile, Replogle handed the book to Harry. "Here you go, man," he said. "Thought you'd like to have that back."

Harry, confused, took a look at the book. It was an astronomy text for an older student he figured, as it wasn't one that he was using that term. He then looked at the author – Erasmus Porter.

"What kind of idiot do you take me for? I'm a Potter, not Porter, numbskull," Harry snarled at Replogle. "Besides, that's the name of the author of this book – a book for a class I'm not even enrolled in this term!" He angrily thrust the book back to Replogle, who barely held off the urge to chortle.

"Uh, erm, sorry Scarhead. My mistake," the beefy Thunderbird offered half-heartedly.

"Right," groaned Harry as he returned to his seat.

As the clock approached a quarter after eight, Tallulah turned to Harry. "I wonder what's wrong with Madam L…"

Harry shook his head. "I have no idea… this totally isn't like her. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's kinda nice not having her in the class, but we should have started a good ten minutes ago… that means we'll be stuck in this room for at least ten minutes longer!"

"Preach it," chimed in Othniel. "The sooner we start, the sooner we get this over with!"

About five minutes later, the door swung open followed by Madam L sweeping in with the a scowl so large, it might have fallen off her face if it was any bigger. "I don't know if any of you miscreants were responsible for that little episode," she grumbled, "but no matter. I have an exam to proctor, and come hell or high water, I will see this through! Again, you have one hour to complete your mid-terms, starting…" She took a quick glance at the wall clock once again. "… now!"

Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts, while most of the students headed for their dormitories to pack for their journeys home for the holidays, four first-year Gryffindor witches sat impatiently in their house head's office. Daphne Greengrass, the de facto 'leader' of the outfit, sat in one of the middle seats directly across from Professor McGonagall, holding a smallish package in her hands.

Professor McGonagall took a small sip from her cup of Earl Grey tea. "Miss Greengrass," she trilled, "if I'm hearing you correctly, you're telling me that you know the wheareabouts of a certain Mister Harry Potter?"

Daphne nodded respectfully. "I believe I do, Professor. My pen pal, Anastasia, sent me this letter and these photos the other day… she specifically said one of her first year housemates is named Harry, and by looking at this recent photograph…" She pulled out the moving photograph with Ana, Nova, Harry, Othniel and Tallulah, and offered it to her professor. "I'm not one hundred percent positive, but I do think it's likely that they're one and the same… he does bear a strong resemblance to his father James Potter, whose photos are all over the trophy room, and if you look at him just right, you can make out a hint of a scar just below his hairline…"

Professor McGonagall put on her reading spectacles to read the letter, and examined the photograph with a discerning eye. Finally, she made a curt nod toward the girls. "Between you and me, Miss Greengrass, despite your friend Miss Harrison's considerable intelligence, she was rather foolish to share that with you." She sighed and took another sip of her tea. "That being said, I suppose I cannot fault the girl. While I'm sure she's cultivated, I don't think she's truly attuned to British wizarding culture – if she was, she'd have thought twice before sending you that photo."

Hermione then spoke up. "If it means anything, Professor, so far, we've kept our opinion to ourselves… we weren't going to share with anyone else without your blessing – not even our housemates."

"Thank Merlin you've got some sound heads on your shoulders," replied McGonagall. "For now at least, I'd like for you to keep it that way." She took another look at the photograph of five happy-go-lucky youngsters. "Yes, that is indeed Harry Potter." The tiniest of grins dared to tug on her otherwise rigid lips. So handsome, she thought to herself. She then displayed the photo to Daphne, pointing at a pretty blonde teen. "Do you know who this lovely young lady is, Miss Greengrass?"

Daphne tilted her head a shade, but shook her head 'no'. "I don't know her personally, Professor, but from what Anastasia says, her name is Nova. I think she has connections to Magical Britain."

"Her actual name is Anneliese, but you're correct – she's just as British as any of us. She was afforded the rare opportunity to choose between Ilvermorny and Hogwarts – same as Mister Potter," McGonagall elaborated. "She's the daughter of one of my former Lions, Roger Woodward. She ended up being raised by her bigoted grandparents, but to my simultaneous disappointment and relief, she elected to attend Ilvermorny. She must take after her father, as he was a staunch opponent of blood supremacy."

McGonagall took another sip from her tea cup. "I'll make you four a deal. If the four of you promise to maintain your silence on this matter until I say otherwise, I'll do what I can to arrange a visit to Massachusetts during our Easter Break, so you can meet the Boy-Who-Lived, and the rest of your delightful Ilvermorny friends." She could not fully suppress a grin. "Truth be told, it's been ages since I've seen the lad… he may not remember me, but I was the one who delivered him to North America ten years ago!"

All four girls let out giddy, blissful squeals.

Back at Ilvermorny, Harry was enjoying a hearty stew for lunch with his housemates when he was startled by familiar snowy owl. "Hedwig!" he exclaimed, clearly not expecting to see her. "It's good to see you again, pretty girl." Hedwig plopped a rolled-up parchment next to Harry's tray, made a soft cooing noise, and took off for the owlery, just as quickly.

Tallulah pointed a spoon at the parchment. "I wonder what that's all about. It's gotta be really important, for Hedwig to deliver in the middle of the day."

Harry's brow began to bead with sweat as he read the contents. The news wasn't only unexpected, but utterly horrifying:

"Mister Potter,

I regret to inform you that Madam Lewandowski has given you a zero on this morning's Potions mid-term exam, on account of cheating. This disappoints me greatly, as you have been consistently towards the top of your year so far this term.

We have made it abundantly clear since the beginning of term that we take academic dishonesty very seriously. I want you to meet both myself and the Potions Master in my office as soon as we are able, to discuss this further.

Sincerely,

Sen. Prof. L.E. Frye"

"Holy shit," Harry breathed. "This can't be real…"

Tallulah shook her head, bewildered. "What can't be real?"

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. "I've been accused of cheating on our Potions mid-term…"

"What?" screeched Tallulah. "No, that can't be right… those quills were enchanted to prevent cheating. Something's not adding up…"

Othniel shrugged. "Maybe you've been had… y'know, you got set up…"

Harry shifted his gaze. "You might be on to something there… dammit, that jerk!"

"Huh?" asked Othniel, his face scrunched in confusion.

Harry clenched his fists so tightly his fingernails cut into his palm. "Replogle… that idiot distracted me – he told me I dropped a book earlier, which clearly wasn't mine – I'll bet one of his goons must have switched quills when I wasn't looking. That bastard! He's going to pay for that…"

"Yeah, and Madam L looked like she had to go to the bathroom something fierce," added Tallulah. "I'm wondering if one of those yahoos slipped some sort of magical Miralax in her coffee before class started…"

"What I'm going to do to those three… their mothers are going to cry for days when they see what I've done to their 'innocent angels'," Harry said, in a low, ominous growl.

"You're scaring me, Harry," bleated Tallulah. "Please don't get your longjohns in a wad. Replogle and his goons are idiots, but it's not worth doing anything to get arrested, or worse… expelled over. Remember – two wrongs don't make a right. They'll get their just due, I guarantee."

Harry took a few deep breaths to try and regain his composure. "Sorry," he panted. "It's just that Replogle represents everything that's wrong with the wizarding world, and nothing would satisfy me more than to personally knock him down a peg or two."

Even Othniel looked taken aback. "Dude," he commented. "You need to chill out, for real. You may get the better of Replogle at some point, but it's not going to be today. You've already dug yourself a hole – using a shovel won't get you out of it; you'll only find that hole getting deeper. Right now, you remind me of your godfather, and not necessarily for the right reasons. If Sirius were here right now, you know what he'd say? He'd tell you to slow down and think, because exacting revenge without a sound game plan was what got him in all that trouble way back when! He doesn't want you to end up like him – he knows you're better than that."

Harry hung his head. "I guess you guys are right… so, what should I do instead?"

"For starters," replied Tallulah, "you need to march your sorry carcass into Professor Frye's office, and tell them that you didn't cheat. You need to be respectful, yet firm and convincing. I'd also tell them your theory about Replogle, Bungus and Madigan sabotaging your mid-term. Look Harry, I can't promise it'll work, but if it means anything, Othniel and I believe you. Shoot, I'll bet we can even get Professor Lupin to vouch for you…"

Harry smiled weakly at his housemates. "Thanks, you two. I guess I'd better go on and get this over with…" With that, he clanked his silverware on top of his tray before getting up and leaving the mess hall, while Tallulah and Othniel silently wished him luck.