Chapter 41 – Much Ado About OWLs

"I never thought he'd be that far up the Inquisition's arse," Harry heard one student say to another as he passed them in the corridors on his way to History of Magic on Friday morning.

"Prick," said the other.

Harry fought the urge to stop, turn around, and give them a punishment for foul language and disrespecting authority. Since his compliance with Umbridge's request to 'break the impasse' with the protesting students Harry's name had been akin to a swear word amongst many of the castle's students. Ordinarily, Harry could have just ignored them, but his alchemically enhanced hearing meant that he overheard a great deal more than most students ever could. The more mature side of Harry knew that he couldn't just go and hand out punishments because he could hear people whispering when really, what they'd said was meant to be private… but the pettier side of him felt strongly that any consequences were more than fair.

Still, Harry couldn't help but look back at the students just to see who they were.

"Oh, Harry…" Tracey said quietly, touching his arm lightly. "I know what people are saying—it's not nice at all. But…"

They stopped walking.

"But it's all my fault and I've got to just live with it?" Harry said, his tone harsher than he'd intended.

"Actually, that's not what I was going to say," Tracey said, completely unfazed by Harry's rudeness. "You did what you had to do to survive. You did what any proper Slytherin would have done. They'll forget about all this soon enough, and you stopped Grimhallow and that lot from getting expelled. They didn't even have any time on the racks. So… you know, the ones saying nasty things need to get over themselves. They weren't in your position—and they should feel lucky they never will be." Tracey shrugged. "They can eat shit."

Harry blinked. Tracey wasn't a priss about swearing, but she didn't swear all that often, so Harry was surprised to hear the words, welcome as they were.

"But you did what you had to do, and we're all behind you with it," continued Tracey. Then she paused, and glanced around at Millie, Daphne, and Blaise. "Right?"

"Yeah, definitely," said Millie. "I mean, it's all a bit shit that it had to stop, and that you had to say anything, but we get it."

"I think you did the right thing, Harry," Daphne said. "It was only going to end badly, like really badly, and you stopped it. So that's good."

Well, Harry already knew Daphne felt that way. She'd been very reluctant to leave Grimhallow and her poxy little box behind in the first place. It was obvious that she preferred the whole plan to have been smothered before it could launch.

"It's disappointing all the protests have stopped. But the amnesty? There are people thanking you for that. But, mate, you can't get sent off to the Ministry, not with Malfoy on the Wizengamot. You said Umbridge implied she'd destroy the letters, right?" said Blaise.

"She implied, yeah," said Harry miserably. "but I don't think she has. She hasn't said anything, anyway. I mean, why would she? Now she knows she can make me do what she wants."

Harry felt a small rush of triumph as nobody seemed to have an answer to that, but the feeling was short-lived once Harry realised that made it all the worse for him.

"You're right about that," Tracey said, "but there's no reason to give up just yet! I'm sure Dumbledore's going to get this treason stuff sorted, and once he has—"

"Even if he sorts it I'm not sure he'll have the pull he used to," Harry interrupted. "So maybe I'm just fucked."

"Maybe," agreed Blaise. "Look. Let's see if we can… I mean, I'm not saying that we definitely should do this, but it's—we've always got the option to try and steal back the letters. I know it's a bit bold, but—"

"It's more than a bit bold!" Daphne said. "It's… well… probably the most bold thing we'll have done all year."

"Yeah, but I reckon that if we just—" Blaise started to say, but Tracey interrupted him.

"We can talk about this later—with everyone," Tracey said. "But we're going to be late for History if we don't hurry up and Professor Flamel was going to talk about the OWL questions!"

"Let's just go," Harry said. He didn't want to miss Flamel's explanations of the likely OWL questions, not with exams just around the corner. And it would distract him from the whispers and his own regret at having made the choices that he'd made, so that was something. Harry set off without waiting for the others to agree, and soon enough they sat themselves down in Professor Flamel's History of Magic classroom for the lecture.

They just avoided being late, something for which Harry was extremely grateful, arriving before Flamel – dressed in her customary flamboyant robes complete with a bird for a hat – closed the doors to the classroom.

As they walked in Harry spotted Inquisitor Weekes sat to one side of the classroom, but Harry didn't think he'd cause any trouble. Not after the very tenuous peace Harry had managed to negotiate, anyway.

"We shall get right into things," Flamel said once everyone had sat down, "because there is simply not much time left before your OWL exams. Of course, you should have started your revision already at the very latest during the Easter break but given the circumstances… perhaps you did not. Still, if the best time to start was a fortnight ago, the second best time is today. With that being said, I am able to guide you somewhat on the likely form of the questions to be asked in the essay portions of the exam. The curriculum has changed substantially since previous years, so we won't waste too much time going over the past exam questions, but what we will do is…"

Harry got out his quill and ink and got ready to take notes. Any help was better than none, after all, and concentrating on Flamel's guidance was better than dwelling on any of the other things he had stuck in his head.

Many of Harry's other lessons were given over to exam prep after the whole debacle with the Inquisition. The vast majority of the teachers had managed to get through their entire planned syllabus already, given that exams were just around the corner, so everyone had enough time to devote to revision and general exam-related nonsense.

Lockhart hadn't got through any of the actual syllabus and didn't seem at all inclined to start even with exams right around the corner. But Remus and the other adjuncts had been able to deliver what was needed, so Harry wasn't too worried about Defence. And he found the actual Defence content easy, anyway, and many of the spells were things he'd been practising with in Duelling Club.

Especially now that he'd joined the Junior level. Some of the spells in the Junior level spellbook were key parts of the Defence curriculum for OWL, so Harry didn't have to worry about that at all. So Harry found that he didn't have to worry about his lessons at all.

Even Alchemy with Dee and Flamel had wrapped up all of the actual teaching.

Dee and Flamel still gave lectures but, as with the other teachers, they were devoted mainly to the upcoming exams – both practical and theoretical.

"…so you've got to be very careful with your Elixirs," Dee was saying as he paced around at the front of the classroom, cigarette in hand, "because the list of things that could go wrong is, frankly, frightening even to me. I had howlers sent when Malone blew his eyes out—not that it was my fault when he took his Salve despite me saying otherwise—but nearly all of the ways you can mess up the Elixir are worse."

He paused to take a long drag of his cigarette.

"I say nearly only because there's a couple of ways the Elixir can fail that aren't a problem—one of them, it does nothing. Literally nothing. But you've got to have failed it very badly and in quite a specific way for that to happen, and none of you lot who are left are bad enough at the craft to get that result out of it. I think," Dee said.

That was… something, Harry supposed. Not exactly praise, but Dee was rarely complimentary. It was a warning worth listening to, though, even if Harry didn't intend to fail with his Elixir. As the last of his exams he could probably hold off on the intensive revision until just a little later… but he wasn't going to. Harry had already come up with several verses of a ritual incantation for it, and he hadn't yet completed his protocol.

If there was one exam he was going into fully prepared it was the Alchemy practical.

"So if I tell you that you shouldn't test your Elixirs at the end of the practical," Dee continued, "you're not going to be allowed to test them. Not this time. I know that's a bit of a deviation from how it's worked before, but this one is too serious to let you lot loose on it. Got it?" He strode back towards his desk, stubbed out his cigarette, and then turned back to the class. "Questions?"

"I know that we're going to be going through the protocols in the rest of our sessions," Hermione said, not waiting to be called upon, which Harry thought was fair – Dee didn't always pay attention even when he'd asked for questions. "But when is the last possible time we can make changes to our methods?" She paused. "And have them looked over by you or Mr Flamel, I mean."

"Seven days before the practical exam," Dee said, "unless that falls on a weekend. Then it's whenever the first Monday is before the exam. Can't be more specific—Ministry hasn't set the dates yet. But if you haven't managed to get it finalised by that point you're probably going to fail anyway." He took a long drag of his cigarette and puffed out a cloud of green smoke. "In the run up to the exam you need to be immersing yourselves in the symbolism of the ritual so that absolutely nothing can go wrong. If you're mucking about with ingredients and processes, you've already gone wrong."

Harry had expected the protocols to be required well before that, so Dee's words were quite pleasant to hear. Not that he intended to go right up to the edge of things because, like Dee had warned was necessary, Harry was going to make sure he completely understood the context and symbolism of his ritual.

Harry put up his hand.

"Professor," Harry said, "I was wondering about mercury. I was going to use an azoth as the base solvent for my reaction. I'm not worried about that—I know for the Elixir azoth is a better solvent than anything else we've done so far. But what I was wondering about was—"

"Azoth?" interrupted Dee. "Bit ambitious, if you ask me—it's not often an OWL candidate tries azoth, let me tell you. Have you considered how to balance the reaction without taking away any of the transformative power?"

"Er, I think so," Harry said. He knew that azoth wasn't the standard solvent used for the Elixir but all of his research suggested that that was only because OWL students weren't ordinarily taught how to make it. It was absolutely the best solvent to use, especially if one wanted to include some of the more esoteric ingredients… which Harry absolutely did.

"I was going to balance it by including sulphur as a counterpart to the watery, feminine energy of the mercury," Harry continued. "Everything I've read about the azoth reaction says that should work, especially if I include two Yin Yang lotus petals. But that's where I was having the problem—I wanted to put in blue lotus petals later on. Would I be able to use blue lotus if I've used the Yin Yang lotus as well?"

"That is how you make azoth," Dee said slowly. "Yes. Stay back at the end of the lesson, Potter—I want to have a word with you about azoth. But as for the blue lotus, it's almost essential to the process. You can get away without it but frankly, why would you want to? Any other questions?"

"Yes, sir—I wanted to ask about the availability of diamonds given the situation with the goblins," asked Mandy Brocklehurst. "I know we've been fine so far, but the papers said recently that the goblins are—"

"Without getting into specifics, Brocklehurst," Dee said quickly, glancing at the Inquisitor sat at the back of the classroom, "we've been able to secure a sufficient source of natural diamonds for all of you. Gold, too, as well as silver. We've had a bit of trouble getting star-sapphires, but unless you're planning to base your whole reaction around them—which I hope none of you are—we should be fine there."

That question made Harry wonder whether one of his lesser used ingredients would be available, so he asked.

"Will we have enough myrrh?" Harry asked. "I'm only asking because I've not seen it in the store cupboards and I wanted to use it."

Dee sighed.

"Ugh. That was the last question about ingredients," he said. "Like every other time, if you put it down on your protocol we'll supply it for you—unless it's like the winds of spring or lunar water. Yes, Potter, we have enough fresh myrrh." He put out his cigarette. "Now, does anyone have any questions about something other than whether this school, which has taught students alchemy for centuries, has considered whether to stock essential ingredients for students' important exams?"

The rest of the session with Dee was given over to questions and discussions on the nature of the various symbolisms used in the Elixir, all of which Harry found both interesting and useful. At the end of the lesson once everyone else had gone, Harry approached Dee.

He'd never been kept back by Dee before – the man generally preferred as little interaction with his students as possible – so wasn't sure how things would go. For a few moments Dee just leaned there against his desk, staring out of the window, before he light up another cigarette and turned towards Harry.

"So," Dee said between drags of his cigarette, "azoth."

He said nothing further.

Harry stood there waiting, but when it became clear Dee wasn't going to continue, spoke.

"Yes, Professor. I know it's a bit ambitious but it really is the best solvent for the reaction especially—"

"I know the properties of azoth, thank you, Potter," Dee said, a bit irritably in Harry's opinion. Perhaps the Inquisition was getting to him, especially as the Inquisitor was still sat at the back of the classroom watching them. "I've produced a successful Elixir myself—using azoth—and many other reactions with it besides that. What I am trying to do is to figure out whether you'll be capable of doing it, or if this is just a waste of both of our time."

That was blunt, but then, Dee didn't usually mince words. He was like a less abrasive Snape in that way, lacking only Snape's genuine aura of malice and spite but none of the other edge. Whether or not Dee rated Harry's abilities as an alchemist was anyone's guess. Dumbledore had said Dee had been complimentary, but Dumbledore said many things.

And then even if Dee did think Harry capable, there was the question of whether he wanted Umbridge to get wind of it and question whether Dee was giving special privileges to one student and not others. Although, given Harry's recent actions, perhaps Umbridge would be more inclined to overlook something like that.

But he could worry about that if Dee let him pursue azoth.

Harry certainly thought himself capable of producing it. It wasn't that it was especially difficult, as far as he could tell. It was just a little bit more involved than the other solvents they'd been using, requiring a bit more of the weirder, more arcane parts of alchemy to produce. But it was definitely the next step in Harry's progression as an alchemist, and if he could manage it, his Elixir would be Outstanding.

Possibly even more than that, as Harry knew the OWL invigilators and markers could award enhanced marks and classifications for work that went beyond the expectations. But he didn't really care about that. The Elixir of Evocation was its own prize, and Harry wanted to create the best one possible.

So Harry waited and watched Dee for any sign that he was done thinking.

"Your Salve and your Draught both went very well," Dee said, although he sounded more like he was talking to himself than to Harry. "You've shown a good grasp of the alchemical process—and it's not often I can say that about a student. But azoth, it's… you know, it's not your basic alchemical solvent. It's NEWT level for a reason."

"I know that, Professor," Harry said. "But I've read about the process and I really think I can do it. I know it's more arcane than the other solvents, but I've—er—I'm very confident for very good reasons that I can manage magic like that. The… the kind of mind-set I'll need…" Harry paused.

He wasn't about to tell Dee about his occlumency, and he definitely wasn't going to mention his forays into legilimency, but Harry was quite sure he had the requisite skill with the lesser taught and practiced areas of magic that he could make azoth earlier than usual. He just needed to figure out how to tell Dee that.

"I'm good with magic that's a little bit more… specialist," Harry said. He braved a glance back at the Inquisitor, then looked back at Dee. Hopefully the chain-smoking wizard would understand the implication of the glance. "I really think I can do this, Professor. I've done everything else, haven't I? My marks in the practicals have been better than anyone else's."

Harry didn't like the idea of bragging about that particular fact, but it was true, and Dee already knew it anyway. He'd given the marks out in the first place. And, really, it was perfectly relevant.

"You have at that," Dee said. "Well. Fine. We'll try you on azoth, then—but you're going to have to come in at lunchtimes or the weekend or something like that for some extra tuition. I'll have Honoria do it." Dee sighed. "Ugh. And you know, Potter, you'll have opened the flood gates on me—Granger and Nott will be next to ask. I don't think Nott could manage it, mind you, but that's none of your business so forget I said anything."

He stubbed out his cigarette.

"Well? What are you waiting for? I'll send a message or something like that with a time for you to meet with Honoria. If you're serious about azoth, you'll need to work very hard indeed before exams. It's only a few weeks out," Dee said. "And you've got a lot of things needing your time and attention, from what I understand. That duelling business, you're a prefect, your other OWLs… wouldn't want you to fail everything else because you pursued azoth when you weren't ready."

Harry blinked. That wasn't quite nice, but it came close to concern, which Harry hadn't expected from Dee. But then, perhaps he was just scared of getting blamed for Harry failing.

"Right. Thank you, Professor! I promise I won't mess it up. I mean it."

Dee just shrugged. Allowed to go, Harry left and headed back to the dungeons, his day's lessons over.

In the run up to exams Harry grew increasingly aware of the many pressures he'd placed upon himself, and the seemingly never-ending series of tasks he had to complete. He needed to practise with Tracey for the All-Isles duelling tournament, which was good fun but harder given their promotion to the Junior bracket; he had to complete all his usual prefectly duties and manage not to get on Umbridge's bad side either; he had mounds upon mounds of revision to do for all of his subjects; and on top of all that needed to commit to learning how to produce azoth.

He didn't even have any time to get out and leave messages and other little bits for the Inquisition to find. Although none of his friends were either, since his deal with Umbridge had meant they needed to simmer down. Harry had even had to stop attending Flight Club. And that was before Ms Platt had sent Harry a message telling him to give over his lunchtimes for additional alchemical tuition.

Not that Harry was going to complain about that. Dee had agreed to let Harry try for azoth but only if he had extra help from Ms Platt. No matter what restrictions it placed on Harry's movements, he was going to do it. It just didn't leave him an awful lot of time for … anything else.

Especially not relaxation.

So Harry attended his lessons, scrambled for time to do revision, and even arranged to meet up with Tracey for dedicated duelling practise. The Junior level was much more difficult, after all. As Harry finished for the day after Alchemy on Mondays, they'd agreed to do practise then right up until dinner. Not ideal, but the only way Harry could fit it in.

So on the next Monday afternoon after Alchemy Harry was somewhat annoyed to be stopped by Brocklehurst on their way from the classroom. He turned to regard her warily, unsure of just what she was going to say.

"Potter," Brocklehurst said. "We weren't sure we should bother inviting you since you've got special lessons with Ms Platt—you and Nott and Granger—but we decided it would be rude not to. We're doing a study group again, if you're interested, and it's all cleared with Umbridge." Brocklehurst paused. "Though from what the gossips are saying, you've not got to worry about that. Me, I don't care what people are saying—it's just noise. So if you're in we're meeting at the same time and same place as before. If you're not… well, that's up to you, isn't it?"

Harry opened his mouth to protest about her comments but then thought better of it. What people were saying really was just noise, and he didn't need to devote his precious mental energy to worrying about it. He just needed to keep his eyes on the prize.

"I'll be there," Harry said instead. "Thank you for asking."

Brocklehurst shrugged.

"To tell the truth, I'm not sure there'd be much point doing it without you there. You, Granger, and Nott are the best in the class, so it's leaving marks on the table if we don't invite you. Dee wouldn't clear me for azoth, so it's not like I'm looking for tips on that, but I'm sure the three of you will have something useful to tell the rest of us." She glanced around as if checking no one was listening. "And between the two of us, I think you're the only reason Terry didn't flub his Salve—he actually listened to what you said. So miracles do happen."

Even if there was a self-interested reason for the invitation, Harry didn't mind. Everyone wanted something, after all, and alchemy study group was at least a mutually beneficial arrangement for all involved.

"Well, I'll see you there, anyway," Harry said. "Thanks again—but I've got to head off. I'm meeting Tracey for duelling practise…"

"Good luck," said Brocklehurst as Harry hurried away. Harry made his way back to the dungeons where he quickly dumped his things in his dormitory, got changed, and met Tracey by the door to the Common Room. Unlike before they'd moved to sparring in the Chamber of Secrets. It seemed like the perfect sort of place to go for it since it was perfectly private.

"Ready?" Harry asked when he got to Tracey.

"Yep!" she said, grinning. "Let's go—I've been waiting! I think I've figured out how we can add the Hawley Shattering Combo to our routine. See, we've been putting it together the wrong way 'round. If we do the—"

"The Puglian Shuffle first," Harry finished, "and then…"

"Yes, exactly!" Tracey said as they walked out of the Common Room. "And there was another thing too," continued Tracey. "If we…"

They walked together, Harry listening to Tracey's ideas for their duelling and keeping one eye out for the Inquisition or any other nosy students who might be following them. Despite their many successes at the Novice level, the Junior level of duelling was proving a tougher nut to crack and Harry knew they needed to do some much more specific and targeted work on it.

They made their way to the Chamber of Secrets after that, passing through the secret entrance and going down the long, winding stairs to the Chamber that lay far beneath the castle. Once there they spent much of the rest of the afternoon working on their spells, both singular and in sequences, as well as working on their combos.

The basilisk waited, coiled, near the entrance to its nest, while Harry and Tracey traded spells in the main section of the Chamber. Somewhat helpfully the room for which the Chamber was named was almost a similar size to a proper duelling arena. It was just a little wetter.

Harry side-stepped a Bludgeoning Hex from Tracey and spun, realigning himself and casting a quick Shield Charm to block her next spell. Harry hit back with a Knockback Hex, then vanished Tracey's hail of conjured stones. He considered his next move, and then—

"Wait, wait!" Tracey said. "Time out. Sorry—my shoe's come untied."

Harry lowered his wand. He let the residual frustration go, taking a moment to breathe and centre himself. It was always a little bit jarring to stop duelling so suddenly, almost as if he really had been fighting and it suddenly just ended without resolution. Not that he wanted to fight Tracey, but… well… that was what sparring was, he supposed.

"It's fine," Harry said. "We should probably take a break, anyway," he said grudgingly. They'd been at it a while and it was always good to take a break and discuss where they'd each gone wrong or what they could have done better. They retreated to Slytherin's private chambers and sat themselves down where it was comfortable.

Not long after they'd settled the basilisk's face joined them at the doorway. As far as Harry understood, snakes couldn't understand human languages, but it liked listening to them talk anyway and given its isolation, Harry thought that fair enough.

"These are meant to be self-tying," Tracey said as she took off her shoe and examined it, "but I think the charm's worn off. That'll teach me for buying cheap shoes, I suppose. Won't be going there again."

Harry looked down at his own trainers, which were of muggle design and manufacture.

"I wish mine were self-tying," he said. He liked muggle shoes. They looked more interesting than what wizards made, and they were comfortable, and great for doing sports in. But the allure of a self-tying shoe was quite strong. "I wonder what the charm is."

"It's proprietary," Tracey said. "It's not just, you know, a tying charm."

"Of course it isn't," Harry said. It couldn't have been that easy. He wondered if he could figure out how to do it anyway. As long as he didn't try to sell any shoes with the charm on it he should be fine… although perhaps finding new and different ways to piss of the Ministry was unwise.

"I think we did really well there," Tracey continued. "You're much better with your Shield Charms, and you vanished my rocks easy! I think we've got a great chance in the tournament."

Harry nodded along, keen to get his mind off his Ministry related woes.

"Your rocks were brilliant—you're much better at conjuring now," Harry said. "I remember when we started…"

Tracey went a little pink.

"I've been practising," she admitted. "Quite a lot. But the other Juniors… even the ones who aren't that good know more spells than we do, don't they? So…"

"So we've got to be better, yeah," Harry finished. They'd spoken of that before. The Juniors were all NEWT level students, many of whom had completely mastered non-verbal casting and knew all sorts of useful spells. Harry's own forays into non-verbal magic hadn't gone quite as well as he'd hoped, and with everything he had to learn for the OWLs on top of everything else, he hadn't been able to learn many of the NEWT spells either.

So it was a case of making do with what he had.

Which, in fairness, had won him and Tracey two international duelling tournaments at the Novice level, so it wasn't as if they were working with nothing at all. But…

"I've got to say, we are better than most of the other Juniors," Tracey said. "Not to sound like a braggart or anything. We just are. They know more spells, but most of them aren't good at using them."

"That's true," Harry said. "Most of them don't have the experience to use what they know properly, so we've got that going for us."

"We do need to watch out for Hermione and Fred, though," Tracey said. "I know they didn't win their tournaments but… well… they do have the proper duelling experience, don't they? And Diggory and Jasper Flickey."

Harry nodded along. That's what he'd been thinking, too. Although perhaps Diggory wouldn't be as much of a problem as either of them thought, since as Head Boy during the Inquisition about to sit his NEWTs, he had rather a lot on his plate.

"I'm glad we could make time to do this," Harry said. "I know we both needed the practise, but… I mean… I'm glad we could do this. I almost feel relaxed."

"Only almost?" Tracey teased. "I know what you mean. Although I don't have it nearly as hard as you do—you've got loads on, Harry, and you're doing it really well. I can't imagine how I'd cope with it if I'm honest."

Harry shrugged. The things he was doing all needed to be done, and more than that they all needed to be done by him. There wasn't any other choice but to get on and do them. If he slacked off on any of them the consequences… well, he didn't like the consequences at all.

"I've got to do it, haven't I?" Harry said. "I've barely had any time to hang out with any of you this year. But… It's just how it is. I am worried about those letters Umbridge has, though. I don't trust her with them—there's no way she'll get rid of them. Not unless Dumbledore's cleared and they're useless to her, anyway."

Ever since he'd agreed to Umbridge's deal that thought had been going over and over in his head, and it had only grown worse since he'd actually had to intercede on the Inquisition's behalf.

"Well… we could try and steal them from her," Tracey said. "I don't think Blaise was joking when he said about it. I know he's been a bit worried about getting caught, but I do think he was serious about helping you."

Blaise had called it bold. Daphne had – quite rightfully – said it would be more than that. But maybe it was necessary… if Harry was going to get out from under her grasp he needed to be sure she no longer had any leverage over him. And that meant destroying the letters and any copies she'd made of them.

Which was easier said than done.

"How would we even do that, though?" Harry wondered aloud. He supposed that the Invisibility Cloak would be a massive help. It was still stashed in the Chamber unless Harry really needed it, but sneaking into Umbridge's office – or private quarters, perhaps – was the very definition of 'really needing it'. "I mean, I've got the Cloak, so I can go invisible… "

"And we've been doing the Disillusionment Charm with Flitwick, haven't we?" Tracey said. "So the rest of us can hide as well."

That was true, Harry realised. Flitwick had been going over the Charm with them ahead of the OWL, although more as a favour to Remus for the Defence curriculum than for Charms directly. So Harry could take those of his friends who were best at the charm with him as lookouts or even to directly help him…

But it was still dangerous.

"Fred and George have my dad's map," Harry said. "I can't remember if I said, but I got them to admit it. So if I can get them on board—and let's be honest, they'd never give up the chance to do something like this—I bet they'd let us use it. Or use it for us, anyway."

Since they hadn't seemed especially inclined to give the Map to Harry – at least not yet. But Harry thought they'd be open to using it to assist with stealing from Umbridge at the very least.

"You did mention," Tracey said. "So… see? It's not all doom and gloom, is it? We can come up with something. Now come on—let's get back to duelling! We've had enough rest. I want to try conjuring bigger stones this time." She'd finished with her shoes by then and got to her feet. Harry followed her and they spent the rest of their afternoon – almost right up until dinner – duelling in the Chamber while the basilisk watched.

The rest of term passed by in almost a blur. Most of Harry's days went by the same way: lessons when scheduled, prefect duties, and whatever scraps of time he had remaining given over to his revision and his alchemical preparations. Those he did alone, in the Alchemy study group, and with Ms Platt, Hermione, and Theodore.

Whenever possible he sparred with Tracey, mindful that the All-Isles Tournament was coming up after exams were over, but even that was something Harry couldn't devote too much time to.

Soon enough Snape – or rather, his apprentice, Mr Shafiq – was handing out the exam timetables and Harry had had to finalise his protocol for the Elixir of Evocation.

And so Harry sat his OWLs. The core subjects were all easy enough, and with some luck, he'd never again need to attend Herbology lessons or Astronomy – and History of Magic, despite being quite interesting now that Professor Flamel had redone the course, could be made history itself. Harry didn't have any problems with his spell-based practical exams – not even transfiguration, his weakest spell-based subject.

He had some trouble with some of the theoretical exams, like in Herbology, but he didn't think he'd done so badly as to fail. But the last pair of exams, the Alchemy theory and the Alchemy practical, were what Harry had been waiting for.

His year's work all culminated in a three hour written exam and a technically unlimited practical assessment. Not that Harry intended to take any longer than twenty hours. He'd even brewed himself a Pepper-Up Potion for the exam just in case he ran late, but he didn't think he'd need it.

Although since it was allowed – expected, even – he was going to bring it anyway. But first, Harry needed to sit his theory exam. The handful of students still in Alchemy stood gathered outside of the exam room – one of the smaller empty rooms in the castle – waiting to be shown in. The invigilators were all the same as the ones they'd had for all their other OWL exams, including the Alchemy practicals, so Harry didn't worry about them. They were fair, and he didn't intend on cheating anyway.

"Do you think the exam will focus more on the abstract theoretical processes or on the practical applications of theory?" Hermione was saying to the group. "Because at first I thought that it would of course be more practical, but isn't that what the actual practicals were for?"

"I wondered the same thing," Theodore said, which surprised Harry – he didn't usually offer opinions in group settings. "But what you said the other day stuck with me—I really do think they'll take the chance to test our understanding of the more obscure aspects of theory we were supposed to learn this year. Didn't Mr Flamel say they'd revamped the curriculum a bit?"

"He did," Harry said. "They wanted to make the distinction between the practical assessments and the exams more rigid." Which was why Harry hadn't worried at all about the content of the theory exam: he understood the theory well enough produce actual alchemical works based on it. He could write an essay or answer trickily worded questions on it without issue. "So they're going to ask us things about, you know, self-actualisation, the apotheosis, the role of symbolism… all that stuff." He paused. "Probably something about how Colour Theory. You know, how it's like, fundamental to the entire process of alchemy and you can't really do stuff without it. Stuff like that."

He shrugged.

"That's what I've revised, anyway."

"That's what we went over as well," Theodore said, glancing at Hermione. "I think you're right. But I don't think it'll be anything completely different from the practicals, because even though they want to test us on different things, they can't test us on anything we haven't learned."

"So more like the underlying principles?" Boot said. "Well, that's good, I suppose. We've got to understand those or we wouldn't have got this far."

"I just hope the exam's not too bad," Dragonsfoot chimed in with his booming voice. "This year is the first time I've ever actually done exams and it's been… hard."

Ah, that's right, Harry thought. Dragonsfoot had been entirely homeschooled before Hogwarts.

"I mean, I did concentrate on alchemy because it's the hardest subject I do," continued Dragonsfoot, "but I just hope I've done enough…"

"You'll be fine, Thomas," Brocklehurst said. "You've been doing well enough in study group, and if you've been passing your essays and homework questions this theory exam won't be a problem at all."

"It's just a pity the theory can't save you from a failed practical," Boot said. "Can you imagine getting through all the other practicals, doing this exam, and then not even getting a grade because you bollocksed up your Elixir? Embarrassing."

"You won't go ungraded because you failed the Elixir," Hermione said. "I know that's what they've all said happens, but I checked, and it isn't true. They cap your mark at an Acceptable. So it's true that most people fail the OWL if they fail the Elixir, but it's possible to pass it if you do well in every other part."

"Really?" asked Boot. "Where'd you find that out?"

"I read the Ministry guidelines," Hermione said. "You can request them from the Department for Magical Education." She paused. "Well, technically they were the addendum to the official guidelines—you have to ask for them specifically or otherwise they won't tell you."

"Hmm," Boot said.

If what Hermione had said was true Harry felt much better about his chances at getting an OWL in Alchemy. For one thing, he'd got top marks on his two previous practical projects. And he didn't think he would fail the theory either, so even if his Elixir of Evocation was an abject failure, he reckoned he could scrape an Acceptable.

Which was… well… acceptable, if not particularly good.

They chatted for a short while until the invigilators arrived and led the seven remaining alchemists into exam room to begin the exam. Harry worked his way through it methodically, tackling the shorter, easier questions first and then taking his time to consider how best to answer the two – quite substantial – essay questions which made up the bulk of the marks.

Three hours later Harry emerged from the last of his theoretical OWL exams exhausted but quite optimistic about his chances. He didn't stick around to go over the fine points of the exam questions even though he knew several of the others would. He didn't need the validation, and he wanted to get a good bit of rest in before the practical exam the following morning.

Since that was where the bulk of the year's marks would come from, and even if it hadn't been, the Elixir of Evocation was a good enough prize on its own. So Harry retreated to the dungeons right away, keen to relax before he spent some time going over his protocol.

And after what felt like no time at all it was the next morning, and Harry was whisked away after breakfast to the alchemy lab for the final of his year's three Alchemy practicals. He'd taken some food along with him, as well as a Pepper-Up Potion just in case.

"You are all quite aware by now of the rules," Madam Marchbanks was saying as she stood at the front of the lab, "and so I will not spend too much time on this. What I will say is this—good luck. You have all worked very hard to get here and I would not like to see you fall at this last hurdle. You may begin."

That was all the permission Harry needed to get started. He checked over his alchemical apparatus first of all, moving along it and checking the tightness of valves. Once all that was done Harry attended to his ingredients. He'd had to collect a few different things for the Elixir, including lunar water, and he'd had to specially order sphinx hairs among other things using the alchemical supply forms. He'd wanted to go out and get essence of lightning, but Dee had forbidden it. So Harry had had to make do with some from the stores.

Everything he needed was present on his alchemical workbench, so it was just a matter of sorting it so that it was all where he needed to be when he needed it there.

Then, once he was sure he had all the ingredients he needed, Harry set about placing the sigils. He needed all the usual ones, and even a couple of less used sigils. When he was done with all that, Harry stood back and took a few moments to gather his thoughts.

Unlike his previous projects the Elixir of Evocation didn't have a single – or even two – powerful symbolisms to tie the ritual together. Instead, successful Elixirs relied on a number of different symbolisms chained together and bound up within a complex ritual framework. Harry had made use of as many as he felt like he could work into his ritual, from amber to the Moon, various kinds of lotus flower, and even the raw, untamed power of dragons. He didn't want to leave a single avenue unexplored, and so he'd packed his protocol as tightly as was viable.

And both Dee and Flamel had signed off on it, so he should have been good to go.

The Elixir was really a test of everything he'd learned over the course of the year, as well as of how he could design a protocol with many disparate pieces. All of that would be useful for the NEWT. Once Harry was sure he'd settled down and had the right frame of mind to create his azoth, he set to work.

The method to create azoth started the same as the more basic alchemical solvents he'd produced previously, but deviated quite quickly and had a few tricky steps beside. So Harry put all the ingredients he needed for the azoth to one side, separate from what he needed for the Elixir proper, just so he didn't get them mixed up.

Then, Harry started making his azoth. That was a standardised procedure, albeit one with a couple of arcane digressions to it depending on the alchemist, so Harry felt comfortable with it. It anchored the reaction in a very useful way, and his practice of occlumency gave Harry exactly what he needed to maintain the mental state required for its production. All that allowed Harry enough time to focus on his gathered symbolisms for the ritual itself.

"In horto mentis florescunt cogitationes, ubi mens tua est hortus, terram colens scientiae," Harry said as he added the first lot of ingredients. The first of the symbolisms in his reaction relied on the idea of the mind as a garden, which had resulted in a rather more flowery incantation than he'd used previously. It was a somewhat tenuous connection, but the Elixir was essentially an exercise in making the most out of tenuous connections, so Harry wasn't worried about that.

It was enough that everything worked together, and Harry had taken the time to ensure that it all would. So he kept at it, moving through the stages of his reaction, all the while repeating the key parts of his incantation at just the right times. The alchemical laboratory was filled with the sound of everyone else doing the same things, along with Ms Platt as she wandered around the room wafting alchemical incense everywhere, and the constant sound of flame as it heated the instruments.

Harry kept on. He added the powdered silver carefully to the middle of the apparatus, conscious of avoiding clumping. The mirror symbolism would fail if there was any clumping.

"Ut speculum te videre possis, mente tua te videre potes, sine velo erroris," Harry said, using his wand to stir the silver into his solution.

With a spare moment Harry glanced at his watch. Six hours in. He took a breath. He was more or less half-way through the reaction. He hadn't added his dragon's blood yet, nor the sphinx hair, but he'd ticked off most of the underlying symbolisms. Certainly, he'd hit all of the usual suspects – mind as a garden; mind as a maze; the waters of memory; even the mind of many mirrors.

Harry felt good about his progress. Good enough that he didn't even feel a need to check on anyone else – he could hear them, of course, but he wasn't concerned at all with what they were doing. Instead, he took a few moments to eat his snack. He'd been at it long enough to have missed lunch, and he'd probably miss dinner, too.

Harry hoped he'd miss dinner, anyway. Anything less than that and he'd have failed the reaction.

But Harry didn't think he was doing badly. His azoth had come out very nicely, and he just needed to coax the reaction along until it was time to make use of the dragon's blood and sphinx hair. He looked over at the window, but saw nothing due to the blackout blinds.

Right, Harry thought. He looked at his watch instead. Lunch was gone. If there had been lessons, lessons would be over. But he still had many hours left until his reaction was over.

But before that, he needed to add the crushed lotus petals.

"Just a few more seconds…" Harry muttered to himself as he watched the time tick away on his watch. The crushed lotus petals needed to be added just as the solution started to boil. Harry added them and they immediately dissolved, the azoth doing its work. Then the reaction stilled.

Shit, er… Harry thought. Total stillness wasn't quite what he needed. The reaction should have…

"Essence of lightning, right," Harry remembered. He grabbed the bottle and added it, and the liquid careened around the vessel until it ran through into the next of his vessels.

Harry kept going, moving through the different steps of the reaction, incanting his ritual words. Many of the others in the lab had finished by then: Grimhallow had gone first, followed by Boot and Brocklehurst. Dragonsfoot still worked away at his own reaction, as well as Hermione and Theodore.

Two-thirds of the way through Harry stopped to take his Pepper-Up Potion, one eye still on the reaction. He hadn't wanted to take it, but he could feel himself beginning to flag. He'd be up for hours, but then Harry supposed that was the trade-off.

Harry worked through the final steps in his reaction, adding in his dragon's blood and sphinx hair, and all of the final ingredients. The solution was even approaching the right colour and consistency, although wasn't quite there. But that was fine – Harry knew he still needed to say the final part of the incantation.

"Per haec symbola et mysteria mentis et memoriae, fac ut potestas tua crescere possit et memoria tua lucida sit," Harry said in his final exhortation, drawing together all the parts of the ritual. Then, with a series of slow wand movements, Harry watched as his solution lost its final misty haze and became totally still and clear.

He waited for it to cool and then bottled it. He took a few moments to gather himself and then put up his hand. It took Ms Platt a few moments to register it, which Harry didn't mind.

She'd been stood there all day, after all, doing essentially nothing. It was bound to get tiring.

"Done?" she asked him quietly. Harry nodded. There were only him and Hermione left, so she was no doubt counting down the minutes until she could leave and get something proper to eat.

Platt led Harry into the adjoining room along with Madam Marchbanks, and not long after that, was replaced by Professor Dee.

"Well, let's get this over with," Dee said without preamble. He grabbed Harry's Elixir and unstopped it, sniffing it. "Smells fine," he said. He held it up against one of the lamps in the room. "Looks fine…" Dee shrugged. "I suppose it's up to you, then. Taste it or don't."

"And it's not going to kill me?" Harry asked, eying it. He didn't think he'd done anything at all wrong. His mental state throughout the ritual had been consistent. His incantation had been perfect – Flamel had said so. So he didn't think there would be any problems with it, but given the list of potential outcomes…

"Probably not, no," Dee said. "But that's the risk, isn't it?"

"Alright," Harry said. "I'll try it."

"As you wish, Mr Potter," Marchbanks said. "I shall observe."

Harry took his vial back and drank his Elixir in a single go. No sense taking his time over it. Unlike his Draught, the Elixir tasted of nothing at all. That in itself was surprising, given everything that had gone in it, but Harry supposed—

Harry's mind went blank, and then he fainted.

Groggy, Harry opened his eyes. At first he wasn't sure where he was, or why he was there, but awareness came creeping back with every passing second. He was… he was draped over a chair, Harry realised. A chair that he hadn't been sat in, at least not that he remembered.

What was I doing? Harry thought. I was… Oh, shit—the ritual.

"Oh, good," said Dee. "That took a while. All good in there? Still… yourself?"

"Myself?" echoed Harry. "I think so. I'm… yes, definitely still myself. I feel good, actually." The fog had cleared, and Harry realised that his Elixir had worked. He wouldn't know how well until Marchbanks had done her testing but he didn't think he'd done any less than an Exceeds Expectations.

"But I wasn't expecting to just faint," Harry continued. "The other ones were a bit more… well, they were painful and unpleasant. But this felt like nothing."

"Mind shut down during the repatterning," Dee said. "It probably did hurt, but you weren't there to feel it. Mine was the same." He shrugged. "Well, Madam Marchbanks—I think he's ready for testing."

"We're going to do a few memory tests first of all, Mr Potter," Marchbanks said. "Nothing too onerous—especially not for someone with a successful Elixir to his name! Are you ready?"

Harry nodded. The cobwebs – metaphorical and literal, given what had gone in his Elixir – had cleared, so there was no sense waiting around. Marhcbanks moved Harry through a series of trivial memory problems, then moved on to other, stranger questions. Questions about patterns of varying kinds – patterns of colours, number sequences, repetitions of odd strings of letters and things of that sort. A couple of arithmantic problems, even.

Then, as suddenly as she'd begun, she stopped.

"I believe you have passed your OWL practical," Marchbanks said. "We will, of course, need to properly evaluate your answers but I am confident that you have successfully created an Elixir of Evocation."

"I'd say so," Dee said. He turned to address Harry. "So, you're done. That's the OWL. One warning—the Elixir takes a little time to fully work. It's mostly done—your answers to the questions showed that—but you'll find things different again tomorrow morning after a sleep. Enjoy, Potter. Now, I do think that Miss Granger will be finished around now if she's done her protocol properly, so you'd best be getting along. Good night, Potter."

"Er… thanks, Madam Marchbanks," Harry said. "Professor Dee." He stood up from the chair and left the chamber, emerging into a dark and quiet corridor.

He'd missed dinner. He'd gone through past the curfew, even, although that wouldn't be an issue. He was a prefect, after all, and he'd just sat an exam which took until after the curfew. Even so he hurried back to the dungeons, keen to get some sleep. Despite the Pepper-Up Potion he felt tired. When he reached the Common Room it was near enough empty save for the usual fifth years who never seemed to go to bed.

Harry went to bed right away, falling asleep near enough as soon as he hit the mattress.