The Fire You Touch

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Chapter 10: Prelude to the End of the Game

Back at Hogwarts, Aeryn threw herself into her studies. She also got a chance to break in several of her new robes, eliciting a variety of responses from the staff. Professor McGonagall had raised an eyebrow at an off-the-shoulder scarlet robe thickly embroidered across the bodice with gold thread, but merely commented that should the Sorting Hat place her in Gryffindor, she would have perfect dress robes. Gilderoy Lockhart—whom she always seemed to run into whenever she turned a corner, no matter how hard she tried to avoid him—loudly praised her new wardrobe, especially her flowing jewel-blue robe dotted with silver studs—"my favorite color," he gushed—but after looking at his robes, Aeryn wasn’t sure how much she wanted to value his fashion judgment.

With only a week left before the students returned, the school was bustling with last-minute preparations. Classrooms were cleaned, the Great Hall was polished from ceiling to floor, and the teachers organized their course lists one final timeÂ…or, as in Professor SproutÂ’s case, several times. During her final Herbology classes, the little witch was more concerned getting her judgment on the course load than grading her star charts. The hallways of Hogwarts were suddenly teeming with ghosts, all of them jabbering excitedly to each other and the paintingsÂ…Aeryn had to admit, for inanimate objects and dead people, they were all ratherÂ…wellÂ…lively. The excitement was beginning to affect her as well; she found she was anxiously looking forward for some more students to join her.

No matter how much she was ready for the semester to begin, the final round of exams came far too quickly for Aeryn. The Monday before the students arrived, Aeryn sweated through her Magical Theory and History exam, breaking two quills and nearly upsetting her inkstand before she finally rolled up her parchment and dropped it on McGonagallÂ’s desk. "DonÂ’t worry, Miss Blake," the professor called reassuringly after her as Aeryn staggered out the classroom door, "I highly doubt youÂ’ll flunk out of Hogwarts over one exam."

I wouldnÂ’t count on that,

Aeryn thought grumpily.

Tuesday was her Herbology exam, which was easier than she had expected. Professor Sprout gave Aeryn an essay question on the eating habits of several carnivorous plants, and then she transplanted some Mandrakes that Professor Sprout had just received. She explained to Aeryn that, for the beginning of the semester, the second-years would be responsible for caring for these dangerous but highly useful plants.

Wednesday was the Care of Magical Creatures exam, or in other words, a free day for Aeryn. She helped Hagrid de-slug the cabbages in the garden, and spent the rest of the day cramming for her Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts exams. They werenÂ’t until Friday and Saturday, respectively, but Aeryn was already dreading the impossible feats Snape would inevitably hurl towards her. She spent Thursday in a daze, by some miracle making it through her Astrology exam without thinking about the seven different ways to tell a werewolf from a regular wolf.

Friday, as she had expected, was hell. Her task for the Potions exam was to prepare a Forgetfulness potion. It took a great deal of concentration not to flinch as Snape paced around her as she prepared the ingredients, breathing down her neck from time to time to make some sarcastic comment. By the end of the two-hour period, Aeryn was a nervous wreck, but had prepared a flawless potion. There was a definite look of disappointment on SnapeÂ’s face as she climbed from the dungeon, wiping her brow on the sleeve of her robe.

She awoke Saturday morning to a brilliant summer morning and a sinking pit in her stomach. Come on, girl. One more exam, and then youÂ’re done. Then, tomorrow, Harry and his friends are coming. Think about that. She dragged herself to the Great Hall for a bit of breakfast, which she barely tasted as she ran over her notes for Defense Against the Dark Arts. After several hours of last-minute cramming, Aeryn clomped down the stairs to SnapeÂ’s dungeon to take her final exam.

Snape glowered at her as she entered, a sure sign that she had passed her Potions exam. Without a word to him, Aeryn pulled out a roll of parchment and her quill. The essay question was already on her desk, and with a prayer and a deep breath, she started writing.

She was halfway through the exam when the dungeon door burst open and Gilderoy Lockhart, resplendent in violet robes and carrying a tray of drinks, fluttered into the room. "Good afternoon, Severus," he exclaimed, ignoring the snarl that sprang to the Potions MasterÂ’s face and setting down his tray on an empty desk. He looked over at Aeryn and winked, rubbing his hands together. "Last exam, eh, Miss Blake?"

"Yes," Aeryn said tightly, scratching furiously on her parchment.

"Excellent! Well, I don’t want to bother you—" Too late for that, Aeryn thought as she laid down her quill and massaged her hand "—but I thought, that in celebration of the beginning of the school year, I would share with you some of my world-famous homemade butterbeer!" With a brilliant smile, Lockhart offered a steaming goblet to Snape.

Snape looked at Lockhart as if he had just offered him a cup of bubotuber pus. Lockhart ignored the glare and placed the goblet on SnapeÂ’s desk. "And how about you, Miss Blake?" Without waiting for her response, Lockhart handed Aeryn another goblet. Not knowing what else to do, she took it from his hands and sniffed the contents.

Lockhart picked up the remaining goblet from the tray and raised it. "Cheers, Miss Blake," he cried, clinking his cup against hers. After a moment, Aeryn shrugged and took a sip of the liquid. It actually was fairly decent, warm and buttery and sliding down her throat like liquid silk.

"Well?" Lockhart asked, beaming at Aeryn. "The recipe’s of my own make—of course, the Leaky Cauldron and hundreds of other pubs are banging at my door to get the ingredients from me, but of course I won’t sell them—can’t let them know all my secrets, of course."

"ItÂ’s very good," Aeryn commented, handing him back the empty goblet and picking up her quill.

Lockhart looked sadly over at Snape. "Severus, old man, you havenÂ’t touched your butterbeer yet."

SnapeÂ’s coal-black eyes glowered at him. "If I drink it," he hissed, "will you get out of my classroom?"

"Certainly, Severus." Lockhart placed his goblet on the tray and smiled brilliantly at Aeryn. "Miss Blake has to finish her exam before the students come tomorrow, after all! Well, go on, my friend, drink it down!"

Snape grabbed the goblet from the corner of his desk and tossed the contents down his throat in one sharp motion. He swallowed, grimacing slightly, and handed the goblet back to Lockhart without looking at him.

"Thank you, Severus," Lockhart said quietly, and AerynÂ’s head jerked up at the underlying coolness lacing his words. A small, satisfied smile played across Gilderoy LockhartÂ’s lips, but was quickly erased as he felt AerynÂ’s eyes on him. He winked knowingly at her, turned, and slipped through the dungeon door without a word.

A thread of uneasiness tickled the back of AerynÂ’s mind, but, after a moment, she began writing again. The room fell silent except for the scratching of her quill against the parchment. After a half an hour, Aeryn scribbled the conclusion of her essay, punctuated it with a flourish, and sat back in her chair with a sigh.

"Finished already, Miss Blake?" asked Professor Snape, but for the first time, Aeryn heard no sarcasm in his voice.

Aeryn did not answer, but merely gathered up her quill and inkwell, and carried her roll of parchment to SnapeÂ’s desk. He was shuffling through some papers on his desk. Without a word, Aeryn gently laid her essay on his desk.

As she turned to go, SnapeÂ’s hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist. The professorÂ’s head lifted and his empty black eyes flickered across her form. After a moment, the faintest ghost of a smile flickered the corner of his lips, and he gently released her wrist.

"You will get your grades tomorrow," he said, his voice cold and emotionless, and he curled slowly back over his desk. "Best of luck, Miss Blake."

Aeryn ran a hand reflexively over her wrist. Professor Snape did not stir from his desk, nor look at her again. After a moment, she walked across the room pushed open the dungeon door, relieved that her exams were finally over, but unable to deny the edge of uncertainty that had crept into the back of her mind.