Chapter 133 - Post-Exam Dispute — The Conversation

Tuesday was Transfiguration, Wednesday Herbology, Thursday Defence Against the Dark Arts, Friday morning Ancient Runes, and Friday afternoon Muggle Studies.

The two practical examiners had already grown quite familiar with Praeris. Outstanding students always drew attention.

Her Transfiguration was excellent. She handled the Herbology plants like her own children. She demonstrated every counter-curse and defensive charm without a single flaw.

Ancient Runes was its own case, theory and practice were the same subject. Study runic translation, test runic translation. It only took up one morning.

On the day of the Ancient Runes exam, she had to remove the pendant Draco had given her. She couldn't risk being accused of cheating.

Which made it all the more ironic that she was tested on "Feoh." That word was one of the very characters on the pendant. In Ancient Runes, it meant "cattle", representing wealth and good fortune.

One full week of exams, and just like that, it was over. But the weekend gave the girls no room to breathe, because Monday's exam was Potions.

The examinees had all drifted into a rather absurd superstitious phase. Everyone was using every possible method to divine their results and guess what might be tested the following week.

Word was that Professor McGonagall, thoroughly exasperated with her students, had told the Gryffindors: "If you were even half as proactive in class as you are with your fortune-telling, you would have no reason to worry about passing — much less need to pin your hopes on empty, baseless divination."

Praeris had Care of Magical Creatures on Tuesday. The problem was that she had never truly interacted with most of the creatures on the syllabus. She would have to handle all of it on pure book knowledge alone.

"You get nervous too?" Millicent looked at her like she'd witnessed something rare.

Praeris hadn't expected that level of blind faith in her abilities. She had to explain. "If you'd only attended one real lesson and then had to go play Quidditch, you'd be just as nervous as I am."

Skill is a person's foundation. Without solid practical experience behind it, even someone as gifted and well-read as Praeris would feel uneasy.

The Tuesday practical took place in the clearing beside the Forbidden Forest. Praeris's first task was to retrieve a single leaf from a Bowtruckle-guarded tree and hand it to the examiner.

A wooden box sat beside the examiner, stocked with a variety of herbs and insects.

Bowtruckles are gentle by nature. But offend them, or the trees they guard, and they will leap down and gouge out the intruder's eyes.

There is a remedy for this. Gift a Bowtruckle a woodlouse, and it will be placated for quite some time, giving the wizard a window to take a leaf or twig from the tree without incident.

Woodlice are nocturnal. They fear light, prefer shade and damp, and spend their days buried in loose, moist soil.

It was afternoon. Praeris found several woodlice in a small patch of damp earth nearby.

She hated cockroaches. She hated flying cockroaches even more. England was at a high latitude, but it still had them, especially in places with poor sanitation.

The convent had excellent sanitation, maintained through the labor of many small girls.

But the convent regularly visited impoverished believers, and on one of those visits, they knocked on a door and several American cockroaches came flying straight at them. Young Praeris had never quite recovered from that.

Woodlice and cockroaches are close relatives. The legs are nearly identical. And male woodlice can fly.

She sorted through the ones she'd found until she located a wingless female. With trembling hands, she carefully pinched it and offered it to the Bowtruckle perched in the tree.

Fortunately, woodlice play dead when touched. They don't move.

Praeris held her breath. She transferred the female woodlouse to the Bowtruckle as quickly as she could and let it become genuinely dead.

Once the Bowtruckle settled in and began enjoying its meal, she snatched a whole leaf from the tree and handed it to the examiner.

The moment the woodlouse left her fingers, she exhaled like a pressure valve releasing. She had deep thoughts about why the Blattidae and Corydiidae families, really, all Blattodea insects, had any business existing in this world.

The second test was finding a single Doxy among a cage full of Pixies. Doxies were darker in color and weaker fliers, but without careful attention, the two were easily mistaken for each other.

The third was to tie the legs of a Streeler. Streelers bit swimmers' feet and gnawed at their clothes; Merpeople considered them a menace.

The last was to feed a Porlock. Porlocks are shy creatures that exist to guard horses. They fear humans. Feeding one requires patience and courtesy in equal measure.

Praeris had maxed out her theoretical knowledge. She ran on theory, instinct, and quick reflexes. By the end of all four tests, she was completely wrung out.

"My test was telling a hedgehog apart from a Knarl," Millicent said with a miserable expression. "I got pricked by the Knarl, so I suppose that counts as finding it."

"Are you sure it wasn't the hedgehog that pricked you?" Daphne delivered the blow with casual precision.

"You wicked thing!" Millicent's eyes went wide. "I'm sure! Only Knarl spines carry magic! I got pricked — how could I not feel it!"

The other three burst out laughing.

Pansy turned to Praeris. "What about you? I was worried about you the whole time!"

Praeris had only attended one lesson. Asking her to overpower a magical creature probably wasn't the problem. Asking her to get along peacefully with one, Pansy had no confidence there at all.

Praeris gripped the pendant at her neck. "Theoretically," she said, "there were no major problems."

As for practically, she couldn't be sure every step had gone right.

The habits of magical creatures can't be fully captured in books. Behavior shifts with environment. There's always something a text leaves out.

That was why so many Magizoologists traveled the world, testing their knowledge in person, some even raising magical creatures themselves. The Ministry kept a close eye on such people, naturally, making sure none of them were keeping anything dangerous or prohibited.

Pansy gave her a small smile. "It's already over. Let it go! We still have Astronomy and Divination tomorrow!"

Wednesday morning was Astronomy theory, afternoon Divination, and evening the Astronomy practical. Thursday morning was Arithmancy, Thursday afternoon History of Magic.

Very few students took both Divination and Arithmancy. Most people had no exam on Thursday morning.

Only someone like Praeris, who had taken both, would be sitting for another exam while everyone else slept in.

Even a gifted person couldn't walk into a Divination exam with certainty. There was an element of linguistic artistry to it that no amount of talent could fully account for.

When Professor Marchbanks saw Praeris for the second time, she looked genuinely surprised.

Divination demanded spirituality and innate talent. Arithmancy demanded rigor and calculation. Students who chose one almost never considered the other.

Praeris gave her a polite smile. "Sorry to take up your time, Professor. I have a hunger for broader, more comprehensive knowledge."

Professor Marchbanks nodded. "Gifted witches and wizards always hold themselves to different standards."

Performing a second divination for Professor Marchbanks, Praeris's understanding of the woman deepened.

She likely had a long lifespan ahead of her. She pursued wisdom and revered it. She carried a deep sense of justice, the kind that would cost her something, and she bore that cost without regret.

Then Praeris remembered where she had heard the name before. Griselda Marchbanks. She had resigned from the Wizengamot in support of Dumbledore and been accused of involvement with goblin rebel factions.

This isn't cheating, Praeris told herself.

She had already made her peace with what she was. She could accept being different.

Only Voldemort and his servants would call it cheating that Harry could naturally resist his Dark Arts. Only they would resent Dumbledore's foresight and planning.

If Potter and Dumbledore had nothing to apologize for, then she could accept that she possessed certain clever talents, even if she felt she hadn't always used them as well as she could have.

Whatever else could be said, the past-facing portion of her divinations was, objectively, extraordinarily accurate.

The future was a different matter. Praeris made no claims there. Divination could never guarantee the future was right.

The Astronomy practical was Wednesday night. Some kind of disturbance broke out during the exam.

Praeris's seat was at the far end of the tower, away from the Gryffindor windows. She had no idea what was happening on that side. The Astronomy Tower felt like coming home; the exam went smoothly from start to finish.

Only afterward did she learn what had occurred. Umbridge had launched a nighttime ambush on Hagrid, intent on driving him away. Professor McGonagall had arrived in time, trying to defend Hagrid just as she had defended Professor Trelawney. In the scuffle, this most respectable of professors had been struck by a spell.

That night, Praeris couldn't sleep.

It was probably not the kind of thought a Slytherin was supposed to have. But she was worried about Professor McGonagall.

The woman was the Head of Slytherin's sworn rival house. And yet she had always given Praeris fair treatment.

In third year, Professor McGonagall had rushed to rescue Professor Snape in the middle of the night because of a dream Praeris had described to her. At Christmas, she had asked only a few brief questions before personally walking Praeris into the Headmaster's office.

Professor McGonagall had been Sylvia's professor too. And for Sylvia's wrongdoing, she had held Praeris and done her best to offer comfort.

The next morning, before the Arithmancy exam began, Praeris listened to herself and went to find Barron. She asked him, quietly, to keep an extra eye on Professor McGonagall.

The boy straightened up and patted his chest with full seriousness. "Of course, Miss Prince. It's my duty."

Months of practical work had changed him. The shyness was gone. His eyes carried something brighter now, anticipation for the future, a quiet pride in the path he'd chosen.

"I believe you'll become a fine Healer." Watching him, Praeris felt something warm. This boy's growth had a little of her in it too.

The final exam was History of Magic, purely theoretical, and it cost her almost no effort at all.

When it was done, Pansy stood in the corridor with a slightly bewildered look. "I thought I'd be excited. But I feel completely calm."

It felt exactly like any other end-of-year exam. Not a single thing different.

"Because it is just an ordinary exam," Praeris said. "Stretch the timeline to an entire lifetime, and this is no different from any other test you've ever sat."

She had barely finished speaking when Millicent came charging out of the exam hall like a bull, bellowing at them from across the corridor: "I'm so happy! It's finally over! I want to eat a whole sheep! I want a huge bag of Fizzing Whizbees! A whole bag of chocolates!"

She promptly ran off.

Pansy and Praeris stared at the space she'd left behind. Praeris swallowed. "I'd say there are, in fact, some differences between people. Do you believe me?"

Pansy burst out laughing. "Come on. Let's get back to the dormitory and intercept Millicent before she eats herself into a stomachache."

They had barely taken two steps when Praeris stopped.

"Pansy. I need to use the bathroom."

"It's not time to update Myrtle about the new toilet situation, is it?" Pansy gave her a sideways look, then smiled. "I'm joking. Go. I'll head back to the common room on my own."

Praeris waved at her and walked away quickly.

She pushed into Myrtle's bathroom at a near-run.

Myrtle spotted her immediately and shot across the room, wailing. "Prai-Prai — Barron said Professor McGonagall has been sent to St. Mungo's!"

"How can that be!" Praeris was already digging through her pocket for the two-way mirror. "Is she badly hurt?"

"Four Stunners!" Myrtle's tears went everywhere. "That toad is just too cruel!"

"I know. But I have something urgent right now!" Praeris's brow pulled tight. "Please — watch the door."

She tapped the two-way mirror with her wand.

The thing had been flashing in her pocket for a while. She'd been afraid Pansy would notice.

"Hermione —" She didn't get to finish.

The other side of the mirror was in complete chaos.

Potter, Weasley, and Hermione were all there, every one of them red in the face.

"Praeris!" Hermione's voice was urgent. "You understand Legilimency and Occlumency better than any of us. I had no choice but to come to you. Harry says he's seen You-Know-Who, that he's going to kill Sirius!"

Weasley, who had only just found out who Praeris was, looked like he had a great deal he wanted to say. He swallowed all of it. His eyes held something else entirely, a desperate, pleading hope, as though she might be able to do something he couldn't name.

What, exactly, did he want from her? She couldn't work it out.

"Potter." Praeris clicked her tongue. "I'm starting to wonder if I ever taught you Occlumency at all. Did I not say, when you sense an intrusion, you expel the intruder. That is the point."

Harry spoke through his teeth. "Are you here to lecture me? To pull rank and prove how terrible my Occlumency is?"

"If that's what you want to believe, then Hermione coming to me is a waste of everyone's time." Praeris's voice was flat. "Tell me the truth. When you sensed Voldemort's presence, you didn't block him. You let him in. You reached into his thoughts on purpose."

"Yes! I didn't!" Harry said, voice tight. "But Voldemort is trying to break into that room in the Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore has people stationed there to guard it. If he can get inside my head, why can't I get inside his?"

➤ Next: The Mask