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How do you face the last two hours before the most important exam you've ever taken?
This is my way:
Two Hours
Ripeness is all.
Edgar (V ii 11). King Lear
“That’s it. I’ve had enough.” Harry put down his quill, screwed the lit back on his ink bottle and proceeded to return everything to his bag.
“Harry? Harry!? What are you doing?” squeaked Hermione. “The NEWTs start in two hours, Harry. You can’t go now!”
Harry looked down at her patiently, her white, drawn face and the smudge of ink on her nose. “I’ll go mad if I sit here any longer trying to study. If I can’t do it now then two more hours won’t help me at all.”
“Oh thanks, Harry,” sighed Ron, and Harry turned to face his other friend whose face was resting firmly in his hands.
“We’re all different, Ron. It might help you, but it will just make me worse. I have to get out of here.”
“Harry, wait!” Hermione now looked really panicked. “What’s the third ingredient of Occulis Potion? Harry! I will never remember all of this!”
“You will,” he told her gently. “It’s dried lacewings. I think. You just have to trust that your head will get you through – your intelligence far surpasses mine, Hermione.”
“Why are you so damn calm?”
Ron grumbled something about knowing that they were damned and Hermione glared at him. “I’m not calm, Hermione,” Harry replied. “I feel incredibly sick. I have to get this out of my system and clear my head. Don’t worry; I won’t be late for the exam.”
He left the library and dumped his bag in the dormitory and, grabbing his Firebolt on the way out, went into the grounds. He kicked off and sped up into the bright, June sky. Exam weather, he thought. The best we’ve had all year. Typical.
He would have liked to think that his cares fell away as the ground did so, but there was still a knot in the pit of his stomach which wouldn’t untie. He looped around, exhilarating in the release of pent-up adrenalin, swooping out over the placid lake and brushing the top most leaves of the Forbidden Forest. Up here he was distanced ad the exams seemed more in perspective. All he could do was his best, nobody could ask him for more than that.
The knot was still in his stomach as he glided low across the grass and came to a stop on the shore of the lake. Even in ths golden sunshine there was only one other figure to be seen on the landscape and Harry crossed towards it, wondering who else had dared to leave the library. He almost backed away as the figire revealed iself into a set of grey eyes and a shock of blond hari, but then, Malfoy had to sit these exams too…
“Alright?” Harry asked as he approached.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow and his mouth twisted into a wry grin. “Not studying with the Mudblood?”
“No. And don’t call her that. She’ll thrash us both this afternoon. I just came to get away fro a bit. To remind myself that the sun will still come up tomorrow even if I make a complete balls-up of this exam.”
“Nice sentiment,” Malfoy commented dryly. “But we both know that more than grades rest on these results. It’s a matter of reputation. For both of us.”
Harry sighed. “They can’t ask us for more than our best,” he said, echoing his earlier thought.
“What if your best isn’t good enough?” Malfoy asked quietly. “Don’t you ever wonder that?”
“Far too often. You think I want to be the Saviour of the Wizarding World? I know what it feels like to be afraid of inadequacy.”
“I’m not inadequate,” Malfoy snapped.
“No, right. Just… nervous. Tense. It’s only natural to be apprehensive,” Harry said benevolently.
“I was thinking more in the region of shit-scared, but yeah.” For the first time since they had known each other, Malfoy turned to Harry and gave him a genuine smile of shared understanding. They might be on different sides on this struggle, Harry realised, but they had to face the same pressures.
“It’s twenty to one,” Harry said softly, not wanting to break this new-found alliance. “We’d better go get ready.”
“Yeah. I’ll see you in the Great Hall.” Malfoy started back up towards the school. “Oh, and Potter?” He turned back. “Best of luck!”
This is my way:
Two Hours
Ripeness is all.
Edgar (V ii 11). King Lear
“That’s it. I’ve had enough.” Harry put down his quill, screwed the lit back on his ink bottle and proceeded to return everything to his bag.
“Harry? Harry!? What are you doing?” squeaked Hermione. “The NEWTs start in two hours, Harry. You can’t go now!”
Harry looked down at her patiently, her white, drawn face and the smudge of ink on her nose. “I’ll go mad if I sit here any longer trying to study. If I can’t do it now then two more hours won’t help me at all.”
“Oh thanks, Harry,” sighed Ron, and Harry turned to face his other friend whose face was resting firmly in his hands.
“We’re all different, Ron. It might help you, but it will just make me worse. I have to get out of here.”
“Harry, wait!” Hermione now looked really panicked. “What’s the third ingredient of Occulis Potion? Harry! I will never remember all of this!”
“You will,” he told her gently. “It’s dried lacewings. I think. You just have to trust that your head will get you through – your intelligence far surpasses mine, Hermione.”
“Why are you so damn calm?”
Ron grumbled something about knowing that they were damned and Hermione glared at him. “I’m not calm, Hermione,” Harry replied. “I feel incredibly sick. I have to get this out of my system and clear my head. Don’t worry; I won’t be late for the exam.”
He left the library and dumped his bag in the dormitory and, grabbing his Firebolt on the way out, went into the grounds. He kicked off and sped up into the bright, June sky. Exam weather, he thought. The best we’ve had all year. Typical.
He would have liked to think that his cares fell away as the ground did so, but there was still a knot in the pit of his stomach which wouldn’t untie. He looped around, exhilarating in the release of pent-up adrenalin, swooping out over the placid lake and brushing the top most leaves of the Forbidden Forest. Up here he was distanced ad the exams seemed more in perspective. All he could do was his best, nobody could ask him for more than that.
The knot was still in his stomach as he glided low across the grass and came to a stop on the shore of the lake. Even in ths golden sunshine there was only one other figure to be seen on the landscape and Harry crossed towards it, wondering who else had dared to leave the library. He almost backed away as the figire revealed iself into a set of grey eyes and a shock of blond hari, but then, Malfoy had to sit these exams too…
“Alright?” Harry asked as he approached.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow and his mouth twisted into a wry grin. “Not studying with the Mudblood?”
“No. And don’t call her that. She’ll thrash us both this afternoon. I just came to get away fro a bit. To remind myself that the sun will still come up tomorrow even if I make a complete balls-up of this exam.”
“Nice sentiment,” Malfoy commented dryly. “But we both know that more than grades rest on these results. It’s a matter of reputation. For both of us.”
Harry sighed. “They can’t ask us for more than our best,” he said, echoing his earlier thought.
“What if your best isn’t good enough?” Malfoy asked quietly. “Don’t you ever wonder that?”
“Far too often. You think I want to be the Saviour of the Wizarding World? I know what it feels like to be afraid of inadequacy.”
“I’m not inadequate,” Malfoy snapped.
“No, right. Just… nervous. Tense. It’s only natural to be apprehensive,” Harry said benevolently.
“I was thinking more in the region of shit-scared, but yeah.” For the first time since they had known each other, Malfoy turned to Harry and gave him a genuine smile of shared understanding. They might be on different sides on this struggle, Harry realised, but they had to face the same pressures.
“It’s twenty to one,” Harry said softly, not wanting to break this new-found alliance. “We’d better go get ready.”
“Yeah. I’ll see you in the Great Hall.” Malfoy started back up towards the school. “Oh, and Potter?” He turned back. “Best of luck!”
