OWLs

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Barnaby awoke on the morning of his first exam feeling like he hadn't slept at all. Penny had noticed him barely containing a meltdown the night before and had given him a calming draught to help him sleep, but his dreams had made him more anxious than staying up would have done. 

Despite his upset stomach, he ate a large breakfast, his taste buds deadly aware that his meals in the great hall were probably numbered. After their last study session, Barnaby asked Rowan for her honest opinion on how well he'd do the next week. 

"Honestly?" she said. "I've no doubt you'll get most of your OWLs. I'm so proud of how far you've come, Barnaby. And you should be, too. No matter what happens."

Barnaby nodded. "What about the hard ones?"

"For Transfiguration, I'd say you've got about an 80% chance. Potions is 50/50."

He nodded again. "Thank you, Rowan. For everything." He gave her a tight hug. After recovering from her shock, he felt her hug him back. 

"That's what friends are for."

Potions was their first exam. Barnaby supposed it would be nice to get that one of the way, but he felt like he had taken a short cut to his impending doom. 

After breakfast, he and the rest of the fifth years headed down to the dungeons. No one spoke much. Sarah grabbed his hand, which surprised him as she didn't like to give physical affection in public. 

"Don't worry," she whispered. "It'll be just fine, I promise."

They took seats in the familiar, gloomy dungeon. Barnaby was glad that an official from the ministry would be proctoring the exam rather than Snape. It was difficult to concentrate on ingredient amounts when that black bat leaned over his cauldron with a sneer, jumping at the chance to call him an idiot whenever he messed up.  

It was strange being in potions with the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs as well as the Gryffindors. Extra tables had been conjured to accomodate everyone. Barnaby sat at a table in between Sarah and Rowan, with along with Chiara, Jae, Tonks, Tulip, and Badeea. 

"What are you doing?" asked Sarah, noting his severe scowl. 

"Channeling Professor Snape."

She chuckled, along with Chiara and Badeea. 

Badeea caught his eye. "Are you ready?"

"I don't think I'm a genius yet," he told her, remembering the conversation by the lake. 

"Good. True geniuses never think they've reached their target."

Professor Tofty, a kind looking wizard with balding, gray hair, called for silence and passed out the exam papers. Barnaby picked up his quill. 

"You time begins now."

He was the last to finish his exam, but he managed to circle the last question just before Professor Tofty called time. Before Rowan had given him test-taking tips, and taught him how to read the bigger words, he'd never finished an exam in the time limit. He'd felt at least familiar with most of the questions, and most of them had been multiple choice, so he hoped he managed to get a decent amount correct. But to get an O, he'd have had to answer at least 80 questions correctly. 

He couldn't dwell on that harrowing fact for long, because Professor Tofty waved his wand and cauldrons appeared before each of them.

"For the practical exam, you've each been given a different potion to prepare. No textbooks, of course. Your time begins...now."

Barnaby was tasked with making a befuddlement draught. Rowan had taught him a song to remember potion ingredients. 

The befuddlement draught makes you crass, because you add in scurvy grass. This red potion will make you rage, because you add in a bit of lovage. Don't you forget to add the sneezewort, or this concoction will come up short. 

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