❝ mischief managed ❞
❝ with you it's the complete opposite ❞
Emerson Diors didn't always like the Weasley Twins. Their pranks were unbearable. Their attitude left much to be desired. But after their first and second year, they taught Emerson how to...
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It was the first day of the Ordinary Wizarding Level exams.
Emerson woke up in a panic. Through the night she had two very different, very startling dreams. In the first, she work up four hours late, being told that a first year had taken her Charms exam for her. In the second, Coralie was one of the exam facilitators, and spent the whole test period telling her not to fail.
In the mirror, bloodshot eyes stared back at Emerson. Saying she was nervous would be an understatement. What if she failed? What if she couldn't remember how to answer any of the questions or successfully cast a simple spell?
"Emery, your anxiety is giving me more anxiety," Angelina called from her corner of the room. "Stop."
"I can't help it," Emerson grumbled. She pulled her hair down into a knot and secured it with a pin. "I just keep thinking and dreaming about everything possible thing that can go wrong."
"Me too," Alicia said. "I had a dream that I used an Invisiquillity and immediately got a troll on written exam for potions."
"Alright, let's get down to breakfast before the first day of hell begins."
Most of the fifth years in the Great Hall were eating their breakfast over textbooks, eating toast while practicing the color changing charm on their cups. Even Fred and George were cramming in last minute studying.
Emerson sat down next to George and he immediately set down his charms book. "I am giving you one kiss and then that's it until today's exams are over."
"Sad, but i'll take it," Emerson accepted George's quick peck on the lips before pulling her own book from her bag.
The sound of someone clearing their throat made Emerson look up. Remus stood at the other side of the table, raising an eyebrow at George who was beginning to turn as red as his hair.
"Miss Diors," Remus' scowl like expression changed into a smile when he looked down at Emerson. "I wanted to wish you good luck on your exams."
"Thanks," Emerson smiled back. When Remus walked away, she turned to George. "He gave you the death stare."
"No, he gave him the dad stare," Fred piped in.
Emerson threw her toast at him.
Before they knew it, the fifth years were the only ones in the Great Hall, and the four long tables had been replaced by dozens and dozens of desks. They all took their seats, nothing but a quill on their desk.
