Late at night, the windows of the Gryffindor common room were still brightly lit. Harry Potter was sitting at the round table by the crackling fireplace, frantically catching up on his homework. He was growing a bit drowsy, stifling a yawn, and after rubbing his weary eyes, he raised both arms to stretch. Seizing the spare moment, he glanced sideways at the torrential rain pelting the window outside, muffled another yawn, and driven by the heavy load of schoolwork, picked up his quill once more.
Between being perpetually targeted by the toad that month and the relentless, grueling Quidditch practices rain or shine, Harry barely had any time left to finish the assignments given by the professors, leaving him no choice but to stay up late doing homework every night.
He glanced inadvertently at the back of his hand, where a faint scar remained from repeatedly copying lines with the Punishment Quill.
Chapter 939