"You and him are..." A couple?
Although Percy was dying to know the answer, he had no standing to ask.
The Ravenclaw dormitory was in the furthest tower, yet Percy thought it was still far too close.
So close that before he was even ready, they had arrived. "Thank you, Prefect Weasley. I'm here."
Whenever she was still unfamiliar with the route, Percy would often run into her and walk her to her destination.
Yet the two of them were usually quiet, exchanging barely any words at all.
Percy had been genuinely happy when he received the gift, even though all the Weasleys received the same thing.
He had still gotten a greeting card that read: "To Prefect Percy Ignatius Weasley, Merry Christmas."
It was handwritten, and the deep blue ink still retained its faint fragrance.
The handwriting was lovely, too, just like her.
"You're welcome. As long as you like it."
"Okay."
Today they had spoken four sentences—two more than usual—and Percy was overjoyed.
"Merry—Christmas—I like it—so much—"
"Okay—"
"What do you mean, 'okay'? Percy, you're hopeless."
"Hopeless—"
"If you like her, make a move! You walk together every day, yet you only ever say such bland, meaningless things."
"Shy Percy—"
The back of Percy's neck, hidden beneath his collar, burned with embarrassment as he walked away with a straight face. Sometimes he truly hated his brothers.
Right now, especially.
With final exams approaching, the young wizards' anxiety grew increasingly palpable. Potions class terrified them the most; Professor Snape was notoriously harsh with grading.
Word had it that last year he had handed out over twenty Ps, and a dozen Ts and Ds.
During recent Potions classes, the students walked on eggshells, terrified of provoking Professor Snape's venomous tongue and receiving a malicious T on their finals.
Yet the more nervous they were, the easier it was to make mistakes. "Mr. Potter, I assume you failed to bring your rusted, dull brain with you today."
"Miss Granger, exactly how many times is that you have spoken out of turn without permission?"
"Mr. Longbottom, has your hand been struck by a troll's club that it shakes so incessantly?"
"Bang!"
"If you unleash your pathetic talent for explosions one more time, you can forget about passing your final exam, Mr. Finnigan."
Potions class was usually rather chaotic, especially whenever the Gryffindors were present.
Snape was exhausted, so he had hired a diligent child laborer.
Ten Galleons per hour.
"Miss Quinlan, begin your work for today." Snape's office was in the dungeons, as gloomy as his entire persona.
Quinlan was frequently summoned here to sort ingredients—for free. She didn't even have to wash cauldrons; Draco came to do that.
Later, she picked up a grading job that paid handsomely. It started at one Galleon for grading only first-year assignments.
Now she graded papers for the entire year, so her pay had gone up.
First-year papers weren't difficult to grade; following Professor Snape's standards, eighty percent of them received an A or lower.
Upper-year papers were a bit tougher, occasionally featuring novel ideas that she needed to test and verify properly.
"Doxxy mushroom cap x1, sprig of knotgrass x1, troll snot x1. On the third and a half stir, adding 3g of bay leaf powder extends invisibility..."
"Professor, look at me."
Snape looked up from a stack of potion books to see Quinlan, visible only on her left side.
"What are you doing? Is this a circus act?"
"Upper-year students said adding bay leaf powder to the Invisibility Potion extends the invisibility duration. I brewed a batch to test it."
This wasn't Vespera's first time pulling a stunt like this, and Snape felt she was truly incomprehensible at times. Clearly, she possessed a thorough grasp of theoretical knowledge, yet she insisted on drinking flawed potions.
From his initial rage down to his current calm, nobody knew what he had been through.
"Ah!" Draco had arrived to wash the cauldrons. "A ghost!" He fainted.
With great foresight, Snape conjured a pillow right where Draco fell, executing the maneuver with practiced ease.
After finishing the grading, Vespera returned to her normal appearance. Draco stayed out cold and fell fast asleep, and Snape carried him back to his dormitory.
On her way back to her own dorm, she heard a very faint reprimand. "Merlin's saggy Y-fronts, Ron, you stepped on my foot again!"
Familiar, indeed. Sure enough, turning her head, she spotted two floating lengths of arm holding up a lantern.
Sometimes, Vespera wondered if the three of them thought everyone else was an idiot.
"Hermione, Ron, Harry. You really ought to pull your arms back in. You're standing out rather obviously."
"Vespera! How did you know it was the three of us?" The three of them pulled back their cloaks, their faces beaming with delight.
If Vespera joined them, their odds of success would skyrocket.
"Wear that, but you'd really better stay quiet and keep your arms tucked in. My ears and eyes are working just fine." She offered a polite, practiced smile.
The three opposite her exchanged sheepish grins. Heh-heh.
"We're going to guard the Philosopher's Stone. Professor Quirrell is making his move tonight," Harry said seriously.
"You're certain it's him?"
"Yes. To figure out why he tried to kill me during the Quidditch match, I used the cloak to follow him."
Harry's eyes were wide, his face still bearing an expression of deep disgust. "Do you know what's under that turban of his? A faceless man with no nose!"
"He calls that face his master, and promised to bring him more unicorn blood to drink. Ugh—"
It seemed he had recalled some rather unpleasant imagery.
"What about Headmaster Dumbledore? Did you tell him?"
"He's completely unreliable. How could he not be at the school during such a crucial moment?" Ron said indignantly.
Hermione added that Headmaster Dumbledore had gone to London, and Vespera grew thoughtful at this.
"Vespera, come with us. With you along, we'll definitely have a better chance of getting the Philosopher's Stone."
"I'm not important. You lot need to run fast now. If Headmaster Dumbledore is already away from the school, Professor Quirrell should be succeeding any minute."
Hearing this, the Gryffindor first-year heroes bolted toward the chamber of the Philosopher's Stone.
Seeing them dash off completely unprepared, Vespera changed her original plan of seeking out Professor Flitwick and strolled leisurely behind them.
On the stage Headmaster Dumbledore had set up, nobody would notice one more insignificant extra.
Since he wanted to use Harry and the others as mantises, she didn't mind playing the oriole to join in the fun.
The obstacles could be described as smooth sailing; every single challenge seemed tailor-made specifically for the three of them.
The three-headed dog that fell asleep to music, the light-fearing Devil's Snare, the flying keys that required a broom to catch, the wizard's chess, and finally, the Mirror of Erised.
Ron and Hermione stopped short at the wizard's chess.
After trading blows with Quirrell a few times, Harry emerged victorious as Quirrell dissolved into ashes and Harry collapsed from exhaustion.
Vespera easily retrieved the Philosopher's Stone from the right pocket of Harry's trousers. There was nothing special about it; it looked just like an ordinary three-dimensional diamond-shaped stone.
Hagrid carried Harry out of the burning cabin. By the time Hagrid arrived there, Vespera had already returned to her dormitory and gone to sleep.
The commotion caused by Harry and his friends was massive, and the Gryffindor students loudly touted the Boy Who Lived's heroic feats, basking in the reflected glory.
With final exams over, the students were about to leave the school, and the House Cup feast was the grand finale of the year.
Headmaster Dumbledore, having returned from London, would announce the scores of each house at the banquet, and the house with the highest score would claim the House Cup for this term.
"Gryffindor, three hundred and twelve points. Hufflepuff, three hundred and fifty points." Cheers erupted from the Hufflepuff table.
"Ravenclaw, four hundred and twenty-six points. Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two points."
Slytherin rejoiced.