Around this time of year, the last rays of glorious golden sunlight always shine through the same windows of the library, and I always end up sitting near one of them. Spring is almost here, and when it’s time, I want to be there to see it. I’m still full from dinner, and as I watch the specks of dust from these ancient books dance in the ray of light, I can feel my eyelids drooping. My stack of Transfiguration books is just tall enough for me to rest my head on it comfortably. Really, it’s too good to be a coincidence. Fate must be telling me to just take this nap. What good would it do for me to work while I’m tired and stuffed? I’d be unable to focus and wouldn’t remember a thing anyway.
Just a short nap, just to enjoy the warmth of this sunlight. I’ll wake up in no time, and then I’ll study through the night. At least until some point late at night -- everybody needs to sleep for a couple of hours. I’ll definitely take some books down to the Den, and then we’ll see.
My thoughts are slowing down, and I can feel myself drifting off as the sun warms my cheek. The library isn’t such a bad place really.
It’s like I’ve only just put my head down on the stack of books when something pointy hits my ear. I shoot up with a yelp, drawing a murderous look from Madam Pince, and knock my inkwell over with my elbow, spilling its contents all over my sparse notes.
–Oh, fantastic,†I mumble as I try to keep the damage in check, but am unable to find my wand.
–Boot, Blue,†a voice behind me says. Charlie Weasley walks around the table and takes a seat opposite me, grinning broadly.
My hands are covered in ink, and everything I have worked on this evening -- little though it was -- is lost. –What?†I know I sound irritated. That’s because I am.
He puts his feet on the table and tilts his chair backwards. If Madam Pince sees him, he’ll be lucky if he can sit again in a week. There’s a rumour she’s started using Stinging Hexes. –Your wand is in your boot,†Charlie replies, still grinning. –And your hair’s blue.â€
–Well that’s -- ugh.†I feel down my leg and realise that he’s right. I do my best to siphon only the fresh ink off the parchment, but it’s a sad attempt. When I’m done, only fragments of words remain, and they have no meaning at all. I crumple the paper up and toss it at Charlie before I drop down on my chair again with a sigh.
–I like it better than the green you had this morning,†he says. –It’s not nearly as... seaweedy.â€
–Thank you so much!†I try to roll my eyes at him, but I can’t help but smile a little.
–Hey, make it a bit longer,†Charlie says and leans forward.
–I’m not a zoo animal, you know,†I say, and this time I manage the perfect grimace. Instead of making my hair longer, I focus on giving it a honey shade of yellow for Hufflepuff.
At that, Charlie recoils in mock horror. –Is this supposed to be a threat?†Hufflepuff is playing Gryffindor next Saturday. It’s still hard to play against them with Charlie as Seeker, but I like to taunt him about their miserable Chasers anyway. It’s not that they’re bad individually, they just really don’t work as a team. And their Beaters are usually too busy blocking each other to really get to the Bludgers.
–I wouldn’t call it a threat,†I reply, blowing a strand of deep yellow hair from my eyes. –Maybe a warning.â€
–So should I watch out for rabid badgers in the shower?†he asks, and I instantly burst out laughing, because there are two fifth year Hufflepuffs who fancy him so much that they would happily hop into his shower any time of day.
Now, Madam Pince is not content with evil looks anymore and instead throws a –Shhh†my way. This is like a red warning light. I clasp my hand to my mouth and stifle the next wave of laughter.
–Anyway,†Charlie goes on in a whisper, –were you sleeping again?â€
–How did you know?†I whisper indignantly.
He points at my stack of books. –You drooled.â€
I throw him the grumpiest look I have in my reservoir. –It was just a short nap.†I notice now that the sun has almost vanished behind the mountains. –And still, that’s no reason to poke me in the ear, you know.â€
–What?†he asks and laughs. –I never poked you in the ear. Who do you think I am, Peeves? And you know it’s my job now to watch that you study your Transfiguration theory, that’s our deal.â€
–I did plenty before I spilt that ink,†I grumble and point at the ball of paper that’s still lying on Charlie’s lap. He takes it and throws it back at me, hitting me right on the forehead. I wish I could aim like that. It drops on my leg and then falls to the floor. When I bend down to pick it up -- I don’t want to be hexed for littering -- I see a paper airplane hovering next to one of the table’s legs. When I take it between two fingers, I notice that it’s very rigid, probably some sort of Charm. It comes to a damn sharp point.
–Bastards,†I hiss, and narrowly avoid hitting my head on the table on my way up.
I don’t really have to unfold the paper to know what’s on it. You get hit by a paper plane these days, it’s rarely some fourth year being obnoxious, and more likely ruthless advertising. And, indeed, there it is, black on yellowish white, in neat lettering:
Are your nights spent studying?
Are you dreading wrathful Howlers every day?
There’s no need for you to disappoint your parents or miss out on your next Hogsmeade weekend. Get to the top of your year -- in your sleep! Guaranteed success!*
Ask the Dancing Trolls for Andrew.
no refunds.
–Well, that’s a new angle,†I say.
Charlie snatches the paper from me. –What is?â€
As he scans it, I throw a glance over my shoulder, but whoever threw the plane at me is long gone. Of course, this kind of thing is highly illegal, but that doesn’t matter. People sell useless stuff to other, more desperate people. It was bad in our fifth year, before OWLs, and it’s worse now. Some Ravenclaws landed in the hospital wing just before OWLs started, because they had taken some solution of decomposed doxy eggs that someone had sold them as a rare Athenian plant juice. They, and a boy from Slytherin completely missed their OWLs and had to resit them during the summer.
As long as I can remember, no one has ever got caught. If you don’t really have any morals, it must be a nice bit of money on the side, which a lot of people in their seventh year can well use.
–Let’s get out of here,†I say and gather up my stack of books. It has grown dark outside, and I won’t be able to focus in the library right now anyway. –Or did you come here to study?â€
–Nah,†Charlie says. –I was looking for Alexandra. We’ve moved our Quidditch practice tomorrow ahead an hour, and someone still has to tell her.†Alexandra is one of the Gryffindor Chasers, the only seventh year on the team apart from Charlie. –And she wasn’t at dinner, so I figured she might have come straight here. I’ll just tell one of the girls to keep an eye open for her.â€
I sign for the books with Madam Pince, who is so disgusted with my level of noisiness that she doesn’t even look at me.
–Two of these are on the Transfiguration Essentials list,†she says to the calendar on the wall. –You are not to keep them longer than three days.â€
Of course I know this, so I spin around and leave hurriedly. I hope that no one but Charlie has heard her. It’s a bit embarrassing really that I have to borrow these -- books on the Essentials lists are usually for OWL students. I just can’t wrap my head around this theoretical stuff.
–So,†I say as soon as the library door closes behind us. –New flyer, huh?â€
Charlie gives it another look before shoving it into his pocket. –I haven’t seen it before, though there was one earlier today about how you need two NEWTs to become a dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron now, and that Cathy’s Clairvoyance Charms can get you those two NEWTs and more.â€
–So, what, are you planning on using this?†I ask suspiciously.
Charlie gives me a blank look, then laughs. –No, I’m actually collecting them. You know, in case someone needs any kind of evidence. Why, you think I could use Andrew’s... whatever it is he’s selling?â€
–Nah, not if you show up for Potions in time tomorrow. Remember, we’re working in twos.â€
–How could I forget,†he replies. –I’m relying on you after all. What about you then? Are you... ‘dreading wrathful Howlers every day’?â€
–Of course I am,†I say, and roll my eyes at him as we both skip a trick step. –Especially from my dad. Like he cares how well I do... He actually sent me a letter last week, telling me to not stress out too much, and that all that matters is that I’m well and happy.â€
–Maybe he knows about all the stuff they’re selling around this time, and doesn’t want you to buy any,†Charlie suggests.
–Yeah, possibly. It was probably the same when our parents went to Hogwarts,†I reply. –My mum isn’t quite as relaxed -- she wants me to get a proper job and all, and knows I need good marks for that. But it’s nothing out of the ordinary. They wouldn’t throw me out even if I failed completely. Even though now my alternative strategy of washing dishes is somewhat thwarted, if Cathy says you need two NEWTs for that...â€
We both burst out laughing, and I almost fall down a flight of stairs as they start moving because I don’t grab the bannister fast enough. Charlie, still laughing, holds me by the neck of my robe and pulls me to my feet.
–Thanks,†I say, –no need to strangle me though.â€
–I’m sure if I worded that cleverly on a flyer, we could make lots of money. ‘Keeps all the blood where you need it -- in your head!’ ... Sounds reasonable, doesn’t it?†He kneels down to help me gather up my books.
I make my head go very red and my eyes protrude as far as I can. –You could put my picture on there, too,†I say.
–Oh, yes, I’m sure that would really rake in the Galleons,†he says and laughs.
–Hey!†I punch him on the arm. –So anyway, what’s your family like? Is the wrath of Mrs Weasley something you have to dread every day?â€
Charlie doesn’t even stop laughing. –You have no idea,†he finally says. –But she’ll be fine with a couple of NEWTs. I’m not going to live up to Bill’s results anyway, so the pressure is off there. And her wrath would be far worse if she found out that I’d been eating Bundimun Ooze or whatever this stuff is actually made of.â€
–She can’t be that bad though, right?†I ask.
Charlie looks at me quite seriously suddenly. –No, really,†he says, –you have no idea. If I took something that killed me, she’d invent a resurrection concoction just so that she could kill me again herself.â€
–Good thing we don’t need that kind of stuff anyway then, right?†I shift the weight of the books to my other arm.
We’ve reached the point where Charlie needs to head up several flights of stairs, and I’m going down to the Den. –Study well then,†Charlie says.
–Yeah,†I reply, –and you don’t be late for Potions tomorrow. You wouldn’t want to make Professor Snape angry again.†I turn my nose into a giant, hooked monstrosity, and throw him the darkest look I can muster.
–If I’m late, it’s because the nightmares you just gave me kept me up,†he says and prods my nose. –I’ll do my best though.â€
–I just hope your best is good enough then, Weasley!†Quickly, I change my nose back again. Professor Snape is not exactly a fan of mine, and I don’t want to imagine his reaction to this impersonation.
–Night, Tonks.†Charlie grins and waves as he disappears behind the tapestry that hides his staircase.
I somehow manage to get all my books down to the Hufflepuff Den without dropping one of them. Various paper planes seem to have made their way down here and are zooming around our common room, nudging people on their heads and arms. Someone seems to have gathered them up throughout the day and given them better flying enchantments. Actually, they look quite nice like this, and I don’t really care what it says inside. For about the millionth time in the past two years, I’m glad that I haven’t been made Prefect.
Some sixth years are sitting on the large sofa and armchairs, entertained by one of the particularly chatty plants that’s hanging from the ceiling. At one of the tables in the corner I spot Martha, one of the girls in my year. She’s got her nose as deep in a book as I should have mine and doesn’t even seem to be noticing the paper plane that keeps prodding her in the back of the head. The entrance to our dormitory is just a few feet to the right from her, so I decide to sit down briefly.
–Hey Martha,†I say carefully. She has dark circles under her eyes, and her lips are dry. –Still studying?â€
–Yeah,†she says, and looks up from the page to blink at me tiredly. –Are you joining me then?†She points at my books.
I really, really want to say no, that I’m going to sleep to be awake enough for Potions tomorrow, but looking at her large, tired eyes, the only words I can make my mouth produce are, –Yeah, sure, I’ll stay for a bit.†I’d feel guilty going to bed while Martha is out here studying Charms. She’s actually better at Charms than I am at theoretical Transfiguration, so if she’s studying, surely I should be. Also, this is the only way I can make sure that she goes to bed at some point.
At least I make it through about twenty pages of one of the Essential books before Martha’s head slams down on the desk and I can convince her to go to bed. The earthy smell of the tunnel that leads to our dormitory is warm and welcoming, and the moment I drop down on my bed, I fall asleep.