May 8th, 1945
A date has been set for our special graduation party. It will take place on June 11th. Professor Dippet gave us special permission to leave Hogwarts after the Head Boy and Girl (as in, Tom and I) give a speech to the school. Honestly, I'm really not looking forward to that.
Afterwards, we’ll walk to Hogsmeade to have our celebration!
---
“I can’t give a speech!” Miriam exclaimed into the semi-deserted common room. “This... this is just great. I have to worry about my NEWTs, my complete ineptitude in making the Blood-Replenishing Potion or the Calming Draught, and now... now I have to give a speech in front of the entire school!”
Marcella and Sophie looked at one another. “It’s tradition for the Head Boy and Girl to give a speech,” Sophie said.
“That isn’t making me feel any better,” Miriam grumbled, slumping down into a well-worn chair. “To make matters worse, I have to stand next to Tom, the bloody traitor. Damn tradition,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes and sighing. “What am I going to do?”
“Well, we can help you work on a speech,” Marcella said slowly.
Miriam's only response to this was a snort, a grumble, and mild cursing under her breath.
~*~
“Let’s see,” Sophie began, scribbling something down on some parchment. “Dear Class of 1945...”
“We can’t use that,” Miriam interjected, pacing behind Sophie’s chair. “It sounds too much like a personal letter.”
It was later that evening and the common room was finally cleared; it was the perfect time to begin Miriam’s impending speech.
“What about ‘Greetings Class of 1945?’” Marcella contributed.
Miriam scrunched up her face. They had been at it for a few hours, and the heading of the speech was the furthest they had managed to get in that amount of time. “It’s something, I guess. Leave it, and we’ll work on the body of the message.”
~*~
It was late into the night when they finally decided to call it quits. Lying back in her bed, Miriam sighed as she listened to the sounds of her friends falling asleep. How could writing one single, insignificant speech be so difficult?
May 13th, 1945
Though Dumbledore is back at school, he hasn’t come back to teaching yet. He still walks with an apparent limp, his nose appears to have been broken again, and his eyes haven’t regained their usual cheerful sparkle. There is an almost heaviness about him that seems so unlike the Dumbledore we used to know.
Our NEWTs are now only mere weeks away, and I haven’t progressed much in my potion making. I really hope I can get this right...
---
Every night she made a point to practice her potions. With exams coming up, she was becoming extremely agitated and worried she wouldn’t get it right. It was most fortunate that her other classes were coming along quite nicely. She had successfully perfected a complicated charm required for the NEWTs on top of some required transfiguration. Her charm work received praise from Professor Ambley. Still, she secretly worried that because she was failing to make the needed potions, she would be made to repeat the seventh year if she didn't receive enough points to graduate. On top of this, she still had a speech to write for graduation.
~*~
“You have to come out sometime,” Sophie said, watching as her friend buried her face further down in her pillow.
“Yudonhatgvespechinclas,” Miriam muttered.
“Pardon me?”
Miriam lifted her head. “I said, you don’t have to give a speech in front of the whole class! You don’t know what I’m going through....”
“What’s the worst that can happen?” Marcella asked.
“Oh, loads of things can go wrong! Especially since Tom's going to be next to me the entire time!”
“You don’t think he's stupid enough to pull some kind of stunt in front of the entire school, do you?” Sophie asked.
“I don't know him anymore. What's to say he wouldn't?”
June 1st, 1945
I finally came up with the perfect speech. You might say it came to me in a dream....
---
In between classes that day, Miriam’s perfect speech slowly found its way from her mind to paper. As she looked it over during dinner that evening, she couldn’t help but smile. It was, in her mind, absolutely perfect. Feeling relatively good about herself (though her potions still lacked completion and worried her deeply), she decided to take the night off from practicing it as she really needed the break to clear her mind.
Just as the Great Hall began to clear, the three friends left and headed into the entranceway where they began to climb the staircase, unbeknownst to them that somebody was following them. At the top of the stairs, Miriam stumbled as something grabbed her tightly by the wrist. Turning around, she saw Tom standing there, an evil grin spread across his face.
“Good luck on your Potion finals,” he announced with a slight sarcastic edge to his words. “I've personally seen how... atrocious... you are at making them. You’re going to need all the help you can get, dear sis.”
If looks were any kind of magical power, Tom would have dropped dead on the spot. Miriam’s hand twitched, because it wanted so badly to grab her wand and hex him within every inch of his life, but she refrained from doing so. Tom left, laughing a cold and unnaturally high-pitched laugh.
Miriam fumed all the way back to the common room. “I’ll show him!” she yelled, frightening a couple of first years passing by. Dragging her friends up to the girls’ dormitories, she made them coach her on the basics of potion making.
“You have to relax!” Sophie instructed, watching Miriam as she dug her fingers deeply into the palms of her hands.
“I’m trying to relax!” she exclaimed.
“Look,” Sophie replied, exasperated, “maybe you can turn this anger into something productive. Focus on how much you despise Tom and how wonderful it will be to make that little prat eat his words.”
Miriam closed her eyes. Tom’s face appeared in her mind, mocking her, laughing his cold, high laugh.... Her anger reached its boiling point. With his smirking face still emblazoned in her mind, she thought hard on what she needed to do to make her potions. Miriam scrunched up her face and focused all her energy on doing it right.
Grabbing her potions bag and cauldron, she carried them out of the girls' dormitories and hurried toward the Prefect's bathroom with her friends in tow. Thankful that it was vacant, Miriam began unloading her bag and feverishly adding drops of this and that to her small cauldron. Her first attempt was to try making the Calming Draught. Using a small wooden spoon to stir it, she dipped the spoon carefully around so she wouldn't spill any of her potion. After a moment, she lit the flame under the cauldron and waited for it to heat.
After a moment she stirred the potion and bottled a small amount of it. Once it was cooled enough for her to taste, she took a sip. Her anxious nerves relaxed but not to the fullest extent they could be.
“I’m never going to get this," she sighed. "They’re going to make me repeat seventh year."
“They can’t make you repeat a year for not making two potions correctly,” Marcella stated. “You’re top in all your other classes.”
“Yes, and for some reason, I simply can’t get this class right.”
“Try it again,” Sophie said patiently.
Reluctantly, Miriam waved her wand over the cauldron, clearing it of all its contents. “I can do this...,” she sighed. “I... can... do... this....” Pulling out more of her potions ingredients, she set forth to try making the Blood-Replenishing potion.
~*~
By the time Miriam began adding the final ingredients for the Blood-Replenishing potion, a small smile began to creep onto her face. Unlike her other failed attempts, which resulted in the potion smelling like dried blood, this recent one only had a faint odor.
“You're getting better." Sophie grinned as Miriam began to clear her cauldron. "With that effort, you could at least get a passing grade."
June 3rd, 1945
Right now we just finished the first part of our four-day long NEWTs. Today was Defense Against the Dark Arts, which included a written test and a practical afterwards. Maybe it’s just me, but it seems wrong to see Tom doing Defense Against the Dark Arts when he’s so heavily into actually using the Dark Arts. He's like a walking oxymoron...
---
“That was exhausting!” Sophie exclaimed as they left their Defense examination that evening. Not only had they taken an extremely long test that began around mid-afternoon, but then they had to perform different spells for blocking unwanted hexes. By the time they got out, it was nearing dinner and everyone was exceptionally hungry and a bit cranky.
“Tomorrow we have to do it all over again,” Miriam muttered, rubbing her head. She thought back to their practical portion and nearly made herself gag over it. The Ministry examiners were thoroughly impressed with Tom’s abilities, which infuriated Miriam beyond reason because if they really knew what he was capable of, they would have expelled him right on the spot.
“Miriam, you’re grinding your teeth,” came Sophie’s voice, snapping Miriam out of her thoughts.
June 8th, 1945
We’re finally at our last exam, Potions. I’m exceptionally anxious about this one as I hope to at least make a passing grade and - this will probably sound childish of me - but I want nothing more than to beat Tom in one lousy exam.
---
Though her other exams went exceptionally well (the examiners praising her for her abilities), she couldn’t help but feel nervous about this one. She and the other seventh years entered the classroom where there were desks lined with rolls of parchment and anti-cheating quills waiting for them.
After an exhausting two hours of the written test, which went over basically everything they learned in their seven years there, it was time for the practical exam.
The desks were cleared away and replaced by cauldrons in the room. One by one, the students walked up to the cauldrons and set out to make the Calming Draught first. Miriam opened her bag of ingredients and started, hoping and praying that she wouldn't some how screw the potion up.
~*~
Forty-five minutes later, Miriam had made a satisfactory Calming Draught and was working on finishing her Blood-Replenishing potion - which to her dismay still slightly reeked of dried blood. She silently hoped that it wasn't as detectable as she thought it was.
After bottling samples of her potions, she labeled them and gave them to the examiners. It didn't take them long to inspect the students' work, and when they got to Miriam's - which made her bite her lip in hopes to calm herself - they gave her high marks, but not full marks. They, much to Miriam's dismay, had noticed the slight smell of dried blood.
As with any other examiner Tom and Miriam had those past few days, the examiners were completely taken by Tom’s magical prowess and his charming behavior toward them. Whether he was showing off a bit or not, she didn’t know as he waved his wand dramatically around in the air, charming an examiner with a witty remark.
June 10th, 1945
Our results have been posted in the common room, and we all passed! I earned the highest marks of all the other seventh year Gryffindors; Sophie and Marcella were close behind. We're so excited about tomorrow. After our end-of-term feast, we'll be heading to Hogsmeade for our little celebration. All the other seventh years are ecstatic, and on a few occasions, they have slapped me on the back for coming up with the whole idea....
---
As there were no more classes left, the entire school spent the day outdoors, enjoying the sunny June day. Miriam, Sophie, and Marcella splashed their feet around the lake; the other students were here and there enjoying their freedom. Tom, who was back to speaking with Carrey and Murdoch, had a dead serious look on his face as he passed by the girls.
“After tomorrow, we’ll never come back here again." Miriam sighed morosely after a few silent minutes passed.
“Yeah,” agreed Marcella, “but look at this way: This is just the ending of one chapter and the beginning of another."
“How very philosophical of you." Sophie grinned. Marcella hit her softly.
Her friend was right... this was the beginning of something new. But no matter how much she tried to think positively, the nagging thought of Madam Westyn’s loomed in the back of her mind. She was only seventeen, still a minor in the Muggle world, and still under Westyn’s guardianship until she was eighteen. Her birthday wasn’t for another four months.... Another four months of pure hell....
Though it was a relatively hot day, Miriam felt a chill go down her spine.
June 11th, 1945
We're here in the Three Broomsticks right now, celebrating our recent graduation from Hogwarts. After awhile, I needed to get away from all the boisterous partying, to sit, relax, and collect my thoughts. Sophie and Marcella are still soaking up the experience, but I needed a bit of a break from it. From where I'm sitting, I can look out onto the scene clearly, and I can't help but laugh to myself as I watch Carrey (drunkenly) dance with a Slytherin girl. Oh, wait, what's this? Carrey just picked up the girl and is now spinning her around the room....
Sigh. He is living proof of what a dare of ten straight shots of firewhiskey can do to a person....
He is really going to have a hangover come morning....
---
The day of their graduation party was something everyone had been looking forward to for some time. It was a clear, but very hot afternoon, as most of the seventh years were busy getting ready for the night's party.
"I think I'll wear my hair up," Sophie commented, pulling up her reddish-blond hair into a bun.
"I might wear a ribbon in mine," Marcella imparted, looking at her curly black hair.
"I don't know what I'm going to do," Miriam sighed, looking at her reflection in a mirror in the girl's dormitories. She looked helplessly at her emerald green dress - which was still hanging up - and sighed. No matter what she did with her hair, it just wouldn’t cooperate. At least her friends looked exceptionally good; none of them had unattractive black hair that did absolutely nothing they desired.
~*~
It was over an hour later when the friends were finally finished with their hair and makeup. Miriam had finally settled on braiding her hair and wrapping it around her head.
“We look good,” Sophie commented, as the girls stood in front of a floor length mirror in the girl's dormitories, though they were still in their school robes and would be until after Miriam’s speech later that night. Marcella nodded, and Miriam gave a questionable smile.
~*~
“Would the Head Boy and Girl please follow me?” Dumbledore announced as the Great Hall began filling up with students. Miriam bade her friends good-bye as she departed, following Dumbledore. Tom left his Slytherin group and followed behind Miriam. Dumbledore lead them through to the other side of the Great Hall and up to where the teacher's sat. He motioned for them to stand next to him as Dippet stood up and made his way over to the podium to address the school.
Of all the places she could have been, standing next to Tom in front of the entire school was not high on her list. It could have been worse. She turned and looked in the opposite direction, not wanting to see the smug grin he wore on his face.
Dippet’s speech went on and on for what seemed like an eternity, talking about the events of the past year and whatnot. Miriam absolutely hated standing up there, all the eyes in the Hall either on Dippet, Tom, or her. It was rather embarrassing.... She could feel her face begin to flush....
~*~
“And it’s with a great honor,” Dippet concluded, finally ending his lengthy speech, “to introduce to you the Head Boy and Girl!” Applause sounded as they both started to make their way to where Dippet was.
“Ladies first,” Tom grinned derisively as he stood back to let Miriam pass by him. Giving him a scowl of deepest loathing, she took her place at the podium and pulled out the speech that she had folded neatly inside her robes. Unfolding it, she cleared her throat and commenced her speech.
~*~
When she finished, the students and teachers applauded. Leaving the podium, Tom passed by her, grinning malevolently at her. As Tom began his speech, Miriam couldn’t help but mentally roll her eyes at the absurdity and ridiculousness of it. He spoke of the evils of the Dark Arts and how it was the light of hope that saved the wizarding world from Grindelwald.
What a nasty little liar he is...
She was snapped out of her thoughts by tumultuous applause. They actually believed him! she thought incredulously. I can’t believe they brought that tripe.
“You gave a wonderful speech,” Dumbledore complimented. At first, she thought he was talking about Tom, but she looked up and saw him looking back at her.
“Uh, thanks,” she replied, feeling slightly better, but she was embarrassed all the same.
~*~
“Finally!” Sophie exclaimed as they and the other seventh years, treaded through Hogwarts’ massive front grounds to the gates where they would head to Hogsmeade and to the Three Broomsticks. Miriam smiled. After they had given their speech, the other seventh years were excused from the feast so they could change into their party clothes.
They quickly changed into their new dresses and then dashed out the large doors and into the dark night. “This is so exciting!” someone from the group exclaimed. There was a slight breeze to the night air, making it feel exceptionally good to be outdoors for the long walk they had ahead of them. Miriam smiled at her friends. “This is going to be great!”
Up ahead, they could make out the figures of Carrey, and Murdoch laughing boisterously, while Tom remained quiet next to them.
~*~
It was well after midnight when Miriam finally took a break from the celebration. There was a quiet part in the back of the Three Broomsticks where she went to take a bit of a breather. From where she sat, she could make out the scene perfectly. Sophie and Marcella were both dancing with some cute Ravenclaw boys, and Carrey... she couldn’t help but snicker evilly when she saw him. Not even an hour after first arriving, Tom and Murdoch challenged Carrey to drink ten shots of firewhisky. He obliged and was now very inebriated.
It wasn’t until well after 2AM when the party had finally started to die down. Marcella and Sophie had danced most of the time. They were quite sweaty, and their feet were painful. Miriam had danced a few times with a boy from Hufflepuff, but for the most part, she had stayed in the back, watching the festivities.