Snape set down his quill.
Without even looking up, he drew a book from the shelf with his long fingers, turned to a certain page, and pushed it in front of Malfoy.
"Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, his voice as cold as the chill of the dungeons, "that intelligence you take such pride in has not been applied to your studies lately."
He tapped a passage with the tip of his quill.
"Copy this passage a hundred times. I believe it may help that brain of yours, stuffed full of flobberworms, recall a few basic facts."
Humiliation burned Malfoy's cheeks.
He suddenly remembered Moody's words-keep a straight face!
But a hundred times?! How was he supposed to keep a straight face about that?!!!
In the Library.
Hermione noticed something was off with Harry.
He was not reading at all, but muttering under his breath.
"Harry!" Hermione sounded impatient. "What exactly are you looking at? The exams are almost here!"
Harry jumped as though he had been caught stealing and snapped the map shut.
"Nothing!" His gaze darted away. "I'm... studying Hogwarts' defensive system. Yes, for an essay."
Hermione fell silent.
She looked at Harry, a sharp gleam flashing through her intelligent eyes.
He was lying again.
He had been acting strangely ever since their last operation failed.
What exactly had Professor Moody said to him?
Why was he keeping it secret from Ron and me?
This was so strange.
Hermione's heart sank.
Why would a normal "adviser" deliberately drive a wedge between us?
The night before the exams.
Lights blazed throughout Hogwarts.
The study rooms were already full.
Those who had failed to secure a place in a study room all crowded into the Common Rooms, a mass of last-minute crammers on the verge of collapse.
In the Gryffindor Common Room,