How to Pass

The Halloween food Aya had packed soothed the five wounded hearts.

She had originally planned to charge the Weasley Brothers for it, but they gave her a handful of their newly made sweets. Aya tried one and gave them a large plate of food in return.

"We also ran into Moaning Myrtle," Hermione said over her Pumpkin Juice, while Aya cracked pumpkin seeds and listened. "You know, the Myrtle who's always hiding in the bathroom. She's always getting toilet water everywhere. I've run into her several times."

"Good thing she only makes a mess of the girls' toilets," Ron said, shuddering as he recalled Myrtle's shrill sobbing the night before.

"Ha," Fred gave a short laugh and exchanged a look with George. "When it comes to boys, toilets aren't the places she targets."

"When you're in a higher year, you might get a chance to see her in the boys' bathroom," George said with a grin, hooking an arm around Ron's neck.

"Huh?" Harry looked up in shock.

"She can do that?" Aya asked delightedly.

"No, she can't!" Hermione slammed down her Pumpkin Juice. "Aya, that's, that's wrong! Why hasn't anyone driven Myrtle away?"

"She's a ghost, Miss Granger. You can't drive her away or trap her," Fred said, shaking his head.

"A ghost?" Aya remembered the feeling of drifting through the air the last time the Basilisk killed her, but she hadn't seen her own ghostly body then.

"You're not allowed to do anything that immoral!" Hermione threatened Aya with her fork raised. She was genuinely worried that her friend would end up in Azkaban after graduation.

Aya pouted. As long as she didn't respond, she hadn't agreed.

The weather turned cold all at once after Halloween. Aya still hadn't found any information about the Basilisk, and their homework had suddenly increased.

Who could understand the devastating effect a three-foot History of Magic essay had on an illiterate cat?

Aya chewed on her quill. Its feathers had long since become pitted and sparse, but it still wouldn't start writing by itself.

She really had to ask if there was a spell that would make a quill jump up and do her homework on its own. Her handwriting was three times the size of Hermione's, and she still couldn't pad out the essay to the required length. Hermione, meanwhile, had written four feet and seven inches.

Besides that, there was Lockhart's homework. Most of it consisted of essays on his novels, and Aya couldn't even get through the books, yet he expected her to write about them. The homework she finally handed in was covered in crooked writing and marks where water had made the ink run.

Strangely, Lockhart gave her extra points for the water stains.

Aya fell silent. Aya told Ron and Harry the news, and they immediately began sprinkling water on their own homework. Then Harry ruined an essay by doing it wrong.

But aside from all that, there was good news. Almost all the professors knew about the second-year student who was suspected of getting dizzy at the sight of words, so although Aya usually padded her homework with fluff, most of them were fairly tolerant. They had simply raised their expectations for her practical work.

Fortunately, Aya had lived in a place with plenty of fighting before, so her spells had always been fairly powerful, and most of her practical marks were excellent-except in Potions. She had never made her own blue or red potions before, buying them all from the auction house instead, so the only thing she had going for her in Potions Class was her financial relationship with the professor.

Although Snape could be rather unpleasant when he spoke, Aya never paid it any mind. To get a passing mark in Potions, she had even given him a gift!

She had worked so hard for just a passing mark. That wasn't asking too much, was it?

She had heard players say that their old schoolteachers had tried every possible way to pull their students through.

Aya looked through the materials in her bag. After all this time, her inventory was almost entirely occupied by beautiful, unusual materials of purple grade or higher. She had sold all the lower-grade ones, but a high-level Potions Master like Snape wouldn't even look at low-grade materials offered as a bribe.

"Are you planning to visit Snape's office again?" Ron asked enviously as valuable-looking materials kept appearing in Aya's hands. "Where did you get all this stuff?"

"I got it wandering around at night," Aya replied absently. She couldn't bear to part with this one or that one; this one was so pretty, and so was that one. These were all treasures she had picked out to keep!

"The Forbidden Forest?" Harry guessed. It was the only place he could think of. Surely Aya hadn't stolen from Snape's storeroom just to sell the things back to him? That wouldn't just be stupid; it would be asking for death.

"It could only be the Forbidden Forest, right? Xiaohua went there with Fred and George before, so it must have shown you the way." Ron was envious. Unfortunately, apart from what was in his textbooks, he hadn't read up on anything else. Even if he wanted to go to the Forbidden Forest to earn some extra money, he wouldn't know what anything was worth.

That gave Aya a new idea. "Good point." Now that she had finished exploring the castle, she could go to the Forbidden Forest! At the end of last term, Harry and Ron had both been there, though Hermione hadn't, so Aya couldn't fall behind. But that would have to wait until she had less homework.

"What's a good point?" Hermione walked over carrying a stack of books. The others looked over and saw names of spells for defence against Dark Magic written on the covers.

"Nothing," Harry said. He didn't want to listen to Hermione lecture them about not wandering around at night while he did his homework. "Why are you reading those?"

"Have you finally realized Lockhart's no good?" Ron guessed. Ever since the first lesson, Lockhart had spent his classes reading them storybooks, and when he got to an exciting part, he would have someone act it out.

As Aya put it, Lockhart was so thoughtful, giving her bedtime stories especially for her.

Hermione looked displeased. She huffed and dropped the books heavily on the table. "To keep up with Professor Lockhart, I have to learn the spells in his books."

"If he could teach them, he would've taught them in class instead of teaching us acting techniques," Harry muttered. He had suffered the most in Lockhart's acting class-only last lesson, Lockhart had shown him how a Werewolf should howl in front of everyone—and he had been fed up with it for a long time.

Hermione still viewed Lockhart through rose-colored glasses. She firmly believed that someone who could write so many wonderful stories couldn't be an incompetent fool, so she stubbornly continued teaching herself in her own way. She even dragged Aya, who had slept through almost every Dark Magic Defence Class, into her study sessions.

Aya was quite interested in actual combat. When Hermione saw that she never fell asleep during "Hermione's little classroom," she even felt gratified-Aya might not give the professor that courtesy, but she gave it to her. Didn't that make her a good friend?

Of course, although Hermione viewed Lockhart through rose-colored glasses, she didn't really agree with his teaching methods. The one thing that had pleasantly surprised her was how approachable Professor Lockhart was. He had praised her, saying she was the best student in their year, and when she had tentatively produced a borrowing slip for the Restricted Section, he had signed it without hesitation.

For that alone, she would absolutely support Lockhart!

At the thought, Hermione awkwardly steadied the stack of books she had just put down. A book she had borrowed from the Restricted Section happened to be tucked among them. Although none of her three friends present knew enough to recognize it, this was her first time doing such a thing, and her guilty conscience wouldn't settle so quickly.

Not long after Halloween came the new term's Quidditch matches. Once again, the first match was Gryffindor against Slytherin.

Gryffindor had won the Quidditch House Cup the previous term, and this term a wealthy backer had bought Slytherin brand-new brooms. Slytherin's fighting spirit was higher than ever, and the two houses began trading insults several days in advance. Their tactics ranged from childish behavior like sticking out a leg to trip someone to rule-breaking acts like sneaking curses at one another.

Aya disdained the former and charged heroically into the latter.

Forgive her: school was simply too boring. Every day she went to class and did homework, and she even had to rack her brains—or not-to get passing marks. She was about to grow moldy, so when she saw an invitation to a faction battle, she was the first to jump out and fight, and rob people.

No, to take the spoils that belonged to her.

Aya swished her tail as she counted the sweets in her hands. The young master Malfoy always carried more sweets and green apples than anything else. Aya could eat green apples whenever she wanted, but Mrs. Malfoy's sweets could only be obtained through robbery.

And legitimate reasons for robbery were few and far between. Aya could hardly remember the last time she had eaten one.

"Thanks to the Quidditch team for their generous contribution, which gave me this opportunity," Aya said sincerely, holding her sweets.

"...I don't want to talk." Harry held the shoulder he had just bruised while brawling with Draco, his face expressionless.

"If I weren't afraid that Old Bat Snape would find out, I'd chase him down and punch him again!" Ron said angrily. "I'd like to make that pointed face of his round!"

"Even then, it probably wouldn't be as round as yours." Aya bobbed her head. She had gotten forty sweets this time, more than ever before. Was it because it was still early and Draco hadn't had time to eat them?

"That's because of my face shape!" Ron shouted.

Saturday's match soon arrived. Hermione woke Aya, and they went to breakfast together. Harry still looked very nervous, but when Aya yawned her way to the Gryffindor table, she found that the other team members were all nervous too.

"Should I just go steal their brooms?" Aya asked indistinctly, tugging hard at a baguette.

"Be good and go play somewhere else." Alicia patted Aya on the head, then turned back to join the other players in their worried discussion.

"There's no denying the Slytherin Quidditch Team has better brooms than we do," Wood said gravely, his fingers interlaced beneath his chin. "But I believe the people on our brooms are better than theirs. We've trained harder than they have, and we've flown in all kinds of conditions."

"Too right," George muttered. "Our clothes haven't been dry since we started training."

"We're going to beat them soundly and show them that even with the Malfoy family's money behind them, they can't possibly be invincible!" Wood grew excited and slammed his hand on the table. Aya jumped and lost her grip on her egg, which fell onto the table with a smack and rolled away. "It's up to you, Harry! You have to show them that for a good Seeker, having your father buy new brooms for everyone else on the team isn't enough!"

Aya reached for the round egg, and Fred rolled it back to her. Wood's voice remained loud. "Either catch the Golden Snitch before Malfoy does, or die on the pitch! Harry, we have to win!"

Fred winked at Harry. "So no pressure, Harry."

"That sounds like some kind of serious prophecy," Aya muttered, slowly peeling the egg that had just been rolled back to her.

"Spit, spit, spit. Don't say such unlucky things. There's still a referee on the pitch, and if nothing else, there are professors in the stands," Ron quickly said. "Don't be nervous, Harry. Their brooms might be good, but it's Malfoy's first match. You definitely have the advantage!"

Hermione quickly snatched the egg from Aya's hands, peeled it in no time and stuffed it into her mouth to keep her quiet. Then she said to Harry, "All right, relax. Your job now is to eat a few more bites. You're always too nervous to eat much before a match, and you need to make sure you have enough energy to play."

Harry still wasn't very interested in eating. He managed a strained smile, then saw Aya beside him raise a baguette and start to look his way.

Harry immediately picked up a sausage and stuffed it into his mouth.

The weather wasn't on their side that day, though. As Aya walked to the pitch, she could hear faint rumbles of thunder in the sky. The air was hot and humid too, just the kind of weather she hated most.

She, Ron and Hermione hurried to the changing rooms to cheer Harry on, then rushed off. They needed to find a conspicuous spot with a good view of the match. They had made a cheering banner with their other friends that day and needed to hold it high enough to be seen.

When the three arrived, Neville, Seamus, Dean, Lavender and Parvati were already waiting. The banner had been raised on long poles, its fiery red color fluttering against the gloomy sky. The stands buzzed with voices; as this was the first match of the new term, almost every student had come.

The whistle soon blew, and the fourteen players quickly rose into the air. Red was easier to spot than green against the gray sky. Aya kept turning her head to follow the red dots and soon spotted Harry.

"Why is Malfoy buzzing around Harry like a fly?" Aya turned to ask Ron. "Slytherin's last Seeker wasn't so, so, joined at the hip with him, was he?"

"'Joined at the hip' isn't used like that," Hermione said helplessly, holding her binoculars. "He probably wants to show off. With his personality, he just likes jumping around in front of people."

"Agreed. I swear he's definitely not sticking to Harry because he's seen the Golden Snitch." Ron tossed a gummy into his mouth and shook his head. He had already deleted the word "bet" from his dictionary.

"All right, then—that Bludger is joined at the hip with Harry." Aya nodded and obediently changed what she had said.

"That's not how you use it either. Besides, how can a Bludger be 'joined at the hip' with someone?" Hermione said.

"That one, the black one. It keeps flying at Harry. Fred and George have hit it several times already. I think that ball has fallen in love with Harry." Aya's eyesight was much better than that of these pure humans who needed binoculars. She even pointed at the ball as it streaked through the air, leaving afterimages.

Hermione quickly picked up her binoculars again and looked carefully, only to discover in despair that it really was happening.

The first person she looked at was Snape in the professors' stands.