It was still relatively early, not even approaching ten o’clock, and so all of the fifth years were still down in the common room celebrating the end of their OWL examinations. Even Hermione looked relieved, slouched on the sofa leaning against Ron’s arm, a bottle of butterbeer resting in her lap. Harry didn’t miss the way that Ron glanced down at her, his expression a mixture of fondness and fear; it appeared that Ron’s revelation about his feelings for her had been sped up by Harry’s consistent absence form their little group.