It turned out that in the end, Harry was not allowed to join the team. The Headmaster considered that it was not fair to let him play as a first-year while the other first-years could not. That was why the team captain, a sixth-year student, extracted a promise from Harry to participate in the try-outs the following year; he had already seen Harry fly and couldn't wait to have him on the team.
What perhaps amused the young boy most was the indignation of his friends, regardless of their House. In fact, it had been the Weasley twins, who were part of their House's Quidditch team, who were most outraged that he had not been allowed to join.
"I don't understand it," Terry said in a quiet area of the library where the whole group had gathered, including Draco Malfoy, who in the last few classes had developed a strange friendship with the rest of the group. "Wouldn't you have thought that he wouldn't want it to enter and therefore rejoice you?"
"Well, normally, yes…" Fred Weasley said indignantly. "But above all, we enjoy playing Quidditch, and after seeing him fly, what we wanted was to be able to play against him."
"Although I don't believe it myself," Malfoy affirmed. "Like the Weasleys, when you meet a player like Harry, you want to be able to play a match with or against him. The fact that you already had the idea that you could play, and then it turns out that they still don't allow it, makes you furious. I hope I can join the team next season to be able to play against you."
"It's not yet known if I'll join the team next year, of course," Harry murmured.
"Are you mad?" Athenea exclaimed, amazed. "They're already counting on you! How can you say that it's not certain?"
The truth was that even if he liked flying a lot, he was grateful not to be on the team. He needed that time to study and prepare for his classes; after all, he was doing three times as much work as the others. In addition, he also wanted to take full advantage of his room and be able to experiment with his magic.
Inside his room, he concentrated on two things: firstly, Potions. At those times, he was practising all kinds of potions, especially those that were outside the curriculum, in addition to trying to create his own potions and combinations. For now, he contented himself with making the recipes as they were indicated, and then, also in improving some of these recipes; he felt very proud to have managed to improve the 'Felix Felicis' potion, achieving that instead of twelve perfect hours of good luck, it lasted thirty-six… Quite an achievement. He also had the Wolfsbane Potion in mind; he wanted to be able to make it for his Uncle Remus, and actually, what he would like would be to improve it… if he were to achieve that in addition to preserving his human mind, he would not feel pain either… although it would be best if it managed to prevent the transformation entirely, but that was still too much to hope for.
Another thing that he was also focused on at those moments was meditation and relaxation. That was the best way to get to know oneself, especially understanding one's own power and magic. The boy knew that his power and knowledge were not average; according to many of his books, some of his powers were just a myth, or rather, it was rumoured that no one had possessed them in quite a few centuries… it was for that reason that he could not trust any of his elders to help him control them, and he could only trust Remus with respect to his knowledge. Whichever way he looked at it, the fact was that he had to manage alone. In addition, the fact that his regular studies already baffled her Professors made it seem that it was not the best idea to reveal his true capabilities.
The term was progressing slowly, but steadily, and when Harry next truly took notice, it was already early December. It was easy to see how the cold had seized the castle; the vast majority of students on more than one occasion refused to go out into the grounds during break times, and during Potions classes, they used to gather around the fires that fed their cauldrons. The common room fireplaces were lit, and a large part of the students used to spend their free time there.
In addition, the castle was slowly filling with an increasingly festive atmosphere. As December advanced, one could see more and more ornaments appearing. Hagrid, the gamekeeper, had cut down several trees to decorate the Great Hall; Professor Flitwick had spent a large part of the weekends decorating various parts of the school with different charms. Harry himself had decorated his own room to enter into the Christmassy spirit.
The downside of the approaching dates had been the fact that the exams, or at least for Harry, were coming. His Head of House had approached him earlier in the month to inform him.
"Mr Potter… wait a minute. I'd like to talk with you."
"I'll wait for you in the common room," Jonathan murmured.
Harry waited for the rest of his classmates to leave the greenhouse, and then for their Professor to finish attending to one of the plants that the rest of his classmates had been studying that day.
"Well, Mr Potter," the woman said at last. "I need to talk to you about the level of your studies; I don't know if you know, but the curriculum of the first year…"
"No, ma'am, I didn't know."
"Well, the point is that at the end of the term, the corresponding examinations will be carried out, giving you the result the day before the Christmas holidays," Professor Sprout said and added, handing him a scroll. "This will be the timetable for your exams."
The exams were scheduled to be carried out outside class hours, in the offices of the different Professors, and as his Head of House had told him, they were scheduled to be held around five o'clock in the afternoon the week before Christmas, which gave him only three weeks to prepare for them.
After that day, much of his time was spent preparing the material he had been given, and even perfecting it. He intended to get good grades; he wanted Remus to feel proud of him; his parents didn't care, but Remus, his uncle's opinion of him, was different. Most of his time he used to spend in his room studying; above all, he did it because of the resources he had there, but also because in that way he could concentrate better. In his common room or in the library of the school, there were too many people, many of them offering their help that made things worse than helping.
His friends had noticed his disappearances, but although they were dying to ask where he was going, they finally decided not to do it, coming to the conclusion that if Harry wanted to explain it to them, he would do it himself and when he felt ready; they would be there for him alone.
On the day of the first exam, the poor boy was like a jelly; he was a bundle of nerves, and although all his friends (including the twins) tried to reassure him, they did not succeed. In those days, Harry was out of regular classes, so when his friends went to class, he went to his room in order to give his Transfiguration material a final review, in order to make everything perfect. Although when he entered and prepared to leave his things at the central table, he was surprised to discover an envelope on which his name was written in a letter all too familiar: Remus. Hogwarts surely realised that he would go straight to the room, and had made the letter reach there, away from the curious eyes of the Great Hall. He opened it and smiled.
"Dear Harry,
How are you? I suppose at the moment, too nervous to stay still in one place. Have you taken refuge in your room? I suppose so.
I want you to first of all calm down. Assume that everything they ask you, you know how to do, so nothing bad will happen; better to take it as if they were homework or some kind of routine check-up, that way you will be calmer. Did you tell me you have Transfiguration first, right? If so, calm down, McGonagall will not give you anything beyond your capabilities. The same goes for everyone else; they're good Professors and are surely doing everything they can so that you are the beneficiary.
Have you decided yet if you are staying at school during Christmas? Think well, Christmas at Hogwarts is something fantastic and worthy of experiencing. If, on the other hand, you want to come home, Padfoot and I will be here like every Christmas; you choose.
Wishing you all the luck in the world for your exams, I say goodbye.
Remember that I love you.
Moony"
Harry smiled as he read the letter; now he felt much better. He had an Uncle Remus to make him feel good, even despite being on the verge of a hysterical attack. He was still nervous, but not to the level he had been before, during breakfast; thinking that it would be best to finish calming down before he started revising for the exam, and for that reason, he decided to think about his uncle's letter.
The truth is that until that moment he had not decided what he was going to do: stay during Christmas at Hogwarts, or come home? He knew the truth that if his family wasn't what it was, he wouldn't hesitate to go there to spend the holidays, but since that was not the case, he hesitated. On the one hand, Hogwarts would be much more fun, and for a change, he would have a cosier Christmas, but his friends were going home, and he would be alone. Moreover, at home, he would certainly not be welcome and could not practice or investigate his magic, but Remus would be there. He sighed, knowing it was illogical, but he decided to go home… Merlin wished he was not wrong.
That afternoon, he found himself knocking nervously at Professor McGonagall's door for his examination. He wasn't as nervous as he had been that morning, but he was still too nervous to take the exam calmly.
"Ahhh… Mr Potter, are you ready for your exam?" said Professor McGonagall as soon as she opened the door, smiling.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Very well, go ahead," the woman said, stepping aside. "Sit down at the desk… no, not that one, the other one, Mr Potter."
Harry blushed at his mistake and to the Professor's amusement. Not that he would have wanted to, but he had not thought that the Professor had conjured a desk, although he should have imagined it. He sat at his desk and waited for her to give him his exam and the anti-cheating quill that he was sure would come. Yes, he was right; the only thing she would allow him to have was the inkwell. Sighing for strength, he began to read his theoretical exam and blinked in surprise. Was she really going to ask him that? It was very easy! Already more relieved, he began his examination.
The following week flew by for the boy; as Remus had assured him, his exams were not as difficult as he had imagined… on the contrary, they were very easy, although his Professors thought it was quite complicated, and from their expressions, his classmates and friends did too, because Hermione, who was a bookworm and had memorised almost the entire syllabus, had been quite frightened when explaining what she had been asked. Although, what had gone "too well" for him had been Potions; he had not been able to resist. He had to make a basic healing potion, one of those that Harry had experimented with and improved, and of course, Professor Snape had noticed, questioning him even more to know exactly what he had done… That surely he would have passed with flying colours.
So he found himself eager to be given his grades, and his friends were as eager as he was. Hermione had extracted a promise from him that if he had them, he would meet them in the library to share them with the others. On second thought, he didn't know who was more excited, him or his friends… Well, he did, his friends, especially Hermione.
"Good afternoon, Mr Potter," Professor Sprout greeted him when he went to her office the day before the holidays. "Please sit down."
Harry sat quietly. His heart was racing a thousand miles an hour, and his palms sweated from nervousness. He watched as his Head of House sat right in front of him and smiled kindly at him, and at the same time, he felt how the school tried to calm him down… Not that that did much; he was still extremely nervous.
"I understand that you will be very nervous and quite anxious to know what your grades have been," she chuckled. "So I'm not going to make you suffer more. Here you go."
The Professor held out a scroll to him where the results of his exams were written. He looked at it impatiently and smiled openly, though somewhat surprised. He had passed everything! And with excellent marks!
"Congratulations, Mr Potter, your grades are excellent," Professor Sprout said with a smile. "You have reason to be happy. Now, Professor McGonagall has asked me to deliver this to you… it is the list with the books for the second year; I see that you will be coming home for Christmas, so we hope that when you return, you have all the material available. You will have to work hard to catch up with the rest of your second-year peers, but I'm sure you'll make it very quickly."
"Yes, ma'am! Are you sure there wasn't a mistake with my marks?"
"No, Mr Potter, there has not been. Go on, now go and enjoy your free time."
Acknowledging the dismissal, Harry nodded, smiling, and left his Professor's office to practically fly to the library where the anxious group was waiting for him. When they saw him, they surrounded him, and Harry had the vision of vultures surrounding their prey.
"Well, go on! How did it go?" Hermione asked.
"That! Don't keep us on tenterhooks!" added Malfoy (now Draco).
"I've passed everything," Harry said. "I'm a second-year!"
"Let me see!" Athenea exclaimed, snatching the parchment from him, taking a look at it and whistling. "Passed? You got 'Outstanding' in every single subject! Keep it up and earn a place of honour in 'Hogwarts: A History!'"