The first day of sixth year dawned grey and cool, the kind of September morning that hinted at autumn without committing to it. Edmund woke before dawn, as he always did, and lay in his bed for a moment, listening to the soft breathing of his dormitory mates. Cassius snored. Horace muttered something about potion ingredients in his sleep. The green light of the lake shifted on the ceiling.
He dressed quietly, checked his wand, and slipped out of the Slytherin common room. The corridors were empty at this hour, the portraits still asleep, the torches burning low. He walked to the library, where Madam Pince was already at her desk, sharpening quills with aggressive precision.
"You're early," she said, not looking up.
"I have a lot to do this year."
"Hmph." She gestured toward the stacks. "Then don't waste time talking to me."
Edmund smiled and walked to his usual alcove. The books he needed were already there—stacked on the table, waiting for him. The system had generated his schedule the night before, and he had spent an hour memorizing it. Fifteen subjects. Nine niche, six core. Individual tutorials, small-group sessions, and now, finally, classes with his friends.
He opened his journal and reviewed the timetable one more time.
**SIXTH YEAR N.E.W.T. TIMETABLE – EDMUND PRINCE**
**Monday**
9:00 – 11:00: Alchemy (Prof. V. Marchbanks) – Individual tutorial
11:00 – 12:00: Study Period
1:00 – 3:00: Ancient Runes (Prof. Blackwood) – Small group
3:00 – 5:00: Independent Research (Healer Strout)
**Tuesday**
9:00 – 11:00: Arithmancy (Prof. Vane) – Small group
11:00 – 12:00: Study Period
1:00 – 3:00: Care of Magical Creatures (Prof. Kettleburn) – Small group
3:00 – 5:00: Healing Magic (Healer Strout) – Individual tutorial
**Wednesday**
9:00 – 11:00: Divination (Prof. Trelawney) – Individual tutorial
11:00 – 12:00: Study Period
1:00 – 3:00: Muggle Studies (Prof. Burbage) – Small group
3:00 – 5:00: Wardcraft (Prof. Finch) – Individual tutorial
**Thursday**
9:00 – 11:00: History of Magic (Prof. Binns) – Individual tutorial
11:00 – 12:00: Study Period
1:00 – 3:00: Charms (Prof. Marchbanks) – N.E.W.T. class (with friends)
3:00 – 5:00: Transfiguration (Prof. Wainwright) – N.E.W.T. class (with friends)
**Friday**
9:00 – 11:00: Potions (Prof. Burke) – N.E.W.T. class (with friends)
11:00 – 12:00: Defence Against the Dark Arts (Prof. Merrythought) – N.E.W.T. class (with friends)
1:00 – 3:00: Herbology (Prof. Foley) – N.E.W.T. class (with friends)
3:00 – 5:00: Astronomy (Prof. Sinistra) – N.E.W.T. class (with friends)
**Saturday** – Prefect Patrol rotations / Study
**Sunday** – Free / Study
Fifteen subjects. Six days a week. He would have no time for Quidditch, for clubs, for the ordinary pleasures of school life. But he had never come to Hogwarts for ordinary pleasures.
---
The first core class of the week was Charms on Thursday afternoon.
Edmund walked into the classroom and found it already half-full. Students from Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff sat at the long tables, their wands out, their N.E.W.T. texts open. He spotted Cassius near the back, Arthur beside him, Horace in the front row, and Astrid by the window.
"Edmund!" Arthur waved. "Over here!"
He slid into the seat beside Cassius. The table was crowded—six students to a bench, elbows bumping, parchment rustling. It was the opposite of his individual tutorials, and he found himself smiling.
"Welcome to the real world," Cassius said. "Crowded classrooms, noisy students, and Professor Marchbanks's pop quizzes."
"I've missed this," Edmund said.
"You've missed crowded classrooms?"
"I've missed you."
Cassius snorted. "Don't get sentimental. It's bad for your reputation."
Professor Marchbanks entered, and the room fell silent. She stood at the front, her sharp eyes sweeping over the class, her wand tapping against her palm.
"N.E.W.T.-level Charms," she said, "is not for the faint of heart. You are here because you achieved an Outstanding or Exceeds Expectations in your O.W.L.s. That means you know the basics. Now you will learn the advanced applications."
She pointed her wand at the blackboard, and words appeared in elegant script.
*The Patronus Charm – Corporeal vs. Incorporeal*
*The Fidelius Charm – Theory and Limitations*
*The Memory Charm – Ethical Considerations*
"By the end of this year," Marchbanks continued, "you will be able to cast a corporeal Patronus, understand the theoretical framework of the Fidelius, and perform a selective Memory Charm without damaging surrounding recollections. Those who cannot will not receive an Outstanding."
The class shifted uncomfortably. Edmund took notes.
---
Transfiguration with Professor Wainwright was next. The room was smaller, the class size limited to those who had achieved Outstanding in their O.W.L.s. Cassius was there. Astrid was there. Horace was not—he had chosen to focus on Potions instead.
"Human Transfiguration," Wainwright said, without preamble. "This is the most dangerous branch of magic you will ever study. One mistake can kill you. One wrong thought can leave you permanently transformed, trapped in a shape that is not your own."
He looked at the class. "There are witches and wizards in St. Mungo's who have not spoken in decades because they cannot remember how to be human. Do not become one of them."
Edmund's hand moved across his parchment, recording every word.
---
Potions with Professor Burke was held in the dungeons, the familiar room where Edmund had spent countless hours brewing and learning. The class was small—only a handful of students had achieved the required O.W.L. grade. Horace was there, his round face alight with excitement. Astrid was there, her expression unreadable.
"The Draught of Living Death," Burke said, his voice quiet but carrying. "You will brew it. You will perfect it. And you will understand that perfection is not a destination. It is a process."
He handed out the instructions, and the class began to work.
Edmund's hands moved automatically, measuring, crushing, stirring. The potion turned from pale lilac to clear silver, the bubbles rising in the steady rhythm that Burke had demonstrated years ago. He finished first, as he often did, and Burke examined his cauldron.
"Acceptable," Burke said. But his eyes lingered on the potion, and Edmund thought he saw the ghost of a nod.
---
Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Merrythought was held in a large chamber on the fourth floor. Arthur was there, his wand ready, his eyes bright. Cassius was there, stretching his wand arm like a duellist preparing for a match. Edmund sat between them.
"The Patronus Charm," Merrythought said. "You have all attempted it. Some of you have succeeded. This year, you will master it."
She conjured a Dementor construct, and the temperature dropped. Edmund closed his eyes and found the memory—the evening in the common room, his friends around him, the fire crackling. *"Expecto Patronum."*
The silver wolf burst from his wand, solid and bright. It circled the room once, then returned to him, pressing its head against his hand before fading.
Merrythought nodded. "Excellent, Mr. Prince. Now help your classmates."
Edmund spent the rest of the class working with Arthur, who could still only produce a silver mist. "You're trying too hard," Edmund said. "The memory has to be pure. Not pride. Not accomplishment. Joy."
Arthur frowned. "What if I don't have a memory like that?"
"Then you haven't lived enough. Find one."
---
Herbology with Professor Foley was held in Greenhouse Four, the air thick with the scent of earth and growing things. The class was small—N.E.W.T.-level Herbology was not popular—but Edmund found himself enjoying it. The plants were dangerous, demanding, and utterly indifferent to his other responsibilities.
"The Venomous Tentacula," Foley said, pointing to a large specimen in the corner. "You will harvest its leaves without being stung. Those who fail will spend the night in the Hospital Wing."
Edmund approached the plant slowly, cast a calming charm at its roots, and plucked three leaves. He was the first to finish.
---
Astronomy with Professor Sinistra was held in the tower at midnight. The sky was clear, the stars bright, the air cold enough to make breath mist. Edmund stood at his telescope, charting the position of Jupiter, while Cassius complained about the lack of sleep.
"I don't know why I took Astronomy," Cassius muttered. "I don't even like stars."
"Then why are you here?"
"Because my father said it would look good on my N.E.W.T. certificate."
Edmund smiled. "That's the most Slytherin thing you've ever said."
---
The weeks passed. Edmund fell into a rhythm: niche subjects in individual tutorials, core subjects with his friends, independent research in the evenings. His schedule was brutal, but he was not alone. He saw his friends in Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Defence, Herbology, and Astronomy. They studied together, complained together, celebrated small victories together.
"You're in more classes than anyone," Arthur said one evening, as they sat in the common room. "How do you keep track of it all?"
"I have a system."
"What kind of system?"
Edmund smiled. "A personal one."
The system tracked his progress quietly.
**Progress – End of October**
*N.E.W.T. Preparation (All Subjects):*
- Alchemy: 72%
- Ancient Runes: 75%
- Arithmancy: 68%
- Care of Magical Creatures: 74%
- Divination: 50%
- Muggle Studies: 78%
- History of Magic: 65%
- Healing Magic: 85%
- Wardcraft: 75%
- Charms: 82%
- Transfiguration: 75%
- Potions: 80%
- Defence Against the Dark Arts: 72%
- Herbology: 70%
- Astronomy: 65%
He was on track. The N.E.W.T.s were still a year and a half away, but he was making steady progress in all fifteen subjects.
---
One evening in November, Edmund sat in the common room with his friends, the fire crackling, the lake dark beyond the windows. Cassius was arguing with Arthur about Quidditch. Horace was reading a Potions journal. Astrid was carving a rune stone, her knife moving in small, precise strokes.
"You've been quiet," Cassius said, looking at Edmund.
"I've been thinking."
"About what?"
Edmund looked at his friends—his friends who had been with him since first year, who had studied with him, laughed with him, grown with him. They would take their N.E.W.T.s together in two years. They would graduate together. And then they would go their separate ways.
"About the future," he said.
Cassius shrugged. "The future can wait. We're still here."
Edmund smiled. "You're right. It can wait."
He leaned back in his chair and let the warmth of the fire wash over him. The work was never done, but tonight, he would rest.
The sixth year had begun. And he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
---