Neville seemed to think Harry's behavior was just examination nerves, but Daphne disagreed. Harry had so far managed to dodge each attempt by Tracey to draw the truth out of him.
"Why are you so worried? you're at the top of the class. No one is going to score higher than you and you know it. You've even started practicing second year spells, and episkey and protego are even more complicated than that, and you do the both of them alright. Are you having nightmares? Are the other boys in Ravenclaw mean to you? Do you like the Ravenclaw dormitory? What color are the curtains in there? I bet they're all blue and bronze. Ugh, bronze. Silver is much prettier, don't you think? I think Slytherin had good taste with his colors but I suppose Ravenclaw was a bit of a nerd, so that's why her colors are all like that. Also, why don't you wear your glasses anymore? Hermione has been telling everyone that you have little pieces of stuff in your eye, is that true?"
Okay, so there really wasn't much dodging on his part. She distracted herself well enough on her own. Daphne was trickier, and her eyes often glinted with suspicion he knew he couldn't just throw off or divert.
The potions regiment the Headmaster put him on had finally ended, and halfway through their exams he woke up to find he no longer needed glasses. He was a fair bit taller, skinny, but not scrawny, and a scant few inches shorter than Ron Weasley, the tallest in their year.
Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry couldn't help cheering with the rest. He should never have given up on finding a way to banish the spirit.
"That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct, or the uprising of Elfric the Eager."
He gave her a long and suffering look, before glancing at the boy who was forced to share a common room with the girl. Harry, as much as he liked her and discussing theory with her, felt he got just enough of her to safely stomach from their time in the library; he could only imagine what it was like for Neville.
He decided to approach Professor McGonagall in her office in order to ask about speaking to the Headmaster, regarding his accommodations for the summer.
"Hello Professor, I was hoping you could help me, I wanted to talk to Professor Dumbledore."
"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"
"I uh… well…" He swallowed. He was incredibly uncomfortable about talking about this and, for the first time all in a couple months, he wanted to be in his cupboard. He swallowed that down too. The wizard in the mirror didn't need that, and neither would he.
"He's my magical guardian, he told me he didn't want me to go back to my Aunt and Uncle and I wanted to talk to him about where I would be staying."
Professor McGonagall sighed, her eyes had pierced him before but now they flickered away from his face. "I did warn him about them, you know, your relatives. I was furious with him when I saw your letter at the start of term."
Harry had never been more uncomfortable in his life. He looked at her nervously.
"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she informed him after a moment. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."
Flew? Could he not apparate?
"He's gone, then?" He asked sullenly.
"I'm afraid so, Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Mr. Potter, he has many demands on his time, though I am sure he will make sure you are well taken care of. You needn't worry, Potter, you won't be returning to your family. Even if Professor Dumbledore would allow it, you can be sure that I most certainly would not."
He nodded. "When can we expect him back, if you don't mind me asking?" He said the last part quickly. He was always more nervous around those he couldn't read. "This has been bothering me lately, you see."
Professor McGonagall nodded and smiled at him.
"Did he leave for business with Nicolas Flamel? Is he moving the Stone? Or the Mirror?" Harry didn't realize he wanted to see the mirror so badly, and spoke without thinking.
Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up. "How do you know -?" She spluttered.
Oops.
Er- which one?"
She eyed him with a mixture of shock and suspicion. "Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she said with finality. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, it is safe here in the castle." The last part seemed tagged on as an afterthought.
"You sound worried, Professor." Whoever had wanted it had been willing to break into Gringotts to get it, and that was supposedly no mean feat.
"Potter, I know what I'm talking about," she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. I suggest you go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."
Harry felt himself grow wary. If someone was going to try and steal it, they would do so while the Headmaster was away. Daphne joined him with Tracey as he approached the room where he usually practiced.
He was so deep in thought he ran right into Professor Snape.