This isn't going to work any more. It was the third week of classes, fifth year. Harry had just gotten back his summer potions essay. Snape's usual rude comments and the reality of being a fifth year was suddenly striking him. It felt like a train in his face.

He needed this mark. Snape only took those who earned an "O" in OWLS into his NEWT class, and a NEWT in potions was required for entry into the Auror program. Harry had three goals in life. Snog Cho Chang, become an Auror and kill Voldemort, not necessarily in that order.

When the bell rang, he copied down the homework assignment and hurried up to the library. He was going to do everything within his power to make sure that he passed the quiz the next week with a high grade, one as good as Hermione's.

For the next week Harry rarely saw his friends. He spent his time in the library, reading the supplemental readings that Snape suggested they do. And he did the normal reading for the first time ever. It was surprising how much sense everything began to make as he read about it, getting better ideas and notes then he could have had himself.

The night before the quiz and the due date of the essay, Harry slaved over his notes and study questions. He didn't think that it was possible to put any more work into an essay. After all, he'd written it out several times, making sure all the words were spelled right and the ink didn't smear. It was well after midnight by the time he got to bed.

"Why you reading that?" Ron asked loudly the next morning at the Gryffindor table, his words nearly getting lost through his mouthful of toast and the orange juice that sprayed out of his mouth and towards Harry.

Harry looked up, a dark scowl on his face. "I'm studying Ron. Surely you've heard of it? Some of us want to pass potions and actually put some work into it." He turned away, burying himself back in the book and trying to memorize its contents.

Ron shook his head and didn't notice the bits of bread that fell out of his mouth. He wasn't sure why Harry was studying so much. At first he'd thought Harry had gotten a girlfriend, he was always hanging out in weird parts of the castle and coming back at all hours of the night.

"He'll come around-," Fred slapped Ron on one shoulder.

"-Eventually." George slapped his brother's other shoulder and sat down next to him, picking up a piece of buttered toast from his brother's plate. "Good." He said through a mouthful.

"Everyone gets like this at some point." Fred went on to explain.

"Yeah, they figure since its OWL years they'd better do some real work. It never lasts long." George finished. He wiped the crumbs off his face. "Thanks for the toast brother dear." He linked arms with Fred and the two wandered off to make trouble for a Second Year Slytherin.

Harry didn't hear anything his teachers said all morning. He spent his time reading and studying and quizzing himself. Most of his seats were in the back of classrooms and the Professors couldn't see. Professor McGonagall assignment them practical work in class, but Hermione managed to cover for him and he got his book away just in time as she approached the back of the classroom.

Potions was his only class after lunch. He rushed in as close to the bell as possible and hurried to his desk. The tests were already laid out. Harry pulled out his essay, a quill and a pot of ink. The essay he handed in to Snape and managed to get back to his desk a fraction of a second before Hermione. He flipped over the paper and let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"Problem Potter?" The Professor's sarcastic tones carried over the entire classroom.

"No sir." Harry looked up quickly. He was having a hard time believing that he actually knew the answer to the first question, and the second question and almost all the questions on the test. It was a new experience and one that he liked.

Harry zipped through the questions and turned the page, actually surprised that there was no page after the one he was on. It had been so quick and so easy. He turned back to the front and read through his answers, correcting a few minor spelling mistakes and adding extra information he'd remembered. Two rows over he could hear the constant scratching of Hermione's quill and he wanted to look over and see if she'd finished. But he was determined to not give Snape any reason to think he'd cheated. He wanted the good mark so bad, more than he'd ever wanted to play Quidditch, but not more than he'd ever wanted to kill Voldemort.

Finally the bell rang and Snape stopped pacing around the classroom and stood at the front of the classroom, arms folded over his chest as he glared at the students placing their tests into a neat pile in front of him.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief as they left the class. "That had to have been impossible." He groaned. "He's going to work us like this all year, and claim it's all OWL prep when he just wants to fail us." He looked back at Harry. "Don't you agree?"

Harry shook his head. "I thought that test was pretty easy."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Same here. But what did you put for number twelve? I started going into the Snell principal but I wasn't sure. . ."

Ron tuned out his friends. He really couldn't have cared less about Potions or the quiz they'd just had. After all, it was over now, no reason to think of it until they got it back or until the final exam. He probably wasn't ever going to think about it again. There was no point.

Once they were back at the Gryffindor tower, Harry let himself relax. He played a game of Chess with Ron and talked to Angelina about the Quidditch practice schedule. It was not easy to explain to her that he was putting more work into his studies and that three practices a day just wasn't going to be happening. She almost kicked him off the team for that.

All evening Hermione had been bothering Harry. As soon as they'd got back she'd sat down at her table and started studying and doing homework and various reading assignments. It made him feel like he should be working on something too, but it didn't seem like there was anything to work on. They'd had a quiz, I'm rewarding myself for working. Harry told himself, but the words didn't even convince him.

Harry bit his lip and crashed onto the nearest unoccupied armchair. This system is only going to work if I keep at it. Stopping after one quiz isn't going to change anything. He got up off the armchair and shrugged off Ron telling him about a pick-up game of Quidditch after supper.

Hermione wasn't surprised when she heard the shuffling of feet stop in front of her. Plenty of younger students, and sometimes the older ones, asked her for help on a regular basis. But the last person she expected to see was Harry. Usually he and Ron only asked her for help with anything the night before it was due and there was no test and no essays until next week. But Harry was carrying his own books, Potions only she noticed, in his arms and meekly asked if there was any extra space.

"Um, sure." Hermione scooted her chair over and dragged her towering pile of books over a few inched. "Be my guest. What do you need help with?" She vowed inside her head to be patient and not get annoyed that her own study time was getting disturbed.

"Nothing." Harry looked slightly surprised. "I just wanted to get some work done."

The next week passed quickly and soon Harry was sitting nervously in Potions class. Snape lectured them, took points from Gryffindor, insulted Harry and took a few more points from Gryffindor. Harry let the insults slide off and took notes. He liked his notes, they had all the important information and were easy enough to read.

It wasn't until the end of class, while everyone was sweating over their cauldrons that Snape began to toss the essays and quizzes onto peoples desks. Harry's heart quickened every time Snape approached him, but the papers never were for him.

His were near the bottom of the stack, right onto of Hermione's and underneath Malfoy's. He clutched up the paper quickly glad that his potion was at the stage when he could turn off the flame. Nothing would prevent him from looking at his marks.

"I have marked your work the way it will be evaluated on the OWL." Snape's greasy voice seemed to wrap itself around the corners of the room. "Those of you who find getting a passing grade. . .difficult will most certainly fail your OWL, unless of course you are able to grow a brain."

Harry looked at his essay. It was just as covered in red ink as it usually was but at the top there was a spiny "A". This was the lowest passing grade, but it was a passing grade. Harry wanted to cry. He'd worked so hard and put so much time and effort into this essay. He deserved better than an "A".

The test was not the same story. Snape seemed to have taken off as many marks as was possible, but Harry smiled at the total. Seven marks from perfect and the "E" above it. At least here he'd managed a decent mark. It wouldn't get him into the Auror academy, but it was decent.

Ron groaned loudly as the trio headed back to the Gryffindor tower. He'd failed both and Snape had made several very nasty comments on his essay. Hermione was quiet, looking over her paper. Harry tried to find out how she'd done, but she was so tight lipped, he as surprised she was even capable of speaking.

That night studying was different. He poured all of his energy into writing his next potions essay. This time, I'll get Hermione to look it over before I hand it in.

And so things continued with Harry pouring his life into Potions and getting back scathing comments and poor marks. The next weeks passed quickly. Harry studied with Hermione every night, to the point where Angelina was fuming mad. And he quit the team.

"You can't quit!" Angelina stood in front of him, yelling loud enough that the crowd gathered to watch the drama was unnecessary. They could have heard from their dormitories.

"I just did." Harry opened his Potions book. "I take my studies serious. A NEWT is Potions is required to get into the Auror Academy, not Quidditch experience." He looked at his book and ignored Angelina for the rest of the night and the next few days too. But nothing she did would make him rejoin the team. They had to make due with Ginny Weasley.

Once the first of December hit Harry decided he couldn't stand it any more. He'd worked himself to death and neglected his other classes trying to improve his Potions mark and all he got for his trouble were nasty comments and low grades. "I've had it." He announced one day while leaving class. His latest essay was clutched in his hand. He'd gotten an "A" on it once again.