Return to Groosham Grange Read Online Free PDF Page B

Over and over again he muttered the figure to himself until at last he fell into an angry, restless sleep.

The Exam
    W ednesday quickly came, and with it the last examination of the year: Advanced Cursing.
    There was a tradition at Groosham Grange that all the ordinary exams were taken upstairs, in the Great Hall. But for the more secretive ones, the exams relating to witchcraft and black magic, the pupils went downstairs through the network of tunnels and secret passages that lay beneath the school and into an underground chamber where sixty-five desks and sixty-five chairs had been set up, far away from the prying sun. This, then, was to be the final testing ground: a hidden cavern among the stalactites and stalagmites with a great waterfall of crystallized rock guarding the way out.
    The exam was to start at eleven o’clock. At a quarter to, David made his way downstairs. His mouth was dry and he had an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was crazy. When it came to Advanced Cursing, everyone agreed he was untouchable. At the same time, he knew that it was one of Vincent’s weakest subjects. That morning he had checked the standings list one last time. He was still in first place. Vincent was three points behind. After that there was a gap of seventeen points to Jill, who was in third place. Looking at the bulletin board had told him what he wanted to know. This exam was between him and Vincent. And Vincent didn’t have a chance.
    So why was he feeling so nervous? David opened the door of the library and went in. Ahead of him there was a full-length mirror and he glanced at his reflection while he walked toward it. He was tired and it showed. He hadn’t slept well since his encounter in the heads’ study. He was still having the dreams: his parents, the school breaking up and the face that he was sure he recognized.
    He was right up against his reflection now. He scowled at himself briefly, then walked into the glass. The mirror rippled around him like water and then he had passed through it and into the first of the underground passages. His breath steamed slightly in the cold air as he followed the path down and he could feel the moisture clinging to his clothes. The examination room lay straight ahead, but on an impulse David took a fork, following a second passageway to the right. This was no more than a fissure in the rock, so narrow in places that he had to hold his breath to squeeze through. But then it widened out again and David found himself face to face with what he had come to see.
    The Unholy Grail was kept in a miniature grotto, separated from the passageway by six iron bars. The bars were embedded in the rock, and there was no visible way through to the chamber behind. The Grail stood on a rock pedestal, bathed in an unnatural silver light. It was about six inches high, a metallic gray in color, encrusted with dark red stones that were either rubies or carbuncles. There was nothing very extraordinary about it to look at. But David found that his breath had caught in his throat. He was hypnotized by it. He could sense the power that the Grail contained and he would have given anything to reach through the bars and hold it in his hand.
    This was what he was fighting for. He would take the exam and he would come in first. Nobody would stop him.
    “David . . . ?”
    Hearing his name, David swung around guiltily. He had been so absorbed in the Grail that he hadn’t heard anyone approach. He turned and saw the arts, crafts and voodoo master, Mr. Helliwell, standing at the entrance. He was wearing a dark, three-piece suit. It was the old-fashioned sort and made him look like a funeral director. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
    “I was just looking . . .” David was being defensive. After their meeting two nights before, he had nothing more to say. But to his surprise Mr. Helliwell moved closer and there was a frown of puzzlement on his face. “David,” he began. “I want to talk to