Chapter 596: Pre-Exam
Chapter 596: Pre-Exam
Exiting Classroom Seven, Hermione chattered non-stop.
"Completely unexpected! It was so much better than I imagined. I thought it would be all practical tests, like being thrown into the Forbidden Forest to be chased by all sorts of strange creatures... I mean, that wouldn't be bad, but I preferred a quiet and efficient thinking space—"
"Who wouldn't?" Ron interjected.
He and Harry were drenched in sweat, their hair disheveled as if they had just undergone a grueling Quidditch training session.
Hermione didn't catch the implication, still excitedly sharing her thoughts: "You can directly converse with the room, and it will provide assistance according to your needs. I did exactly that, you know? I've always dreamed of reading a dozen books at once. They're all interconnected, different interpretations of the same magic... I could cross-reference them, and it really worked!"
"The best part is, a drink appears every half-hour—tea, hot chocolate, or Pumpkin Juice, all ghost food. But that's not a bad thing."
Harry and Ron exchanged glances. They hadn't gotten any hot tea, but a rotating array of dishes had followed them, forcing them to practice Transfiguration. Harry swore he wouldn't touch a mushroom for a week.
"I heard there's a classroom mode, where students gather to study like a class", Harry changed the subject.
"Really?" Hermione tried to recall. "I think I saw it. We could give it a try."
The next two weeks flew by. As June approached, fifth and seventh-year students focused all their energy on revision. Professors stopped assigning homework and instead reviewed potential exam questions in class. Students were often dazed and confused, and the limited class time was never enough. They had to cram information and either spend their entire evenings in the Library or practice casting in Classroom Seven.
During this time, Hermione fulfilled her promise by demonstrating the most challenging potion-making techniques to some students. The crowd included members from all four houses, but they could be divided into two categories: members of the front-line lookout and their friends, and a dozen or so Slytherins.
The former contributed significantly to simplifying potion processes, while the latter—well, they provided valuable potion ingredients.
"I didn't see Goyle and Crabbe", Hermione said softly, watching Draco Malfoy's retreating back after the demonstration.
"Not just them", Fred chimed in. "Everyone with Death Eater relatives is trying to distance themselves. But those with direct Death Eater relatives are in a bad spot, very unpopular."
Harry understood. He remembered reading in the newspaper a few weeks ago that Crabbe and Goyle's fathers had been sentenced to life imprisonment by the Wizengamot.
"What about Malfoy? Isn't his dad a spy?" Ron asked.
"Him? Neither here nor there", Fred said nonchalantly. "He was initially shunned, but Slytherin isn't short of clever people. They quickly rallied around him", he added, "or maybe their parents were smart."
"Some still resent him, though", George said.
"Those with direct Death Eater relatives", Harry confirmed.
"Exactly", George winked. "Give and take. Fair, isn't it?"
Harry felt relieved. He had been worried that Slytherins might cause trouble and even considered asking a professor—definitely not Snape, but Sirius Black—to supervise. However, Sirius Black was too busy. He privately complained to Harry that Dumbledore seemed to know he wouldn't be teaching the next year and was piling on tasks.
To motivate the students, Sirius Black even made a bet: if anyone excelled in the Wizard Level Examination, he would share his experience with Animagus transformation as a reward.
"Imagine, while Professor Mcgonagall knows about it, she won't share it easily. It's a privilege reserved for the top students in the Transfiguration Club", he said casually. "Want it? Then aim for excellence."
"Professor Black, will you continue teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts next year?" a student asked hopefully.
Sirius Black shook his head. "Only this year." Seeing the disappointed look on the student's face, he quickly added, "Don't worry, I keep my word. The knowledge will be in Professor Hup's hands..."
Professor Hup only learned about this on the third day. He had been spending most of his time deep in Classroom Seven, even creating a temporary office—the Mind Chamber and Classroom Seven were a perfect match. The constant stream of emotions from the students, fueled by their exam preparation, accelerated his research.
"When did you give me the Animagus materials?"
At dinner one day, Felix confronted Sirius Black, his tone unfriendly. He had belatedly realized that the news of 'Professor Black entrusting the knowledge to Professor Hup' had spread throughout the school.
"Was I wrong?" Sirius Black said dismissively. "The Black Family's vast library is all in your head. Animagus transformation is just a minor part of it. No wonder you don't remember."
Felix fell silent.
...
After lights out, Harry sat on the windowsill of the dormitory, gazing at the stars. He realized that two days ago, he had won the Quidditch Cup. This should have been a cause for celebration, but the Gryffindor team—except for Katie Bell, who didn't need to study—had only briefly attended the celebration before diving back into Fred's 'pesky little goblins.'
As June approached, the shadow of exams loomed larger.
More than one student suffered from exam syndrome, developing strange behaviors. For example, Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff liked to inquire about others' study schedules, feeling relieved if they studied less than him and anxious if they studied more.
Hermione was no exception and excelled in two areas. She single-handedly dismantled the burgeoning black market for young wizards, confiscating everything from poorly packaged Brain Boosting Potion to fox dung disguised as dragon claw powder, and various substandard Joy Elixir and Dream Potion, all made by students, and flushing them down the toilet.
Another peculiar habit she developed was squinting at people, often while walking to class with Harry and Ron or during meals, accompanied by muttering and poking the air.
"Are you Luna in disguise?" Harry jokingly asked Hermione.
"What? Of course not!" Hermione said impatiently. "I'm just reading in my head."
In the last class before the exam, Felix gave the students a pep talk.
"The Ancient Runes exam is on Friday, with a written test in the morning and a practical in the afternoon", Felix said. "I was involved in creating the practical questions, so you can rest assured they are within the review range."
"Also, I'm sure you know cheating is strictly forbidden."
The students in the audience looked tense, and Felix couldn't read their true thoughts without using Legilimency.
"The examiners are experienced and can easily detect any cheating. To give you an idea, the chief examiner, Professor Griselda Marchbanks, presided over Dumbledore's N.E.W.Ts when she was young. This means she has proctored exams of similar importance about a hundred times."
Harry inhaled sharply, having never considered this perspective. He looked around, and others wore similar expressions. Professor Hup had used a real-life example to illustrate just how difficult cheating would be.
"Things like self-writing Quills, memory balls, detachable cheat sleeves, and self-correcting ink are all prohibited. I spent two days at the Wizarding Examination Authority, and believe me, devising anti-cheating spells is a regular part of their routine. I saw all sorts of bizarre gadgets, truly remarkable..."
"My personal advice is to get some Dream Potion from Madam Pomfrey for a good night's sleep and chew on some mint leaves before the exam to stay alert. Yes, mint leaves are allowed."
...
On Sunday morning, Seamus stumbled into the Great Hall, shouting, "The examiners are here!" The festive atmosphere plummeted instantly, and a seventh-year girl burst into tears, with a circle of people rushing to comfort her.
Harry kept one eye on the hysterical girl and the other on the Great Hall entrance, trying to spot the examiners. He nearly snorted food up his nose. As he coughed, he heard synchronized gasps from his sides and looked up to see Dumbledore escorting an elderly woman through the door.
"It's Professor Machi Ban!" Hermione said, her voice unusually strained.
"I heard she's good friends with Neville's grandmother. Do you think we can—" Ron said hopefully, but then he saw Neville's stiff expression and sighed, "Ah, probably not."
On the other side—
"Dumbledore?" Professor Machi Ban called out to Dumbledore, who was followed by the silent Professor Mcgonagall and Snape. "Dorothy told me you haven't been for your check-ups—"
"The school has an excellent Healer", Dumbledore said calmly. "She can easily handle my minor aches and pains."
On the last night before the exam, Harry lay in bed, unable to sleep.
His mind was unusually active. He thought about Sirius Black's encouragement, the unappreciated taste of holding the Quidditch Cup, and even about Voldemort, who hadn't appeared in his dreams for a long time. It seemed Professor Hup and Headmaster Dumbledore's theory about Voldemort using Occlumency on him was correct—hence, his scar hadn't hurt.
Harry got out of bed and fumbled in the dark, finally finding a small bottle of Dream Potion in the Christmas stocking Dobby had given him. He unscrewed the cap and took a sip.
"Give me some, Harry", Ron said unexpectedly.
Harry handed the open bottle to Ron, their hands bumping in the air. Ron took a swallow and smacked his lips contentedly. Then another voice came from the side—
"Any left?" Neville whispered. He was also awake.
"Plenty", Ron said. No sooner had he spoken than Seamus and Dean's voices came from different corners of the dormitory, "Great! Can I have some—?" "Thanks?"
The bottle made its rounds and returned to Harry empty.
As drowsiness overcame him, Harry placed the bottle on the bedside table, took off his glasses, and lay down on the pillow. "Should we set an alarm?" he mumbled.
"What?"
"I said—ha—ah—" Harry yawned widely and fell asleep.
...
Meanwhile, Bellatrix awoke in a coffin, sitting up dazedly, her hands still clutching the golden cup.
Voldemort was pleased with her attitude.
Bellatrix bowed her head respectfully, her face once again alight with a strange fervor.
"Crack, crack."
Bellatrix shook her stiff neck, having slept for a long time. Her limbs were uncooperative as she climbed out of the coffin, almost falling to the ground. Voldemort lazily flicked his fingers, and an invisible force straightened her.
"Thank you, my Lord. I—I—" Bellatrix stared at her hands, which no longer looked like normal skin, instead appearing wrinkled and pale, covered in fine scales. She widened her eyes and nervously touched her face.
Then came a chilling scream.
"Don't worry, my dear Bellatrix. This is only temporary", Voldemort said, satisfied with his 'creation.' "Your body underwent some subtle changes during your sleep, and it will take time to recover." He took Bellatrix's hand.
With Voldemort's help, Bellatrix staggered out of the coffin. The surroundings were a gloomy graveyard, overgrown and desolate, the wind piercing through her skin, causing her to shiver.
A few minutes later, Bellatrix, with more control over her limbs, followed Voldemort.
"While you were asleep, significant changes occurred outside."
"The Ministry of Magic's Aurors, guided by two traitors, have scattered my loyal followers... Bellatrix, you are one of the few who remain loyal to me."
"Master, Master!" Bellatrix said, tears of gratitude streaming down her face. "Thank you for your magnanimity, for not holding my sister and brother-in-law against me—" Voldemort's eyes glowed with dangerous red light, and she clamped her mouth shut, the air growing silent.
After a moment—
"Forgive?" Voldemort asked softly. Bellatrix lowered her head as Voldemort paced in front of her. "What makes you think I would forgive betrayal? Lucius... Selwyn... and perhaps others. The Ministry of Magic has cut off my information, and I am now blind, relying on newspapers for updates."
"Do you know what they discuss in the newspapers now?" Voldemort asked, answering himself before Bellatrix could respond. "Dumbledore, Hep, Potter, and even that woman... Amelia Bones."
The wind howled.
"They talk about the Dark Lord's nemesis, more than one!" Voldemort raised his voice, and Bellatrix's body trembled as if slapped. She fell to her knees, and Voldemort ignored her, his lips curling into an evil smile. "In their eyes, I am just a clown."
"Master, you are the supreme Dark Lord", Bellatrix sobbed, seemingly saddened by the loss of this honor. "Things aren't that bad—"
Voldemort laughed coldly.
"Things are not that bad", he said coldly. "But it is a critical moment. My duel with Dumbledore is approaching, and I am most concerned about Felix Hep interfering—"
"Is it a trap?" Bellatrix asked, holding her breath.
"No, Dumbledore would not dare to deceive me. He cannot afford the consequences", Voldemort said coldly, and Bellatrix fully understood the blood and cruelty in his words.
"The location of our duel is a secret, and I will set up protective charms around it..."
"What I am worried about is something else—he will come for you."
"Me?" Bellatrix said, both surprised and excited.
Voldemort stared at her pale face, making Bellatrix increasingly nervous and respectful.
"Bellatrix", Voldemort said softly, "you have always been loyal to me, and now it is time for me to repay you." He lifted Bellatrix's hand, his long, pale fingers gently hooking the golden cup from her grasp and examining it closely.
"I will share my secret of immortality with you."
(End of Chapter)
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