“How do we conduct the exams these days, Professor?” Headmaster Flamel asked Professor Binns, who had been teaching at Hogwarts for generations. Binns, a ghost, drifted slowly as he taught History of Magic. “The system of exams has become a little lenient lately,” Professor Binns replied. “Defence Against the Dark Arts is conducted as a written test so students don’t hurt themselves performing spells. It’s the same for Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and History.” “What about Herbology and Astronomy?” Flamel asked. “Er… Herbology and Astronomy exams are not conducted,” Binns answered hesitantly. The Headmaster’s expression stiffened. “Why not? They’re crucial parts of the curriculum, aren’t they?” “You’re right, Headmaster,” Binns said, “but the Ministry doesn’t consider these subjects particularly useful. Students tend to pursue them as hobbies after school, so official exams… well, they’re not held.” Flamel raised an eyebrow. “What about students with particular interests? I’ve kno...
Fictus Nativitas Peter found the spell in the diary. He murmured the description and usage of the spell slowly, making sure no one in the library could hear him. “Think of the object you wish to mimic—think closely—and then repeat clearly and precisely: Fictus Nativitas.” Peter knew exactly what he needed to mimic, what he needed to create. He practiced the spell under his breath all the way back to the dormitory. Later, sitting upright on his bed after his roommates had fallen asleep, Peter took out the diary once more. He reread the instructions, closed his eyes, and envisioned the wonderful moment he longed for: tomorrow’s match, the Golden Snitch clutched in his hand, his face glowing with triumph as the crowd roared. Peter could almost feel the victory. Slowly, he opened his eyes and raised his wand. “Fictus Nativitas,” he whispered. ...