“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 known many who are keen on learning more about these subjects.”
“No, sir,” Binns sighed. “They usually continue privately, but exams—those aren’t conducted.”
“Well then,” Flamel said, sitting up straighter, “I suppose we must make a huge change yet again, Professor Binns. You shall coordinate this year’s exams… and we are going back to the old-school ways.”
A faint gleam of excitement crossed Binns’s face—a rare sight for a ghost.
“With my own twist,” Flamel added with a smirk.
Peter, Stewart, and Alison had been studying for weeks. Their minds, however, were preoccupied with the truth about Professor Lincon. Peter often checked on him, curious about what he was up to. Lincon had stopped wandering the hallways at night—a change Peter attributed to him retrieving his secret diary. With no need to search for it anymore, Lincon no longer roamed after hours.
The first exam was History of Magic—no written test this time. Students were to prepare and perform an act based on stories from their textbooks.
Peter, Alison, Stewart, and Harper reenacted the four majestic founders of Hogwarts, giving a performance that earned applause.
Next came Astronomy, held atop the Astronomy Tower. Students identified cosmic objects through telescopes.
-
Peter identified 7/10
-
Stewart identified 8/10
-
Alison identified 5/10
Peter had never been more nervous entering Lincon’s classroom. The exam involved dodging attacks from a mannequin enchanted by the professor.
Peter successfully dodged every spell and felt confident he’d earn an O or at least an E. Stewart and Alison dodged most of the attacks and were satisfied with their performance.
In Charms, Professor Mint instructed students to rearrange the Great Hall using the Levitation Charm.
-
Peter completed the task in 20 minutes
-
Stewart finished in 10 minutes
-
Alison took an hour
Professor Flamel personally conducted the Transfiguration exam. Students were to turn a bronze goblet into a bronze Snitch.
Peter’s heart skipped a beat—Flamel clearly remembered the prank Peter pulled during Quidditch, yet had never punished him for it.
Peter’s Snitch looked perfect, exactly as expected. Stewart’s and Alison’s transformations, unfortunately, resembled rubber balls rather than Snitches.
Herbology was practical and fairly simple.
Potions was far harsher. Students had to brew a Sectum Praesidium potion, designed to protect against spells like Sectumsempra. They were then required to drink their potions while Professor Claire cast Sectumsempra at them—an extreme test.
-
Peter withstood the full attack without a bruise
-
Stewart received a minor cut on his nose
-
Alison’s ear began bleeding
Headmaster Flamel intervened immediately, cancelling the dangerous testing method on the spot.
Peter kept the vial of his completed potion with him.
At last, the exams were over.
As the end of the year approached, Peter finally shared his thoughts with his friends.
“I think… I might be wrong about Professor Lincon,” Peter said quietly. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. Not yet.”
“That doesn’t mean he won’t,” Stewart pointed out.
“But why would he want to kill Professor Flamel?” Peter continued. “He’s had plenty of chances. If that was his plan, he would’ve done it already.”
“Maybe he’s waiting for the right moment,” Alison suggested. “A moment when students aren’t around.”
Peter stared out the window. Far across the grounds, he spotted Professor Lincon entering the Great Hall.
“Or maybe…” Peter said slowly, “he’s been waiting for the exams to end.”
The trio exchanged uneasy looks.
A chill settled over them.
Something felt wrong.
*******************************
It was ten at night when Professor Flamel took off his round glasses and placed them on the desk beside his bed. He closed his eyes and drifted into a deep sleep—until footsteps echoed inside his dream.
“Imperio,” a low voice whispered in his ear.
Flamel’s body stiffened and slipped into a trance, rising helplessly into the air. His eyes snapped open—and there he was:
Edward Black.
The grim figure stood before him, tall and pale, with long black hair hanging messily over a scarred face. He wore tattered white rags for clothing and, in his hand, held Professor Lincon’s wand.
Flamel’s heart dropped. He had been betrayed—fooled for an entire year by the very man he trusted. His daughter’s murderer hovered inches away, and he could do nothing.
“The time has come, Professor,” Edward said with a cold smirk.
Peter wasn’t sleeping that night. He and Stewart had been playing cards for hours, losing track of time. Stewart glanced out the window—and froze.
A mermaid was swimming outside the glass of the Slytherin dormitory, banging frantically.
Stewart nudged Peter. “Something’s wrong.”
The mermaid spoke urgently in Mermish—guttural, bubbling sounds neither boy could understand.
“What is she saying?” Stewart whispered.
The mermaid then covered her face with her hair and mimicked a posture of rage—the exact expression Peter had once seen in the Pensieve, on Edward Black.
Then she made a circle with her hands around her eyes—like round spectacles.
Peter’s breath caught.
“She’s warning us,” he said. “Edward Black. And… Professor Flamel.”
His blood went cold.
“Stewart! Get Alison. Professor Flamel is in danger—we need to leave. Now!”
Stewart ran toward the girls’ dormitory. Peter dashed out of the common room, bounding up the stairs toward the castle gateway. Through the nearest window, he saw it:
Edward Black’s shadowy figure carrying Professor Flamel toward the Forbidden Forest.
Stewart returned with Alison, breathless and pale. The trio sprinted across the grounds.
Peter grabbed the vial of the Sectum Praesidium potion and swallowed it. He had no idea what was coming—but he would need every advantage.
They chased Edward into the Forbidden Forest.
But once inside, there were no traces—no footprints, no voices, nothing.
They crept deeper and deeper.
“Why are you three here?”
A booming voice sounded behind them. They turned and found themselves surrounded by a herd of Centaurs. The leader stepped forward.
“You children should not be here at this hour,” he warned sternly.
Peter spoke up. “We’re looking for Professor Flamel. He’s been abducted by a dangerous man. Did you see where he went?”
“I saw him going west,” the leader answered.
“Thank you,” Peter said, trying to step past.
But the Centaur kept staring at him.
“Boy… do you understand you are in grave danger?”
Peter stopped. Alison and Stewart exchanged worried glances.
“We helped you,” the Centaur said darkly. “We do not usually attack children. But it is in our nature… to hate you.”
Stewart gulped. “What do you want?”
The leader’s eyes narrowed. “We need someone to tend to us—feed us, clean us. One of you will come with us.”
“That can’t happen—” Stewart began.
“Then we shall take you by force!”
The herd charged. Before Peter or Alison could react, they seized Stewart, pulling him onto a Centaur’s back as they galloped away.
“STEWART!” Peter and Alison screamed, racing after them.
They ran miles into the forest.
Then—
THUMP.
A massive wooden log struck Alison, knocking her to the ground. A Troll emerged from the darkness, roaring, swinging the log in wide arcs.
“Arresto Momentum!” Alison cried.
The Troll slowed instantly, moving in sluggish motion.
“Peter!” Alison gasped. “Go! Leave without me and Stewart! I’ll handle this!”
“No—I dragged you both into this. I’m not leaving you!”
“Peter, please!” Alison’s eyes filled with tears. “We’ll be fine—just go!”
The spell wore off. The Troll regained full speed, swinging its log into Peter and hurling him across the forest floor.
Alison limped away as the Troll chased her deeper into the woods. Peter, groaning in pain, pushed himself up. He had lost Stewart. Alison was being hunted. And Professor Flamel was already in Edward’s hands. He tightened his grip on his wand.
He had no choice but to keep going. After walking several miles through the dark trees, Peter finally heard footsteps—human footsteps.
He crept closer.
His heart dropped.
Edward Black knelt over Flamel’s unconscious body.
“Expelliarmus!” Peter shouted.
Edward dodged at the last moment. “Who’s there? Come out!”
Peter stepped forward, wand raised.
Edward’s eyes widened in surprise. “You? Boy, you’re walking into your own death. Leave—before I finish you.”
Peter didn’t move. “I know who you are… Professor Lincon.”
Edward froze, then burst into laughter.
“Peter, Peter, Peter… you amaze me every time.”
They stared at each other—the predator and the child who dared challenge him.
“So,” Edward continued mockingly, “how did you figure it out?”
“I was the one who had your diary.”
Edward’s expression shifted—amused, curious, almost impressed.
“Well,” Peter said firmly, “I won’t let you succeed. Leave Professor Flamel.”
Edward lifted Flamel by the neck effortlessly.
“Dear Mr. Harrow,” he said with sickening delight, “I am overjoyed to inform you that I already have succeeded. My business with Flamel is old. Personal. And now—you will leave the forest and go back to bed. Shoo, shoo.”
Peter didn’t budge.
He raised his wand.
“Stupefy!”
Edward lunged behind a massive tree, the spell hitting bark with a flash of light.
Comments
Post a Comment