Examination

Loren was quite confident about the exam for the Animagus class.

Hermione spent the entire holiday with him studying, giving him quizzes and helping him fill in any gaps in his knowledge. They reviewed almost everything they could find several times.

That's why he was a little surprised when he heard Hermione was going to ask Professor McGonagall for help two days before the exam.

There have been precedents for the Transfiguration Club, but never for the Animagus class. The young wizards used as a reference were all members of the Transfiguration Club, so their foundation was solid.

Loren guessed that this exam might be more difficult.

After the A History of Magic class, Seamus, Dean, and the others, relieved of their exams, happily went out to play. Loren and the others had someone take their textbooks back to the Gryffindor Common Room while they hurried off to the exam hall.

"Summon, vanish, Transfiguration..."

"Dew... saliva... Death's-head hawkmoth..."

"Amado, Animo, Animado, Animagus".

As always, Hermione was rapidly reciting various terms and jargon, both excited and nervous. She had reviewed everything she needed to, but she was also afraid of missing something.

Beside him was another Neville, clutching a red Memory Charm, unable to recall what knowledge he had forgotten, and could only recite it from beginning to end.

The two of them kept nagging like they were chanting a mantra, giving Harry and Ron, who hadn't studied much, a headache.

Loren had been quite hypnotized in the last class, and was leaning against the corridor wall, yawning lazily.

Waiting outside like them were Draco, the Twins, Percy and Penelope, Cedric, Marcus, and others. The upperclassmen were more composed, huddled in small groups, chatting about things unrelated to the exam.

The bell rang, and everyone entered the examination room, sitting quietly in their respective seats while waiting for the exam papers to be distributed.

Blank parchment sheets paired with silver-inlaid anti-cheating quills were distributed to the young wizards, somewhat like the process for final exams.

The exam primarily tested knowledge of the Animagus, interspersed with some basic principles of Human Transfiguration. The difficulty level was moderate, and it examined the application of Transfiguration theory and some subtle points of knowledge in detail.

It wasn't difficult for Loren; he completed the basic section of the exam in less than an hour out of the three-hour time limit.

The last few questions tested their understanding of Animagus, requiring analysis of real-world cases, and listing them one by one took some extra time.

As you work on it, things get interesting—

The reading material for the last major question took up more than half a page, and the requirements were rather vague, making it somewhat like a subjective question.

"Babbitty Rabbitty and Her Cackling Stump" is a classic chapter in magical stories. Please read the original text carefully, analyze the Witch's use of the Animagus, and point out any patterns in the story that do not conform to the Animagus.

[Reading materials are at the end of the article]

It doesn't feel like a question set by the rigorous Professor McGonagall; it's more like Dumbledore's style.

Why is it interesting? Like the Christmas gift Dumbledore gave him, * the Wizard and His Hairy Heart (Collector's Edition)*, this story is also from * the Tales of Poet Beedle the Bard *. Influenced by the Fountain of Fountain of Good Fortune and the Warlock's Humbled Heart, Loren specifically dug out all the stories in the book and read through numerous reviews and interpretations.

Most scholarly interpretations and reviews focus on the symbolic meaning of the wizard teasing the Muggle king, attempting to prove the stupidity of Muggle, the social environment of Poet Beedle's time, and Poet Beedle's Pure-blood tendencies.

Occasionally there are comments on magic, but the focus is always on resurrection. Apart from naive young wizards in their student days, most adult wizards do not think highly of Animagus magic. To skillfully and naturally transform from a human into an animal requires long-term study and practice, and they believe that it is more valuable to spend time on other things.

This question isn't difficult. The Witch Babbitty's use of the Animagus was to turn into a rabbit and hide in a tree stump when being chased.

There are two things that don't fit the Animagus: first, the transformed animal cannot speak; second, the transformed animal does not have the ability to cast magic.

After writing the last word, he casually tossed the quill into the inkwell. Loren immediately wanted to hand in his paper early, but when he looked up and saw Professor McGonagall's imposing gaze, he was forced to abandon the idea and remained idly in his seat, looking around.

Hermione, who was to the right, was still engrossed in answering questions. Given the little Witch's personality, she wanted to write down every single point of knowledge. In addition, she was always careful to make her handwriting neat, so it was normal for her to be a little slow.

Cedric and Percy were in a similar situation, but because they had more exam experience, they were progressing slightly faster Hermione. Neville, although only halfway through the exam and the slowest, wasn't getting stuck on any particular section, so he seemed to be doing alright.

The most unexpected thing was that Harry and Ron had already finished and, like Loren, were idly looking around.

After the exam, the group walked out of the classroom together.

Loren put his hands on Harry and Ron's shoulders. "I didn't realize you two were faster than Hermione."

Harry scratched his head, somewhat embarrassed, and said, "No, I left most of it blank. I can't remember anything at all, so I can only sit here and stare blankly."

Turning to Ron, he puffed out his chest with a touch of pride. "I put down my pen before Harry!"

Friday afternoon was the second Herbology Class for second-grade students since the start of the school year, and it was the only Herbology Class of the entire afternoon.

The last Herbology Class was a theoretical lesson, and we also collected their holiday homework, so this was their first time in the Greenhouse this semester.

The young wizards of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were already waiting outside the Third Greenhouse, hoping that Professor Sprout would dismiss them early because of their good behavior, so they could have plenty of time to play on the Edge of the Forbidden Forest for the afternoon.

Harry and Ron paced nervously at the door. Judging from the timeline, Professor Sprout had already reviewed their papers. Whether they would be scolded or not depended on today.

"We have two tasks today. First, we need to prune the dead branches of the Abyssinian Shrivelfig seedlings. Some of their branches didn't survive the winter, and we need to cut off the withered and yellowed branches to prevent them from hindering the growth of healthy branches. Second, we need to collect enough hay for the Greenhouse Compost..."

Professor Sprout took a key from his waist that was thicker than his arm and opened the Greenhouse door.

The stench of Compost, mixed with the damp smell of soil, hit me. The Greenhouse, which had been closed for a holiday, had accumulated too much gas, creating a pressure difference between Greenhouse inside and outside. This caused small gusts of wind to blow outwards, and the stench went straight into my nose.

"Oh~" the little wizards wailed.

Amidst the wailing, two oddballs emerged: Harry and Ron covered their mouths and chuckled, their shoulders shaking incessantly.

"You really like this stench?" Loren asked with a strange expression.

"No, no." Harry chuckled again. "Professor Sprout didn't say anything, which means our paper passed."

Ron chuckled again.

Upon entering the Greenhouse, various strange and unusual plants swayed their branches and vines slowly, much more sluggish than when the semester had just begun. Many herbaceous plants were even dormant, their roots buried in the soil, completely still.

Loren could sense a drowsy mood emanating from these plants, and he only perked up a bit when Professor Sprout came in.

The pruning of the Abyssinian Fig seedlings was done inside the Greenhouse, while the collection of hay had to be done in the meadow outside. The stench inside the Greenhouse spurred the young wizards to hurry up; they all hoped to finish pruning as soon as possible and go outside to cut grass... and get some fresh air.

Neville glanced at Seamus beside him, whose scissors were flying so fast they were almost blurry, cutting through the yellow and green leaves of the fig seedlings, scattering them in a flurry. Dean didn't even have time to pick up the fallen leaves before the next fig seedling was being ravaged.

Neville opened his mouth, but before he could say anything.

Turning his head again, he saw Harry and Ron next to him making almost the exact same movements, their scissors flashing as fig seedlings and leaves fell indiscriminately, yellow and green.

Harry noticed his gaze, turned his head slightly to look at him, and asked in a puzzled tone, "Is there a problem?"

Neville shrank back and said weakly, "The professor said to only prune the withered branches."

"I know," Harry answered crisply, and his scissors fell even faster.

"..."

Neville looked around. Hufflepuff House was in a better position, but most of the Gryffindor House had shaved the fig seedlings completely bald.

Only Loren and Hermione were different; although they were also quick, they strictly followed the professor's instructions.

With a long sigh, Neville could only console himself that perhaps the fig seedlings without side branches would develop better...

He quietly made a plan to come and water and fertilize these fig seedlings regularly in the future.

Beside another platform, Hannah of Hufflepuff watched from afar. Neville's cautious and slow figure seemed out of place compared to the fast-moving crowd around him.

In short, thanks to the combined efforts of the young wizards, in less than thirty minutes, more than half of the dozens of Assippia Shrivelfig seedlings on the two square seedbeds were destroyed. They were all shaved bald, leaving only a bare main stem standing there.

The first task was completed too quickly, so the second task became less demanding, with the young wizards from both houses occasionally throwing grass into the Compost Pit.

On the grass next to the Greenhouse, Loren, Hermione, Harry, and Ron sat together in a circle, with Rolf nearby. They were all tending to the Bowtruckle, Little Button.

The little green man, whose body was made of leaves and twigs, shyly hid behind a blade of grass. Its color almost blended into the grass. Loren tried to coax it out with fresh grass leaves, but it wouldn't come out.

Rolf was utterly exasperated. "I remember telling you from the beginning that Bowtruckle eat small insects."

"I know, you said it's omnivorous too." Loren was still not giving up. "I've tried it, this grass is sweet, and it tastes good."

The amount of information in his words was so great that it left everyone watching speechless.

Hermione looked at him with a complicated expression. "Did you discover this sweet grass right away, or have you tasted a lot of grass?"

"Um..."

As they were laughing and joking, a chubby little boy with blond hair and a high nose approached.

Bowtruckle the Button was the first to hear the footsteps. He quickly hid in Loren's sleeve, tugging at the cuff and peeking out with his little head.

Ernie Macmillan crouched down next to Harry, staring straight at him, taking a deep breath as if he had been preparing for this scene for a long time.

He said very formally, "All I want to say is, Harry, I'm sorry I ever doubted you. I apologize for all the nonsense I said before, and I sincerely hope to receive your forgiveness."

Ernie extended a short, chubby hand, which Harry shook. "You know what? You picked a good time. I happen to be in a good mood right now because Professor Sprout didn't scold me for my paper."

Hearing this witty remark, Ernie knew the matter was over and a relaxed smile appeared on his face.

Ron, on the other hand, didn't seem to forgive Ernie as readily as Harry did, and said indifferently, "You're quite clever."

Ernie, shameless, ignored the remark and sat down in the small circle with his friend Hannah. The little Bowtruckle had no choice but to stay in Loren's sleeve, letting this wicked man keep poking its face with grass.

Although Rolf is Hufflepuff's son, he is more mature and doesn't interact much with Ernie, who loves to gossip. Instead, he is more familiar with Justin, Justin is currently in the hospital.

The situation became a little awkward for a moment.

"What were you talking about just now?" Hannah and Loren weren't strangers; they had interacted before because of Frozen Pear.

"Besides, the roots of this grass are sweet and taste good." Loren broke off a fresh root, peeled off the outer layers of grass, and handed it to her.

Hannah, being a carefree girl, believed it without hesitation. She casually took the grass root, popped it into her mouth, and exclaimed in surprise, "It really is sweet!"

"You should try some too." Loren tore off a large handful and handed it directly to Ernie, which was still covered in dirty dirt.

Ernie's face darkened instantly. He didn't take the grass, but squeezed out a dry sentence from his throat. "I... I still have to help with the Compost. I'm leaving now."

Seeing his disheveled figure, Ron let out a few abrupt laughs from his tightly closed mouth, but then, realizing Hannah was beside him, he swallowed them back.

Hannah chuckled softly, not seeming to care much about it. "I'm looking for Neville. Do you know where he is?"

"Over there, he's cutting grass over there."

After watching the little girl walk away, Hermione turned around and patted Loren on the shoulder, scolding him playfully, "You little rascal, you were teasing him on purpose."

"You should leave now that you've apologized. Harry has forgiven him, so what's the point of crowding here?" Loren slowly pulled Little Button out of his sleeve and poked its little head.

"Exactly!" Ron nodded repeatedly.

Rolf rescued Button from Loren and asked him about the Basilisk.

——

The following content is free of charge.

——

The Tales of Poet Beedle the Bard: Babbitty Rabbitty and Her Cackling Stump

Long, long ago, in a very, very far place, lived a foolish king who believed that only he should possess the power of magic.

Therefore, the king ordered the Captain of the Army to form a Witch-Hunting Squad and assigned them a pack of fierce black hounds. At the same time, he also issued a proclamation throughout the towns and villages of the kingdom. "The king is seeking a magic instructor."

The real wizards dared not apply for the job; they all evaded the Witch-Hunting Squad. However, a cunning charlatan who knew no magic saw an opportunity to make money. He came to the palace, claiming to be a highly skilled wizard. The charlatan performed a few simple tricks, and the foolish king believed him to be a true magician, immediately appointing him as the Chief Grand Sorcerer and the King's Personal Magic Master.

The charlatan demanded a large bag of gold from the king, which he used to buy wands and other magical necessities. He also asked for several large rubies, claiming they were for completing Healing Spells; and one or two silver goblets, saying they were for storing and brewing Potions. The foolish king provided him with all of these things.

The swindler stored the treasure in his home and then returned to the palace gardens.

Unbeknownst to him, an old woman living in a small hut by the garden was watching him. The old woman, Babbitty Babbitt, was a washerwoman responsible for washing the palace sheets and blankets until they were soft, white, and fragrant. Peeking from behind the drying sheets, Babbitty witnessed the charlatan break two branches from one of the king's trees and then enter the palace.

The charlatan handed a tree branch to the king, confidently claiming it was an incredibly powerful magic wand.

"However," the charlatan said, "It will only work when you are qualified."

Every morning, the charlatan and the foolish king would leave the palace and go to the garden, waving their wands and shouting nonsense at the sky. The charlatan would then carefully perform a few more tricks to convince the king that he, the great magician, was indeed highly skilled and that the wand he had acquired at such great expense was truly powerful.

One morning, the charlatan and the king were waving their branches, jumping around in circles, and chanting meaningless verses when a burst of loud laughter reached the king's ears. The washerwoman, Babbitty, was watching the king and the charlatan from her little hut window. She laughed so hard she could barely stand and quickly disappeared out the window.

"I must have looked incredibly undignified to have made that old woman washing clothes laugh like that!" said the king. He stopped jumping and waving the branch, and instead frowned. "I'm tired of practicing! Wizard, when will I be able to perform a real spell before my subjects?"

The charlatan tried to comfort his student, assuring him that he would soon perform amazing magical feats, but little did he know that Babbitty's cacophony of laughter had deeply wounded the foolish king.

"Tomorrow," the king said, "We will invite all our courtiers to watch the king perform magic!"

The conman knew his time had come and he had to abscond with his fortune.

"Oh dear, that's impossible! I forgot to tell Your Majesty that I have to go on a long trip tomorrow—"

"If you leave the palace without my permission, sorcerer, my Witch-Hunting Squad will bring you back with their hounds! Tomorrow morning you must assist me in performing magic for my nobles; if anyone laughs at me, I will cut off your head!"

The king stormed back to the palace, leaving the charlatan standing there in a panic. Now all his cunning and shrewdness were useless; he could neither escape nor help the king perform the magic neither of them possessed.

To vent his fear and anger, the conman went to the window of the washerwoman Babbitty. He peered inside and saw the little old woman sitting at a table, polishing a magic wand. In the corner behind her, the king's sheets were being automatically washed in a wooden tub.

The conman immediately realized that Babbitty was a real Witch who had brought him terrible trouble, but could also save him from danger.

"You withered old hag!" the charlatan roared. "Your cacophony of laughter is going to kill me! If you can't help me, I'll expose you as a Witch, and then you'll be the one torn to pieces by the king's hounds!"

Old Babbitty looked at the conman with a smile and assured him that she would do everything in her power to help him.

The charlatan instructed her to hide in the bushes and, while the king performed his magic, to complete all the spells for him, but without letting the king know. Babbitty agreed to the plan, but asked one question.

"Sir, what if the king wants to cast a spell that Babbitty doesn't know?"

The charlatan scoffed at it.

"Your magic is more than enough to deal with that fool's imagination," he assured her, then returned to the Castle, smugly pleased with himself.

The next morning, all the princes and nobles of the kingdom gathered in the palace gardens. The king ascended a stage before them, with the charlatan standing beside him.

"First, I want this lady's hat to disappear!" the king declared loudly, pointing a branch at a noblewoman.

From the nearby bushes, Babbitty pointed her wand at the hat, and it vanished. The audience was astonished and full of praise; their cheers were deafening, and the king was overjoyed.

"Next, I will make that horse fly!" the king shouted, pointing at his warhorse with his branch.

Babbitty hid in the bushes and pointed her wand at the horse, which flew high into the sky. The audience became even more excited and astonished, loudly expressing their admiration for the king's superb magical skills.

"Now—" The king looked around for his target, just as the leader of the Witch-Hunting Squad ran up to him.

"Your Majesty," said the squad leader, "This very morning, Saber ate a poisonous mushroom and died! Your Majesty, use your wand to bring him back to life!"

As he spoke, the captain brought the carcass of the largest hunting dog from the Witch -hunting squad onto the stage.

The foolish king waved his branch, pointing it at the dead dog. Meanwhile, in the bushes, Babbitty smiled slightly, not raising his wand, for no magic could bring the dead back to life.

Seeing the dead dog motionless, the people initially whispered, then burst into laughter. They suspected that the king's first two magic tricks were merely illusions.

"Why doesn't it work?" the king shouted at the charlatan, who then remembered his last remaining trick.

"Yes, Your Majesty, yes!" he shouted, pointing to the bushes where Babbitty was hiding. "I saw it clearly, an evil Witch, who blocked your magic with her wicked spell! Seize her, men, seize her!"

Babbitty escaped from the bushes, and the Witch-Hunting Squad immediately gave chase. They released their hounds, which barked and followed Babbitty's scent. But the little Witch ran to a low fence and vanished in an instant. When the king, the charlatan, and all the courtiers circled around to the other side of the fence, they found the Witch -hunting hounds barking and scratching at a crooked old tree.

"He turned himself into a tree!" the charlatan exclaimed, fearing that Babbitty would reveal his true identity once she turned back into a woman, and then added, "Chop her down, Your Majesty! That's how you deal with evil Witch!"

An axe was brought immediately, the old tree was chopped down, and the charlatans and courtiers cheered loudly.

But just as they were about to return to the palace, a loud croaking sound suddenly rang out, and they stopped in their tracks.

"Fool!" Babbitty's shout came from the stump of the tree that had just been cut down.

"Chopping wizards in half won't kill them! If you don't believe me, pick up an axe and chop the great wizard in half!"

The leader of the Witch-Hunting Squad was eager to conduct the experiment, but as soon as he raised the axe, the charlatan fell to his knees, screaming and begging for his life, confessing to his evil deeds. As he was dragged to the dungeon, the stump burst into laughter again, louder than ever before.

"By cutting a Witch in two, you have placed a terrible curse on your kingdom!" the stump said to the dumbfounded king. "From now on, every bit of harm you inflict on our wizards will be like an axe striking your own body, ultimately making you wish you were dead!"

Upon hearing this, the king knelt down and told the tree stump that he would immediately issue a proclamation to protect all the Witch in the kingdom and allow them to practice magic in peace.

"Very well," said the stump, "But you haven't made amends to Babbitty yet!"

"Anything is fine, anything is fine!" the foolish king cried, twisting his hands in front of the tree stump.

"You shall erect a statue of Babbitty on me in memory of your poor washerwoman, so that you may never forget your foolishness!" said the stump.

The king immediately agreed, promising to commission the nation's most renowned sculptor to create the statue from pure gold. Then, as the ashamed king and all the nobles returned to the palace, the tree stump was still laughing behind them.

When the garden was empty, a plump, whiskered old rabbit emerged from a hole at the base of the tree stump, a magic wand clenched between its teeth. Babbitty hopped and skipped away from the garden. From that time on, a golden statue of a washerwoman stood on that tree stump, and no wizard was ever persecuted again in the kingdom.