Snape as Your Study Companion-Do You Want This Kind of Blessing?

Following the Career Advice, the fifth-grade students are about to face their most anticipated event: the WLs exam!

Just kidding, nobody would expect that, except maybe Academic Bully like Hermione.

Everyone was listless; they slumped over their desks with their arms crossed and heads hanging low, utterly unable to muster the energy to study.

It feels really unpleasant to be tense all year.

Fortunately, Professor Lupin's Defense Against the Dark Arts was always so innovative and well-received.

Everyone liked Professor Lupin; even the Slytherin students began to like this gentle and interesting professor.

Moreover, he possesses considerable real skills.

For most students, they've rarely encountered such a reliable Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Think about it: fifth, sixth, and seventh graders experienced Quirrell, the Two-Face who had his head glued to the back of his head, and those who experienced Umbridge...

How can we not cherish Professor Lupin as we are now?

Of course, Professor Lockhart —or rather, Ms. Rosier— wasn't bad either, but compared to Professor Lupin, she lacked a certain gentleness.

"My favorite subject right now is Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Abercrombie, excitedly.

If you were to choose the course he dislikes the most, then even if he didn't say it, everyone would know what course it was.

Yes, what else could a Gryffindor, besides Snape Gryffindor Potions Class?

"Sometimes I really want to cast a Head-Washing Charm on him," a second-year student muttered in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Although he didn't mention names, everyone knew who he was talking about.

Think about it, in Hogwarts, who needs to wash their hair? Even if you add all the students together, they don't need to think about it.

Ron is currently on a diet, which is something he does outside of studying, because he ate too much recently.

This has caused my body to become somewhat out of shape.

Losing weight isn't just about facing upcoming exams, it's also about facing the upcoming Quidditch Match —of course!

In Ron's words, he decided to start preparing for the Auror exams now.

"I've decided to take my talents to the Auror," Ron said to Harry, grimacing, as he trained Quidditch.

Then, Angelina knocked the broom off him with Bludger, and he fell to the ground with a thud.

"Sometimes I really wonder if Gryffindor women don't know what gentleness is."

Ron rubbed his nose, stood up, and sat back down on the broom, saying, "Look at Angelina, she's so violent. I really don't understand why George likes her. Is it just because she likes to hit people?"

"It's hard to say that George has this particular hobby," Harry said, Leviosa beside Ron.

Harry was just there to make up the numbers in the practice match. After all, he didn't need to train much to catch the Golden Snitch. The main focus of the practice match should be on training the goalkeeper, the Chaser, and the Chaser.

Harry didn't think catching the Golden Snitch in the practice match was of any use, but Angelina clearly didn't think so.

After the Quidditch practice match, Ron dejectedly carried his things to the Slytherin Headmaster's office.

After being baptized by Snape's fangs, he returned listlessly to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"You're the one who introduced Ron to that place, aren't you?" Hermione questioned Harry when Ron wasn't around.

"Haha, you caught me," Harry said with an awkward laugh. "But that's a good thing, Hermione. Think about it, although the two of them don't get along very well, Ron's weakness is Potions Class. Are there any other Potions Class Masters at Hogwarts?"

"Do you think Ron can learn anything real?" Hermione asked Harry with some skepticism.

"I don't know either," Harry said, shrugging.

"Look, Ron's back," Hermione said, pointing over there. "Look how listless he is—I can't even imagine what Professor Snape will do to him in his office."

"Don't pity me just because I'm a delicate flower," Harry said in a low voice.

"What?" Hermione asked, turning around.

"It's nothing," Harry said with a smile.

Ron sat back down, looked up at the sky at a 45-degree angle, and let out a long sigh.

"Hi." He scratched his fiery red hair. "For the first time, I feel that studying Potions is a happy thing—what do you guys think?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance.

Feeling guilty Harry stood up and left, leaving Hermione to comfort poor little Ron.

When Harry woke up the next morning, he found the two of them feeding each other in the Great Hall. Hermione was very considerate in feeding Ron, and Ron's expression was very irritating.

"Ha, this is the stench of being in love," Harry said, pursing his lips.

Hermione and Ron glanced at Harry but ignored him.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, sitting down beside him. "Why are you suddenly feeding Ron?"

"Because I got pricked by Professor Snape's Potions Class materials yesterday." Ron raised his right hand, which was swollen and looked rather comical, with his five fingers resembling five short, chubby little radishes.

"Oh, sorry." Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Go ahead and laugh." Ron sighed helplessly. "I don't know what that thing is either. Anyway, it was fine last night, but it turned out like this when I woke up this morning. I think I'll have to go to the Hospital Wing later and see Madam Pomfrey."

"Perhaps you could go to Professor Snape," Hermione said to Ron.

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Harry rolled his eyes. "You know what Professor Snape would say—'Oh, it seems our clever Mr. Weasley knew to call his poor old professor for help after getting a thorn in his hand—if only he had reported it last night.'"

He imitated her perfectly, and Hermione couldn't help but cover her mouth and laugh.

"Stop laughing." Ron sighed. "Alright, I'd better go see Professor Snape, after all, he's the Potions Class professor—yeah right, I have to go to the Hospital Wing to see Madam Pomfrey!"

However, Madam Pomfrey advised him to go see Professor Snape, which would allow him to suffer less.

Left with no other option, Ron sought help from Professor Snape. After enduring a long ordeal with Snape's fangs, Ron finally obtained the antidote.

After applying it to my arm, it returned to normal in just fifteen minutes.

"Sometimes I have to admit, Professor Snape was actually a good person," Ron said to Harry, seemingly enlightened. "Perhaps we've always misunderstood Professor Snape, or maybe, despite his obvious disdain and disdain for us, deep down he actually cared about us quite a bit?"

"Oh no!" Harry slapped his thigh. "It seems the illness has shot into his brain at Firebolt speed, and now the relentless disease is devouring his brain cells—"

"How many Butterbeer have you had to say that?" the Weasley twins remarked sarcastically from behind.

"Perhaps this Sickle have some effect on the brain?" Hermione asked Harry hesitantly. "Should we go see Professor Dumbledore?"

"No, why don't you believe me? You two?" Ron put down the ointment he was holding, glanced at the Twins, then at Hermione, and then at Harry. "Believe me, I really think Professor Snape is a good man!"

"If you're sick, go see a doctor as soon as possible, Ron," Neville said worriedly, looking at Ron. "Waiting like this isn't good for your health, don't you think?"

Ron took a deep breath.

He chose not to argue further.

As the O. W. Ls exams approach, Ron isn't the only one behaving strangely.

Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff developed an increasingly annoying habit of asking about other people's study schedules.

"How many hours do you think you can study a day?" he asked Harry and Ron anxiously as they lined up for Herbology Class.

"I don't know," Ron said, "Maybe a few hours."

"Is it more or less than eight hours?"

"I think it should be less," Ron said, a hint of wariness in his eyes.

"I can study for eight hours," Ernie said, puffing out his chest. "Eight to nine hours. I study for an hour before breakfast every day. That's an average of eight hours. If all goes well, I can study for ten hours on the weekend. I studied for nine and a half hours on Monday. Tuesday wasn't so good—only seven hours and fifteen minutes. Then Wednesday—"

"I'm not actually studying," Ron said seriously.

"You're kidding, right?" Ernie asked with a laugh.

"No, I'm serious, Ernie," Ron nodded earnestly. "Actually, reviewing or anything like that isn't really necessary."

I think we should focus our energy on key learning areas. What do you think?

"So what are you studying?" Ernie was completely taken aback by the question.

"Like Potions Class," Ron said, patting Ernie on the shoulder.

"You're kidding, Ron," Ernie said, a little annoyed. "Even if you're not going to tell me the truth, there's no need to lie!"

"No, it's true," Ron said. "I found a really great tutor to give me private lessons."

"Wow!" Ernie believed it immediately. He said enviously, "Really? You're so lucky, Ron— "

Ron interrupted him, "Do you really want the privilege of studying with Professor Snape?"

Ernie's eyes widened immediately.

"Well—" he said, "I'd rather not have that kind of luck, Ron. I think it's better for me to study on my own than to study with Professor Snape."

Reviewing? Or studying with Professor Snape?

Ernie really did think Ron was someone special.

At this point, Professor Sprout led them into the Greenhouse.

A thriving black market has emerged among fifth and seventh graders seeking to improve their concentration, mental acuity, and sleep quality.

Eddie Cammitchell, a sixth-grade student in Ravenclaw, wants to sell Neville and Seamus a bottle of Skele-Gro, which they are very interested in.

Eddie confidently asserted that he had achieved nine "excellent" grades in the O. W. Ls exam last summer, all thanks to this, and that a whole pint only cost twelve Galleon.

But before they could make the deal, Hermione confiscated Camiche's bottle and poured its contents down the toilet.

"You're so heartless," Seamus said, looking regretfully at the Skele-Gro in the toilet. "This stuff is actually quite useful to us, Hermione— "

"But this thing has obvious side effects, Seamus," Hermione said with a hint of exasperation. "While it will enhance your mental abilities, it will also leave you in a daze for a while. If I were you, I would never use this thing."

"Then why would Camitcher still try to sell us something like this?" Seamus asked, unwilling to give up.

"Because he wants to make money!" Hermione said helplessly.

Seeing that Seamus was still somewhat unwilling, Hermione added, "The ingredients list includes Pixie's dried dung. If you want to try it, I won't object."

Upon hearing this, Seamus finally stopped thinking about the Skele-Gro.

He doesn't want to become Finnegan.

Even if the Potions contained feces, he wouldn't want to try it.

Time flies, and June is here in the blink of an eye.

The castle grounds Winky in the sunlight, as if they had just been painted; the clear sky was reflected on the sparkling, calm lake; and the smooth, satin-green grass occasionally rippled in the gentle breeze.

For fifth-grade students, the arrival of June means only one thing: their O. W. L. exams are finally coming.

Teachers no longer assign homework; class time is used entirely to review questions that teachers believe are most likely to appear on the exam.

In the next Transfiguration Class, they learned about the timing of the O. W. Ls exam and the specific arrangements during the exam.

"As you can see," Professor McGonagall said as the students copied the exam dates and times onto the blackboard, "Your O. W. L. exams will last for two weeks. You'll have written exams in the morning and practical exams in the afternoon—and of course, your Astronomy practical exam is scheduled for the evening."

"Now, I must remind you that your exam papers have been subjected to the strictest anti-cheating measures. Self-correcting Quill are strictly prohibited from being brought into the exam hall, and there are also Remembrall, Concealable Cuffs, and Auto-correcting Ink. I'm afraid I should say that it seems like every year at least one student thinks they can evade the Wizengamot's regulations, and I just hope that Gryffindor doesn't have one."

As she said this, Professor McGonagall instinctively looked for the Weasley twins.

Seeing that it was a fifth-grade Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall shook her head with a self-deprecating smile.

Indeed, who else but the Weasley twins would dare to do that? Even if they behaved well on 0. WLs, it was only because they didn't want to, not because they were afraid.