A Bookworm Who Was Actually Nice

Black silently told himself that it was only an Ancient Runes assignment. Even if he got every answer wrong, how many points could they possibly deduct?

Besides, classwork could at most cost house points. It had nothing to do with the final exams at the end of the year.

Even if he died, even if he jumped from the sixth floor, he would never ask King or James for help!

Yet just before class ended, Babbling suddenly announced a decision:

"Everyone must hand in today's classwork before leaving. Anyone who gets every answer right will not have to do this week's assignment. For every wrong answer, add one foot to this week's essay. Anyone who gets more than seven wrong must stay behind to clean."

Black looked at the paper with its fifteen translation questions. Setting aside the first and second questions King had just pointed out as wrong, if he got all thirteen remaining questions wrong, that would mean a thirteen-foot essay...

Was she trying to make him write a book?

After weighing the humiliation of bowing his head to Potter against bowing his head to King, Black turned back around.

"Um... ahem, King, could you help me see how many questions I got wrong? You don't need to teach me. Just take a look."

Manus pulled his attention away from his notes and glanced at it.

"You got ten wrong."

???

"You didn't even look properly!"

"The third question, the fourth question, the—"

"Okay, I believe you, you don't need to say any more TAT!"

Using the paper as a reference, Black measured out how long ten feet was, then considered how large he could write without having it sent back for rewriting... In the end, he still stumbled over to Manus for help.

Manus: Why was Black