Exams Begin

When Luo Bin returned to the dormitory, Draco was still awake. He rushed over. "Was Norbert really sent away? Did the people who picked him up seem easy to get along with? Did Hagrid pack the toy I gave him? What if it rains on the way? Did Charlie's friends bring umbrellas?"

The barrage of questions made Luo Bin's head ache. "Relax. Everything's been taken care of. But your loyal follower—Vincent Crabbe—did something big tonight!"

"He... did what?"

Don't tell me Filch caught him sneaking into the kitchen to steal little cakes.

Draco wanted to press him, but Luo Bin had already climbed into bed and closed his eyes. With a cold snort, Draco hugged his dragon plush and went back to his own bed.

The next day, when Gryffindor and Slytherin students passed the giant hourglasses recording the House Cup scores, they thought something had broken. How had they lost fifty House Points overnight?

Word gradually spread that Crabbe had made up a story about a dragon to lure Neville into wandering the castle at night. Nobody understood what grudge Crabbe held against Neville, or why Neville had believed there was really a dragon in the castle. That did not stop them from gossiping about it—or shunning both boys.

The Main Character Group understood how wronged Neville felt. They quietly encouraged him, called him the hero who had saved Norbert, and even lured Madam Hooch away from supervising his punishment so they could secretly help him dust the brooms.

Crabbe had it worse. Draco gave him such a fierce dressing-down that he had to attend classes with a shiny bald head for the next month. While he labored over cleaning the broom shed, his friend Goyle sat nearby eating little cakes and watching him work. Goyle called it "keeping him company out of love," which infuriated Crabbe!

A week later, the punishments ended, and the lost points gradually slipped from everyone's minds. They were all too busy studying.

As the exams drew closer, the students grew more and more tense. Young wizards hurried through the corridors with their robes flying, barely stopping to nod hello even when they met a friend.

Stop for a chat?

No. They could memorize another line of a spell in that time!

The Main Character Group brought Neville along and staked out the seats by the window in the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione picked out the key topics for the exams and insisted that Harry, Ron, and Neville learn them by heart.

Luo Bin, meanwhile, was busy until late every night. He had to study, dodge Draco so he could feed Xiao Ying the Flower Fairy, attend Quidditch practice, and finish the private assignments Snape had given him.

Even then, he set aside an hour each night to meditate. Improving his knowledge and spellcasting technique was not enough; he had to increase his reserves of magic, too.

Time flew by. June had barely begun when the blazing sun settled high overhead, leaving the castle hot and stuffy.

In that maddening weather, which made it almost impossible to concentrate, the final exams quietly began.

The written exams were straightforward. In a large classroom, each student received a new quill enchanted to prevent cheating. If they knew an answer, they wrote it down; if they did not, they left it blank. Nobody guessed, because correct answers earned points, wrong answers lost points, and blanks counted for nothing.

After every exam, Hermione left Ron and Harry behind and hurried over to Luo Bin to compare their answers to every question.

When their answers matched exactly, she cheered with delight. When they differed, she dug in her heels, combing through textbooks and library books until she found out who was right!

"It's awful, isn't it? We've already handed in the papers, but she keeps making us go over them again and again. Ugh, it's so annoy—ow!"

As Ron discovered, saying nasty things behind someone's back was a bad idea. The person he was talking about might hit him over the head with a thick book.

"Luo Bin, don't listen to Ron. We have practical exams this afternoon. Let's use our lunch break to review the important parts!"

They had spent days doing nothing but writing, and Luo Bin's wrist ached from it. A little practice would not hurt. "Sure. Harry, Ron, you two coming?"

"No. I'd rather get some rest and go in with a clear head than cram at the last minute!" Ron said with a yawn.

"I'd love to join you, but I still haven't memorized half the material for History of Magic. You know how it is—all those historical figures have similar names, but they each did different great things. Sorting them out is just too hard!"

"Harry, I taught you how to do this. Draw a timeline as a tree. Each main branch represents a century, each smaller branch a decade, and each leaf a year. Then write the year, the name, the event, and the result on each leaf. It's simple!" Hermione said, counting on her fingers.

"You call that simple? That's the funniest joke I've heard all year!"

"Ron, I'm teaching him a way to remember things. Don't interrupt!"

Seeing that another argument was about to start, Harry grabbed Ron. Luo Bin caught on and said, "Hermione, didn't you want to practice for the practical exams? Let's hurry to the Great Hall, eat quickly, and claim a spot on the lawn!"

"Right! He made me so angry I nearly forgot. Come on, Luo Bin. We're leaving those two behind!"

With that, she linked her arm through Luo Bin's, lifted her chin, and stalked off.

"Harry, look at her acting all haughty. I... I'd love to cast Petrificus Totalus on her!" Ron said through gritted teeth.

"Come on. You know what Hermione's like. Besides, if you two actually dueled, she'd probably petrify you before you even got your wand out!"

Harry was probably right, but Ron still refused to admit it. He made a series of gestures at Hermione's retreating back before following Harry slowly to the Great Hall.

That afternoon came the practical exams!

Professor Flitwick stood at the door and let the young wizards into the classroom one at a time. The task was to make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. The straighter its path and the better its rhythm, the higher the score.

Harry Potter was naturally gifted—the kind of student who could half-listen in class and still perform a spell well.

The pineapple in front of him danced with light, cheerful steps, and its path was not too crooked.

Ron had a rougher time. His pineapple fell off the desk several times, losing several of the jagged green leaves on top. The professor overseeing the exam could only shake his head.

But Neville had it worst. After he cast his spell, an arm and a leg sprouted from each end of his pineapple. Thud, thud! It lumbered like a heavy rock, making the desk rattle, until it fell to the floor with a splat and turned into pineapple pie!

"Professor, could I take the exam again?" Neville asked timidly, sniffling.

"Oh, you poor thing. Failing once doesn't mean you'll never succeed. But everyone gets only one attempt. Letting you try again would be unfair to the others. Go on back now," the professor told him gently.

The second practical exam was Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall gave each student a mouse and told them to turn it into a snuffbox. The finer the box and the more original its design, the higher the score.

In the exam room, Luo Bin narrowed his eyes at the little mouse on his desk. Its short fur was a dusty gray, its tail long and thin. A tiny pink nose, no bigger than a mung bean, sat at the tip of its pointed snout. What did it have in common with a snuffbox?