"Time's up."
Umbridge's syrupy-sweet voice echoed through the Great Hall.
The rustling stopped instantly.
"Everyone stand up. Take one step back. Leave your papers on the tables."
The students rose in unison.
No one complained.
No one groaned.
They did not look like students who had just finished their monthly exams.
They looked like veterans who had just withdrawn from the trenches after intense fighting.
Their eyes were numb yet alert.
The parchment rose on a magical breeze.
It stacked itself neatly on the chief examiner's desk.
That was the thickness of her achievements in office.
The air in the Castle corridors filled their nostrils, carrying the damp, cold smell of stone walls.
Hermione pulled her schoolbag strap higher onto her shoulder.
She turned to look at Harry and Ron beside her.
"The spell frequency decay in question three," Hermione said very quietly. "Did you use the logarithmic formula or a linear derivation?"
"Logarithmic." Ron leaned against a corner of the wall, looking utterly exhausted.
"A linear derivation produces errors when the interval between casts exceeds five seconds," Harry added offhandedly, his glasses slightly askew.
"Very good." Hermione nodded.
A passing Ravenclaw student glanced at them and hurried away.
Neville squeezed through the crowd.
His outer robe hung open, and a fine layer of sweat beaded his forehead.
"Neville."
Harry called out to him.
"You don't look too well."
Ron straightened up. This was very unusual for the robustly healthy Neville.
"I'm fine."
Neville took a deep breath.
"Better than ever."
He lowered his head and looked at his hands, roughened by years of handling a longsword.
"That final essay question." Neville's voice was a little hoarse. "I wrote twenty inches. I even filled the edges of the parchment."
Hermione froze for a moment.
"That goes beyond the scope of