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When the 10th of June rolled round, Dumbledore was still missing. No grand entrance. No cryptic notes. Not even a beard sighting in the Great Hall. The castle had adjusted, more or less. The staff carried on like he was just out for a long walk... except no one really believed that. But OWLs weren't going to wait on a headmaster.
Monday morning kicked off with Charms written. The whole of fifth year trudged into the Great Hall, which had been cleared out and warded top to bottom. Anti-cheating enchantments buzzed faintly at the edge of hearing, scrolls were passed out by a stony-faced Madam Marchbanks, and the enchanted quills were already laid on the desks.
Harry dropped into his seat next to Daphne, giving a quick glance down the rows. Hermione was two tables up, already pulling out a spare quill even though the Ministry ones were enchanted not to break. Tracey was behind him, twirling her wand like she might try and charm the quill into doing the test for her.
"Right," Daphne muttered, unrolling her sleeves. "How long until someone cries?"
"Fifteen minutes," Harry guessed, checking the time. "Ten if they've skipped breakfast."
When the exam started, Harry skimmed the first page and resisted the urge to sigh.
Levitation Charm, Cheering Charm, and the counter-charm for hiccoughs.
He raised his eyebrows slightly and flipped the page just to check if there was a catch. There wasn't.
Across the table, Daphne gave him a look over the top of her quill... one that said seriously? without needing to speak. Harry shrugged back, amused more than annoyed.
He picked up the Ministry-issued quill, giving it a spin between his fingers before setting the tip to the parchment. Since first year, the plan hadn't changed... top every subject, build a reputation sharp enough to make the Ministry twitch, and carve out a space for himself so solid no one could touch it. Not Dumbledore. Not the Wizengamot. Not even Voldemort. Power came from being indispensable, and there was nothing more inconvenient than someone too skilled to sideline.
First question, describe the counter-effects of the Cheering Charm on different age groups.
He started writing.
By the time he was halfway through the third page, someone sniffled loudly two rows over.
Practical Charms followed after lunch. Flitwick was in full examiner mode... robes pressed, clipboard floating beside him like a dutiful assistant. The classroom had been cleared, leaving just a line of desks, a waiting area, and a marked square where each student stood for testing.
Harry waited until Tracey came back, muttering under her breath.
"Was it bad?" he asked.
She gave him a look. "I sneezed mid-Featherlight. Knocked the cushion into Professor Tofty's face."
"Bet that broke the tension."
"Nearly broke my grade," she muttered, plopping down beside Daphne.
Harry noticed straight away when Pansy's name was called alongside Parvati and Padma... and his wasn't. The list kept moving, names shuffling through the alphabet, and even Zabini was waved in with the last batch. Still, no "Potter."
If they were saving him for last, it meant Flitwick had made a polite argument for separating him from the rest to avoid rattling the curve.
When they finally called for him, there was no one else. Three examiners were already seated behind the long table, watching him like he'd just walked into a restricted section.
Tofty leaned forward, his pince-nez glinting a little in the lamplight. "So. The famous Potter."
Harry offered a polite nod and the faintest grin. "Just Harry will do, sir."
Flitwick gestured to a small table where a silver egg cup sat, dull and perfectly still. "The standard task: make the egg cup perform three cartwheels across the table. Once complete, the examiners may request additional demonstrations—if that's alright with you, Mr. Potter."
Harry gave an easy nod. "Of course, Professor."
He took his place, adjusted his grip slightly, and flicked his wand once.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
The egg cup rose smoothly, rotated mid-air, then began a neat sequence of slow cartwheels, one after the other. It landed on the far end of the table without a clatter, spun once on its base, and stilled.
Tofty scribbled something down. Another examiner cleared her throat.
"Colour change, please."
Harry shifted the grip of his wand. "Colovaria."
The silver turned bright orange in an instant, then Harry flicked again and ran through a spectrum—green, blue, pink, back to silver.
"Growth charm?" one said.
Harry pointed again, murmured, "Engorgio."
The egg cup expanded to the size of a cereal bowl before he shrank it back without needing the prompt. The examiners gave no reaction beyond more scribbles.
"Very good, Mr. Potter," said the third, voice clipped but not unfriendly. "Would you be comfortable showing more?"
Harry nodded. "Of course."
Flitwick smiled faintly and waved a hand. The egg cup floated away, replaced by a simple wooden mannequin. It wasn't full-size, only about four feet tall, but clearly meant to mimic a human target.
"We've heard quite a bit about you from Goshawk, Potter," said the older examiner at the centre, adjusting her spectacles as she looked over her parchment. "You spent the summer with her, and her protégé in South America, didn't you? She said you were rather talented when it came to spell variation."
Harry offered a quick smile, polite but not smug. "Compared to her? I'm still learning."
The witch to her left gave a short laugh. "Don't be too modest. Casting a corporeal Patronus in third year is no small feat. That alone would've passed you."
Harry chuckled lightly. "Well, I've picked up a few things since then."
"Filius mentioned you'd be willing to demonstrate beyond the standard set," another added, glancing down her notes. "Care to show us?"
Harry tilted his wand slightly in acknowledgement. "Certainly."
Harry lowered his wand, then slipped it back into his sleeve. The examiners looked ready to ask what he was doing, but before any of them opened their mouths, he raised his hand and cast.
A silver glow flared, smooth and silent.
From the tip of his fingers, a doe burst into form... sleek, graceful, fully corporeal. She didn't bolt or gallop. She walked, slow and unhurried, hooves silent on the flagstones, circling the room, as if to check every danger.
The examiners' quills stilled mid-scratch. Even Tofty leaned forward, eyes wide.
Then, just as the Patronus came to stand before Harry, she lowered her head... and melted. Not into smoke. Not into air. She shimmered, broke apart in streams of silver, and reformed around Harry in a second skin of light. The glow settled into a suit of protective shell, fitting snug over his arms, chest, even his boots. Transparent but solid-looking, like moonlight trapped in shape.
"Merlin's-" one of the examiners blurted out, standing up. "I-is that-?"
"Patronus Armour," Harry said, casually flexing his fingers inside the silvery glove. "It can block most curses. Haven't tried it against Unspeakables, obviously, but you are welcome to have a go."
Flitwick looked like Christmas had come early.
One of the witches had already taken out her wand. "You said it blocks curses? May I?"
Harry gave a nod. "Go ahead."
She didn't hesitate, fired off a low-level Stunning Spell.
The red bolt hit the glowing armour, but the impact didn't so much as jostle him. The light around the point of contact rippled slightly, then settled.
Another examiner tried a Blasting Hex. Same result. The armour shimmered, absorbed the magic cleanly.
Harry stretched his arms a bit. "Bit heavy after a while. Only lasts for a minute or two. Takes effort to keep going."
Tofty blinked, slowly lowering his quill. "How did you develop it?"
Harry tilted his head slightly. "Started with the Patronus... the emotional base. Rebuilt it through spell layering. It is an inefficient use of magical stamina, but it is quicker than raising three shields and dodging in tight spaces."
"Marvelous! Marvelous!" the older witch burst out, hands actually trembling with excitement. "What else can you do?"
Harry gave a small smile, "Depends how long you've got. I could juggle a few spells."
Flitwick looked like he might float clean off the floor with how pleased he was. One of the examiners laughed softly, jotting something down on the sheet in front of her.
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