June, the season when the weather begins to turn hot.
As the end of term quietly approached, the skies themselves seemed to resonate with the occasion. For several days, Hogwarts had been held captive beneath the scorching sun, and the air shimmered with a kind of ineffable tension and restless anticipation.
One might say that everyone's feelings were complicated and finely balanced.
Outside the castle walls, the scenery grew more breathtaking with each passing day, yet within the grounds, gently warmed by the summer heat, the younger witches and wizards found it difficult to enjoy the usual delights and freshness of the season.
After all, everyone knew that June meant the arrival of final exams, a prospect few young witches or wizards truly welcomed.
Of course, there were exceptions.
For those diligent students who had toiled tirelessly through the year, mastering spells and reading books, exam week was akin to a long-awaited feast finally set before them. Their eyes gleamed with quiet confidence; the countless days and nights spent studying were about to bear fruit in the form of excellent results. This was the moment they had been eagerly awaiting all term.
Yet, not everyone met this challenge so calmly. Some, perhaps having left their studies until the last possible moment, found themselves overwhelmed by the towering pile of revision notes and the tangled web of magical theory. Anxiety etched itself deeply into their faces. A slightly higher number of such students could be found in Gryffindor House.
There were even a few who resorted to more dubious means, such as coaxing their families to pry for whispers of the exam questions. But for many, this would be the first time they tasted the bitter disappointment of discovering that even the most influential pure-blood connections were powerless here.
No one, not even the heirs of ancient wizarding families, could gain advance knowledge of the exam contents. Many in Slytherin wore grim, sour expressions over this fact, and some even found themselves the subject of sharp, sarcastic remarks from their Head of House, Professor Snape.
Meanwhile, Hufflepuff students prepared steadily but were known to spend the least average time in the library. Few realized that, in truth, Hufflepuffs were the most restless bunch of all.
Moreover, they lacked the ravenous hunger for top marks that drove others. Passing was their foremost goal, any better grades were unexpected blessings rather than necessities.
Their refreshingly uncompetitive attitude was unique across Hogwarts. That said, it did not mean they performed poorly. On the contrary, Hufflepuffs sometimes surpassed Slytherins and consistently boasted the fewest failing students in the entire school.
Ian had always suspected that alongside their steady exam approach, another reason for Hufflepuff victory lay in the fact that much of the holiday homework was quietly delegated to this diligent group of little badgers.
As the old wizarding saying went, "Repetition is the mother of success." The repeated tackling of professors' assignments from multiple perspectives helped lay a firm foundation beneath the Hufflepuffs' success.
Perhaps not even the Hufflepuffs themselves realized this truth. Meanwhile, Ravenclaw students had ascended to new heights of academic rigor in the final month.
For them, there were no merely "good" scores, only perfect ones. Every subject examined demanded flawlessness. This obsession was nearly universal among the blue and bronze.
Those cunning students who knew they could not achieve perfection employed all manner of stratagems, from subtle mental gambits to tactics reminiscent of the ancient wizarding treatise The Art of Magical Warfare, feigning "just taking a stroll" or "stepping outside for fresh air" to mislead and confound their peers.
It was not underhandedness so much as standard study warfare.
"What on earth are these lot doing? A few hours before the exams, and they're still skulking about revising? Are they trying to star in some 'late-bloomer prodigy' story at the last minute?"
Thanks to Grindelwald's fearsome predictions, Ian had spent a sleepless night. Rising early the following morning to prepare, the sky was still dark and hushed as he stepped out from the Room of Requirement.
Yet,
On his way back to the dormitory to change robes, he kept encountering classmates furtively studying in shadowy corners, being so stealthy that he thought they might be even more elusive than Professor Dumbledore himself.
One student concealed inside a grand chandelier greeted him with a cheery, "Morning, Little Professor!" and startled Ian thoroughly, especially because the student wore a cleverly painted cardboard mask that blended almost seamlessly into the chandelier's crystals.
The triangular shape, worn upside down, made Ian briefly wonder if he'd slipped into some twisted, haunted version of Hogwarts.
"What are you all doing?! Don't tell me you've started gambling on the final exams too?" Ian grumbled as he finally reached his dorm and noticed William's dark circles were worse than those of a boggart in full fright.
William's desk was buried beneath a mountain of books covering the entire semester.
The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, A Detailed History of Magic, Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, Dark Arts: A Self-Defense Manual, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi… Though William had long since memorised these volumes inside and out, he still worried every few hours that some crucial detail might have slipped his mind.
"Oh… right, we have an exam today." Ian muttered to himself.
And then there was Michael, who still looked as though he'd just rolled out of bed, his entire manner radiating a calm, unbothered air.
Not only had he not pulled an all-nighter, he hadn't even stirred until Ian strode over and gave him a firm nudge awake. This black-haired lad was probably the least anxious student in all of Ravenclaw.
"Aren't you going to launch a surprise attack before the battle?" Ian teased.
Michael slowly slid out of bed, casting a quick glance under the blankets, and seeing no books hidden there, confirmed that this roommate was indeed unlike the other scheming lads in their House.
"It's just an exam, no need to treat it like a duel to the death," Michael said with a relaxed shrug.
His attitude was remarkably calm. He truly hadn't been sneaking in secret study sessions, he'd simply paid more attention during the last few weeks of lessons.
In fact, as the term drew to a close, professors had ceased introducing new material altogether. Instead, they used class time to help students review and solidify everything they'd learned, preparing them for their final trials. In this regard, Hogwarts was not unlike many Muggle schools.
"Exams are the real battlefield," William finally closed his book and spoke seriously. "To make sure nothing goes awry, we must control every variable that might affect our grades."
As he said this, William took a deep breath and gently patted the stack of textbooks spread across his desk.
"I really think I can get all Os (Outsatnding). I've combed through these books over and over this past month. Surely the professors won't test us on anything beyond what's covered, right?"
He tried to sound confident, but anxiety still wove through his voice. Honestly, William resembled those Gryffindor students gripped by pre-exam nerves.
The difference was Gryffindors fretted over failing, whereas William was tense about not achieving the highest honours.
At Hogwarts, the grading scale ran as follows:
Outstanding (O), Exceeds Expectations (E), Acceptable (A), Poor (P), Dreadful (D), Troll (T).
"Relax. If you can't get all Os with that much effort, I doubt anyone else can," Ian said kindly, trying to reassure his roommate.
Yet, William let out a heavy sigh, sounding even more worried than before.
"It's not the same. Everyone has different talents. Even if I don't compare myself to someone as ridiculously gifted as you, I still fall short. Take Michael, he doesn't bother studying when he returns at night, yet last evening he caught several errors in my notes."
"That's the gap in talent. And I'm sure there are plenty like him at Hogwarts."
Truth be told, William's late nights and anxiety were hardly surprising. It was already hard enough having a monstrously gifted classmate like Ian; but to have another roommate who spent his days smiling, chasing after girls, and yet still learned faster? That would unsettle anyone's confidence.
"I am studying properly, you know," Michael mumbled as he brushed his teeth, clearly unmoved by William's stress. Just because he disliked revisiting lessons he already mastered didn't mean he wasn't preparing.
"Have you considered," Ian added, "that aside from me, Michael might be the only one in our year with grades better than yours?"
Ian had long recognised Michael's prodigious academic talents.
(To Be Continued…)
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