George and Fred had recently become uncharacteristically studious.
The reason? Douglas had shown them the table of contents from The Complete Guide to Magical Artifacts.
Inside were descriptions of all sorts of fascinating magical gadgets, from prank items to defensive tools—many of which matched ideas the twins had dreamed up themselves.
But there was a catch: Douglas told them he'd only hand over the book if they managed at least an "Acceptable" in every subject. He even promised to recruit Bill, Charlie, and Percy to help persuade Mrs. Weasley to let them study magical inventions in their spare time.
The twins were genuinely moved. They threw themselves into their studies, even going so far as to ask Percy for help in creating a truly grueling revision schedule.
The book itself was a rare find from Douglas's mysterious "system." It didn't just include the manufacturing secrets of Zonko's Joke Shop classics—it also contained blueprints for some of the very items George and Fred would one day sell at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
No wonder the book was irresistible. Even a tome like Compendium of Alchemy or Grand Treatise on Artifact Crafting wouldn't have gotten them to grovel before Percy. But this? This was their future.
Unfortunately, despite scouring his system, Douglas had never found a single copy of Harry Potter—it seemed the system had deliberately hidden that series away.
As exam season approached, tension at Hogwarts reached a fever pitch.
Even the common rooms grew quiet. Younger students tiptoed around, terrified of disturbing the fifth-years who were cramming every fact they could into their brains.
Defence Against the Dark Arts was a rare exception. Douglas had been piling on the pressure since the start of term, and the syllabus had been finished a month early. That left plenty of time for review, and Douglas used it to fill in any gaps from previous lessons.
But in other subjects, the sudden ramp-up in workload left some students on the verge of collapse. More than one broke down in tears during class—thankfully, the ever-prepared Madam Pomfrey had calming draughts ready.
The only real chance for students to relax before exams came on the second weekend of May: the Quidditch Cup final.
Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff.
To help everyone unwind, Douglas closed the practical classroom for the weekend. Those who wanted to watch the match could do so; those who preferred shopping were free to go.
Douglas himself went to cheer for Hufflepuff.
In the stands, the mood among Slytherins was complicated. On one hand, they wanted Hufflepuff to win—after all, everyone was using the latest broomsticks, and Slytherin had already lost to Gryffindor. If Hufflepuff lost too, it would be like admitting that even the best brooms couldn't beat true skill and teamwork.
But on the other hand, a Hufflepuff victory would mean Slytherin was worse than Hufflepuff—a blow to their pride. They still insisted their narrow loss to Hufflepuff had been pure bad luck.
To amp up the atmosphere, Douglas had several older Hufflepuffs work together to cast the Marking Manifestation Charm, painting a massive Hufflepuff crest and a lively badger in the sky above the stands.
Compared to that, Gryffindor's banners—just a few bedsheets strung together—looked downright pitiful.
The sight sent the Hufflepuff players into a frenzy.
The match lasted a full hour. Harry's Quidditch talent was undeniable, but Hufflepuff Seeker Cedric Diggory used his broom's superior speed to snatch the Golden Snitch first, securing a fifty-point victory for Hufflepuff.
Harry was devastated.
In the Slytherin stands, Draco Malfoy clapped and cheered when Harry missed the Snitch—until Slytherin captain Marcus Flint smacked him on the head.
"You're both Seekers riding Nimbus 2001s—so why could Hufflepuff win, but you lost?"
Draco, eyeing Flint's towering frame, wisely swallowed his excuses. If his father hadn't donated the brooms, he'd probably have gotten a lot worse than a smack. Scowling, he stalked off toward the castle with his cronies.
On the pitch, Hufflepuff's captain led his team over to the Gryffindor players.
The Gryffindors greeted them with smiles, offering genuine congratulations for Hufflepuff's performance.
Harry, the youngest, stood awkwardly to the side, feeling out of place.
To his surprise, the usually reserved Cedric approached him with a warm smile. "Hello, Harry. I'm Cedric Diggory. You're incredibly talented!"
Nearby, Gryffindor's female players—Angelina, Alicia, and Katie—burst into giggles, whispering behind their hands.
Harry, flustered, assumed Cedric was about to gloat.
But Cedric just grinned. "If my broom hadn't been faster, you'd definitely have caught the Snitch."
Seeing Cedric's sincere expression, Harry realized it wasn't mockery. He quickly replied, "No, you were brilliant. I mean it—you're a fantastic Seeker!"
Gryffindor captain Oliver Wood glanced at the height difference between the two Seekers and added, "Diggory, you really are outstanding. But I think next year Harry's progress will surprise you—he's only a second year, after all."
On the sidelines, George and Fred whispered to each other.
"Oliver must be gutted—look at him, forcing a smile."
"Only one more year left for him…"
The days grew hotter, and the exams drew ever closer.
The academic atmosphere on campus became more intense than ever. Some students even saw the Hogwarts sky at four in the morning for the first time.
Even Harry, frustrated as he was, had to put his training plan on hold and throw himself into revision—much to Hermione's relief.
She hadn't expected Harry to have such a knack for spells. By second year, he could already cast the Eye-Stinging Hex, Shield Charm, and Trip Jinx.
Thankfully, the exams and then summer holidays were almost here; otherwise, Hermione wasn't sure how much longer Harry would have kept up his magical studies.
June 1st marked the start of final exam week for every year, as well as O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. week.
For the regular year-end exams, Hogwarts professors wrote and supervised their own tests. O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, however, were administered by the Wizarding Examinations Authority.
When Douglas entered the Great Hall, he spotted a cluster of elderly witches and wizards gathered together.
Dumbledore was chatting animatedly with a hunched, spiderweb-wrinkled witch.
Douglas hurried over to greet the professors sent by the Examinations Authority.
"Professor Marchbanks, Professor Tofty… It's been a while. I'm Douglas Holmes—"
Before he could finish, the hunched witch, Professor Griselda Marchbanks, called out in a booming voice, "Holmes! I remember you! I personally examined your Transfiguration and Charms for your N.E.W.T.s. The tricks you did with your wand were even more impressive than Dumbledore's in his day!"
Douglas shot Dumbledore an awkward smile.
Her voice was so loud that half the students at the long tables—straining to overhear any exam gossip—caught every word.
Immediately, everyone began to wonder: just what had Professor Holmes done in his exams to outshine Dumbledore?
Professor Tofty, his voice creaky with age, chuckled, "Haha, when I first heard you'd joined Hogwarts, I thought you'd become the Transfiguration professor!"
Before Douglas could reply, another professor—who'd examined Douglas's N.E.W.T. Defence Against the Dark Arts—interrupted, sounding faintly disgruntled.
"Tofty, don't forget, his Defence Against the Dark Arts scores were outstanding too—especially in combat. That year, there were two promising candidates who didn't join the Auror Office. Alastor—Alastor Moody, the former Head Auror—complained to me about it more than once. Thank Merlin he retired that year."
He turned to Douglas. "When I heard you'd become Hogwarts' Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, I was thrilled. I'm looking forward to seeing your students' results. Hopefully, you'll send a few to the Auror Office this year—otherwise, Scrimgeour will be after me again. They haven't had any new prospects in two years…"
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