Anthony opened the test paper and smiled. "Don't be so gloomy. If nearly half the class fails, it's definitely the teacher's problem. I'm not blaming you."
"Question one: Muggles and wizards are both human. Everyone got it right. Thank you."
"Question two: Why does the Hogwarts Express emit steam? The answer is it imitates Muggle steam engines. It has nothing to do with electricity. Don't just choose an option because you see 'electric' in it."
"Question three: Choose the incorrect option—aeroplane. We discussed aeroplanes when covering transportation. Muggle transport aeroplanes aren't electric. Again, don't just choose something because you see 'electric.' I've looked at past exam papers—examiners particularly love questions about whether things use electricity."
"Question four: What is the common currency of British Muggles? Pounds and pence. Muggles, students, Muggles—why would anyone choose Galleons and Sickles? Pay attention to the questions next time."
"Question five..."
Besides Anthony's explanations, the classroom held only the faint rustle of paper and the light scratching of quills. Anthony's analysis occasionally contained low victorious exclamations ("We guessed right!" the Weasley twins whispered), but these were quickly suppressed by dissatisfied looks from nearby classmates.
...
"Alright, we're done." Anthony rolled up the papers. "Anything unclear?"
Students shook their heads.
"Then class dismissed. Cheer up. It's not a big deal." Anthony consoled them. This class was the most active among his students—he hadn't expected one exam to deflate them so much. Anthony couldn't help wondering whether he should still have other classes take this quiz.
He walked to the classroom door, then turned back and pointed at the coconut ice on the podium. "Oh, remember to share the candy before you leave. I bought too much. I originally thought everyone would do well."
He returned to his office.
The classroom atmosphere was unusually low. Accustomed to harsh reprimands, point deductions, and detentions, Anthony's gentle disappointment made them feel incredibly guilty.
"I'm really unhappy." Fred said.
"I know." George said. "Why didn't he dock points?"
"Because he's ashamed?" Fred said listlessly.
Angelina punched him hard. "Shut up, you two! Isn't Professor Anthony good enough?"
"He teaches brilliantly." Patricia Stinson said firmly. "I wrote home last week. Dad praised his teaching accuracy—said he's much better than the professor during Dad's student days. I don't know about Professor Burbage, but fourth-years seem to really like him too, so he's definitely not worse than Professor Burbage."
"Professor Burbage's students... what's the pass rate?"
"Eighty-seven percent." Fred said.
"Percy said so. He studies this stuff all day." George added.
Stinson asked, "What's our pass rate?"
They huddled together and calculated scores for all papers, arriving at this quiz's pass rate: fifty-six percent.
"No wonder the Professor was so disappointed..." Students looked at each other and sighed. They slowly packed their things, preparing to go to dinner in low spirits.
...
News of the quiz quickly spread throughout third year. Everyone was saying Professor Anthony had suddenly given Gryffindor a test and nearly half the class had failed. But the new Muggle Studies professor still maintained his record—the only professor who'd never docked points. According to Hogwarts school records, even Professor Binns had docked points—so no one believed Gryffindor had done terribly.
"Impossible, unless Snape knocked him out and used Polyjuice Potion to replace Anthony in class." A fourth-year Muggle Studies student said disdainfully. "Besides, did Gryffindor lose points? Get detention?"
As the golden sun began its gentle descent, casting warm amber light across Hogwarts' verdant Quidditch pitch, Wood finally announced a training break to let Hufflepuff practice.
The Hufflepuff Quidditch team got along well with the Gryffindor team—Wood had bluntly said this was because everyone disliked Slytherin—so the two teams often shared the training pitch.
Hufflepuff reserve Seeker Cedric Diggory was well-liked and got along well with Gryffindor team members. During the training changeover, he asked the Weasley twins, "Did you take Muggle Studies?"
"We did. You want to ask about the exam?" Fred said with a grin.
"The paper was especially difficult." George said.
"Don't listen to their nonsense." Angelina interjected. She made a sharp turn to stop her broom, jumped down to sit beside them, and gulped water. "The paper was very simple, but we didn't do well. The Professor was quite sad."
Cedric scratched his nose. "I actually wasn't asking about exam difficulty. But either way, thanks for telling me." He stood to leave.
The Weasley twins pulled him back. "Hey, where are you going? What did you want to ask?"
The Golden Snitch flew provocatively before them. Cedric caught the fluttering thing with quick reflexes and tossed it to Wood, who was packing the ball chest nearby.
"I really wish you were our Seeker." Wood said enviously.
"Hey!" A Hufflepuff Chaser flew over. "What are you saying! This is our Seeker."
"You'll select a suitable Seeker. Tryouts are next week, right?" Cedric mounted his broom and smiled at the Weasley twins. "I originally wanted to ask if there really was an exam. Now I know. I'll go back and review."
...
Anthony was buried in studying necromancy, completely unaware of what rumors were spreading outside.
Professor Sprout heard a student earnestly telling classmates they must review properly—Gryffindor hadn't done well, and Professor Anthony was now crying in his office. Another student said Professor Anthony was clearly crying while holding Myrtle in the girls' bathroom—passing students had heard it. Others said he was preparing to resign in disgrace and become gamekeeper by the Forbidden Forest.
"But what about Hagrid?" The listener asked worriedly.
"Become the new professor."
"Good heavens!"
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