Final Exams
When the final exams arrived, Hogwarts collectively lost its mind.
The month leading up to them had been nothing short of unhinged.
The library was packed at all hours, students slumped over tables like fallen soldiers, parchment and books piled so high they became barricades. Sleep-deprived faces twitched with nervous energy, eyes darting as if information itself might ambush them.
Some students developed… coping mechanisms.
A third-year Ravenclaw insisted on knocking exactly seven times on every table before studying, muttering that it aligned his "academic aura." A Hufflepuff second-year tried to eat while revising and, in a moment of tragic confusion, chewed straight through his parchment before realizing his mistake. A pair of Gryffindors attempted a last-minute "luck charm ritual" involving chocolate frogs, candles, and what they claimed was a phoenix feather—until Professor McGonagall appeared and shut it down with one raised eyebrow.
Cheating plots were whispered in corridors and immediately crushed. McGonagall seemed to sense dishonesty before it even formed, swooping in like an academic executioner.
More malicious students tried sabotage deliberately giving wrong information to rivals, switching labels on library books, or loudly proclaiming fake exam topics just to induce panic. One Slytherin loudly announced that the Charms exam involved advanced wandless magic, sending half the first-years into a frenzy before Flitwick corrected it with visible disappointment.
If Hogwarts had a centre of stress, it was Ravenclaw.
The house crackled with tension. Students competing not just against other houses—but against each other. Those preparing for O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s were especially volatile, snapping over chair space and muttering formulae under their breath like curses.
Even Lyra and Vela were caught in the storm.
Despite being prepared long before arriving at Hogwarts, the pressure of Ravenclaw expectations weighed heavily. Knowledge was currency there, and suddenly everyone was hoarding it.
Five days before the exams, Leo and his Hufflepuff circle barricaded themselves in a quiet corner of the library.
Leo.
Cedric.
Elowen.
Maribel.
Tobias.
Rowan.
Books were spread everywhere, color-coded notes stacked in uneven towers.
Maribel animatedly explained History of Magic, her hands slicing the air as she summarized goblin rebellions with alarming passion. Rowan patiently walked them through Herbology, sketching plant diagrams and pointing out which ones were most likely to bite.
Cedric and Leo rotated through the remaining subjects Charms, Transfiguration theory, basic Potions safety while Elowen and Tobias listened, chiming in when they could.
Elowen and Tobias were relieved—deeply so—that everyone had at least one strong subject so that they could explain to them. Elowen was especially relives if her grandmother know she did terribly she will got a howler the day the exam result arrived.
At one point, Tobias groaned and dropped his head onto a book.
"If I hear the words 'wand movement' one more time, I'm jumping into the Black Lake."
Leo snorted. "Please don't. That'll just add another subject to revise—How Not to Die."
Cedric smiled, calm as ever. "Alright. Five-minute break. No spells. No books."
They leaned back, exhausted but steady. Together.
Then the day arrived.
The first exam Monday : Herbology.
The greenhouse was humid and thick with earthy smells. Sunlight filtered through enchanted glass, illuminating rows of twitching plants.
For first-years, the exam consisted of:
Identifying and safely handling three magical plants
Repotting a mildly aggressive specimen
A short written component explaining plant care and dangers
Professor Sprout bustled between tables, cheerful as ever but sharp-eyed.
Leo did… well.
Not spectacular—but well enough that he is confident to get an outstanding if professor sprout was nice that day.
He correctly identified his plants and reported his specimen with care, though one root snapped with a faint crack that made his stomach drop. He froze, hoping desperately Sprout hadn't noticed.
The smell, however, got to him.
He gagged slightly, covering it with a cough.
Tobias, two tables over, was having the same problem—eyes watering, face green—but he powered through. Elowen looked near tears after realizing she'd mixed up two similar-looking roots.
Maribel, on the other hand, shone in the written portion, her quill flying confidently across the parchment. Rowan and Cedric were flawless—hands steady, movements precise. Cedric handled a particularly temperamental plant as if it were a sleeping kitten.
When it was over, they stumbled out of the greenhouse into fresh air.
Leo wiped sweat from his brow. "I think I just lost a year of my life to plant fumes."
Cedric laughed softly. "You did fine.
The Potions Exam
That evening, the next exam loomed: Potions.
If Herbology had been suffocating, Potions was… terrifying.
The dungeon classroom felt colder than usual, shadows clinging to the stone walls as torches flickered low. The scent of old ingredients—bitter, metallic, sharp—hung thick in the air.
Leo's nerves returned in full force.
He sat stiffly at the waiting chair, fingers clenched around his wand, unable to stop the thought circling in his head:
What if Professor Snape sabotages me?
It wasn't entirely unreasonable. House rivalry ran deep, and Leo wasn't a Slytherin. Worse—he was a Hufflepuff who mess with the Malfoys and get away with it.
Tonks who also waiting for her exam, sensing his spiraling, leaned over and lowered her voice.
"Oi. Snape's unpleasant, not unfair," she said firmly. "He doesn't lower marks for other houses. He marks what's in front of him."
She hesitated—just for a fraction of a second.
"…Though," she added carefully, "I wouldn't be shocked if he favored Slytherins a bit. But that's not the same as punishing everyone else."
Leo exhaled slowly.
That reassurance mattered more than she knew.
By the time they lined up outside the dungeon classroom, his heartbeat had steadied.
Professor Snape swept in like a storm cloud.
"Silence," he said coldly, robes billowing behind him. "This is your first-year Potions practical and written examination. Any deviation from instructions will result in immediate failure."
No pressure.
The exam consisted of:
Brewing a standard Cure for Boils potion,
unaidedIdentifying potion stages and ingredients
A short written explanation of potion safety and brewing errors
No partners. No talking. No second chances.
Leo swallowed.
This was the first time he would brew a potion completely alone.
Cauldrons heated. Ingredients were distributed. The scratching of quills and clink of glass filled the dungeon.
Leo followed the instructions that he study meticulously—counting stirs, watching the flame, timing each step with care. His hands shook at first, but slowly steadied as muscle memory took over.
Beside him, Cedric worked with quiet focus, his movements smooth and confident. Neither spoke, but their presence grounded each other.
The potion began to change colour.
Leo held his breath.
It shifted—slowly—into the exact shade described in the textbook.
The same pale, glossy hue as the example simmering on Snape's desk.
And glancing at Cedric it look like he did well also.
Relief flooded his chest.
Around them, their friends weren't so lucky.
Elowen's potion was slightly too dark. Tobias's bubbled more aggressively than it should have. Maribel's had an odd shimmer that wasn't wrong—but wasn't right either.
Snape stalked the rows,
He paused behind Leo.
Leo didn't dare look up.
A long, heavy silence.
Snape sniffed.
Then—without a single comment—he moved on.
That was somehow worse.
The same happened with the others. No insults. No biting remarks. No usual venom.
The six exchanged subtle, panicked glances.
"Was it so bad he didn't even bother criticizing it?"
When the exam ended, they filed out in tense silence.
Outside the dungeon, Tobias finally whispered, "He didn't say anything."
Maribel swallowed. "That's not good, is it?"
Leo glanced back at the dungeon door, heart pounding—but a quiet hope stirred beneath the fear.
Snape hadn't praised them.
But he hadn't condemned them either.
Cedric was reassuring them that they did well and not to worry.