HP: The Necromancer

When Anthony walked up the tower, he saw several students looking at him with surprise and confusion.

"I am Henry Anthony, Professor of Muggle Studies," he introduced himself and placed his bag on the windowsill. "The final exam for Astronomy will begin shortly. Please put away all items related to your coursework and confirm your identity. If there are no nearby items that may trigger warnings from anti-cheating quills, we will issue the quills immediately."

The Astronomy final was scheduled for midnight. The sky had been so cloudy yesterday that not a single star could be seen, so the exam had to be postponed by a day. However, the Astronomy professor had a very important meeting tonight—one that, unsurprisingly, was also held in the middle of the night. The astronomers likely needed to lie on the lawn, eat pudding, and discuss the movement of the stars. As a result, another professor was needed to invigilate the exam in her place.

When Anthony had asked Professor Sinistra at last night's dinner, "Isn't the sun a star?" she seemed delighted.

"Would you like to proctor the Astronomy final, Professor Anthony?" she asked with amusement. "It's hard to find a professor who can only give students the wrong answers."

"Isn't it? I thought the sun was a star too."

Professor Sinistra smiled and said, "No, even though it shares many similar properties with distant stars, one thing is very important... it is the sun that shines on us every day, and it is the sun we rely on for survival. No other star in the sky is as important to us as it is."

She took a piece of treacle tart while Anthony listened: "That's why we don't need to memorize it, why it doesn't appear in Centaur astrology—because it's our life, it's who we are. The sun is not just a star, Professor Anthony. The sun will always be the sun."

And that's why Anthony now faced a group of yawning students under the stars. They lazily packed up notebooks, star charts, and various items Anthony couldn't quite understand into their bags, before taking a quill from the holder beside him. The second-year students were tasked with gazing at the night sky through telescopes, marking on a star map the stars they could observe tonight, and writing down the properties of five of them.

While the students anxiously studied the sky, Anthony quietly walked behind them, curiously checking their answers. As Professor Sinistra had mentioned, his poor knowledge of astronomy didn't allow him to determine the correct answers, but simple logic easily helped him notice contradictions in their responses.

"Autumn!" a student whispered. "Is Europa there?"

Anthony coughed loudly and stood behind them.

Nearby, a beautiful girl turned her head cautiously, glanced at Anthony, and bit her lower lip under his warning gaze. She turned back and shifted her eyes, somewhat absentmindedly, to her telescope.

"A stern warning, ladies," Anthony whispered, walking away.

After Anthony left, the girl waited a moment before rapidly shaking her head, as if adjusting the angle of her telescope.

But the classmate beside her didn't understand her hint.

"Have you?" the student asked again, clutching her anti-cheating quill that was about to leap up.

Anthony coughed again from a distance.

The girl named Cho hesitated and whispered, "No."

"Ladies," Anthony said, "I'm really sorry—the results are invalid." He stretched out his wand and tapped their quills.

The quill, already worn from being forced to write, immediately jumped up, flew to the student's parchment, and crossed out most of the answers. Cho's quill hesitated for a moment, crossed out the answer related to Europa, and then quietly dropped into the ink bottle beside her.

"So many?" Anthony said, looking at the amount of crossed-out answers in surprise, then at the curly-haired girl. She must have used great force to make the anti-cheating quill write down all the answers after the first question. He glanced at the top of the parchment—she hadn't signed it.

"What's your name?" Anthony asked, noticing that several students were turning their heads, sneaking glances at the situation. Cho's face was pale, and she stood aside, looking lost.

"Marietta," the curly-haired student said. "Marietta Edgecombe. Professor, I'm sorry. Can I continue the exam? I promise I'll write all the remaining answers myself." She looked at Anthony pleadingly.

"I'm really sorry, Miss Edgecombe," Anthony said, gently pulling Cho's answer sheet out from under the ink bottle.

The girl standing aside, Cho, looked even paler, with tears welling up in her eyes.

"Cho... Chang, I hope I pronounced that correctly," Anthony said. "Miss Chang, you may go back to the dormitory to rest."

Marietta pleaded, "Professor, we know we were wrong! I need a grade, or my parents will be so disappointed…" She began to cry.

Cho's tears fell as well. She clenched her hands tightly, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, she silently packed her things and hurried downstairs.

"Cho! Cho!" Marietta called after her friend, hesitating for a moment before turning back to Anthony. "Professor, please! I—really can't accept—"

Anthony looked at her, shook his head, and said softly, "I warned you three times."

…

Since Marietta's sobbing was distracting the other students, Anthony had to sternly warn her that if she continued, Ravenclaw would lose ten points and she would receive a detention. After Marietta's footsteps faded in the corridor, Anthony turned his gaze back to the rooftop of the tower. The other students had lowered their heads, avoiding his eyes.

When Anthony announced that the exam was over, the students quietly returned the quills to their inkwells and handed in their parchments.

Professor Sinistra heard about the incident the following day.

"Cho Chang should have been allowed to continue the exam," she said.

Anthony, surprised, replied, "Professor Sinistra, I remember someone telling me that if I encountered academic misconduct, I had to be strict. I was told that all Astronomy exams followed this rule because cheating is relatively easy."

Professor Sinistra sighed, "Yes, that someone was me."

...

Anthony noticed that neither Marietta Edgecombe nor Cho Chang showed up at breakfast. However, considering that the Astronomy exam had been held in the middle of the night, many students who had participated hadn't appeared at their House tables in the morning.

By lunchtime, Anthony still hadn't seen Marietta or Cho. Concerned, he approached Professor Flitwick. "How are Miss Edgecombe and Miss Zhang doing in your House?" he asked.

Professor Flitwick looked momentarily confused before understanding who Anthony was referring to. 

"Oh, nothing much," Flitwick said with a smile. "They seemed to have had a little quarrel, but it didn't escalate into anything serious."

Professor Sprout frowned disapprovingly. "Felix!"

"Really, it's no big deal," Flitwick continued. "You and Minerva have had your disagreements. What's the harm in Zhang and Edgecombe having a little spat? Just a typical quarrel between friends."

Professor McGonagall interjected sternly, "Professor Flitwick!"

"All right, all right. I'll stop." Flitwick grinned and popped a few chickpeas into his mouth, clearly unbothered.

Anthony turned his attention back to the Slytherin table, where Pansy Parkinson was silently eating a chicken leg. She seemed distracted, missing a joke Malfoy told. When the others around her began laughing, she suddenly snapped out of her daze, quickly putting down the drumstick and joining in with a few half-hearted words.

…

While Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe quarreled, an awkward alliance was forming between Tracy Davis and Pansy Parkinson. 

Pansy's public argument with her mother had left her under an uncomfortable spotlight. Many of the Slytherins were giving her odd glances as if expecting her to suddenly declare that she'd moved on from Malfoy. In the worst-case scenarios they imagined, perhaps she'd even claim her ideal husband was no longer a pure-blood, but someone like... say, a Weasley. Any Weasley. 

Malfoy laughed at the joke for a while, then turned and asked, "Can you, Pansy?" They were sitting in the Slytherin common room, the dim light from the fire casting flickering shadows around the room. Outside the window, a school of fish swam by, their scales gleaming in the watery light.

"Of course not," Pansy said softly, glancing at Malfoy gratefully, relieved that he was still willing to talk to her during this awkward time.

"Oh?" Malfoy said, flashing a false smile.

Pansy scoffed disdainfully. "You know... it's all nonsense. The Weasley family is poor, smelly, and they're all Gryffindors. Ha, just them?"

Malfoy nodded in satisfaction, suddenly sitting up from the sofa. "Exactly right, Pansy, absolutely right. The Weasleys are poor, smelly, and thick-headed... I honestly don't know how they can still claim to be pure-bloods. If they like Muggles so much, they might as well marry a Mudblood. Their dump is only fit for dirty blood."

Pansy beamed. "Are you talking about Granger? The Mudblood?"

"Good one, Pansy. Granger and Weasley, ha!" Malfoy said approvingly, looking at Pansy as if seeing her in a new light. "I didn't know you were capable of thinking."

At that moment, Tracy snapped her book shut with a sharp sound.

"Of course she can," Tracy said coldly, standing up and striding back toward her dormitory.

"Oh, 'people' are defending you," Malfoy teased. Pansy's face flushed.

…

"What do you think you're doing?" Pansy stormed into Tracy's dormitory, her voice filled with anger. "I don't need your protection, you half-blood!"

Tracy was calmly sorting her clothes. She folded a robe and placed it neatly in the closet before turning to face Pansy.

"I'm helping you, or I'm retaliating against you," Tracy said coolly. "Take a guess."

Pansy stood there, gritting her teeth, her face contorting with anger. "If—if you had even a little basic conscience—just a shred of shame—"

"Shame?" Tracy raised her voice slightly, eyes narrowing. "I don't understand. Weren't you the one who attacked us first? Me and Roger? Think about it, and you'll know who should be ashamed."

"Are you talking about me?" Pansy asked incredulously, her chest heaving. "I—I was humiliated by my mother, laughed at by my classmates, even Draco doubts me because of you—"

"And don't you deserve suspicion?" Tracy shot back. "You say you're doing it for us? Who are you really doing it for?"

"I..." Pansy glared at her, her eyes wild as she glanced around Tracy's dormitory, as if looking for something to smash over her head.

"Admit it," Tracy said quietly. "You're doing this for your own conscience."

"I'm mad for ever thinking you were human!" Pansy spat. "I should've known that inferior creatures like you are beyond saving! Full of useless delusions, thinking you can be equal to pure-bloods! My mother was right—you should've died with your filthy mother and crazy father—"

She stopped short as Tracy suddenly turned, pulling a glass bottle from her closet and raising it. The liquid inside was a strange yellow-green, swirling ominously.

"I must've really lost my mind," Tracy said, slamming the bottle onto the floor. It bounced twice before a thin crack formed, and the liquid began slowly seeping onto the dark green carpet, spreading in strange patterns.

"What is that?" Pansy asked, trying to conceal the tremor in her voice. She suddenly realized that Tracy was much taller than her. She remembered Tracy was a second-year when she poured that pus down her collar. Why hadn't she smashed the bottle over her head?

"Scar removal," Tracy said firmly.

Pansy glared at her, but Tracy met her gaze without flinching, towering over her. "I mixed porcupine quill powder into your Bubotuber pus. Just a small amount, but enough to make the wound almost impossible to heal. I was—I almost—"

Pansy looked at the potion still slowly leaking from the cracked bottle and took a small step back.

"I thought I should apologize," Tracy said, her voice hard. "I thought Roger had a point."

"If...if you want to apologize!" Pansy said, her voice rising. "Then the best way is to stay away from me! Don't you get it? The last thing I need is for anyone to see us talking!"

"Oh my God, you're such an idiot," Tracy snapped. "You're already involved with me!"

"Then get away from me!" Pansy shouted. "Just pretend none of this ever happened!"

"Fine!" Tracy yelled back, then paused. "No, wait...you know what? I won't. I'm not going to stay away from you. You can deny it, but from now on, I'm going to tell everyone that you're my best friend. Let's see what your 'friends' think about that. See who they believe—me, the so-called 'half-blood,' or you, the pure-blood princess who can't even keep her own dignity." She smiled at Pansy with a cutting sneer. "Your pure-blood friends who make you so proud? In their hearts, you're no better than me."