HP: The Necromancer

The Muggle Studies exam for the fourth year was scheduled for Tuesday afternoon, followed immediately by the exam for the third year. When Anthony announced that the exam was over, a group of third-year students waiting for their turn had already gathered outside the classroom.

"Confirm that you've signed your name, and then place your quill next to the inkwell," Anthony said. "Congratulations, this semester's Muggle Studies class is over."

He waved his wand, and the parchments flew to the podium, stacking themselves neatly in a pile. Anthony glanced at the top answer sheet and saw a completely blank short answer section. The response to the question "What should you do if you were going to visit a Muggle family?" read: "Secretly apparate to the door (if seen, pay a fine)." 

Anthony flipped the parchment upside down and looked away resolutely.

"I have a few more things to say before I let you go and allow the next group in for their exam," Anthony said. "First, there will be no holiday homework." 

After the applause and laughter gradually subsided, he continued: "Secondly, I don't know if you plan to visit the Muggle world during the holidays or interact with Muggles, but I hope that when we meet again, I won't hear about anyone violating the Statute of Secrecy."

"In addition, students interested in adopting pets can come to my office starting tomorrow. The information has been sorted. Ms. Howard also provided some guidelines on the qualifications required to be a good owner—at least the qualifications needed in the eyes of Muggles." Anthony looked at the students' faces as he said this. "Of course, if you're busy preparing for other exams or just want to relax, there's no rush. I've been in touch with Ms. Howard, and all the animals on your interest lists are healthy and currently staying at the rescue center."

"Lastly, because I selfishly hope you'll leave with a good impression of Muggle Studies..." Anthony said, leaning down and pulling out a large tray from under the podium, loaded with bowls of steaming vanilla ice cream. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the cheers of students pounding the tables: "One bowl per person! Please leave the empty bowls on your house table in the Great Hall!"

…

The third-year students gathered around Cedric, sharing his class notes, raised their heads and watched as the fourth-years exited the classroom, holding bowls of vanilla ice cream and laughing.

"Hey, what's that?" called a third-year student. "Are they taking a Muggle cooking test?"

"No, it's not," Midgan replied, recognizing a Gryffindor who had asked him to redesign Muggle clothes on the train. "There's basically no cooking in the test. In our review class, Professor Anthony just had us practice how to open and close our mouths for eating. Muggle table manners aren't that different from wizarding ones. You'll learn more specifics in fifth year."

"That's what Professor Anthony told us," Cedric said, gazing longingly at the ice cream. "Is it lemon?"

At that moment, Anthony opened the classroom door and looked around: "The examination room is ready. Third-year students, please come in."

"Ah, it's vanilla," Midgen said, adding, "Good luck with your exam!"

Another student called out to the departing fourth-years: "Was the exam hard?"

One of the fourth-years, still eating ice cream, waved his little silver spoon at him but didn't answer. Anthony, holding the door open, glanced down at him and said, "I don't think it was too difficult, Mr. Thomas."

…

The third-year students received caramel-flavored ice cream after their exam. Once Anthony finished going over the instructions, he announced the end of class. He gathered the parchments one by one, placed them in his bag, and said goodbye to the students as they passed the podium with smiles.

"Professor, will you be teaching us next year?" one student asked. "Will you still be in charge of the third and fourth years?"

"The course schedule for next year hasn't been decided yet," Anthony replied. "Why? Do you want me to, or not?"

The student hesitated for a moment, smiled up at Anthony, said, "Have a great holiday," and then dashed out of the classroom.

Another student following behind said affirmatively: "He definitely wants you to."

…

The staff lounge was buzzing with activity. All the professors had put aside their research projects and were focused on grading exams. Before the end of the semester, Professor Burbage had suggested to Anthony that he correct his exams in the lounge: "There's plenty of sunlight, an abundance of refreshments, and you won't want to miss the odd answers students give, Henry."

When Anthony entered with his stack of exams, Professors Sprout and Sinistra each occupied a small table, sipping tea as they marked their students' work. Professor Flitwick, having proudly declared yesterday that he had finished grading all his Charms exams, was now reviewing the students' practical results, his legs swinging contentedly. A book titled 'The Joyful Charm: The Great Charm Invention That Stops People From Getting Angry' sat under his chair.

"Henry, are your exams finished?" Professor Sprout asked, looking up. "How did they go?"

Anthony chose a seat by the window and sat down. "I guess you'll be able to tell the students' scores by the expression on my face."

"Don't worry too much about grades," Professor Burbage said. Her fifth graders were taking their O.W.L.s that day, and the seventh graders had just finished their N.E.W.T.s. She sat calmly in her chair, touched the cold teapot, and sent it flying back to the stove.

Anthony replied, "Is it really necessary to start comforting me already, Caredi?"

Professor Burbage smiled. She asked casually, "If you could put a verb in front of 'antenna,' what would it be, Henry?"

Professor Flitwick chimed in: "Watch?"

Professor Sinistra added: "Collect?"

"Install?" Anthony said.

Professor Burbage commented, "'Gaze,' very clever, but I can't say it's wrong. 'Collect,' well, I might give you some points if I'm in a generous mood..." She smiled at Professor Sinistra and continued, "'Install,' without considering the context, I'd say is the perfect answer. But in any case, the verb in front of 'antenna' should definitely not be 'taste.'"

Anthony asked sympathetically, "Is that really one of your student's answers, Caredi?"

"Yes," Professor Burbage said calmly, recalling the warm teapot as she poured herself a cup of tea. "This student even earned an E in his O.W.L.s for Muggle Studies."

…

Professor Burbage's examples got the other professors talking. Professor Sinistra shared her frustration about a student who wrote "I don't know anything" on their test and renamed each star after a Hogwarts professor.

"That's 'Mercucy,' not McGonagall," said Professor Sinistra. "It's 'Saturn,' not Snape. I really think she did it on purpose."

Anthony asked curiously, "Do I have a star?"

"No," Professor Sinistra replied. "She used Minerva's name twice—'McGonagall' for Mercury and 'Minerva' for Mars. But if it makes you feel any better, I don't have one either, Professor Anthony."

Professor Sprout asked, "Is she a Gryffindor?"

"No, she's in Slytherin," Professor Sinistra said, accepting the small cake Professor Sprout handed her.

Professor Flitwick then recounted some of the mistakes students made during their practical exams. Despite his emphasis on the importance of pronunciation—he retells the story of the wizard Baruffio and the buffalo every year—students still managed to pronounce spells in all sorts of strange ways, sometimes simply because they were nervous during the exam.

When you're lucky, nothing will happen, but this year, Professor Flitwick was hit by a student's incorrect spell. When he came to his senses, he found himself dangling slightly from the chandelier, while a student with a goatee was running around the classroom with a desk in his mouth, screaming the whole time.

Professor Flitwick asked Anthony to demonstrate the spell for the exam, and when Anthony's chair smoothly moved to the cupboard, Flitwick said sharply, "Professor Anthony only learned this temporarily, and he's only been exposed to spells for a year! And that gentleman—" He hesitated, but decided not to name the student before the results were announced, "—is already in the fourth year!"

"No, no, I didn't learn it temporarily," Anthony quickly clarified. "I've practiced it. I've gone over most of the spells in The Standard Book of Spells."

Professor Flitwick responded, "Yes, practice! He didn't even practice enough before the exam!" He added, "I've told them repeatedly how important this spell is!"

After that, Anthony found it difficult to quietly finish grading papers. His colleagues, having noticed that he'd only had one year of formal magical education, began asking him all sorts of odd questions to test him.

Professor Sinistra asked him to name the moons of Jupiter in order of size; later, she asked if Mars had any moons. If Anthony answered correctly, she would start her next sentence with, "Even Professor Anthony..." If his answer was wrong, she would shrug and say, "He's only studied for a year, and he still knows nothing."

Even Professor Sprout asked him about the blooming season for mandrakes, the key care points, and if he could name fifteen benefits of dragon dung.

Anthony sighed, "I don't know, Pomona. You know how terrible I am at Herbology."

"I know," Professor Sprout replied with a smile, "I just wanted to see if a miracle happened. Chocolate chip cookie, Henry?"

"Of course," Anthony said, eyeing the box she offered. "I'll take the one with both dark and white chocolate chips."

…

Soon, it was time for dinner. Anthony packed away the test papers and prepared to head to the Great Hall.

As the evening progressed, Professor Sinistra seemed to become more energetic. She declined the invitation to dinner, asking the house-elf to bring her a sandwich instead. She declared that she was finally awake and wanted to finish grading the papers quickly so she could go up to the Astronomy Tower that night to test some theories her colleagues had proposed at the last meeting.

"I'll go with you, Henry," said Professor Burbage. "I hope Minerva remembers to come to dinner."

"She will," Professor Sprout assured, standing up and gathering her papers. "There are lamb chops tonight, and she wouldn't miss that. If she forgets, I'll bring the lamb chops to her myself."

Professor McGonagall was indeed sitting at the head of the teachers' table in the Great Hall when Anthony and the others entered. She was intently cutting her lamb chops. Next to her sat Snape, while Dumbledore's high-backed chair remained vacant.

"Where's Albus?" Professor Sprout asked as she sat down.

Professor McGonagall replied, "He said he went to visit some old friends."

Professor Sprout looked surprised. "At this hour? I thought he'd be grading the Defense Against the Dark Arts exams—many students have made lots of mistakes in their reviews this year. I proctored the third-year exams, and they were so full of information they might as well have added five more sheets of parchment. I just hope I don't get any more blank papers in Herbology."

"No, Albus said he was very busy," McGonagall explained. "He mentioned the Tuna Club and that the Ministry of Magic needed his help with something. In short, he didn't have time."

"So, this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts grading..." Anthony began.

"Severus is handling it," McGonagall confirmed.

Snape nodded at the right moment and added, "Dumbledore is obviously very busy, so his poor Potions Master had to take on additional duties."

"We're all grateful to you, Severus," Professor McGonagall said, her tone slightly impatient.

At that moment, several owls flew into the hall, circling a few times around the floating candles before landing on the Slytherin table under the watchful eyes of the professors.

"I wonder what's going on," murmured Professor Burbage.

Another owl flew in and landed in front of Snape. His expression suddenly turned enigmatic. He put down his fork and wiped his hands before untying the letter from the owl's leg and reading it for a while.

"What is it, Severus?" Professor Flitwick asked curiously. The owl stood tall, and Professor Flitwick offered it a strip of bacon. The owl gave him a sideways glance before reluctantly accepting the treat and then eagerly devouring the lamb chop that Professor Sprout offered.

"Dumbledore," Snape said curtly, "someone asked me to confirm if Dumbledore truly went out to assassinate Fudge."

"Did he really do that?" Professor Sprout asked incredulously.

"I hope so," Snape said lazily.

Professor McGonagall glared at both of them.