John returned on the day of the exams, and for the most part, no one asked where he'd been during that time.
To the students, if John Wick stayed in one place for too long and wasn't acting mysterious, then he wouldn't be John Wick.
Officials from the Ministry of Magic had arrived to proctor the exams, including Griselda Marchbanks, the elderly witch who had once supervised Dumbledore's own tests.
The exams would last two weeks—written theory in the mornings and practicals in the afternoons.
Some special subjects, like Astronomy, would be held at night.
A tense atmosphere spread throughout the halls of Hogwarts. Some students were still cramming at the last minute, clutching their textbooks and trying to memorize whatever they could.
"You don't look so good, John," Daphne said, placing a glass of milk in front of him.
John picked it up, took a sip, and gave a light laugh. "You know why, Daphne."
He lowered his voice so only the two of them could hear. "Remember what I said, Daphne."
The worry in her eyes didn't fade. Nearby, Malfoy was muttering to himself, covering his ears in an effort to block out the world.
He was trying to cram as much of the tedious History of Magic as possible before the theory portion began.
The morning theory exam was held in the Great Hall.
The long tables that usually filled the hall had vanished, replaced with individual desks and chairs.
The proctors sat at the staff table, from where they had a clear view to catch any attempts at cheating.
Both fifth and seventh years had to take the exams, with the fifth years entering first.
John sat at his desk, with Goyle in front of him and Malfoy on the far right.
"Goyle, just do your best," he said to the nervous boy.
Only then did Goyle realize John was sitting behind him.
"But my brain doesn't work so well," Goyle said, shifting in his seat. "Everyone says I'm like a troll with dwarfism."
John patted him on the back in reassurance. "Don't worry about what others say. What matters is the knowledge you've put in your head. If there's a question you don't know, skip it first. You might remember it later."
Goyle gradually began to calm down at his words.
When Professor McGonagall flipped the hourglass on the table, the exam began.
John glanced over the test paper and dipped his quill in ink.
The first question was about the incantation and wand movement for the Levitation Charm.
From the moment he received the paper to when he began writing, John didn't pause at all.
Like a printing press, he filled in the answers in neat handwriting.
Goyle, sitting in front of him, seemed to be struggling at first, but then brightened up with a look of surprise.
Looks like he'd followed John's advice and skipped the questions he didn't know.
The exam lasted two hours, but John finished in just thirty minutes.
He set down his quill and let his gaze drift blankly.
A familiar interface appeared before his eyes.
He shifted his focus to the line showing his magic power.
Originally, based on his training progress, it would've taken him over a year to reach Level 6 magic power.
But the Oak Mage title had doubled his absorption rate, so while it would still take some time, the goal was now closer.
Professor McGonagall had been patrolling the hall. Amid the sea of frantic scribbling and panicked expressions, John's relaxed demeanor stood out glaringly.
She couldn't help herself and began walking toward him.
Stopping at his side, Professor McGonagall glanced down at his parchment—and couldn't hide her astonishment.
Then she looked at John again, her expression shifting.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hermione still writing, and gave a faintly regretful shake of her head.
All of Hogwarts knew that Hermione Granger's greatest wish was to surpass John.
But in this moment, Professor McGonagall felt a trace of despair for her favorite student.
Faced with such a monster of talent, it took immense courage just to keep looking up at him.
Hermione's nose suddenly felt itchy as she was still writing on her exam. She resisted the urge to rub it, feeling as though someone might be thinking about her.
Looking at her densely filled exam paper, Hermione regained her confidence.
Two hours flew by quickly.
When Malfoy walked out of the Great Hall, he looked like he was floating, muttering to himself, trying to remember when exactly they'd learned the Belching Charm.
Daphne was rubbing her sore wrist. "I think I missed a letter in that Cheerful Charm one."
After lunch came the practical exam in the afternoon.
Students were called one by one into a small room beside the Great Hall, according to alphabetical order.
John was called almost at the very end.
He saw Malfoy coming out brimming with confidence. For someone like Malfoy, practicals were much easier than the long-winded theory section.
When John entered the room, Griselda Marchbanks had just become available.
So he walked up to the elderly witch's desk.
Marchbanks looked at this student who had so thoroughly impressed her and said with emotion, "The last time we met was at the Ministry. Hello, John Wick."
"Professor Marchbanks," John replied with a polite smile.
There were several cups, flowers, and mice laid out on the old woman's desk. In her raspy voice, she said, "Take this egg cup and show me a few barrel rolls."
John glanced at it, and the egg cup automatically flew to him.
He casually drew his wand, and under Marchbanks's astonished gaze, the egg cup performed perfect barrel rolls.
"Absolutely perfect," Marchbanks exclaimed in her aged voice.
"Now, please make the cup float in this way. If you can make a flower bloom inside it, even better."
No sooner had she finished speaking than John swished his wand.
Three egg cups floated into the air, and three flowers bloomed inside them.
This time, Marchbanks couldn't help but applaud. Suddenly inspired, she said, "As an extra credit challenge—can you make them undergo more transformations?"
John raised an eyebrow. All the mice on the table lifted into the air.
They turned green, blue, red, and yellow. Flowers dropped into the cups, their leaves stretching like little arms waking from a nap, and their blossoms bloomed into a variety of colors.
"Perfect Levitation Charm, Color-Change Charm, and Growth Charm."
This time, it wasn't just Marchbanks—everyone watching applauded.
John gave a slight bow, the calm, effortless smile never leaving his face.
He snapped his fingers, and the mice returned to their original colors and scurried back into the cage with a squeak.
The next day's exam focused mainly on Transfiguration.
John finished the morning's theory exam in just half an hour once again.
During the practical exam, he amazed the examiners once more.
He transfigured a weasel into a vase, summoned flowers into it, then waved his wand and made the vase disappear.
As for Malfoy, he wasn't nearly as smug as he had been the day before—Transfiguration had always been one of his weak points.
Daphne, on the other hand, came out smiling—she'd done well.
On the third day came the Herbology exam. As an alchemy master, if John couldn't handle this, it would be embarrassing.
While everyone else was fumbling around trying to manage their tasks, John had already finished repotting, harvesting, and extracting.
The examiner had grown somewhat numb—this student didn't seem to have any weaknesses.
The fourth day was Defense Against the Dark Arts, a subject Harry was particularly confident in.
Especially after the practical exam, when he used the Patronus Charm as an extra credit spell and received a round of applause.
When it was John's turn to enter, he looked calm and composed as he approached the next examiner.
Professor Tofty, who had just finished testing Harry Potter, lit up with interest when he saw John Wick. After the last test, he couldn't help but propose an extra challenge.
John gave him a glance—this old man was clearly eager.
He seemed to want to see who was more impressive: John Wick or Harry Potter.
When the silver albatross appeared, Professor Tofty couldn't help but applaud again.
"Brilliant!" he exclaimed with delight. "You never cease to amaze me, Wick."
Seeing how intrigued he was, John chuckled lightly. "Want to be even more surprised?"
Tofty paused, then asked, "You know other advanced spells?"
John raised his wand, white light gathering at the tip.
He suddenly flung it forward, and the white light—charged with a shattering force—shot out like lightning.
"A stunning variant of the Blasting Curse!" Tofty's neck flushed red with excitement.
John tapped his wand on the table, and the crisp sound rippled outward in waves, destroying everything in its path.
"Another variant!" Tofty had never seen a Blasting Curse like this before.
The shattered objects quickly reassembled themselves, and John swiftly slashed his wand toward a table.
An invisible blade sliced it clean in half. Tofty was beyond excitement now—he gasped sharply.
"A highly advanced Severing Charm."
He tried using a spell to repair the table, only to find the severed surface completely unresponsive.
Tofty's expression shifted dramatically. He asked cautiously, "That spell?"
"I invented it," John said.
Tofty was amazed. So this was what a true genius looked like—while others were still learning magic, he was already creating it.
"Exceptional! You are going to be one of the best wizards of your generation!! I can guarantee it!" Tofty said, giving a thumbs-up.
John gave a slight nod and walked out of the room.
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