Friday was the Ancient Runes exam.
As someone who had taken all twelve electives, John had to sit for an exam every single day.
When the Ancient Runes professor, Bathilda Babbling, saw John walk in, she looked almost flattered.
Unable to suppress her curiosity, Professor Babbling came over to John's side and saw that he had already finished translating all the runes.
Her mouth fell open. The level of detail on his exam could be used directly as teaching material.
Suddenly, she felt a bit ashamed. As a professor, she actually felt her knees weaken a little, as if she had the urge to kneel in reverence.
There were no exams over the weekend, but no one dared relax.
On Monday came the Potions exam.
The morning theory section left many scratching their heads, and John cast a glance at Malfoy.
Even someone like Malfoy, who usually performed well in Potions, had his platinum blond hair all ruffled from the stress.
Some of the questions were particularly obscure—like the effects of Polyjuice Potion.
This time, John spent a little longer: thirty-one minutes.
Snape, unlike the other proctors, didn't even bother walking near John.
As a Potions Master himself, Snape was fully aware of the value behind the Bloodcurse related Potion John had created.
If even these exams could trip him up, then John Wick wouldn't be worthy of the Order of Merlin, Second Class.
In the afternoon, they had to brew a full cauldron of potion—John was still the fastest to finish.
Tuesday was Care of Magical Creatures, the easiest and most relaxing subject for John.
The practical exam was just as simple—identifying a Porlock, handling a Bowtruckle, feeding Fire Crabs, and cleaning up after them.
Wednesday was Astronomy: theory in the daytime, practical at night.
That afternoon, there was also the Divination exam.
When John entered the exam room, he noticed everyone staring at him.
"That's him, right? The kid with the Inner Eye."
"Yeah, that's him. He made a prophecy while still in school."
"Sybill Trelawney might not be all that impressive, but her student is something else."
One of the examiners set his sights on John—he was going to test him personally.
A crystal ball was placed between John and the examiner, an old man with a wart on his nose.
John stared into the ball, and the mist inside began to churn.
The examiner grew excited. He was almost certain—this boy truly had the gift.
John saw a grief-stricken Hogwarts.
He was silent for a moment before saying, "There will be a funeral."
The examiner wanted to know more, but John looked at him deeply. "Some things… It's better not to know too much."
In that moment, the examiner felt like he was the student instead.
At eleven o'clock that night, the Astronomy exam took place atop the Astronomy Tower.
The weather was ideal—no clouds covering the sky, no wind stirring the air.
The area was bathed in moonlight, and the air carried a slight chill.
With their telescopes set up, they had to record the precise positions between stars and planets.
Malfoy rubbed his hands together, full of confidence.
And it wasn't just him—Neville, too, was self-assured.
As members of the Constellation Society, their canopy was the stars themselves.
John could feel the starlight nourishing his body. If he could, he wouldn't even need a telescope.
Picking up his quill, he quickly wrote down the answers. While others were still observing, he had already filled an entire sheet of parchment.
The Astronomy Tower was the tallest structure at Hogwarts.
John finished the last of his star charts and looked out over the grounds surrounding Hogwarts.
He saw lights still glowing in Hagrid's hut, and a few figures murmuring beneath the castle's main gates.
Shifting his gaze in another direction, he spotted the Whomping Willow—completely still.
Suddenly, the tree gave a small shudder, then fell motionless once more.
Someone seemed to be entering or exiting the passage below it, though no figure could be seen.
Tom ran toward Hagrid's hut, with Fang bounding alongside her.
They played for a bit, until Tom suddenly stopped.
She lowered his nose to the grass, sniffing, then began barking in a specific direction.
John locked his eyes on that same spot.
After barking for a while, Tom went quiet again, then turned around and led Fang back into Hagrid's hut.
From the castle gates, someone started heading toward Hagrid's place—it was Umbridge.
Apparently satisfied with the number of points she'd deducted, she strutted up to Hagrid's door and knocked with an air of arrogance.
Her mouth moved, twisted into a hideous smile.
Hagrid looked stunned at first—then utterly dejected.
He tried to plead with her, but Umbridge just kept talking.
Hagrid began to lose his patience—right then, Tom came running over and sank her teeth into Umbridge's calf.
Umbridge, who had still been standing, instantly toppled over, the back of her head striking a rock.
Blood gushed from the wound.
Her scream tore through the night, leaving the students in the middle of their exams frozen in shock.
They looked over, stunned by the pig-slaughtering shriek.
Professor McGonagall rushed over and was just as dumbfounded by the scene.
Tom darted into Hagrid's hut to hide, while Umbridge tried to speak—but soon started foaming at the mouth, scaring McGonagall so badly she rushed her straight to the hospital wing.
Hagrid felt like he'd caused a huge mess—no, Tom had caused a mess.
He ran back into the hut, then came out carrying a box, dashing toward the main gate.
There were still twenty minutes left in the exam. John felt eyes on him—he turned to look, and Malfoy seemed like he wanted to say something, but ended up keeping quiet. First, the exam.
Who would've thought—Umbridge got bitten by a dog.
And with just one bite, she was completely taken out of commission.
As soon as the exam ended, a crowd eagerly swarmed around John.
"Is Tom okay?" Malfoy asked.
John thought for a moment and said, "She should be fine."
Malfoy found the answer incredibly perfunctory and asked, "What about Umbridge?"
"She probably isn't seriously hurt either."
That response left Malfoy speechless.
Only the Golden Trio suddenly remembered the last person who got bitten. They couldn't help feeling a bit happy—maybe they'd get to see Umbridge turn into a dog.
Daphne asked curiously, "Why did Professor Hagrid take Tom away?"
"He probably thinks Tom's going to be punished," John shrugged.
After what happened with Buckbeak, Hagrid was likely afraid Tom would be punished the same way.
What he didn't realize was—punishment depends on the person involved.
And with the entirety of Slytherin standing behind John, no one was going to make trouble over a cute little dog.
After the Astronomy exam, only one core subject remained: the History of Magic.
John still had two elective exams to go—Muggle Studies and Arithmancy.
Once the Arithmancy exam was over, tomorrow would be the final day, with the History of Magic exam.
Night.
John stood in the corridor. It was curfew.
Mrs. Norris gracefully padded up to John's feet, rubbing her neck against his trouser leg.
He bent down and picked up the now noticeably chubbier Mrs. Norris.
"There you are. Where's Filch?"
He hadn't seen Filch around—seemed like he wasn't on this side.
John pulled a brush out of his small bag and began brushing Mrs. Norris's fur.
She closed her eyes contentedly, purring softly in pleasure.
Due to the bite from Tom, Umbridge had been admitted to the hospital wing.
Even Madam Pomfrey couldn't help asking Professor McGonagall what had bitten her.
That wound didn't look like it was from a dog—chunks of flesh had nearly been torn off.
Anyone who didn't know better would think she'd been attacked by some large carnivorous animal.
What made things worse was that the bleeding wouldn't stop.
Even after wrapping it in gauze, the blood soaked through in no time.
The hospital wing was in chaos—they'd already gone through over a dozen potions.
Umbridge was like she'd been petrified: fully conscious but completely unable to move.
Professor McGonagall had already done all she could by getting her to the hospital; she didn't know what had happened either.
They barely managed to save Umbridge's life. As for how long her paralysis would last, that depended on when a cure could be found.
Madam Pomfrey was out of ideas for now, though she did have a rough theory about the petrification.
Hmm… similar to the basilisk case.
Unfortunately, mandrakes would still take a while to mature.
It would've been something worth celebrating—if it weren't for the exams still going on.
John gathered the fur he had brushed from Mrs. Norris into a small ball, tossed it to her to play with, and walked out of the castle.
As his feet touched the grass, a light sweat appeared on his forehead.
He came to a stop and looked up.
The Whomping Willow swayed gently in the night, and the passage beneath it looked like an entrance to another world.
John walked toward it.
With a flick, he froze the Whomping Willow in place, stepped into the passage, and followed it forward.
He arrived at the Shrieking Shack.
_______
Yo! I'm running low on sleep, so if I messed up Tom's gender in any line, please tell me.😅
o(*￣▽￣*)ブSupport and Read 12 Chapters ahead: Patreon/Dragonel