The Charms exam task was to make a pear tap-dance its way across a desk. Professor Flitwick graded them based on how well they performed the spell.
Some students couldn't cast it properly and their pears started doing jazz; some lost control and the pear even transformed into a frog.
In magic exams there were always all sorts of bizarre mistakes. It wasn't unheard of for a student to accidentally turn their classmate into a badger.
So they were sent into the classroom one at a time, and the professors checked their learning results individually.
"Excellent —"
Professor Flitwick exclaimed in admiration.
In the Charms classroom, he looked at Sean with satisfaction. Sean's pear had already danced across, and he'd used a nonverbal spell to do it.
Once they left the Charms room, the next few days followed the same pattern.
Sometimes it was theory: like the orbital paths of Jupiter's moons.
Sometimes it was practical: for example, Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox — the more beautiful the snuffbox, the higher the score; if there were still whiskers on it, points were deducted.
Aside from Sean, Ron and Hermione both did quite well in that exam.
When they regrouped in the corridor, Ron looked as if McGonagall had just complimented him — his face was scarlet, like a carrot that had been left out in the sun too long.
Today was the last day of exams.
At the long table, Neville was muttering over A Beginner's Guide to Potions; next to him, Hermione had three open notebooks spread in front of her and was rapidly correcting the parts Harry had memorised wrong in History of Magic. Sometimes the members of the Hope Nook would quiz each other on the History of Magic timeline, but Sean felt simple quizzing covered too little and wasn't very useful.
In any case, after surviving the nerve-wracking Potions exam with Snape looming behind them…
If they could just hold on for one more hour and answer which eccentric old wizards invented the self-stirring cauldron, they'd be free, and could spend a whole week relaxing until results were posted.
When Professor Binns' ghost told them to put down their quills and roll up their exam parchment, Sean heard the students around him burst into cheers they could no longer hold back.
They walked out into blazing sunshine, as if honey had been poured over Hogwarts Castle. The students felt like they were about to melt.
At the front steps, warm light poured over the grass and lowered the line of roofs and windows. The grass was going to seed, the wind shook its blades, and they all looked out at the green fields, breathing in a faint, sweet scent.
"That was much easier than I thought,"
Hermione said, as they walked with the crowd out onto the sunlit grounds,
"I needn't have memorised The Werewolf Code of Conduct, 1637, or the details of the goblin rebellions."
"Maybe, but the exam's over now — do you have to help me relive it?"
Hermione loved to review the entire paper afterwards; Ron said it made him feel sick.
"You should sum up your year's work. If you don't know what your problems are, how will you improve?"
Hermione frowned, lecturing.
"The weather's so nice… I just saw a giant squid…"
Ron tried to change the subject. He knew Hermione was right — but knowing and doing were two very different things.
"Hermione, we've been working non-stop, studying like mad almost every day. We should rest a bit, shouldn't we?"
Justin cut in gently.
"Yes, yes,"
Ron latched on as if he'd seen a saviour. Then his eyes slid over to Sean, who hadn't brought any books outside,
"Sean, what do you think?"
Sean looked at Ron and Harry. They'd changed a lot; with steady effort, they'd probably even done well in Potions now.
"Summaries can be done any time. Want to go see the giant squid?"
"Oh, of course, I knew that's what we should do."
Ron said smugly.
"Sean finished his summary ages ago."
Hermione slipped that in, deadpan.
Ron looked from Sean to Hermione and fell silent.
They strolled lazily down the slope to the lakeshore and plopped down under a tree. Out on the shallows, the giant squid was sprawled in the warm water, sunning itself; the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were gently poking at its tentacles.
With the pressure of exams gone, everyone chatted happily under the tree about their recent escapades in the Forbidden Forest. Right now they wanted to shout it to the world —
They had foiled Voldemort's plot.
Sean watched them quietly, then took some alchemical materials out of his bag.
While the others enjoyed their rare free time, he created yet another new alchemical item.
…
Leisure never lasts long; soon it was time for results.
Everyone in the Hope Nook had done well: Sean was first by a huge margin — supposedly not a single professor could bring themselves to dock him even one point.
He'd blitzed through the exams with full marks.
Hermione came second. She was a bit unhappy about that, but on the other hand, quite satisfied—she'd solidly beaten Justin.
That night, after results were posted, Sean headed into the depths of the Forbidden Forest.
His centaur teacher was, as always, waiting right on time — not a minute early, not a second late.
Sean's divination magic had reached five points of proficiency, but because prophecy magic was so wildly uncertain, he'd yet to summarise anything very concrete from it.
Firenze, however, remained very pleased with his progress.
"Let's learn some herb types. As summer approaches, we'll be using sage and dittany…"
Just then, a strong wind gusted through, and Sean pulled out his latest alchemical creation — an astronomical instrument.
It was a small ring-shaped object which quickly expanded on the ground, flared with fire, and blocked the wind.
"What is that?"
The centaur teacher seemed to be seeing such a thing for the first time.
"Just a simple device. It can make fire, block wind — and help with stargazing."
Sean explained; with a flick of his hand, the instrument hopped into his palm and a telescope-like tube extended from its inner ring.
A slight ripple passed through Firenze's usually calm eyes.
For a long time, the centaur tribe had simply obeyed nature: when the stars grew dim or strong winds rose, they waited for the sky to clear again. That was tradition, and also because they had no alternatives.
The astronomical instrument proved far more useful than expected; in the following days, neither wind nor cloud troubled Sean's observations.
Holiday time was drawing closer, and so was the final Quidditch match.
Sean didn't much care about that, but the things he did have to do were steadily piling up.