When Sean left the alchemy office, the sunset glow was so red it almost felt hot.
Professor Tayra had already secured suppliers, and had even used her own alchemy workshop to build a complete production chain.
That meant they really could meet the needs of wizards across the entire magical world.
The only problem was that the mass-produced Magic Hand Mirrors were extremely poor in quality. The magical circuitry Sean had engraved into them was something an alchemy apprentice couldn't understand at all—and even witches and wizards who had spent years in the trade would struggle to reproduce perfectly.
As a result, even the best Magic Hand Mirrors would only last about two years.
And Professor Tayra had actually laughed and said that was a good thing…
There was a sly glint in her eyes that Sean had never seen before.
It made Sean feel like he still had a very long road ahead in the field of alchemy.
…
Bright spring arrived.
The weather grew sunnier and warmer, with gentle breezes—but the young witches and wizards were stuck indoors all day, doing homework, running back and forth to the library.
Maybe course selection had made everyone feel pressed for time, or maybe the professors had simply assigned more work. Either way, as Easter break approached, it felt like the students had endless things to do.
They discussed not only the course choices that had just ended, but also the future exams.
"Didn't you know? In fifth year we have to take a terrifying set of exams.
Fred and George Weasley will have to start working hard next year—they're going to take their O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Levels).
And Percy's getting ready for his N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), the highest qualification Hogwarts offers.
Percy has to keep his grades excellent—he's desperate to get into the Ministry."
Ron flailed his arms dramatically at breakfast.
"O.W.L.s?" Harry asked helplessly.
"Ordinary Wizarding Levels, Harry. Every fifth-year takes them," Ron said.
"Hmph—Professor McGonagall said her N.E.W.T. class only accepts students who scored at least an 'Exceeds Expectations' in their O.W.L.s," Hermione added.
"And what are N.E.W.T.s?" Harry's head was spinning.
"Oh, Harry—Wood's trained you stupid. Justin explained it just the other day…"
Ron boomed, then abruptly stopped. He remembered Harry hadn't been there—he'd been at training—so the words stuck in his throat.
In the end, his face puffed up like he'd swallowed a slug.
"They're the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests," Justin patiently explained again. "After fifth year, Hogwarts drops the current classes and only keeps a select group of high-performing students for N.E.W.T. courses. Those students stay at Hogwarts to continue studying, and then sit the N.E.W.T.s."
"What if you don't want to take them?" Harry blurted out, thinking of Potions.
Two more years of that…
He shook his head hard.
"Then you leave Hogwarts, Harry," Justin said.
"No…"
Harry reacted as if he'd been hit with a hammer.
Suddenly even Potions seemed gentle and lovable.
"You can choose the subjects you like, Harry. You don't have to take everything," Hermione said.
At the mention of taking everything, Hermione turned her head and glanced at Sean.
He ate quietly, without making a sound.
After hearing their conversation, he slipped into that familiar thoughtful state again.
It was easy to tell when his mood shifted—his eating slowed down noticeably.
Sean sipped pumpkin juice and thought about Hogwarts's education system, and what paths awaited young witches and wizards.
Hogwarts had two major exams: O.W.L.s, then N.E.W.T.s.
In order, they determined a wizard's future.
For example, St Mungo's Hospital required at least an 'E' on the N.E.W.T.s in Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, and Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Aurors required at least five N.E.W.T.s, none below 'E'.
But most students didn't realize that. They only knew they had to do well in every class, so that when career guidance finally arrived, they'd still have enough options.
Justin and Sean realized this at the same time. Justin instinctively glanced sideways, and by coincidence, Sean met his eyes.
"So… the magical world doesn't have career counselling?" Justin whispered.
"In fifth year it does," Sean said. "Career guidance too early doesn't necessarily help."
"Mm. But we're different, aren't we?" Justin said, casting a pointed glance at Harry.
Lately Harry had been wavering between going to training and skipping it.
"Yes," Sean replied softly.
Outside the windows of Hogwarts, the morning looked dazzling.
The sky was a clear, misty pink-blue. Facing the window, Sean could see the tall beech tree at the edge of the Forbidden Forest—Hagrid was working there, wearing a coat that wasn't very thick, his beard twitching as he moved.
Easter was coming, and along with it came news of Lockhart's trial.
People were so shocked they practically swallowed their tongues.
In the Great Hall, when the news was announced, Professor McGonagall's first reaction was to stare hard at Sean.
Beside her, the professors were delighted. No one liked Lockhart—Professor Sprout even drank a few more Butterbeers than usual, a flush rising into her cheeks.
The students held the latest Daily Prophet and couldn't believe that Lockhart—holder of the Order of Merlin, Third Class—had deceived the entire magical world.
Even more surprising: Rita Skeeter was still the lead writer.
Somewhere along the way, that "notorious" journalist had apparently "turned over a new leaf."
Her reporting was still flamboyant, but at least it wasn't pure fabrication anymore.
And Rita herself had been riding a wave of success lately.
With ready-made explosive news, why would she bother adding her own exaggerations?
After all, even as a Daily Prophet reporter, she wasn't always the star columnist—otherwise she wouldn't have had to turn into a beetle and skulk around for stories.
But ever since she'd gotten involved with that person…
"Defence Against the Dark Arts has been cancelled?" Harry asked excitedly.
"Looks like it!" Ron answered at once. "Besides, we've already had loads of 'practical experience' in that area."
Ron even said this to a gloomy Hermione.
"You're overthinking it!" Hermione snapped.
She looked at Dumbledore, whose beard was long and white.
Sure enough, the kindly headmaster announced that Professor Snape would be the temporary instructor.
As Harry went blank and Ron put on a funeral face, Sean realized something.
The Defence Against the Dark Arts post was cursed—anyone who took it never lasted a full year.
But Snape was always the substitute, and never stayed a year.
Was that… exploiting a loophole in the curse?
~~~
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