69novels Chapter 121 Entering Final Exam Review Week
Chapter 121 Entering Final Exam Review Week
Chapter 121 Entering Final Exam Review Week
The Quidditch season heat had barely subsided when a completely different wave of tension, carrying the scent of parchment and ink, quickly swept through Hogwarts Castle. More students hurried through the corridors carrying heavy books, seats in the common rooms and library became scarce, and a silent, anxious current seemed to permeate the air. Exam week, like a huge, slowly descending shadow, loomed over the hearts of every student.
Inside the Eagle's Nest, heavy curtains blocked out all light, and several magical lamps floated throughout the room, emitting a steady, soft white glow. Huge, hastily drawn charts covered the walls, and the air was filled with the distinctive scents of tea, ink, and parchment, along with an atmosphere of focused concentration and slight anxiety.
The large worktable in the center of the room had been cleared out and was piled high with open textbooks, thick reference books, parchment scrolls covered with notes, quill pens, and ink bottles. The four people each occupied a corner, immersed in their own area of study, with only the scratching of pens on paper and the occasional rustling of pages breaking the silence of the room.
The area before Ernesto resembled a miniature historical gallery. He was intently drawing an intricate timeline of magical history on a huge, unfolded parchment, marking major events, figures, and dates with different colored inks. Books on the history of magic lay open beside him.
"Karen, help me check this," Ernesto said without looking up, pointing to a point on the timeline with his quill pen. "The third peak of the goblin rebellion, the one led by Gonuk, was in the mid-14th century, right? The sources I've checked say 1347, some say 1352, and Professor Binns seemed to mention it was during the Black Death?"
Karen put down the parchment she was working on, which detailed the evolution of the Levitation Charm theory, and leaned over to take a look: "Professor Binns mentioned that the goblin Gnouche used the plague unrest in Muggle society to launch a rebellion, sweeping through wizarding villages in southern England. The time should be 1348."
Around 1348, the year the Black Death reached England. The exact year is debated, but it's generally accepted to be the mid-14th century, with the 1348-1350 range being the most likely.
"1348 to 1350, I understand." Ernesto quickly added precise annotations to the corresponding positions on the timeline, a hint of satisfaction flashing in his gray eyes. "Thanks. These chronological details are harder to remember than the faintest stars on a star chart." He then pointed to another point, "And this, the International Wizarding Federation was founded in 1692, right? After the Act of Secrecy?"
"That's right, 1692 was the year after the secrecy laws were formally established," Karen confirmed.
At the other end of the room, Fabian was almost completely engulfed by potion ingredient guides, basic potion recipe tables, and densely packed notes. He was facing an open book of magical potions and elixirs, carefully comparing the recipes with those in the textbook and his own notebook. Before him lay the recipes and step-by-step instructions for scabies potion and boil treatment.
"Merlin's tattered socks!" Fabian suddenly cursed, slamming his quill on the table, splattering ink. "What was Snape thinking? The book clearly says to add the narcissus root powder to the scabies medicine when 'the liquid in the pot turns pale purple, then stir clockwise three times,' but I remember him adding it when he demonstrated in class, just as silver steam was rising and the liquid was still pale blue! He even emphasized 'the timing is fleeting'! Which one is correct? Which one should we follow for the exam? If I don't follow his instructions, even if I succeed, he'll probably deduct points from my score."
He scratched his curly black hair in frustration, looking to Karen for help: "Karen! Your Potions class notes are the most complete! Help me take a look! If there's a test on the practical steps, which one should I write down?"
Karen put down the Transfiguration notes she had just compiled, walked over to Fabian, pulled out her potions notebook, and quickly flipped to the page on scabies potion: "Look here. Professor Snape's original words were: 'Standard textbook steps are for mediocre and cauldron-building types. Truly effective potions require understanding the instantaneous resonance between the materials and the magic. The critical point when the magic in the cauldron begins to activate, the steam begins to glow silver, and the liquid changes from blue to purple is the moment when the narcissus root powder releases its optimal activity.' He did indeed add it when the pale blue steam first appeared, earlier than the 'pale purple' written in the book. He was pursuing the perfect grasp of that 'critical point.' But honestly, I don't think the exam will test that much detail. You're worrying too much, Fabian. Herbalism and potions are both your strengths; your mindset is a bit off!"
Fabian leaned closer to examine Cullen's notes, then suddenly realized, "I know Cullen, but I still can't help thinking about these things. Let me jot this down: 'Magic active, steam beginning to glow silver, the critical point of turning from blue to purple'—So that's it! He's teaching us to perceive that state! Not just memorizing steps!" He breathed a sigh of relief and immediately added Cullen's key description to his own notes, marking it with a small star. "So crucial, Cullen! I almost fell into a trap! Snape is indeed cunning, testing these kinds of comprehension details!" He pushed up his glasses, his fighting spirit rekindled. "And the treatment of the porcupine quills for the boil potion—the book says to crush them, but Snape emphasizes 'keeping the quills intact to activate the potion's properties.'"
Karen smiled helplessly: "Fine, whatever makes you happy. Just be careful here, crushing it will damage the structure and reduce its effectiveness. Be careful to preserve the tip when processing it. For the exam, it's safer to write 'Carefully crush it, preserving the structural integrity of the tip'."
"Understood! Keep the tip!" Fabian immediately noted it down.
Wesley was scratching his head, staring at an open book, *Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Defense*, and several drawings of ugly little creatures. The drawings included Red Hat, Kaba, and Grindylo. Next to them were notes that read, "Red Hat: Trap, Blood, Iron Salt," "Kaba: Puddle, Bowing, Water on Head," and "Grindylo: Underwater, Hair, Eye Gouging."
"Merlin!" Wesley cried out, slamming his head on his book. "These little monsters are so creepy! Why does Red Hat always hide in the shadows? What's the point of Kaba's bowl of water on his head? Why is Grindelwald's hair a weakness? Can't the textbook choose some cool biology subjects? I'm sure I could remember them!"
Ernesto replied without looking up, "Because they are common, dangerous, and something a younger student can handle on their own. It's better to remember their characteristics and weaknesses than to be terrified when you encounter them."
Karen added, "The Red Hat is bloodthirsty, uses traps to harm people, and is afraid of iron and salt; the Kaba likes puddles, the water on its head is its source of power, and it becomes weak when it bows and the water flows away; the Greendylo pulls people's ankles underwater, and is afraid of being poked in the eyes and having its hair pulled. Just remember the key ways to deal with them, don't worry about why they look the way they do."
Wesley sighed and resignedly drew a salt shaker next to "Red Hat is afraid of salt".
Then the atmosphere in the Eagle's Nest returned to what it was before. Suddenly, Wesley put down his book, stood up, and ran out, not giving anyone a chance to ask questions.
After a while, the door to the Eagle's Nest was carefully pushed open a crack, and Wesley poked his head in with a fawning smile, carrying a large tray piled high with things, and wobbled as he squeezed in.
"Halftime break! Supplies delivered!" he announced cheerfully, placing the heavy tray with a clatter into the gap at the edge of the workbench. The tray was laden with contents: a large pot of steaming black tea, four clean mugs, a stack of toasted bread slices spread thickly with butter and raspberry jam, a large bag of sizzling honey candy, and a few pieces of chocolate frog.
The rich aroma of tea and the sweet scent of food instantly dispelled the tense study atmosphere in the room.
"Oh! Wesley! My savior!" Fabian was the first to drop his quill, practically lunging forward, grabbing a slice of toast and taking a huge bite, mumbling, "I feel like my brain has been boiled into a pot of porridge by the potion recipe!"
Ernesto looked up from the timeline, rubbed his sore eyes, and walked to the tray to pour himself a cup of hot tea. "Perfect timing. My eyes need a rest, and my neck is practically frozen solid." He carefully picked up a piece of honeydew candy.
Karen put down her documents, stretched her stiff shoulders, and picked up a cup of tea. "Thanks, Wesley. Perfect timing."
Wesley chuckled smugly, grabbed a slice of bread, and plopped down on the carpet. "Of course! Logistics is my specialty! Seeing how engrossed you all are in learning, I almost felt bad disturbing you. But work and rest are important!" He took a sip of tea, sighed contentedly, and then pulled another small notebook from his pocket like a treasure. The cover, written in crooked handwriting, read "The Complete Rules of Quidditch (Wesley's Annotated Edition)".
"Come on, let's clear our heads! Look at this Quidditch essentials I've compiled these past few days!" Wesley enthusiastically flipped open his notebook, his reddish-brown hair swaying with his movements. "Do you guys know exactly how the 'Reverse Golden Snitch' foul is defined? I did a lot of research and finally figured it out! Not every somersault after catching the snitch counts; the key is whether you intentionally use your body to obstruct the Seeker's view or hinder its flight path—"
Fabian nodded perfunctorily while chewing on his bread, "Mmm, impressive, impressive." His mind was clearly still on the potion.
Ernesto, however, seemed intrigued, listening as he sipped his tea: "Go on, this dividing line is indeed easy to blur. The referee has a lot of discretion."
Wesley immediately perked up, launching into a frenzied explanation of the classic cases and rule details he had collected, attempting to dispel the tedium of review with the passion of Quidditch. Karen listened quietly, occasionally sipping her tea, letting Wesley's voice and the warmth of the tea temporarily wash away the complexities of her alchemical studies. At times like these, Wesley's presence acted as a wonderful buffer.
After a short tea break, Eagle's Nest returned to a state of high concentration. The quiz game began, a crucial test of memory and on-the-spot reaction skills.
"Karen, it's your turn!" Ernesto picked up his Transfiguration textbook, cleared his throat, and said, "What are the core points of the three basic principles of Transfiguration that Professor McGonagall emphasized? Recite them in your own words, don't just read from the book."
Karen put down his notes on controlling the levitation spell's power output, paused briefly, and then answered clearly and fluently: "First, the absolute dominance of will. Transformation is the wizard's will forcibly defining and rewriting the form of matter. A clear and firm will is fundamental; any wavering can lead to unstable transformation or even dangerous backfire. Second, precise mapping of magic power. The output magic power must precisely correspond to every detail of the target form. The magic structure must achieve a 'resonance mapping' with the internal structure of the matter, rather than a crude overlay. Third, the understanding of the potential plasticity of matter. Understanding the material, structural characteristics, and inherent 'form memory' of the object being transformed helps reduce magic power consumption and improve transformation efficiency and stability. The core lies in the high degree of unity between will, magic power, and the understanding of the object." His speech was steady and his logic clear.
Ernesto nodded and ticked it in his notebook: "Very good, very thorough understanding. Fabian, it's your turn. Briefly describe the differences between scabies medicine and boil medicine in terms of core ingredients, key manufacturing steps, and main uses."
Fabian immediately sat up straight, adjusted his glasses, and recited rapidly as if reciting a memorized text: "Core ingredients: The scabies potion mainly uses dried nettles, snake tooth powder, and narcissus root powder; the boil-treating potion mainly uses slugs with tentacles, porcupine quills, and ginger root. Key steps: The difficulty with the scabies potion lies in grasping the 'critical point' when adding the narcissus root powder; the key to the boil-treating potion is the treatment of the porcupine quills, paying attention to preserving the sharp ends, and controlling the speed of stirring counterclockwise seven times. Uses: The scabies potion treats small pustules on the skin caused by magical accumulation or contact with cursed items; the boil-treating potion is used to treat deeper, more painful magical abscesses." He paused, then added, "I think Snape will definitely test this distinction! He might even make us identify the color changes of the two potions!"
"Good, you got the materials and uses right, and you also mentioned the key steps," Ernesto commented. "The color change part is well done; the scabies potion turns from blue to purple, and the boil potion is dark green and bubbling. Wesley, don't dodge! It's your turn! Defense Against the Dark Arts, what are the three most effective ways to deal with Red Hats? And what about Kaba?"
Wesley, who was secretly peeling the wrapper off the Chocolate Frog, jerked his hand, and the frog almost jumped out. He quickly stuffed the chocolate into his mouth and mumbled, "Listen—Red Hat? First, don't go into the dark areas where it sets traps! Second, sprinkle salt on it! It's terrified of salt! Third, hit it with an iron object! As for Kaba? Well, first, don't go near the puddle it's in! Second, try to make it bow! Once the bowl of water on its head runs out, it'll lose its strength! Third—what—run?" He became less and less confident as he spoke.
Ernesto sighed. "Kaba's third point is: if conditions permit, use a cucumber with your name engraved on it to approach him. Although I think this is stupid, running away is a last resort; it's fast in the water. Go back and read pages 3 and 5 of Professor Victor's 'Handbook for Dealing with Common Dark Creatures' three more times!"
Wesley gave an "Oh," and quickly opened the booklet.
It was Karen's turn to ask a question. He looked at Ernesto: "Ernesto, Potions. If, when preparing a scabies potion, the liquid in the potion turns dark green prematurely after adding dried nettles—for example, before it's been heated sufficiently—instead of the expected light blue, what could be causing this? And how can it be remedied?"
Ernesto frowned, racking his brains: "Turns dark green too early? Listen—maybe the dried nettles weren't ground finely enough, or—uneven heating at the bottom of the pile causing localized overheating? Or maybe the stirring was too vigorous and shredded the material? A fix?" He hesitated, "...Stop heating? Add another portion of finely ground dried nettles? Or—add a small amount of unicorn tears to neutralize?"
Karen noted, "Snape mentioned that premature greening usually indicates an excessive release of active substances from dried nettles, leading to over-reaction with the base solvent. This could be caused by coarsely ground nettles resulting in uneven heating and localized charring, or by improper stirring introducing too much air and accelerating oxidation. Remedy: Immediately stop heating and slowly add a small amount of chilled moon dew water—just 1-2 drops is sufficient."
Allow it to cool and stabilize the reaction, then slowly reheat it over a low flame, observing whether the color change returns to its normal trajectory. If it has already burned,
The only option is to redo it.
"Oh! Right, right! Moon dew has a stable cooling effect!" Ernesto suddenly realized, quickly noting it down. "Got it, got it!"
He turned to Fabian: "Fabian, History of Magic. Briefly describe the two groups of wizards who faced the strongest opposition when the International Law of Secrecy was formally established in 1692. What were the reasons?"
Fabian replied without hesitation: "First, some pure-blood extreme families. They believe the Secret Law is an insult and restriction to the inherent superiority of wizards, and they argue that wizards have the right to rule or openly supersede Muggles. Second, some wizards who have close ties with Muggle society, or even intermarry with them, especially some wizards living in Muggle towns. They worry that the Secret Law will completely sever their lives, causing them to lose their means of livelihood and relatives and friends, and that its implementation will be extremely difficult and costly."
"Very good." Karen nodded, then looked at Wesley, who had just finished reviewing the biology handbook. "Wesley, Defense Against the Dark Arts practice..."
If you were to spot Grindelwald in the reeds by Black Lake, what steps would you take to ensure your safety and leave?
Wesley was better prepared this time: "First, stop immediately and slowly back away from the water's edge! Don't let it have a chance to grab my feet! Second, draw your wand and point it where it might appear, loudly chanting 'Flicker!' or making a loud noise to scare it! Grindelwald isn't very brave! Third, walk away slowly, don't run! Don't turn your back to it! Keep your eyes on the water! If it dares to pounce, poke its eyes hard with your wand, or chant 'Flicker!' and slap it in the face! Oh, and grab its hair!"
"Good! The steps were clear and the response was reasonable this time." Karen gave her approval, and Wesley proudly raised his chin.
The quiz session cycled through tension and focus. Time slipped away silently beneath the pens and amidst the questions and answers. The sky outside the window had long since changed from bright to deep blue, finally settling into inky black. The lights in the Eagle's Nest seemed even brighter and warmer. The parchment piled up higher, and a thin layer of mist, condensed from focused concentration, seemed to have settled on Fabian's glasses.
During a brief silence, Wesley rubbed his throbbing temples, staring at the mountain of documents, and couldn't help but lament, "Merlin—and there's the poisonous tentacle property in herbalism, the Treaty of the War of Giants in the history of magic, the key points of the levitation spell in spells. I feel like my brain is a cauldron that's been stuffed to bursting; any more stuff and it'll explode!"
Fabian also took off his glasses, wearily pressing his knuckles against the bridge of his nose: "Although I really like potions—I feel like I dream about cutting porcupine quills every night, and having to be careful to keep the sharp ends intact."
Ernesto leaned back in his chair, staring blankly at the sphere of light suspended above the ceiling: "The dates of history—names of people, places, treaties—they're all fighting in my head—"
Karen put down his materials. Although it wasn't due to studying, a deep weariness washed over him. He looked around the space, which was filled with books and parchment, and saw the same tiredness on his three roommates' faces, and the indomitable spirit that still shone beneath that weariness. Wesley complained, but the book "A Thousand Wonderful Herbs and Mushrooms" beside him was already worn out; behind the fog on Fabian's glasses was his dedication to solving the Krusepe Problem; Ernesto's vacant eyes seemed to still be connecting the dots of the exam questions.
A strange warmth, mixed with admiration for his companion's resilience and an urge to do something, quietly rose in Karen's heart.
He could clearly feel the heavy pressure permeating the eagle's nest; the invisible vines were tightly binding everyone's spirit. He remembered Professor Flitwick's words—the Patronus Charm is not only a shield against Dementors, but also a light that gathers positive emotions and dispels gloom.
Karen gently picked up the wand, and without hesitation, he clearly recited the spell: "EpectoPatronum".
In an instant, the tip of the staff emitted a dazzling silver light! The light was stronger and purer than ever before, flowing out as if it were a tangible substance, quickly and steadily condensing and shaping—a clear, elegant, silver-white snow raven, exuding both a chilling light and a warm aura, took flight! Spreading its broad wings, it silently circled in the center of the eagle's nest, every feather flowing with pure silver radiance.
Bright silver light poured down, gently enveloping the entire room, illuminating every tired yet youthful face, and the mountain of books and notes piled on the table. A powerful and pure warmth, hope, and peace spread with the silver light, like an invisible warm current washing over everyone's body and mind. The heavy pressure and sticky fatigue, like ice and snow exposed to sunlight, quickly melted and dissipated.
"Phew—" Wesley let out a long sigh of relief, as if a huge burden had been lifted. A smile returned to his face. "That feels much better! Karen, you're a real rascal!"
Fabian took a deep breath, as if inhaling a clear mountain spring. He put his glasses back on, his eyes reflecting a silvery light behind the lenses.
He looked exceptionally bright and alert, all the previous tension gone: "It's so timely, my mind feels so clear, like I've taken an energy booster." He looked at the swirling snow, a hint of longing in his eyes, "When will my guardian spirit be this solid?"
Ernesto sat up straight, his fatigue vanishing instantly. His eyes followed the silver figure intently, a relaxed expression on his face. "It seems the Patronus Charm not only repels Dementors, but it's practically the bane of negative emotions. Every time I see it, it invigorates me." He stretched his stiff shoulders, feeling an unprecedented sense of ease.
The silvery snowflakes gracefully swirled twice in the room, scattering silvery specks with each flap of their wings. This continued for about ten seconds before, as if fulfilling their mission, they transformed into a streak of light and slowly dissipated into the air. But the invigorating warmth, the clear mind, and the tranquility remained, as if infusing the room with new vitality.
Karen watched the silvery glow completely disappear, feeling the distinct shift in the atmosphere within the Eagle's Nest—the heavy pressure dissipated, replaced by a more focused, more positive energy. A slight smile played on his lips as he looked at his three roommates, also bathed in the lingering glow and radiant with vitality. His voice was calm and clear, carrying a sense of understanding beyond exams and books:
"Perhaps, true magic has never been confined to spells and potions." His gaze swept over the mountain of notes, over Wesley's open Quidditch rulebook, and finally settled on his friends' brightening eyes. "It's here too. In the Eagle's Nest, in every thick book we've devoured together, every question we've debated, every loaf of bread we've shared, and—us standing side by side right now, and this light we've ignited together."
The fatigue and stress seemed to have truly been carried away by the silver snow raven. Wes slapped his thigh forcefully, full of fighting spirit: "Well said! Who cares about the exam! The four of us are together, and we have our guardian angel protecting us, what are we afraid of! Let's go again!"
Fabian smiled, picked up his potions notebook again, his eyes sharp and confident: "The Patronus has cleared the area for us! I refuse to believe I can't handle these details! Watch me!"
Ernesto took a deep breath, the crispness of which seemed to still linger. He sat back down at his timeline, his pen once again steady and powerful: "Continue. One step closer to conquering exam week. My thoughts feel much clearer."
Under the lamplight, four figures once again buried themselves in piles of books, and the rustling sound of writing became the main melody again.