[Note: Read up to Chapter - 111 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]
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In truth, a whole month before the Hogwarts term even began, Aris had already completed the coursework up to fifth year.
Granted, this only applied to what was covered in the standard textbooks.
But all of those could be purchased easily enough from Flourish and Blotts. And with talents like photographic memory, super speed reading, and enhanced reasoning, it hadn't been much of a challenge for him. Most of his real energy had gone into studying ancient magical circles and practical applications.
"It's unbelievable… He's finished the entire third-year paper in just twenty minutes!"
Professor Flitwick finally stood up in astonishment as Aris set down the third completed test.
Snape, standing nearby, narrowed his eyes at the boy, a deep furrow forming between his brows.
He simply couldn't fathom it—how could a first-year, barely in school a month, solve problems meant for third-years?
And it wasn't even as if Aris looked like he was struggling. That part unnerved Snape most of all.
Were today's students just getting freakishly clever?
No… no, that wasn't it. Potter and his merry band of Gryffindors certainly weren't this capable. Even Malfoy, who Snape had high hopes for, couldn't come close.
No, forget 'couldn't'. It was outright impossible.
Yet Aris sat here calmly, breezing through it all.
Even though the tests hadn't been officially marked, Snape had scanned a few of the Potions questions over Aris's shoulder—and to his irritation, they were bang on.
It was like watching Merlin reincarnated in front of him.
"Aris," Flitwick finally asked, voice somewhere between awe and disbelief, "do you wish to carry on with the next one?"
As Aris picked up the fourth exam paper, Professor Flitwick's voice cracked slightly with excitement.
"What's the matter, Professor? Can't I just carry on?" Aris asked, a bit puzzled.
"Yes, yes—of course you can!" Flitwick replied quickly, looking slightly flustered. Still, he couldn't help blurting out, "Are you absolutely certain you're ready for fourth-year material? You don't have to push yourself. If you'd rather stop here…"
Off to the side, Snape threw Aris a rather odd look as well.
But Aris just gave a calm smile and replied, "It's alright, Professor. I'll give it a go."
With that, he settled down and began scanning through the fourth paper.
Meanwhile, outside the Charms classroom, the crowd of students had grown restless.
Many of them were now pressed up against the windows. A few of the older students had even whipped out enchanted devices to improve their hearing, using every magical trick they had to catch the faintest word from inside.
"Did you hear that just now? Sounded like Professor Flitwick… didn't he mention something about third-year topics?"
"I heard it too. Why's he talking about third years when it's just a first-year test?"
"I dunno, but I saw Professor Flitwick hand Aris a whole stack of parchment earlier. No way that's just first-year material—it looked like half the library!"
"You reckon… he's taking higher-level tests?"
As the whispers and wild guesses spread through the corridor, confusion quickly turned to shock.
More and more students were now convinced something unusual was going on—something far beyond standard first-year exams.
Gasps and murmurs of disbelief rippled through the crowd.
And yet, at the far end of the corridor, neither Headmaster Dumbledore nor Professor McGonagall had budged.
Their continued presence only added fuel to the fire.
To the younger students watching, it felt like something truly extraordinary was unfolding right before their eyes.
The two most respected professors at Hogwarts had spent nearly an entire class period together—just to watch a single first-year student take a test?
That sort of attention was unheard of. No student had ever been treated like this before.
"Albus… I believe your hunch may've been spot on," Professor McGonagall said quietly, her expression unusually serious.
Both of them knew the content of the test papers, and through the window, they'd watched Aris calmly work through them one after another.
"That's already the fourth test paper. It seems this young boy has given us far more than just a pleasant surprise," she murmured.
A peculiar gleam flickered in Dumbledore's eyes behind his half-moon spectacles.
It was the kind of look one might have upon discovering a priceless relic—or witnessing something miraculous.
Even he couldn't help feeling astonished by what he was seeing.
He was certain that, in all the long years of Hogwarts' history, no student had ever demonstrated such brilliance.
In fact, it was beginning to feel as though "gifted" was far too modest a word.
At this point, Dumbledore wouldn't have been surprised if someone told him Aris was the reincarnation of the God of Magic himself.
The boy had stunned even him—Dumbledore, who had seen it all.
For once in a very long time, the old headmaster found himself genuinely excited… and unable to remain entirely composed.
"Albus," McGonagall said suddenly, her voice low, "I wonder… should we clear these students out of the corridor?"
"If word gets out, the truth of what Aris is doing in that classroom could rattle the whole school."
Her gaze shifted toward the crowd of wide-eyed young witches and wizards huddled near the Charms door.
"Many of them are still quite young. A blow like this could crush their confidence."
"Even the older students might struggle to accept it. Imagine how they'll feel when they learn a first-year—an eleven-year-old—has breezed through work meant for their year… or higher."
Sometimes, encountering someone too extraordinary, too early, wasn't always a blessing.
He was just a first-year—fresh through the doors of Hogwarts and as green as they come!
And yet, if an eleven-year-old lad could tackle problems meant for fourth- or even fifth-years without breaking a sweat… then what did that say about all the older students who'd spent years slogging through their lessons?
What was the point of all their hard work?
"It's no good," Dumbledore sighed at last, his voice heavy with a strange mix of wonder and inevitability.
"That boy… he's destined to become the brightest star of his generation. The whole wizarding world will soon know his name."
"Rather than dimming his light for the sake of others, we ought to let it shine freely. Who knows? Perhaps that brilliance might shatter the old limits… breathe new life into our stagnant world… maybe even herald a new age entirely."
As the old wizard spoke in a low, musing voice, Professor McGonagall's expression shifted—she'd just heard something truly astonishing.
Her eyes slowly turned toward the silver-haired headmaster.
"Albus… you can't be serious?"
Dumbledore's gaze remained fixed on the boy in the classroom. His eyes, full of depth and wisdom, reflected the weight of decades of experience.
"In all my years, Minerva, I don't think I've ever been more serious."
Then, as if he'd finally made peace with some great truth, the old man let out a soft breath. A hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips.
"Perhaps," he murmured, "this isn't such a bad thing after all…"
…
In the classroom, Aris was still scribbling away furiously.
He could feel the questions on the fourth-year paper had stepped up a notch in difficulty, but with his current knowledge base, it wasn't much of a challenge.
Twenty-five minutes later, he stopped writing.
He set the finished parchment to one side and reached for the final roll.
"This last one's at fifth-year level," Flitwick murmured, sounding almost dazed. Though his expression still carried a hint of amazement, his tone had shifted—less excitement now, more a sort of stunned resignation. Like a man watching the impossible unfold and finally deciding to just let it happen.
In truth, only he knew just how flabbergasted he really was.
"The fifth paper…"
"When we put this one together, we never imagined he'd actually make it this far," Snape added, his tone oddly subdued. And though his voice was steady, the faint tremor in his hands betrayed the chaos churning inside.
"These questions are basically OWL-level. If he breezes through this as well…"
Flitwick didn't bother finishing the sentence—but Snape understood.
If Aris could handle even this last test paper with ease, then the lad had already built up the knowledge reserve expected of a fully-trained wizard.
Assuming his answers weren't wildly off the mark, with a touch of formal tutoring, the boy might be ready to sit for his OWLs straightaway.
But he's only eleven. Just eleven!
In all the annals of the wizarding world, nothing like this had ever happened.
Even if Hogwarts did give him the go-ahead… would the Ministry of Magic believe something so utterly bonkers and issue him a certificate?
While the two professors were deep in thought, Aris had already finished scanning the questions on the final test paper.
He reckoned it was manageable—most of the questions fell well within the range of his current knowledge.
In other words, he now had the ability to at least attempt the OWLs.
This was the first time he'd properly grasped the extent of his knowledge base.
Still, he wasn't overly thrilled. With the three academic talents gifted by the system, results like this were well within expectations.
And this—this was just the beginning.
If he were to study at Hogwarts for the full seven years, he might very well surpass even Dumbledore in sheer knowledge.
Right now, though, Aris was calm as anything.
He spent five minutes reading through all the questions, then quietly set to work.
"D'you reckon he'll actually manage to finish it?" Flitwick asked quietly, clearly more anxious than Aris himself.
Snape didn't reply straight away. Arms crossed, chin resting on one hand, he simply stared at Aris with a deep, thoughtful expression.
For reasons he couldn't quite explain, he suddenly had a gut feeling—this boy might just pull it off.
By now, Snape's opinion of Aris had shifted completely.
He'd long since forgotten that the lad had skipped his very first class.
With talent like that, Snape supposed he might've done the same. Why waste time sitting through something you'd already mastered?
He still didn't like the boy's attitude—but he was beginning to understand it.
"Let's see how far he gets," Snape finally muttered.
The professors fell silent again.
All that remained was the gentle scratch of Aris's quill dancing across parchment.
The room was still as anything—not even a whisper from the corridor. Every single person, inside and out, had their attention fixed on the boy scribbling away in the heart of the Charms classroom.
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"Did you lot notice that?"
Out in the corridor, Hermione turned sharply to Harry and Ron, her brows furrowed with urgency.
"Aris's test—it's got five papers, and now… he's already on the last one!"
"So?" Harry frowned, puzzled.
"What's that supposed to mean…?" Ron looked just as lost.
Clearly, neither of them were following the clever witch's train of thought.
"This is huge!" Hermione suddenly spun back around, her voice low and intense.
"I think I've figured out what this test actually means!"
"Aris is insanely talented—maybe more so than anyone else at Hogwarts right now!"
"Think about it. After all those times he disrupted class, did either of you ever stop to wonder why he did it?"
"Why?" Harry blinked. Ron shrugged.
"Because he reckons it's all a waste of his time!" Hermione declared, eyes gleaming.
"With the kind of talent he's got, I wouldn't be surprised if he's already finished the entire first-year syllabus!"
Hermione looked dead certain. After all, she had already gone through most of the coursework herself, and it had taken time—even with her obsessive study habits.
If she struggled, and Aris had photographic memory… well, it added up.
"I reckon he stirred up a fuss in class deliberately—so the professors would give him some sort of special treatment, like more freedom to pursue what he wants."
"The professors wouldn't just hand that over, obviously, so instead—they gave him a test!"
"A test to evaluate how far ahead he actually is, so they can figure out what kind of tutoring or curriculum he needs going forward!"
"If we look at it that way, then the five papers must each be set at a different difficulty level. He must've started with the easiest one!"
"And now he's on the last…"
"So that means—he's made it all the way to the hardest one?" Ron said slowly, eyes widening as it finally clicked.
"Exactly!" Hermione nodded, her tone almost breathless.
"And if he finishes that one too… it means he's already at least as good as a fifth-year student!"
Ron let out a low whistle. Harry just stared.
None of this was normal.
And suddenly, the test behind those classroom doors seemed a whole lot more important.
"Well, it's dead obvious, innit?" Hermoine rolled her eyes in exasperation.
At that moment, Harry finally seemed to catch on.
"The key here has to be the difficulty of those papers... each one probably matches the level of a certain school year..."
The more he thought about it, the more unsettled he looked. His face turned pale with disbelief.
"The first paper was first-year stuff..."
"The second was second-year..."
"And now the fifth… that must be fifth-year knowledge!"
Hermione's chest was rising and falling sharply, her expression shifting through a mix of awe and disbelief.
"You mean to say, Aris is working through questions meant for fifth-years?" Ron was gobsmacked, staring at them as if they'd all gone barmy.
"It's just a theory," Hermione said, trying to sound calm, but her voice still trembled. "But I doubt we're far off the mark."
She turned again, eyes locked on Aris through the classroom window.
Her mind was racing. She just couldn't stay calm.
"Are we maybe just overthinking this..." Ron asked, dragging his hands through his hair in exaggerated frustration.
"I mean, Aris is a first-year—same as us! There's no way he's solving fifth-year stuff. That's just mental!"
"Is he really the same as us?" Harry asked quietly, turning to Ron with a serious look on his face.
"Maybe... maybe he's just a bit smarter. Bit more powerful too, yeah?" Ron offered with a sheepish shrug.
"Just… a bit?" Hermione asked, her voice low and oddly hollow.
And with that, all three of them fell silent.
None of their expressions changed, but something had clearly shifted.
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Drop power Powerstonessssssssss!
[Note: Read up to Chapter - 111 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]