"HP: Too Late, System!"Chapter 330: The Exams Begin
Douglas noticed the subtle shift in Professor Snape's expression and, with a practiced flourish, produced a meticulously prepared disc and a slim booklet from his robes.
"Professor, I've brought you something special today."
He tried to sound enthusiastic and sincere—without crossing into outright sycophancy.
"This disc contains real-world footage of pharmaceutical manufacturing processes from the Muggle world. We've used the latest magical techniques to seal these precious memories inside. Students can use it for immersive, hands-on learning."
He paused, catching the faintest flicker of curiosity in Snape's eyes, and pressed on—
"This booklet details the magic behind making these discs. It's the result of a research project personally led by Headmaster Dumbledore. With this, you could record your own advanced potion-making methods onto a disc and play them for your students. Imagine it: you save hours of class time, and the students can review every step as many times as they need, mastering the tiniest details."
He added, almost as an afterthought, "The projectors aren't on the market yet, but as soon as they're ready, I'll make sure you get the very first set."
Snape reached out, his lips curling into a familiar, sardonic smirk.
"Hmph. As if these flashy gadgets of yours could be of any real use."
His voice was full of disdain, but his fingers lingered on the edge of the disc, tracing it unconsciously.
Despite his words, he accepted the booklet from Douglas and flipped through its pages with brisk efficiency. For a split second, surprise flickered in his eyes before he masked it with his usual icy detachment.
Then, with a swift motion, Snape closed the notebook he'd been writing in and handed it to Douglas. His gaze was tinged with arrogance as he spoke, cold as ever:
"Take it. Don't flatter yourself into thinking you know everything. Muggles' research in pharmaceuticals goes far deeper than your so-called improved medicinal cuisine."
Douglas accepted the notebook, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. He understood—Snape's sharp tongue was just a mask for genuine interest.
"Thank you, Professor. I'll study it diligently."
"Hmph. I hope you actually learn something." Snape turned away, busying himself at his cauldron. "If you're done, get out. Don't interrupt my experiments. I'll select the students myself."
After Douglas left, Snape picked up the disc and booklet again, scrutinizing them with a mixture of skepticism and anticipation. Perhaps these so-called flashy innovations might actually inspire new ideas for his teaching. He let out a quiet sigh, set them aside, and returned to his potionwork.
—
As exam month crept in like a silent specter, Hogwarts itself seemed to fall under a binding spell—a heavy, invisible tension blanketing every stone and corridor.
The castle's soaring towers pierced the brooding sky, banners limp and silent as if mourning the trials to come. The very air was thick with anxiety, so dense it felt almost physical, seeping into every classroom and common room.
For fifth-years, the looming O.W.L.s—Ordinary Wizarding Levels—were a mountain to climb. For seventh-years, the even more daunting N.E.W.T.s—Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests—stood like twin peaks on the horizon, casting long shadows over their magical futures.
The stakes could not have been higher.
Inside every student's heart, fear and hope twisted together in a tangled knot.
At night, when the castle lay silent, countless students stared up at the ceiling from their beds, minds racing wild and untamed. They couldn't help replaying Professor Holmes' dire warnings—visions of failed exams, parents' disappointed eyes, classmates' whispers, and futures slipping into darkness.
These thoughts crashed over them in icy waves, soaking pillows with cold sweat.
More than a few, in their dreams, cursed Professor Holmes as a demon.
By day, they forced themselves to push aside dread and threw themselves into frantic revision. But anxiety clung to them like a second skin.
In the library, as they frantically flipped through heavy magical tomes, doubts gnawed at their minds: Can I really remember all this? What if I freeze up and my mind goes blank during the exam?
Their quills flew over parchment, but every word felt like a battle against their own fear.
In the study rooms, the atmosphere was stifling. Some students curled up in corners, muttering complex incantations under their breath—Please, let me remember this, I can't mess up this spell...
But the more desperately they tried, the more their memories seemed to rebel. Spells slipped away, just out of reach.
Others quizzed each other in pairs, voices trembling. Whenever a partner faltered, panic rose—If they can't answer, maybe I haven't mastered it either...
Some, to their horror, realized just how much they'd forgotten. Many blamed it all on last year's Dementors—their chilling presence had, it seemed, truly left holes in everyone's memory.
Desperate to patch those gaps and prepare for exam questions on the topic, students practiced the Patronus Charm obsessively in the study rooms.
To their astonishment, under Professor Holmes's guidance, the Patronus Charm proved more effective for learning than even Baruffio's Brain Elixir or Dragon Claw Powder.
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