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As the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams proceeded simultaneously, Professor Henry Anthony found it genuinely impressive that the other professors could carry on teaching their normal classes for the lower years as if nothing was happening.
He was especially in awe of Professor McGonagall. She taught a third-year Transfiguration class, dealt with Fred and George after Filch caught them, then heard that Umbridge had given Colin Creevey detention. After that, she sternly lectured and then comforted two or three students who were nearly breaking down from exam stress, only to rush to the Hospital Wing next. There, she learned that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had gotten into another fight because Draco Malfoy had made some vicious joke about house-elves, Muggle-borns, and being an orphan. Madam Pomfrey had huffily informed Professor McGonagall that, thanks to the first professor on the scene being the famous Gilderoy Lockhart, everything had been resolved with the utmost smoothness.
By the time Anthony went to supervise the Defense Against the Dark Arts written exam, he could hardly believe the exam week was finally drawing to a close.
The examiner sharing duty with him was Professor Tofty, whom Flitwick had mentioned. The elderly wizard appeared in the Great Hall almost silently, dropped a box of exam papers onto a front table, surveyed the empty hall, and nodded to Anthony, who was standing before the staff table, indicating he should distribute the papers to each individual desk.
Anthony wove through the aisles, feeling Professor Tofty's gaze resting faintly on his back. Once all papers were distributed, Tofty gave a flick of his wand. Sheets of parchment whooshed out of the box, landing beside each exam paper. They then slowly rolled themselves up.
"Let them in," Professor Tofty said, settling into a seat at the staff table. His voice was raspier, more indistinct than Anthony had imagined, each word trailing off with the tremor of old age.
"Of course, Professor Tofty," Anthony said, opening the Great Hall's large doors.
The fifth-year Hufflepuffs were called in first, followed by Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins.
"Ensure you have not brought any object into the exam hall which might contravene Wizarding Examinations Authority regulations," Anthony said as they shuffled into their seats. "The written examination lasts from nine-thirty to eleven-thirty, with the practical at two-thirty this afternoon. Please write your answers on the parchment, not on the exam paper itself…"
Soon, everyone quieted down. Professor Tofty flipped over a large hourglass placed on the staff table—several students jumped, apparently only noticing him now—and the exam began.
Anthony stood by the staff table for a moment, unsure whether he should sit beside Professor Tofty and gaze down at the students as he was, or patrol the aisles as he usually did while supervising. In the end, he walked quietly from one end of the hall to the other, peering curiously over students' fuzzy heads at this year's questions.
Question One read: 1) List three environments where Boggarts are commonly found; 2) Describe five characteristics of a Boggart; 3) Write the incantation used to repel a Boggart.
Anthony paused behind a student who took Muggle Studies. The boy wrote on his parchment: "Boggarts are commonly found in very dark places." The student pondered for a moment, then added: "Such as cupboards, including kitchen cupboards, wardrobes, and bookcases."
He paused, then meticulously prefixed "kitchen cupboards, wardrobes, and bookcases" with the numbers "one, two, three."
Anthony moved on.
Ian Williams answered: "Places with moss, places with Doxies, and places with those little black-and-white striped pixies." He drew a very rough sketch beside "black-and-white striped pixies." Anthony studied it for a while but still couldn't be sure if the pixie was supposed to have five heads.
While Ian was drawing, the student next to him—someone Anthony didn't recognize—had long since finished that question and was tackling "How to Counter the Jelly-Legs Jinx." Anthony lingered briefly, admiring the neat, tiny script flowing swiftly from the nib of the quill.
Reaching the middle of the hall, he found Anne Scott was answering even faster. While her classmates were racking their brains to invent a diet for a Hinkypunk, she was already listing "Nine Dark creatures native to Britain and how to repel them." Anthony stood behind her for a bit—he specifically checked her spelling of "Riddikulus," confirming it matched his memory. The answers from others had nearly made him doubt himself. Only when Anne glanced back at him with annoyance did he continue walking.
The hall was filled with the soft scratching of quills on parchment. Light streamed in from the tall windows, dividing the staff table into warm, light brown and shadowy, deep brown sections. A student sitting in a sunbeam scratched irritably at a sun-reddened neck, pulling their robes up to block the bright light.
"One hour remaining," Professor Tofty announced.
A flurry of paper-rustling followed. Everyone checked how many questions they had left. After that, the scratching of quills became noticeably more frantic.
Anthony returned to the staff table, found a chair at the edge, and sat down. Professor Tofty gave him an appraising look from over his half-moon spectacles before turning away. Anthony had a strange feeling: the old wizard was still sizing him up.
But that was impossible, because now it was Tofty's turn to descend from the dais and pace between the rows. Anthony watched him, hands clasped behind his back, studying a student's ink bottle. The student stiffened nervously but found a clever gap between Professor Tofty's nose and the bottle's rim, quickly dipping his quill inside.
Professor Tofty gave an encouraging nod, turned, and walked away.
The two-hour exam ended quickly. With a precise Summoning Charm, Professor Tofty collected all the parchment scrolls. Without further pleasantries to Anthony, he left the school.
Though reluctant to admit it, Anthony had to say he felt a distinct wave of relief.
A few students who knew him fairly well lingered in the hall, wanting to know how they'd done. They'd all seen him wandering around, studying their answers. It took Anthony some effort to shoo them away.
Finally, the Great Hall was empty again.
"Nearly lunchtime," Anthony said to the tables, as Professor Sprout had instructed.
Pop. A dozen house-elves materialized in the aisles. They beamed at him, bowed joyfully, and immediately set to work with bustling energy.
Tables and chairs wobbled into the air, transforming abruptly into thousands of candles. Ink stains and footprints vanished as if swept away by a fierce wind. The enchanted ceiling showing the outside weather reappeared. The four House tables thumped into their usual positions, followed immediately by benches crashing down from above beside them, righting themselves with magical speed under the elves' direction. As the elves raised their arms, countless dishes appeared on the tables.
"Watch out, Professor Anthony!" a house-elf warned.
Anthony stood still. A stream of silver knives and forks swam around him like schooling fish, clinking and clattering onto the tables beside plates, gleaming in the sunlight.
"Marvelous," he murmured.
But the elves weren't finished. They adjusted the ceiling's magic so the simulated sunlight provided only a pleasant warmth on the furniture, not an uncomfortable heat. Meanwhile, they placed a bowl of cheese salad as a summer appetizer every few seats while swiftly wiping down all the benches with damp cloths, making them gleam beautifully in the light.
Just then, someone knocked on the Great Hall door.
"Not ready yet!" Anthony called toward the door. The house-elves accelerated their movements. Napkins flew through the air in a dizzying display.
The knocking grew faster, louder, more insistent. Concerned, Anthony walked to the door and released the lock. The house-elves completed their arrangements with astonishing speed, bowed to him once more, and vanished in a series of pops.
BANG! The door was shoved open.
Anthony flinched back half a step. A wand was pointed directly at his nose.
"What—" he began, then finally registered the three people outside. The wand's owner was a terrifying-looking wizard with grizzled hair, a face scarred and twisted, his nose seemingly gouged away. But the worst was his eyes: one small, dark, and fixed sternly on Anthony; the other, a bright, electric blue, was enormous, spinning madly in its socket, scanning the surroundings.
"Good afternoon, Professor Henry Anthony," the wizard growled. "Looks like lunch will have to wait."
Anthony looked past him and recognized Scrimgeour. Scrimgeour's face was stony. He met Anthony's gaze and coughed twice, awkwardly. Anthony shifted his gaze to the third man. He looked familiar too, but Anthony couldn't place him immediately.
"What's going on?" Anthony asked, looking at Scrimgeour.
At the same moment, the man Anthony couldn't name said, "Alright, Alastor, put the wand down for a moment. We all know that's not helping."
The wizard holding Anthony at wand-point turned his head irritably toward his companion. His bright blue eye remained fixed on Anthony.
"Come with us, Professor Anthony," Scrimgeour said stiffly. "We'll find an empty classroom. You are accused of illegally possessing an unregistered Dark object—and of theft."
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