Hogwarts Castle. Gryffindor Head of House Office.
Richie knocked on the door, clutching the scroll of parchment.
"Come in."
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"Ah, Mr. Harland."
Sitting behind her desk, Professor McGonagall was wearing her glasses, halfway through grading a stack of assignments. Seeing Richie walk in, she immediately knew he was there for his personal exam.
"Professor McGonagall, here is my exam," Richie said, stepping up to the desk and handing over the scroll.
"Let us see the fruits of your labor, then." McGonagall offered a rare, faint smile as she took the parchment and began grading her section.
Grading was naturally much faster than actually taking the test. Since she was the one who had written these specific questions, she flew through them and finished grading in no time.
"Outstanding work, Mr. Harland," McGonagall said, setting her quill down. She opened a drawer and pulled out a single matchstick and a button.
"Your practical task is to transfigure this matchstick into a silver needle with an engraved pattern, and to turn this button into a beetle. The beetle must retain the threaded holes of the button, but it must also be fully capable of crawling."
Hearing the instructions, Richie nodded.
Under McGonagall's watchful eye, he drew his wand and aimed it at the matchstick.
"Vera Verto!"
The surface of the matchstick flashed silver. It immediately began twisting and morphing, shrinking down into a fine silver needle. But it didn't stop there. Intricate patterns etched themselves along the surface, along with a tiny line of text: HAALAND.
It was his last name.
Without breaking his flow, Richie immediately shifted his wand to the button.
Under the effects of the Transfiguration spell, the button gave a slight tremble. Then, a hard carapace pushed up from the center, followed quickly by the sprouting of tiny antennae and legs.
The button had successfully become a living beetle. Furthermore, right in the center of its back were four perfectly preserved threaded holes, proving that it was still fundamentally a button.
"Excellent."
Watching Richie's incredibly fluid execution, McGonagall nodded in approval. She picked up her quill and personally drew an "O" on his exam.
"Thank you, Professor."
Richie gave another polite bow, took his exam back, and headed for the next professor's office.
The next section of the exam covered Potions. That meant Richie's next stop was the office of the Slytherin Head of House: Professor Snape.
Hogwarts Castle. Slytherin Head of House Office.
The Slytherin Head of House office was located down in the dungeons, right next to the Potions classroom.
Carrying his test, Richie descended the stairs into the cold basement level.
Snape's office door was already wide open. The second Richie stepped into the doorway, a cold, smooth voice drifted out.
"Enter."
Richie froze for a second, but quickly stepped inside.
This was his first time in Snape's office. The layout was incredibly sparse. Aside from the massive cabinets lining the walls—which were packed full of various potions and ingredients—there was only a large preparation table covered in brewing equipment.
Richie also noticed another door tucked away in the back of the office. He assumed it led to Snape's private storage closet.
Right in the middle of the room sat eight massive baskets overflowing with completely unprocessed potion ingredients.
The moment Richie saw them, he got a very bad feeling about this.
"Mr. Harland."
Sitting behind his desk, Snape held a quill in one hand and casually extended the other, gesturing with a single finger.
The scroll of parchment immediately flew out of Richie's grip and landed on the desk.
"Perhaps the coursework I assign is simply too remedial. Perhaps that is what gave you the absurd delusion that you could successfully teach yourself my subject."
Snape unfurled the parchment and began rapidly scanning the answers. His mouth, however, didn't stop moving.
"Although..."
"...you are at least marginally better than those trolls who regularly manage to melt their cauldrons through the floor."
"However marginally that may be."
Having finished reading Richie's written answers, Snape looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"In front of you are the raw ingredients required for the next three potions on the first-year syllabus. Your task is to process them and then successfully brew one vial of each potion."
"Given your strictly adequate aptitude, I expect a minimum of a ninety-five percent perfect yield on the ingredient processing, and all three potions must be of excellent quality. That is the absolute lowest standard I will accept."
"Now, put on your gloves and begin processing."
With that, Snape carelessly tossed the exam scroll aside and went back to his own work.
Richie's mouth twitched.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening. He was being used as free manual labor.
Once he finished processing all these ingredients, Snape was definitely just going to use them for his actual classes.
But what could he do? He just had to suck it up and get to work.
Resigned to his fate, Richie pulled on a pair of dragon-hide gloves and started inspecting the massive baskets to see what exactly he was working with.
"Garden Snails... Fire Crabs... Glow-worms..."
"Daisies... Castor beans... Morning dew..."
Richie quickly identified the three potions: the Swelling Solution, the Polish Potion, and the Cough Potion.
He immediately sat down on the floor right there and started processing the ingredients.
Because he had only ever studied the theory and had zero actual hands-on experience with these specific recipes, Richie was incredibly careful, doing everything in his power to avoid making a mistake.
The minutes ticked away. He lost track of how long it took, but eventually, the mountain of raw materials was fully processed.
He took exactly one portion of each required ingredient, walked over to Snape's preparation table, took a quick breather, and started brewing.
Behind his desk, Snape noticed Richie moving to the table. He paused, but didn't say a word to stop him. Instead, he stood up and walked over to inspect the massive pile of processed ingredients Richie had left on the floor.
Compared to the grueling, repetitive work of processing raw materials, the actual brewing was a breeze.
Richie meticulously followed the exact instructions laid out in the textbook. Before long, fresh batches of Swelling Solution, Polish Potion, and Cough Potion were simmering perfectly in their cauldrons.
Not only had he achieved excellent quality on all three, but he had successfully brewed them on his very first attempt, without wasting a single spare ingredient.
Knowing he had absolutely crushed it, Richie couldn't help but let a smug smirk creep onto his face.
But he quickly remembered exactly whose office he was in. He instantly wiped the smirk away and turned to find Snape standing right next to him. He hadn't even heard the man approach.
"Well."
"A walking, breathing copy of Magical Drafts and Potions."
"I see absolutely no independent thought. Only the numb, rote memorization of an ignoramus."
Snape didn't hold back, completely tearing into Richie's performance.
Hearing this, Richie simply lowered his head and humbly accepted the criticism. Snape was actually right. He hadn't thought critically about the brewing process at all; he had just mindlessly regurgitated the textbook instructions step-by-step.
Seeing Richie's reaction, Snape paused. With a sharp flick of his dark robes, the three vials of potion on the table vanished.
In their place, a textbook suddenly materialized in Richie's arms.
"In my class, you will continue to follow my exact curriculum. If I ever catch you doing unrelated work during my lessons..."
Richie didn't hear the rest of Snape's threat.
An invisible force suddenly shoved him hard in the chest, rapidly forcing him backward out of the office.
His exam scroll flew out the door right alongside him.
SLAM! The heavy wooden door slammed shut just as the exam landed perfectly in Richie's hands.
Richie stood outside the locked door and blinked.
He looked down at the scroll. Right there on the parchment was a fresh, newly drawn "O."
He then looked down at the book in his arms. It was a copy of Magical Drafts and Potions.
Curious, Richie flipped it open. The pages were completely covered in handwritten annotations, corrections, and highly advanced brewing notes.
"Wait. Did the Potions Master just give me his own personal, annotated textbook?"
As Richie flipped through the pages, any lingering resentment he had toward Snape completely evaporated.
With that, Richie quickly left the dungeons.
It was already 3:00 PM. Even though his stomach was loudly growling in protest, Richie ignored his hunger and practically jogged out of the castle toward the greenhouses.
He was running out of time, and he still had a lot of work to do. He needed to pick up the pace.
Next up: Herbology.