The "Baseline Assessment" was feared almost as much as midterms or finals.
The reason was simple.
It always happened right after a "relaxing" holiday.
After an entire summer of doing absolutely nothing, one could easily imagine the state of a student's knowledge.
Anxiety filled the classroom.
Morin didn't even need to look at the papers to know how this would end.
"You have thirty minutes," he said, waving a hand. "I selected only enough questions for thirty minutes. Begin."
"And no cheating. Cheating includes looking at notes or communicating in any way. If caught, you lose ten points."
He paused.
"However, every cloud has a silver lining. If you don't get caught and score an 'Exceeds Expectations' or better, I'll give you ten Gold Galleons."
Morin placed two hundred Gold Galleons on the desk.
He added a faint light effect.
The gold shimmered.
Golden light filled the room.
Every pair of eyes locked onto the pile.
Ten Galleons was a lot of money.
And he had just put down two hundred.
Rich. Extravagant. Handsome. Filthy rich.
Morin's approval rating skyrocketed.
"When the sand runs out, the test is over."
He produced an hourglass and flipped it.
One of the best things about Hogwarts was that no one asked where things came from. Even wandless magic was accepted with minimal fuss.
The room tightened instantly.
Quills scratched furiously.
For five minutes.
Then the scratching slowed.
Faces flushed.
Hands froze.
Students began to realize something was very wrong.
Their thoughts followed a predictable pattern.
At first:
I passed my O.W.L.s with an 'O' or an 'E.' I'm capable. I didn't review much, but I must know something. Ten Galleons are basically mine.
Then:
Did we even learn this spell? Never mind, skip it. Next question. I recognize these letters... but why don't they make sense together? And we definitely didn't cover this scenario.
Finally:
What is this asking? I don't even understand the question. Is this really an old exam question?
When the sand ran out, the room was silent.
Students stared at the hourglass.
Then at Morin.
Who was still smiling.
A new label was quietly added.
Cunning.
They finally understood something important.
Just because Morin had a lot of gold didn't mean they were getting any of it.
They'd been blinded by the shine and forgotten how hard it would be to earn.
"Judging by your expressions, I won't be handing out many Galleons today," Morin said mildly. "That's fine. I have plenty."
"So from now on, anyone who gets an 'O' on any test will receive ten Galleons. Until they're all gone."
He waved his hand.
Mostly blank papers flew to his desk and stacked themselves neatly.
A quill began grading on its own.
The students straightened.
This wasn't a one-time reward.
It was a bounty.
After the assessment, they had a much clearer understanding of their own level. An 'O' right now was impossible.
But later?
They had a full year.
And although no one wanted to think about it, Defense Against the Dark Arts professors rarely lasted. Five years in a row wasn't an accident.
So naturally, they assumed Morin's rewards only existed this year.
"While I'm grading," Morin said, "let me ask you something."
"What is Dark Magic?"
"The Unforgivable Curses!" several students shouted.
Morin pointed at one. "Included, but incomplete."
"Evil magic!" another tried.
"How do you define 'evil'?" Morin asked.
Silence.
After a few more failed attempts, he raised a hand.
"Based on your answers, we need to redefine Dark Magic. The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection defines it as magic intended primarily to harm others."
He looked around the room.
"But Dark Magic is not necessarily synonymous with evil."
The room erupted.
"Professor, how can Dark Magic not be evil?" one student demanded.
"Let's use a practical example," Morin said.
"A hostage situation. A man named John Doe takes a young witch hostage and demands ten million Galleons. He's powerful. Uses wandless magic. Defensive spells. Potions. Stunning him won't work immediately."
"An Auror finds a hidden passage and is directly above him."
Morin paused.
"John Doe did not protect his head."
"To resolve the situation instantly and ensure the hostage survives-what spell should be used?"
"...An Unforgivable Curse," the student whispered.
"Yes. The Killing Curse."
Morin didn't blink.
"Now tell me. In this situation, was Dark Magic evil?"
Silence returned.
No one had ever framed it that way.
"What if an Unforgivable Curse saved a life?"
"For your first lesson," Morin continued, "understand this: prejudice against Dark Magic is ignorance."
"Someone can use 'Stupefy' to harm others."
"And someone can use 'Avada Kedavra' to save them."
He wrote one word on the board and underlined it.
Intent.
"Power itself is neither right nor wrong."
"So. What is the goal of this course?"
"Defense Against Dark Magic!" a student shouted.
"Included, but inaccurate."
Morin pointed elsewhere.
"Defending against anything that can harm us."
A girl stood up.
She was pretty. By Morin's standards, one of the most attractive in her year. Graduate before Hermione grows up, he thought. Yesterday, he'd noticed this Hermione looked suspiciously like the Emma Watson version.
The teeth were the main issue.
Once fixed, she'd be terrifying.
"Excellent," Morin said. "Your name?"
"Gwen. Ravenclaw."
"Five points to Ravenclaw."
"That answer is correct. I've always felt this course name was too narrow. 'Wizarding Self-Defense' would be more accurate."
"Once you leave this school, rules thin out. You'll meet wizards who will do anything."
"Some will be better than you imagine."
"And some will be worse."
"Worse than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" Gwen asked.
"Heh... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
Morin smiled faintly.
"He was powerful. But far from the worst. Just more obvious."
"I hope you never meet such people. But life isn't predictable."
"No one stays lucky forever."
He wrote four words on the board.
Survival.
"Survival has three steps," Morin said.
"First: Identification. Know what people, objects, or spells are dangerous."
"Second: Resistance. Block or resolve attacks. If poisoned or cursed, remove the effects."
"Third: Escape. Get out of danger quickly."
"Questions?"
"If we block the attack," a broad-shouldered student asked, "why not fight back?"
"Gryffindor?" Morin asked, receiving a nod. "As expected."
"Why didn't I say 'fight back'?" He turned. "Gwen."
"Because you're teaching us how to defend ourselves," she answered.
"Correct," Morin said. "No points. Too easy. And if I keep rewarding you, Professor McGonagall will come after me."
The class laughed.
"All right. Sit down."
"Self-defense includes fighting back. But not yet. Fighting back requires confidence in your own safety-or no other option."
"You're students."
"Even if you ace your N.E.W.T.s and become Auror interns, you're still fledglings."
"Experience can't be taught in a classroom."
"Many people die learning that lesson."
Morin looked around the room.
"My goal is simple. Keep you alive."
"Of course," he added lightly, "passing your N.E.W.T.s comes first."
He waved a hand.
"Now. Let's see your results."
Papers floated back to their owners.
"Anyone with an 'E' or better, raise your hand."
One hand went up.
"Excellent, Ms. Gwen."
Morin nodded.
"Ten points to Ravenclaw."
"And ten Galleons to you."
The gold gleamed.
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