The professors' expressions said everything.
The results were disastrous.
Most students had performed so poorly that several professors began questioning whether they had somehow skipped teaching last year entirely. How else could so many miss even the most basic revision points?
Even the ever gentle Professor Flitwick carried a sharper edge in class.
"I find Mr. Riddle's suggestion from last week rather compelling," he said, hands folded neatly. "Certain performances may require communication between professor and parent to achieve meaningful improvement."
A visible shiver ran through the classroom.
Had it not been promised that these results would not be sent home? Professor, surely you would not go back on your word?
Fortunately, Flitwick allowed the tension to build only briefly.
"Since this was merely the first placement test, I shall assume some of you underperformed due to… holiday residue. I will grant you one more opportunity. If next month's examination does not meet expectations, I will submit a list of names to Professor McGonagall for further action."
A collective intake of breath echoed through the room.
If Professor McGonagall contacted their parents, many would not need to wait until the holidays. Their families might storm Hogwarts by the weekend.
Instantly, posture straightened. Wands were gripped more firmly.
Flitwick allowed himself the faintest smile before smoothing it away.
"Now then. Close your books. Today we learn a new charm. The Returning Charm. It is practical in daily life and often paired with the Repairing Charm."
Standing on his tiptoes, he peered across the classroom.
"Who can tell me the difference between the Returning Charm and the Cleaning Charm?"
Several hands shot up.
"Mr. Malfoy."
Flitwick sounded mildly surprised. Draco rarely volunteered.
Malfoy rose smoothly, chin slightly elevated.
"These are household charms most commonly used by house elves. I have observed them while they clean and arrange rooms."
A few students rolled their eyes.
"The Cleaning Charm removes dirt and debris. The Returning Charm restores objects to their original positions."
Flitwick's mouth twitched.
The goal had not been academic brilliance. It had been subtle bragging.
Still, the answer was correct.
"Very good. One point to Slytherin."
Malfoy sat, satisfied.
"As Mr. Malfoy noted, when adults cast a single 'Scourgify,' you may see both dust vanish and objects reappear neatly arranged. That is because two charms are being combined. You are not yet ready for such complexity."
He distributed small name plaques.
"Write your names. Exchange plaques with a partner. If you can return your plaque to your own hand, you succeed."
Under the weight of earlier warnings, students practiced diligently. The murmur of incantations continued until the final minute.
Then came the assignment.
One foot of written analysis. One hundred documented casting attempts. Successes required reflection. Failures demanded diagnosis. Due Friday.
Groans followed them into the corridor.
And it was not just Flitwick.
Professor Sprout now corrected mistakes immediately rather than quietly afterward.
Professor McGonagall doubled assignments and required rewrites for substandard work.
Professor Snape reportedly reduced three students to tears in a single lesson, boys and girls alike.
Within two days, the school atmosphere shifted.
Gone were conversations about singing idols and Quidditch matches.
In their place:
"Have you finished your homework?"
"Can you show me the wand movement again?"
McGonagall observed the transformation with deep satisfaction.
Hogwarts had once emphasized freedom.
Now, she raised the standard.
Not for competitions.
But because these children were the future of Britain's magical world.
Coasting was permissible.
Falling below standard was not.
...
By Wednesday, third years enjoyed a brief reprieve.
Electives dominated the day.
Under bright morning sunlight, Tom walked leisurely toward Hagrid's hut, Daphne and Hermione beside him.
Daphne had synchronized her electives entirely with Tom's schedule. She did not care what the subject was, so long as she attended with him. As they walked, she chattered happily about anonymous homework prices skyrocketing. She sounded like a skylark.
Hermione watched her with faint envy.
How did someone live so free of worry?
They arrived early.
Soon other students followed.
Hagrid emerged from the Forbidden Forest.
Tom's eyelid twitched.
Because Hagrid was not alone.
In his massive hand, he held the reins of a Hippogriff.
Tom stared.
Why was it that every time it was their year to attend class, Hagrid suddenly lost all sense of proportion?