Hardy casually tossed the golden Time-Turner directly into Maurise's hands.
"Go on, give it a try," Hardy encouraged, stepping up beside Maurise and placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. "For your inaugural journey through time, we will travel together. I will instruct you on the finer details as we go."
Maurise examined the delicate artifact resting in his palm. The fine golden chain was inexplicably sticky, bearing a faint, unidentified smear of grime.
"What exactly is this?" he asked, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he casually wiped the sticky residue directly onto Hardy's sleeve.
Hardy glanced down at his cuff, completely unfazed. "Ah, it is likely just melted chocolate. One of my colleagues recently installed an automated, magically self-sustaining chocolate dispenser in our office. Oh, it is a truly magnificent piece of engineering! You would never guess the underlying magical principles..."
Seeing the man revving up for another endless, pointless tangent, Maurise immediately cut him off. "Am I permitted to use the Time-Turner now?"
"Of course, of course," Hardy nodded brightly. "Give the hourglass a single, full rotation. Let us turn the clock back exactly one hour."
Following the instructions, Maurise gripped the tiny golden hourglass and gave it a precise spin.
One full rotation.
Ten seconds ticked by.
Absolutely nothing happened.
Maurise shot Hardy a deeply confused look.
Hardy's jovial expression faltered slightly, shifting into one of mild concern. He quickly snatched the artifact from Maurise's hand, inspecting it meticulously.
"How exceedingly peculiar... That shouldn't be possible. The artifact is functioning perfectly. Try it again."
He handed the Time-Turner back.
Maurise, feeling slightly skeptical, took it and gave the hourglass another spin.
Once again, absolutely zero reaction.
Hardy hummed thoughtfully. "Try spinning it a few more times."
Maurise, ever the obedient student, followed the instruction.
Second rotation.
Third rotation.
Fourth rotation.
Fifth rotation...
POP!
A muffled, highly pathetic snapping sound echoed in the quiet classroom, accompanied by a tiny, tragic puff of grey smoke erupting directly from the center of the artifact.
It exploded.
The immediate area was suddenly filled with the unmistakable, pungent stench of burnt chocolate.
Both Maurise and Hardy stood completely frozen, utterly bewildered by the sudden, highly undramatic explosion.
They stared at each other in total silence for several long seconds.
Finally, Hardy found his voice.
"Ah, well," he let out a dry, awkward chuckle. "I suppose the chocolate wasn't the issue after all."
Maurise narrowed his eyes. "Highly debatable."
It certainly wasn't his fault, right? He had followed the instructions to the letter. He absolutely refused to take the blame for destroying a priceless Ministry artifact.
Hardy carefully retrieved the smoking wreckage from Maurise's hand. The delicate glass of the hourglass had completely shattered, still emitting faint wisps of grey smoke, and the fine golden chain had snapped clean in half.
The cheerful smile vanished from Hardy's face, replaced by a heavy, world-weary sigh. "Merlin's beard... it is completely fried. Repairing this intricate little mechanism is going to be an absolute nightmare."
Maurise crossed his arms defensively. "It appears to be of remarkably poor construction, Mr. Hardy."
Hardy ignored the comment, continuing to thoroughly examine the ruined artifact. Finally, he slowly raised his head, his gaze fixing intently on Maurise's face.
"I believe I have deduced the root cause of the catastrophic failure. The artifact was destroyed entirely because of you, Mr. Black. It appears you are inherently, fundamentally incompatible with time travel."
Maurise pointed a finger at his own chest. "Me? Inherently incompatible?"
He strongly suspected the man was just looking for a convenient scapegoat.
Hardy's expression grew incredibly solemn. "I am fully aware that this sounds like a pathetic attempt to shift the blame, but please allow me to explain. Though, explaining the intricacies of time is notoriously difficult."
"I will start with the fundamental basics. Time itself is a profoundly unique, highly sentient existence. Furthermore, Chronomancy—Time Magic—is undeniably the single most delicate, volatile, and highly sensitive branch within the entire magical spectrum."
"I cannot possibly explain the exact operational mechanics of a Time-Turner to you, but I can state this with absolute certainty, Mr. Black: you are being actively and aggressively rejected by Time itself."
"Time simply refuses to allow you to return to the past."
His tone was unprecedentedly serious.
Maurise didn't fully comprehend the metaphysical implications, but he felt an instinctual certainty that Hardy was telling the truth.
"So, what is our next course of action?" Maurise asked pragmatically.
"There is absolutely nothing we can do," Hardy sighed heavily once again. "The short of it is that you are physically incapable of utilizing a Time-Turner, Mr. Black. But please, do not worry yourself. You will not be held financially responsible for the destruction of this artifact. I will simply have to draft an incredibly lengthy, highly detailed incident report for the Ministry."
Maurise felt a pang of genuine disappointment.
He had truly wanted to experience the sensation of time travel firsthand. It seemed that particular avenue of research was permanently closed to him.
However, his intense academic curiosity regarding the shattered artifact itself remained undiminished.
As if reading his mind, Hardy seized the opportunity to dangle the bait once more. "If you possess a burning desire to study the inner workings of Time-Turners, you should strongly consider joining the Department of Mysteries! I still have the preliminary contract right here."
"No," Maurise shook his head firmly.
He certainly wasn't going to sell his soul to a government bureaucracy just to tinker with a broken hourglass.
"Are you absolutely certain? Won't you reconsider?" Hardy pressed, refusing to give up.
Maurise rejected the offer once more, adding a casual question. "I am genuinely curious. Why exactly are you so aggressively persistent about recruiting me?"
"Because of the massive recruitment bonus... Ah, I mean, because I find you to be a highly agreeable, exceptionally bright young man!"
---
Maurise was officially denied access to a Time-Turner, and the smoking remains of the artifact were promptly confiscated by the Ministry.
When he reported the bizarre incident to Professor McGonagall, she was utterly astounded.
"Are you telling me the Time-Turner simply refused to function for you?"
"That is correct, Professor."
Maurise seamlessly pivoted to his actual priority. "So, how exactly are we going to handle my third-year elective schedule?"
Professor McGonagall pondered the dilemma for a few moments. "This is an entirely unprecedented situation. Since a Time-Turner is no longer a viable option, the most direct and logical solution is to heavily modify your core timetable."
"I completely agree," Maurise replied smoothly, his trap perfectly set. "Therefore, I would like you to officially exempt me from attending all of my standard core classes, allowing me to focus entirely on my electives."
"..."
Professor McGonagall froze.
She had genuinely assumed Maurise was merely joking when he proposed that exact solution a few days prior.
"The Hogwarts curriculum is governed by a strict set of highly regulated guidelines," she stated sternly. "We cannot simply allow students to arbitrarily discard core subjects based on personal whim."
"Are there truly no exceptions to the rule?" Maurise pressed gently. "Has no student in the history of this school ever been granted such an exemption?"
Professor McGonagall rubbed her temples tiredly. "If such an exemption ever occurred, it was a very, very long time ago."
"Then allow me to set a modern precedent, Professor," Maurise said, his tone perfectly sincere and reasonable. "I genuinely require significantly more independent study time to further my magical education."
In all honesty, attending the standard third-year lectures was a colossal waste of his time. He was vastly better off reclaiming those hours for his own private research. He had already skipped a massive portion of his classes the previous year, resulting in a staggering loss of House points for Ravenclaw. As it turned out, losing those points had absolutely zero negative impact on his actual life or academic standing.
Listening to Maurise's calm, logical argument, Professor McGonagall fell into deep thought.
As an educator, she fully comprehended her exceptional student's perspective. Forcing a prodigy to sit through rudimentary lessons was undeniably stifling.
"Very well," she finally sighed, conceding defeat. "Since you are so determined, I will not stand in your way. However, this drastic modification must be officially approved by the Headmaster, as well as every single one of your core professors. Furthermore, you must maintain your position as the absolute top student in your year during every single examination period."
"That will be incredibly simple," Maurise stated with absolute, unwavering confidence.
---
Ultimately, after a series of brief, highly successful negotiations, Maurise officially secured his highly coveted "Class Exemption" privilege.
The entire approval process was vastly easier than he had anticipated. Not a single core professor offered any genuine resistance to the proposal.
It made perfect logical sense.
Every professor at Hogwarts was acutely aware that Maurise's learning capabilities were utterly terrifying, bordering on the absurd. He had already mastered their curriculums years in advance.
True genius was always afforded a certain degree of special leniency. Hogwarts was not, after all, an entirely rigid, uncompromising institution.