pdf-ebookys Chapter 212 Exam Preparation and Exam Week
Chapter 212 Exam Preparation and Exam Week
Chapter 212 Exam Preparation and Examination Week (Bonus chapter for Yu Tuo Ji Ran's support as a top contributor!!!)
The clamor of the Quidditch Cup and the joy of Hagrid's exoneration were quickly replaced by a larger and more pressing shadow, like the receding tide—final exam week, which for most students was even more serious than the Basilisk incident, like a low-hanging dark cloud pressing heavily over Hogwarts Castle.
The library had become a battlefield. Just like last semester, the long tables, which used to have empty seats, were now packed. The air was thick with the unique smell of parchment, old pages, ink, and sweat, along with an almost frozen atmosphere of focus and anxiety. The scratching of quills across paper, the rustling of pages turning, the hushed recitation of spells or potion recipes blended into a dull background noise. Mrs. Pince, like the most vigilant sentinel, scanned every corner with her sharp eyes, and any unusual noise would draw her silent but extremely oppressive glare.
"By Merlin, how did Professor Binns manage to make the fairy rebellion sound more effective than sleeping pills? And why are fairies so meddlesome? They were studying fairies last semester, and they're still studying fairies this semester!" Wesley cried out, slamming his face heavily onto the open "History of Magic."
The heavy book creaked loudly on the floor. "I swear, last night I dreamt of demons wielding spatulas and rebelling!"
"Not a spatula, Wesley, but a blunt axe and a rusty dagger," Fabian corrected without looking up, his glasses sliding down to the tip of his nose as he rapidly marked the effects of planetary trajectories on the activity of certain potion ingredients on a complex star chart—a topic that crossed over between astronomy and potions classes. "And the focus isn't on the weapons, but on the timing, leaders, triggers, and final outcomes of the three rebellions. For example, the one in 1612 was because the goblins were stripped of their right to brew mead in Hogsmeade."
"Stop! Fabian! Please stop!" Wesley cried out, covering his ears in anguish. "I only remember that they were eventually suppressed, isn't that enough?"
"Clearly not enough, Wesley. Your main mistake last year was in theory. In the early stages of Defense Against the Dark Arts, you had tutoring from Cullen, and after Quirrell left, other professors took turns teaching us. Your grasp of the theory in that area is much better than last semester, but there's still the history of magic, astronomy,..."
"Potions Mastery," Ernesto elegantly tapped his wand on his meticulously organized notebook, which clearly marked theories, application examples, and common mistakes in different colors of ink. "Professor Binns is obsessed with trivial dates and names. For example, who secretly translated 'pig monster' as 'respected negotiator' during the 1752 goblin negotiations, causing the negotiations to break down?"
"This kind of problem—" He shook his head helplessly.
"That's why we need the 'Eagle's Nest Mutual Aid Group'," Karen's voice rang out, carrying a reassuring calm. He sat opposite the three, with not textbooks spread out in front of him, but several outlines he had compiled himself, covering the core knowledge points and common mistakes of each subject. His role was not to impart knowledge, but to help them clarify the structure, grasp the key points, and make breakthroughs efficiently.
He picked up his wand and gently tapped it in the air. Several soft spots of light floated up, each representing a different aspect of magic: history, spells, transmutation, and more.
Subjects like Potions. "Wesley, put down that hypnotic book. The core of magical history is understanding the sequence and impact of events, not rote memorization. Imagine the three rebellions as three Quidditch matches: the spark is the opening ball, the key battle is catching the Snitch, and the result is the score. Remember the 'score' and the 'key players' (leaders), then think about why they won and why they lost (the spark and the impact), and the framework will emerge. Specific dates? Just remember a general timeframe; Binns won't be so strict as to test specific months and days."
Wesley's bewildered gaze gradually focused, as if he were seeing a path through the fog: "Quidditch—a match? You mean the one in 1612, um—Gryffindor vs. Slytherin? The goblins were Slytherin? Because mead was banned, the referee just blew a bad whistle?" His analogy was quirky, but Cullen seemed to have forcibly steered his train of thought to a channel that was easier for him to remember.
Karen's lips twitched slightly, but she nodded: "—You could draw an analogy like this. Remember the 'black whistle incident' (the trigger), the 'Slytherin team' (the goblin leaders; if you can't remember the name, just remember their characteristics), 'Gryffindor won't' (they were suppressed), and why this 'black whistle' had such a big impact (it stripped the goblins of important rights and deepened the divide)."
He then turned to Fabian and Ernesto, saying, "You two don't need to worry, especially Fabian. The most important thing for you is to stay calm."
The Eagle's Nest was brightly lit. Outside the window lay the silent night of Hogwarts, while inside, four boys sat huddled together. Parchment piled high, inkwells emptied and refilled. The scent of stimulants filled the air. Cullen's voice, though not loud, was clear and powerful, like a precise scalpel, dissecting the fog of knowledge for her roommates, striking at the heart of the matter. Wesley, though still occasionally frustrated, was astonished to find that his jumbled thoughts were slowly connecting in his mind after Cullen repeatedly pulled him back from his escapist train of thought! While still not as clear-headed as Ernesto and Fabian, it was a world of difference compared to the helplessness he felt facing theory exams last semester.
During breaks from studying, Karen's fingers would unconsciously move across the smooth surface of the workbench, his fingertips tracing invisible paths. These weren't random scribbles, but rather a simplified structure of the tracker's core rune—a magical circuit used to reliably capture those faint signals of soul resonance. Nico's theoretical guidance and Castor's emphasis on "fundamentals" echoed in his mind. Recalling the points about charms he had just explained to Wesley, a sudden flash of inspiration struck him.
"Perhaps I could borrow the idea of 'magic anchoring'?" he muttered to himself, pulling out a new piece of parchment and quickly sketching the core of the previously designed sensing rune. Next to it, he outlined the structure of a "secondary resonant anchoring ring," a method Professor Flitwick had mentioned in the Charms Club for stabilizing the magical nodes of large protective shields. The two seemed completely unrelated, but they appeared to share a common goal: "stabilizing subtle fluctuations."
He attempted to incorporate the "resonance" concept of the anchoring ring into the edge structure of the sensing runes, replacing the original relatively simple buffer pattern. The new composite rune structure looks more complex, but theoretically, it can better filter out environmental noise through a preset resonant frequency, amplifying only signals with a frequency close to the specific fluctuation frequency of the soul fragment, thereby improving the stability of sensing.
Instead of immediately modifying the physical object, he repeatedly deduced the design on the blueprints, using the "Eye of Truth" to simulate the flow of magic through the new structure in his mind. After confirming that the theory was feasible and would not conflict with the original core, he took a break from reviewing and took out the rudimentary compass prototype. With the finest engraving knife, he carefully etched the improved "resonance anchoring" micro-rune array onto its edges.
A few days later, when Karen brought the Soul Prism close to the improved compass again, the pointer's tremor, though still pitifully small, seemed to last for a fraction of a second longer. And after the prism was removed, the tremor stopped abruptly, with a subtle decay. The range—expanded slightly, but remained confined to a paltry ten meters, better than nothing. A glimmer of satisfaction flashed in Karen's eyes. This small improvement proved the correctness of her approach—utilizing the stability principles of other fields to optimize the alchemical device. This was the power of cross-disciplinary knowledge, the power of the "foundation" and "knowledge reserve" that Castor emphasized.
Exam week flew by in a flurry of activity. In the Transfiguration exam, Cullen effortlessly transformed a hedgehog into an exquisite pincushion inlaid with sapphires, its surface even displaying bas-reliefs of Ravenclaw eagles, earning Professor McGonagall's undisguised admiration. In the Charms practice exam, Professor Flitwick deliberately added a challenge for Cullen, requiring him to silently cast a Barrier Charm and precisely control its range and duration. Cullen accomplished it flawlessly, and Flitwick applauded his performance. In the Potions underground classroom, Cullen's fluid handling of materials and precise control of heat even caused Snape, unusually, to refrain from spitting venom, merely letting out a cold snort and marking a "0" on the scoreboard.
When the final bell rang to signal the end of the History of Magic exam, a huge cheer erupted in the castle, a mixture of relief and uncertainty. A few days later, the results were announced. The bulletin board in the Ravenclaw common room was packed with people.
As expected, Karen, Wesley, and their two classmates swept the top three spots in the second year, and Wesley also improved a lot. Even in their weakest subject, theory, they got several good grades, and even half of them got E's.
Wesley himself looked at the bulletin board, his face flushed red, scratching his reddish-brown hair and grinning like a fool: "Hey! Hey! See that? Pass! All above passing! Defense against the Dark Arts is still excellent!" He excitedly punched Fabian, then tried to hug Ernesto, but the latter nimbly dodged.
Karen stood a little distance away, watching her roommates' excited expressions, especially Wesley's pure joy, and a smile crept onto her lips. Academics were the foundation, friends were the support. The successful completion of final exams meant he had more time and energy to devote to that silent pursuit. He touched the modified, still rudimentary, but pointing "resonance compass" in his pocket. The road ahead was long, but the foundation was solid, and he had already prepared a research subject for the summer.