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The Defense Against the Dark Arts examination, overseen by Albus Dumbledore, the esteemed headmaster of Hogwarts, was rather unorthodox. What made it particularly intriguing was that no other young wizard had been given anything remotely like a psychological questionnaire.
This became clear from the hushed conversations echoing through the corridors as students emerged from the classroom, each of them had undergone the more traditional trials: practical demonstrations of spellwork and defensive charms against simulated dark threats.
It was consistent across all year groups.
There had been many candidates.
Yet only Ian received a psychological questionnaire as his exam. He suspected that Dumbledore, ever the observant one, had noticed how frequently he dabbled in darker branches of magic, and feared his mind might be succumbing to the creeping influence.
This peculiar exam, then, must be the headmaster's way of probing his mental and emotional resilience.
Ian wasn't surprised that Dumbledore knew the extent of his magical practice, after all, the man had demonstrated an uncanny foresight more than once.
Ian assumed it had something to do with the enchanted observatory tools the headmaster had access to, or perhaps even a charm that allowed him to passively track particularly powerful magical fluctuations.
In any case, the old wizard's concern wasn't unfounded. Had it been anyone else experimenting with such magic so regularly, they'd have likely gone mad, or at the very least, ended up disfigured and noseless, within months.
But Ian was different.
"Dark magic doesn't seem to affect me in the same way," Ian explained. He didn't understand why, but he had never experienced any backlash or negative side effects.
Aurora, never one to mince words, once quipped that Ian was probably already so shrouded in darkness there was nowhere deeper for him to fall. Ian vehemently disagreed with her cynical view.
In his mind, he was the very image of a virtuous, noble-hearted wizard, beautiful in soul, devoted to good and it was precisely his pure nature that protected him from being tainted.
As he scribbled through the pages of the psychological questionnaire, Ian candidly shared his thoughts with Dumbledore, who, unlike Aurora, seemed to genuinely consider his reasoning with due respect.
"That's certainly a possibility," Dumbledore replied with a serene smile that seemed meant to soothe Ian's earnest disposition. What the old man was truly thinking, however, was impossible to determine, his expressions were an enigma even to the brightest of Hogwarts students.
"This questionnaire however, will help us find the answers we seek," Dumbledore continued, as if wholly invested in the outcome of Ian's responses. But even one as wise as him probably hadn't anticipated that, in Ian's case, the entire exam would be utterly ineffective.
With a solid Level 6 in [Psychological Insight], a mastery obtained through extensive mental training in the Twilight Realm, where Ian had conversed with the echoes of legendary wizards like Lady Morgan, he could read the intent behind every question and tailor his responses to perfection, painting the picture of an impeccably "good and noble" young wizard.
He'd seen countless such evaluations before.
Long before his first year at Hogwarts, he'd practised with similar tests to strengthen his own mind and improve his magical defenses. Though this version bore the distinct signature of wizarding logic, the core structure remained familiar, after all, whether wizard or Muggle, a mind is a mind, and their fears, dreams, and failings are not so dissimilar.
"All done!"
Ian laid down his quill with a flourish and handed the completed questionnaire back to Dumbledore. He suspected the old headmaster had overlooked one very important detail, he hadn't accounted for Ian being what he called a "hexagonal warrior," proficient in every direction.
A simple mental evaluation?
No way was Ian going to let that go to waste, not when he had the chance to prove to Dumbledore that he was nothing short of a once-in-a-century prodigy, perhaps even a saint among students.
"Very good." Dumbledore gave a small nod. He didn't glance at the paper, instead he gestured for Ian to leave the otherwise quiet exam chamber.
"You're not going to give me my score right now?" Ian asked, not out of concern for being discovered "cheating," but simply because he was an impatient sort, eager to know how he'd done.
"Actually, this test won't affect your final grade. Your performance in the practical examination already provided the answer we were seeking, some time ago, in fact."
Dumbledore's smile didn't falter, and it was as calm as the surface of the Black Lake.
"Eh?" Ian blinked, briefly caught off guard. "You mean the thing with Professor Quirrell?"
Thinking back, the only significant Defense Against the Dark Arts event he could recall from half a term ago was that intense duel with Tom Riddle, an encounter Dumbledore had personally witnessed from beginning to end.
"Indeed." Albus Dumbledore confirmed with a gentle tone.
"Although very few know the truth, both Professor Nicolas and I are well aware that you bested the most dangerous dark wizard of this age. And we agree, no one else could have handled that confrontation with greater composure or skill. There's no test that could more clearly demonstrate your mastery of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Naturally, your final grade reflects the excellence you displayed."
Dumbledore's voice was measured and sincere. Vanquishing You-Know-Who alone, such a feat placed Ian firmly at the top of the discipline. Barring a miraculous, instant vanishing spell that could obliterate Voldemort outright, there was likely no better outcome imaginable.
"Then why tell me this psychological test was my final exam?" Ian frowned, recalling his first few moments in the room, when Dumbledore had clearly stated the test's purpose.
He remembered the old man's exact words.
"Ha ha ha ha… Seems you've fallen for my little joke." Dumbledore chuckled warmly, a glimmer of mischief lighting up his eyes, leaving Ian with the uncomfortable feeling of having walked straight into one of the headmaster's infamous games, but the content of the game was unknown to him.
"So… that was a prank?" Ian narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He had the nagging feeling things weren't quite so simple.
"No, no, no. Considering how the magic you've been studying this term has grown increasingly perilous, I sincerely believe it's necessary to check, from time to time, whether you've come under the influence of dark forces. This is part of my duty as Headmaster, wouldn't you agree?" Dumbledore gave Ian a mischievous wink, an expression that left Ian torn between amusement and exasperation.
"Alright then." Ian let out a long sigh, rose to his feet, and gave a courteous bow before stepping out of the near-empty examination chamber. Outside, numerous eyes were trained on him, eager to glean some hint from his expression.
These young witches and wizards were all hoping to deduce the difficulty of the test based on Ian's reaction.
"Oi, professor-in-training! I heard the exam was to battle a full-grown Welsh Green! Is that true?"
"If it really was a Welsh Green, I'm finished! I've not even managed to master a proper distraction charm. Tried Avis this morning and ended up summoning a flock of featherless, squawking blobs!"
"Did none of you notice? The Headmaster himself, Albus Ruddy Dumbledore, was inside! Obviously the test is… resisting the alluring charm of a male Veela!"
…
(To Be Continued…)
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