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Even Ian, thick-skinned and usually impervious to praise, felt his ears go a bit red.
"For high-stakes exams, this chocolate version's your best bet," He added quickly, plucking a green-and-blue treat from the pile.
This one was Ian's own masterpiece, crafted after a particularly enlightening conversation with a long-dead potioneer in the Twilight Realm, who had once faked his own death using nothing but honeyed toffee and a corpse decoy.
As for the small matter of having borrowed the idea from the twins' future repertoire... well, who could fault a seer for knowing things ahead of time?
"What's it do?"
"Will it make us spew blood? Please say yes. Something properly dramatic."
George and Fred leaned in, faces lit with gleeful anticipation.
"It's called... Smallpox Outbreak." Ian declared the name with theatrical flair.
As the name implied, the chocolate would simulate the early symptoms of a highly contagious magical ailment, high fever, faint spots, and a wheezy cough, within thirty seconds. It wouldn't fool Madam Pomfrey forever, of course, but it could certainly earn a few hours in the Hospital Wing and a postponement of their exam.
"Wait, what kind of disease is that?" George frowned in confusion.
"I think I've heard Dad mention it before. Something about it being a real nuisance in the old days…" Fred looked pensive, digging through his memory.
"Either way, it's convincing enough. Eat it just before the exam, look absolutely miserable, and you might get yourself an early holiday," Ian said, handing each of them a chocolate with an encouraging nod.
"How much does it cost? We're really skint, you know." George was already attempting to haggle, looking mournful.
However—
Ian shook his head as he spoke.
"I'd rather have you pay with your skills. There's some rather dull groundwork in my alchemical research that needs an extra set of hands."
Ian wanted to hand off some basic shaping work on Alchemical Artifacts to the twins. It wasn't especially advanced, and with the twins' knack for magical crafting, well beyond what most of their age could manage, they'd breeze through it.
"You want us to work for you?! You little taskmaster!" Fred's voice rang out with mock outrage, complete with scandalised gasp.
"But he's not asking for Galleons, Fred, he's giving us this stuff for free!" George was clearly swayed and gave precisely the argument needed to change Fred's mind in a heartbeat.
"Plus, he said we're talented! Not many people have that sort of insight!"
Clearly, being recognised for their genius meant more than gold.
"You're right. We've got to support this fellow innovator. He might be the future of the prank world, a rising legend!" Fred dramatically changed tack.
"So? Do we have a deal?" Ian seized the moment with the swiftness of a Seeker diving for the Snitch.
The twins exchanged a meaningful glance...
"Deal! Ian!"
They slapped a high-five with him like they were sealing a blood pact, then dashed off towards the exam hall with Instant Puking Pastilles clutched in eager hands.
Ian watched their retreating figures vanish around the corner and quietly pulled out a stack of charmed gas masks from beneath his robes.
"Sigh… Maybe Aurora was right. Sometimes, I really am a terrible person."
He figured Madam Pomfrey would isolate the twins as soon as the 'symptoms' appeared, giving him roughly three hours of chaos to shift the rest of his unsold prank stock.
Perhaps it was because Aurora had crossed his mind, but just as he passed the spiral staircase, there she was: seated with a notebook, nose buried in study notes for a "pre-exam blitz."
"You actually get nervous before exams?" Ian strolled over curiously. He remembered her being calm and composed in all their previous assessments.
The German girl looked up and replied, "I heard the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam is being overseen by Professor Dumbledore himself. He warned me he'd make the test extra difficult, said he wanted to trip me up deliberately."
There was a rare trace of unease in her voice. As Dumbledore's apprentice, Aurora knew the old wizard held her to a far higher standard than her peers.
To be honest, Ian wasn't shocked. What did surprise him was that Dumbledore would resort to outright threats.
"Wait, he threatened you? How exactly?" Ian blinked at her, clearly startled.
Aurora gave him a solemn look.
"Last night, after a chat with my grandfather, Professor Dumbledore returned to his office and began instructing me. That's when he told me he'd be designing a separate Defense Against the Dark Arts exam just for me."
And with that—
She returned to scanning her notes with furrowed brows.
"Hm?"
Ian waited for the rest of the story… but Aurora said nothing more. At last, he placed his hand gently on her notebook.
"And then? Where's the threat part?" He asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Hm?" Aurora looked equally confused.
"That was the threat."
She paused, brows knitting as she considered his reaction.
"Huh? Did I mishear something?" Ian looked completely baffled.
"I've prepared a different Defense Against the Dark Arts exam just for you," Aurora recited, pressing the tip of her wand to her throat and mimicking the old headmaster's voice in an uncanny rasp.
She even used a bit of human transfiguration to perfectly copy his tone and mannerisms.
"????????"
Ian stared, absolutely stunned, as though something profound had just been revealed to him.
Aurora sighed and added matter-of-factly: "I just realised the deeper implication behind his words. Ian, you really need to work on your reading-between-the-lines skills."
"I could recommend a few books I've read."
She offered help in earnest but considering her "interpretive style," it was safe to assume her reading list wasn't exactly standard Hogwarts fare.
"No need, no need! I'm quite happy the way I am." Ian waved her off in a flurry, keen to steer the conversation elsewhere.
"Still, I'd like to help you too, but my exam's not the same as yours… And to be honest, Headmaster Dumbledore's not really the sort to torment students for fun." As he spoke, Ian explained the strange psychological evaluation he'd been given instead of a standard test.
Aurora listened intently.
"Same as I said before, Ian, we need to look beneath the surface. I think Dumbledore misled you. That psychological test probably holds some hidden meaning." She leaned in, analysing: "In fact, I think your exam is directly connected to everyone else's outcomes."
To be fair—
Even after nearly a year of close friendship, Ian still struggled to fully grasp Aurora's more baffling insights. He supposed this must be what it felt like when other students listened to him rambling about obscure magical theories he'd picked up in the Twilight Realm.
"How'd we go from my exam to everyone else's?" Ian pulled a face of exaggerated interest, pretending to pay rapt attention.
Aurora paused, gathering her thoughts.
"We both know the so-called Dark Lord isn't a true threat anymore. So for Dumbledore, his real concern now is making sure no one else rises to become the next so-called 'third-generation Dark Lord' and that's the whole of it. The most effective way to guard against dark magic threats is to stop particularly gifted dark wizards before they become a danger."
Aurora said it with calm, clinical precision, her tone eerily like that of a Hogwarts lecturer.
"????????"
Ian's expression was a picture of disbelief.
Aurora seemed to register that Ian truly did have comprehension issues.
(To Be Continued…)
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