Potions: O – Outstanding, full marks.
Transfiguration: O – Outstanding, full marks.
Charms: O. – Outstanding, full marks.
Astronomy: O. – Outstanding, full marks.
All top grades—except for Defense Against the Dark Arts, where Sean received an E – Exceeds Expectations.
It wasn't that he had performed poorly in the exams themselves. On the contrary, Sean had done just fine. But Lockhart had secretly marked him down in his daily performance assessments.
As for why?
Tsk. That's the price of mastering the Obliviate charm to its highest level.
Looks like I'll be coming second this year. Hermione will probably be thrilled.
Sean didn't care much about rankings. At most, he felt mildly exasperated. Any tiny twinge of guilt he'd had about writing the letter that reported Lockhart had vanished completely.
"He tampered with your grades? Lockhart actually had the nerve?!"
Compared to Sean, Blaise was far more outraged.
Sean just smiled, clapped Blaise on the shoulder, and said,
"Why are you angrier than I am? I'm not bothered. When it comes to learning, what really matters is what you actually learn. Whether your score is a little higher or lower doesn't change that."
Speaking of scores, Blaise had actually done quite well this year.
Particularly in Astronomy and History of Magic—subjects that required steady memorisation and consistent revision. Thanks to the relentless encouragement (and supervision) of his ex-girlfriend, Blaise had earned O's in both subjects. They were his only O's, but he was proud of them nonetheless.
It was clear: Blaise was set to enjoy a very good summer holiday this year.
After collecting their results, Sean and Blaise left the Slytherin common room together and made their way to the Great Hall for lunch.
But before Sean could reach the Slytherin table, he was intercepted—Hermione and her two ever-present companions, Harry and Ron, hurried over and stood directly in front of him.
"Sean, you're not number one anymore."
Hearing this, Sean raised his eyebrows slightly and smiled at Hermione. "Congratulations, Hermione."
However, when Hermione heard Sean's congratulations, she didn't smile at all. Instead, her expression collapsed at once, and she said helplessly, "I'm not first either, Sean. I'm third."
Hermione said this through clenched teeth.
"Not first? Then who is?"
"A girl from Ravenclaw. I think her name is Katherine Bishop. She was third last year."
"Well, there's nothing to be done then. They worked hard this year and earned it. We came close. Just means we'll have to push harder next year."
Hermione gritted her teeth again when she heard Sean's words. She clearly hadn't gotten over it.
Losing to Sean—Hermione could accept that. Somewhat. She had seen Sean's essays and homework with her own eyes, had watched his paper appear in The Golden Crucible, and remembered how often he outshone even the professors in class. As much as it pained her, she had to admit he was ahead of her.
But Katherine Bishop?
Hermione simply couldn't convince herself of that. How could she believe that girl had surpassed both her and Sean—especially when Sean had been constantly sabotaged by Lockhart and ended up with an E in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and she herself had been petrified and lost months of study time?
"Sean, if you hadn't been targeted by Lockhart, and I hadn't been petrified, there's no way she would've been first. You and I—we would never have lost to—"
"Hermione! That's enough!"
Sean suddenly cut her off. He froze mid-sentence, eyes flicking past her shoulder. Hermione, startled, turned around—
And there she was.
Katherine Bishop.
Walking straight toward them.
"Hermione Granger, right? Winning is winning, losing is losing. If you run into problems you can't solve, that's your own responsibility—not mine. I sat the same exams as everyone else, and I got first place. I earned that result honestly, and I'll hold my head high with it. You came third. What you ought to do is stop making excuses or whispering about others behind their backs, and focus on climbing back up next year."
As Katherine finished speaking, Hermione's face flushed red. She opened her mouth, trying to respond—but nothing came out.
Seeing her expression, Sean couldn't help but sigh. How had he ended up caught between two furious witches? A disaster out of nowhere.
Sean had always considered Hermione a friend. He turned toward Katherine with a calm smile and said, "Katherine, Hermione didn't mean it like that. She's just… competitive. She wasn't trying to insult you or belittle your achievement. Don't take it too seriously. Still, she did say something that was a bit out of line, so…"
Sean turned to Hermione and said, "Hermione, apologize to Katherine."
Hermione opened her mouth again, but for a moment, no words came.
Katherine gave Sean a brief nod, then turned as if to leave—but before she could take a step, Hermione reached out and grabbed the sleeve of her robe.
Katherine frowned slightly and looked back at her. Hermione took a deep breath, then spoke earnestly.
"Katherine, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant just now. I was just… unconvinced. I thought I could've done better. I kept thinking that if I hadn't been petrified, maybe I would've had a perfect run. But I didn't mean to insult you or act like you didn't deserve it. Please—accept my apology."
Katherine looked down at Hermione's hand, then gently took it in her own and gave it a shake, a faint smile softening her face.
"Nice to meet you, Hermione. I hope we can have a fair competition next year. But just so you know—I won't be handing over the top spot that easily."
Hearing Katherine's words, Hermione nodded seriously. "Same here. I'll be first next year."
They let go of each other's hands. Katherine turned and walked back to the Ravenclaw table, while Hermione said a quick goodbye to Sean and left with Harry and Ron, who had also muttered brief goodbyes before following her back to the Gryffindor table.
As the two girls walked away, Sean let out a long, helpless sigh, then turned to rejoin Blaise and head toward the Slytherin table. But the moment he sat down—
Craaaaaaaw!
A sharp eagle's cry echoed through the Great Hall. A familiar snow sculpture swooped down and dropped a package directly onto Sean's head.
Catching it reflexively, Sean looked up at the departing bird, its wings already flapping as it exited through the open arch above. He didn't even need to open the package to know what it was. Others in the Hall, recognizing the snow sculpture, turned their attention toward him, clearly expecting something significant.
Sean was just about to untie the string—when another owl swooped into the hall.
It was Rok, the family owl, and it landed gracefully in front of him, dropping a letter into his lap.