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HRHL# CHAPTER 206
🕑 Added 2025-06-08 01:02:19 +0000 UTCTime passed quickly, and in the blink of an eye, the day of the final exams arrived.
With the leaves of Mallowsweet completely depleted, Harry had to wait until September to continue his search for Merlin’s relics.
Mallowsweet, a rare magical plant native to Britain, was essential not only for initiating Merlin’s Trials but also as a key ingredient in potion-making. As a result, it was always in high demand on the market.
Buying Mallowsweet leaves out of season came at a steep price.
To pursue Merlin’s Trials, Harry had nearly bought up every available Mallowsweet leaf in the market, leaving none to be found.
The exams themselves were not overly complex, except for Professor Snape’s Potions test. Everything else went smoothly.
This time, the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam at Hogwarts was proctored by Aberforth, as the school governor, Miss Poppy Sweeting, had publicly declared that Professor Snape exhibited bias toward Slytherin—a serious breach of conduct that tarnished Hogwarts’ faculty reputation.
Upon learning that Poppy had lodged a formal complaint against him, Snape’s gaze toward her carried a subtle, almost imperceptible complexity.
Of course, it wasn’t quite the same look he reserved for James Potter.
After completing the written portion of the Potions exam, Ron let out a sigh of relief.
As the exam ended, he stood up and took several deep breaths.
Truth be told, he was grateful to Hermione. Her insistence that he write his own essays had paid off in the Potions exam.
At least this time, he wouldn’t get a low grade, he thought.
“How did you do?” Seamus asked, sidling up beside him.
Ron was about to tell the truth but hesitated. “Not great,” he said. “Kind of botched it.”
“Really?” Seamus grinned, as if finding a kindred spirit. “Merlin’s beard, I did terribly too! I couldn’t answer half the questions. Why was the Potions exam so hard this time?”
“Same here,” Neville said miserably. “I studied so hard before the exam, but when it started, I forgot everything. Merlin…”
Hermione chimed in from the side. “I think you need to overcome your deep-seated nerves, Neville. You’re far too afraid of Professor Snape.”
At that, Ron couldn’t help but snicker.
“What’s so funny?” everyone asked curiously.
Ron opened his mouth to speak but then thought of Snape, who seemed to lurk like a shadow. He clammed up.
“Let’s eat first. I’ll tell you back in the common room,” he said.
This only piqued everyone’s curiosity, especially Seamus, who nudged Ron with his elbow. “Come on, spill it! You’re making us itch like there’s a Niffler crawling in our heads!”
“No way, no way,” Ron said, shaking his head. “I’m not risking any more house points.”
His response made it clear to everyone what was going on.
He must have been mocking Snape behind his back—why else would he be so cautious?
Ron was the epitome of “once bitten, twice shy.” His greatest fear now was saying something bad about Snape and getting caught.
“You’re being overly cautious,” Seamus muttered under his breath. “I don’t believe Snape would just pop up behind you.”
He glanced over his shoulder to check, and sure enough, Snape was eating at the staff table.
“No, I’m waiting,” Ron said firmly.
Back in the dormitory, Ron couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst into laughter.
His outburst sparked Harry’s curiosity. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
“I was just thinking,” Ron said, clutching his stomach with laughter, “if Neville stays at Hogwarts and becomes a professor, would he still lose points to Snape? Picture this: Neville sees Professor Snape, jumps back in fear, and Snape says, ‘You’re a professor now, Longbottom. I won’t deduct points from Gryffindor, you timid fool.’”
Ron mimicked Snape’s drawling tone perfectly, sending the others into fits of laughter.
“Merlin, Ron!” Neville shuddered. “That’s not funny. I can practically hear Snape saying that to me!”
“You’re going to have nightmares tonight, Neville,” Harry said, patting his arm. “You should think about happy things instead of dwelling on Snape.”
It was sound advice, and everyone agreed.
That night, Neville woke with a start from a nightmare.
“Professor Snape! Don’t take my points!” he cried.
Harry, reading by moonlight, turned to reassure him. “Relax, Neville. You’re in the Gryffindor dorms.”
“Oh… right, the dorms…” Neville mumbled, nodding dazedly before collapsing back into sleep.
Three days later, the exam results were announced.
To everyone’s shock, Ron had earned an “O” in Potions.
“You liar!” Seamus fumed. “You said you did badly, and you got an O! You traitor!”
“I really thought I did badly!” Ron said, scratching his head with a grin. “Guess I got lucky?”
His smugness only made him a bigger target. The Weasley twins grabbed Ron, holding him down as everyone tickled him mercilessly.
“Hahaha! Stop! Stop!” Ron squirmed, but his fourth-year brothers easily overpowered their second-year sibling.
What Harry hadn’t expected, however, was Veratia’s results: a string of decent grades marred by a glaring “T” in Muggle Studies.
The Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts was Carity Burbage, a bespectacled, scholarly witch.
Veratia stared at her report card, unable to accept the reality.
A “T” in any other subject she could have shrugged off—she rarely attended classes, so a poor grade was expected. But Muggle Studies? She couldn’t fathom it. She had spent the entire term immersed in the Muggle world and was set to earn a bachelor’s degree by the end of the semester. To say she didn’t understand Muggles was, to Veratia, utterly unacceptable.
In the Muggle Studies office, Veratia sat across from Professor Burbage, locking eyes with her unflinchingly.
“I need an explanation, Professor Burbage!” she demanded.
Before Burbage could respond, Professor Dumbledore appeared in the office.
Seeing the office intact and Burbage unharmed, Dumbledore let out a quiet sigh of relief.
But inwardly, he was exasperated. Merlin’s beard, Carity, why did you have to provoke her? Any other subject might have been fine, but Miss Grindelwald grew up in the Muggle world and has been studying it intensively this term. To say she doesn’t understand Muggles is practically asking for trouble.
“Carity,” Dumbledore said quickly, before Burbage could speak, “to my knowledge, Miss Grindelwald has been pursuing advanced studies in the Muggle world. If anyone understands Muggles, it’s her.”
“But her answers were riddled with errors, Albus,” Burbage insisted. “I don’t believe they warrant an ‘O.’”
“Sometimes, an overemphasis on standard answers isn’t always wise, Carity,” Dumbledore sighed. “I know you’re passionate about Muggles and dedicated to ending prejudice, but you shouldn’t discriminate against Miss Grindelwald because of her surname.”
Veratia froze.
She hadn’t realized Burbage held such views.
But… Discriminating against Muggles is my brother’s thing, not mine! I haven’t gone around casting Avada Kedavra on Muggles. At most, I’ve only caused a few heart attacks, strokes, or paralysis for those who disturbed my peace. I’m still a kind and gentle witch, aren’t I?
“I’m not discriminating, Albus,” Burbage said with a sigh, handing Veratia’s exam paper to Dumbledore. She intended to prove her “T” was justified with evidence.
Dumbledore reviewed the paper carefully.
To be honest, Veratia’s answers were nearly flawless, though he disagreed with some points—like her claim that Muggle technology posed a threat to wizards’ survival.
That seemed a bit alarmist, he thought.
Dumbledore knew Burbage well. She opposed prejudice between pure-blood and Muggle-born wizards, was kind, and respected others.
But…
“I don’t believe Muggles threaten wizards’ survival,” Burbage said, pressing her hands on the desk. “I think wizards erasing Muggles’ memories is disrespectful to them.”
Veratia didn’t directly counter Burbage’s words. Instead, she seized on a strategic opening.
“So, you oppose the International Statute of Secrecy?” she asked, her gaze sharp and piercing.
Burbage faltered, caught off guard.
Veratia’s question was cunning. By suggesting that erasing Muggle memories was disrespectful, Burbage’s stance could be interpreted as opposing the Statute of Secrecy—a dangerous accusation. The last person who sought to dismantle it was Gellert Grindelwald, now imprisoned in Nurmengard.
If Burbage denied opposing the Statute, her argument would collapse, contradicting her own principles.
“Am I correct, Professor Burbage?” Veratia pressed, her eyes boring into her. “Is that why you’re so eager to protect Muggles? I don’t know your reasoning, but Muggles aren’t exactly welcoming to wizards either. The witch burnings of the Middle Ages are still fresh in our history. I doubt they’d embrace us with love and peace as you do.”
“Most accused witches were falsely targeted,” Burbage countered, trying to hold her ground. “It was about seizing property, not burning witches.”
“But they exploited Muggle hatred toward witches and wizards, didn’t they?” Veratia said, smiling politely with her arms crossed.
Burbage was cornered again.
“I believe protecting Muggle rights is important, Professor Burbage,” Veratia said gently. “But you must acknowledge one fact: you’re a witch. That’s the foundation of your arguments. Sacrificing wizards’ rights to compensate Muggles isn’t the answer. It alienates wizards, even Muggle-born ones, who may not agree with you.”
“If you dismissed my entire exam because you disagree with my views, that’s discrimination too,” Veratia continued, turning to Dumbledore. “I have the right to speak, don’t I, Professor?”
“Indeed, Miss Grindelwald,” Dumbledore nodded.
Veratia’s eyes glinted.
“So, Professor Burbage, I believe my answers only warrant a partial deduction, not a ‘T,’ correct?”
“Yes,” Burbage sighed. “I was wrong, Miss Grindelwald.”
She took a quill, crossed out the “T,” and changed it to an “E.”
Veratia’s lips curved into a slight smile as she turned and left the Muggle Studies office.
Inwardly, she smirked with disdain.
As Dumbledore followed her out, he exhaled in relief. “I thought you’d lose your temper, Miss Grindelwald.”
“Anger stems from powerlessness,” Veratia said lightly. “At least I turned a ‘T’ into an ‘E,’ didn’t I?”
“I never thought you’d settle for an ‘E,’” Dumbledore said, twinkling his eyes.
Veratia smiled. “Life is full of imperfections. Not everyone will like me—some will, some won’t. That’s what makes us who we are.”
“You’re right, Miss Grindelwald,” Dumbledore sighed. “Sadly, not everyone understands that.”
He paused, then asked, “What are your plans for the summer? Will you continue your studies at a Muggle university, or… something else?”
Veratia glanced at him.
She knew what he was really asking: What are you and Harry up to?
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T/N: If you find any typos or incorrect names, please leave a comment. Thanks, and enjoy reading!
Comments
nasapeepolover116
Fun fact the witch burning was nit really the middle ages it started a little after and ended i believe in the 18 hundreds
