125: The End of Term

The weather in England was as unpleasant as ever—stuffy and humid, just in time for exams.

Professor Quirrell was still missing, and Hogwarts seemed to have no plans to address his absence.

The younger students found this perfectly normal. After all, Professor Quirrell had always been a bit unhinged. His sudden disappearance was hardly surprising, nor was the idea of him suddenly reappearing.

For now, most students were secretly relieved. Without Quirrell, there was a chance the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam might not take place. And honestly, nobody wanted to sit that exam—they hadn't learned anything useful all year anyway. Last year's obstacle course had been far more engaging than Quirrell's nonsensical lessons.

Nolan performed perfectly in nearly every exam.

Take Transfiguration, for instance. Professor McGonagall handed each student a piece of bread, instructing them to transfigure it into a pair of eyeglasses with the correct prescription.

Nolan presented her with an elegant pair of gold-rimmed glasses that, in direct sunlight, could automatically transform into sunglasses. Granted, this made them look slightly ridiculous in the moment.

Still, McGonagall was delighted, awarding Nolan full marks and declaring the glasses her new companion until the enchantment wore off. She even swapped her current glasses for the new ones on the spot.

The only other student to receive full marks was Eve Stock. Her transfiguration was impeccable—a simple, well-crafted pair of glasses with perfect precision. It was clear she'd put in a great deal of effort.

The same pattern repeated across their exams. Nolan excelled in Charms, Herbology, Astronomy, and, much to Professor Snape's displeasure, Potions as well. Once again, Nolan achieved perfect scores, just as he had the year before.

Eve, however, stumbled during her Charms exam. While Professor Flitwick praised her effort, a small misstep left the young witch visibly upset.

Then came everyone's least favorite subject: History of Magic.

Nolan, who detested rote memorization and didn't see the value in wizarding history, scribbled down answers that bordered on absurdity.

For the first time in decades, the perpetually indifferent ghost, Professor Binns, was visibly angry.

"Why would you claim the Werewolf Code of Conduct was drafted in ancient times? Why suggest that a murderous troll served as the eighth Head Auror of the Ministry?" Binns slammed the parchment onto the desk, his ghostly form trembling. "Who taught you this drivel?"

Nolan merely shrugged. "Why can't a troll be an Auror? I don't see any significant difference in their intelligence."

Later, he casually asked the Slytherins around him, "Wait, Sandralene V was a troll? How could someone with a name like that be a troll?"

Eve sighed, knowing it was impossible to explain the difference between Sandralene V and Sarlicetan to someone who had no grasp of history.

As they discussed this, the group passed Gryffindor's trio in the corridor.

Harry Potter didn't spare Nolan so much as a glance. Hermione seemed on the verge of saying something but ultimately stayed silent.

"That felt awful," Eve muttered bluntly, her distaste for Harry evident. "He's still bitter about the dragon incident. I have no idea who he's trying to impress with that sour expression. I was the real victim in that situation, not him."

The Slytherins around them murmured their agreement. Few from their house harbored any fondness for the Boy Who Lived.

Nolan shrugged, utterly indifferent to being disliked. In his view, no one in this world was a golden galleon everyone would love.

Still, his mind was preoccupied. He was trying to piece together who had cast the Killing Curse on Quirrell that night in the Forbidden Forest.

He had suspected Snape and even questioned Draco about it. Draco confirmed that Snape had indeed left his and Harry's side briefly that night.

Nolan shared his findings with Dumbledore, but the headmaster merely smiled and said, "Don't worry about Severus. He's on our side."

But could Snape truly be trusted? Who could guarantee he wasn't still aligned with Voldemort?

Nolan couldn't say for sure, but he didn't particularly care. Ultimately, the Dark Lord's resurrection had little to do with the Draugr family.

For now, his priority was clear. While he remained at Hogwarts to learn magic, he couldn't afford to let the school be dragged into a war. Such a disruption would hinder his studies and create unnecessary trouble for both Eve and Cho.

"Hey, Nolan!" Penelope Clearwater from Ravenclaw hurried to catch up with the group. She had just finished her O.W.L.s, and from her glowing expression, it seemed she had done quite well.

"Good afternoon, Penelope," the younger Slytherins greeted her warmly.

"It's a pity you haven't been coming to Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration Club lately," Penelope said with a touch of regret. "We've all been waiting for you there."

She added, almost wistfully, "You know, Professor McGonagall's been looking for you. I saw the new glasses you transfigured for her—they're amazing! I might even try wearing glasses myself."

Nolan smiled faintly. "Penelope, I think you're fine just as you are."

"Do you think so? Alright, then." She laughed lightly, shrugging her shoulders. "By the way, do you know when Felicia will return? I've sent her letters, but there's been no reply."

"I'm not sure," Nolan replied. "Maybe she'll be back during the holidays. She's unlikely to stay away from England for an entire year."

Eve, who had been quietly leaning against Nolan's shoulder for reasons only she knew, chimed in softly, "The letters won't reach her. You can't expect owls to fly across the Arctic Ocean."

"Well, then," Penelope said with a resigned smile. "I'll try sending her more letters during the holidays."

Before leaving, Penelope cast a meaningful glance at Eve, her expression unreadable.

The moment Penelope was out of sight, Eve's demeanor shifted. "She came here just to talk to you!" she hissed, her tone sharp with annoyance. "The Ravenclaw Tower isn't even on this path!"

"She's only interested in Felicia," Nolan replied calmly.

"Oh, is that what you think? How reassuring," Eve said, her words dripping with sarcasm. Then, almost as if contradicting herself, she added, "But maybe that perfect prefect isn't as interested in your sister as she claims to be. Ravenclaws are known for being clever, after all."

"You're talking about Cho, aren't you?"

"I'm talking about—" Eve cut herself off, taking a deep breath. "I'm talking about how you should really go see Professor McGonagall now." With a pat on his shoulder, she turned and left with Alicia and the others.

Nolan found Professor McGonagall waiting for him outside Dumbledore's office. The elderly witch stood confidently, clutching a stack of papers. Her new gold-rimmed glasses gleamed in the light, lending her an air of authority.

"I hear the Grand Duchess Felicia has opened a fashion boutique as a Muggle designer," McGonagall began, her tone both amused and approving. "I must say, I'm thrilled to see you've inherited your sister's talents, Mr. Draugr. Your designs are quite ingenious. You know, we witches and wizards are rarely skilled in design or innovation."

"Thank you for the compliment, Professor," Nolan said with a polite nod. "If you enjoy them so much, I could make you a real pair. You know transfiguration will eventually wear off."

McGonagall chuckled warmly. "That would be wonderful. And speaking of talents, several senior wizards specializing in Transfiguration have expressed interest in meeting you. They'd like to discuss some of your insights into Ancestral Transfiguration."

"Should I go?"

"I know young people often find us old folk tedious—boring and out of touch," McGonagall said with a soft laugh, clearly in good spirits. "But you can't deny that, once in a while, old minds can help unlock new perspectives."

Nolan nodded, conceding the point. And so, another task was added to his growing list of obligations for the summer holidays.

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