《HP: Too Late, System!》Chapter 17: The First Lesson—A Test
Even the most naïve student wouldn't welcome a new rival for power—especially not at Hogwarts, where the hidden perks of being a Prefect were nothing to scoff at.
So when Douglas Holmes announced that those special privileges would now be shared with the newly appointed, nameless Class Representatives, Prefect Quinton could no longer hold his tongue. He stood up, voice tense:
"Sorry, Professor, but those fruits are the spoils our predecessors earned as Prefects. There's just not enough to go around for… Class Representatives."
The words were barely out before regret flickered across his face. He'd heard stories only last night from seventh-years—tales of Douglas in his fourth and fifth years. According to them, Douglas Holmes was nothing like a typical Hufflepuff, except perhaps when it came to food. One seventh-year had even claimed that the legendary Four-House Brawl had started because of this very Professor Holmes. Details, though, were fuzzy—back then, those seventh-years had only been first- or second-years themselves.
But one thing was clear: Professor Holmes was not someone to cross. In his class, you did well to behave.
Now, as Douglas fixed him with an oddly amused smile, Quinton felt a rush of regret. Then again, if he could become the hero of all the Prefects, maybe that sixth-year Prefect he admired would finally notice him. The thought gave him a surge of courage.
Douglas let out a dismissive laugh.
"Spoils of war?
Heh, well, I suppose that's one way to put it.
After all, those 'spoils' were earned through the labor of students serving detention as 'prisoners of war'..."
He hadn't expected the Prefects to be so cunning. They must have made some secret pact, quietly passing down the story that the fruit was their exclusive bounty, rewriting history after he'd left Hogwarts.
But Douglas knew for certain: neither Hufflepuff nor Gryffindor had played a part in this. Hufflepuffs got the fruit regardless of whether they were Prefects—mainly because he'd been a Prefect himself. And Bill had been not only a Prefect but also Head Boy in his seventh year. Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs simply weren't that scheming.
Now, not only Quinton but also Vina, the other Prefect, looked furious. They thought Douglas was making it up—after all, the previous Prefects had never told them any of this.
Seeing their sour expressions, Douglas didn't press the matter. He explained simply:
"Hasn't anyone noticed that the orchard where you serve detention is called the Holmes Orchard?
That's right—it was planted by yours truly.
While the school has banned discussion of what happened that year, I can tell you this much:
The reason Prefects get this benefit isn't because they 'defeated' me.
It's because, in the spirit of peace, friendship, unity, and mutual aid, I chose to share a portion of the fruit with the laborers—your predecessors—who worked in the orchard as part of their detention.
So, strictly speaking, your fruit share as Prefects was meant as compensation for those students forced to work the orchard, not as some victory prize."
Of course, Douglas would never admit that the real reason for distributing fruit was the school's punishment for his role in starting the infamous brawl.
A few students in the audience shot dark looks at the Prefects—and at the new Class Representative. After all, who hadn't spent a few detentions in their time at Hogwarts?
Douglas, still young at heart despite his professorial title, allowed himself a moment of righteous indignation.
He continued, "The fruit my Class Representatives receive comes from my own personal share. So, let's not drag them into any disputes.
Any other questions?
If not…"
He swept the room with a razor-sharp gaze.
Just then, a girl with twin braids in the back row shot her hand up, eyes alight with excitement.
Douglas had thought he'd cowed the class, but apparently, someone was still ready to challenge him.
Sigh. His 'stern face' technique clearly wasn't up to Snape's standard. Then again, Snape's reputation had been forged in a single lesson, too.
He nodded for her to stand.
"Professor, my name's Vincent Dana. I—I want to know about that Four-House Brawl from seven years ago. Could you tell us about it?
I've asked every professor in the House, but none of them will talk about it.
The older students only know bits and pieces, and the school doesn't keep any detailed records.
From what I've heard, that big fight was connected to the orchard. Since you planted it, Professor, you must know what really happened?"
Douglas blinked, caught off guard by her curiosity. Awkwardly rubbing his nose, he remembered his promise to Headmaster Dumbledore—that the incident would remain buried, lest it spark another inter-House war.
"Ahem. Miss Dana, if you can score an 'O' in Defence Against the Dark Arts on your O.W.L.s, I'll tell you the whole story—cause, process, and result. I'll give you a hint: the whole thing started with me and a few now-graduated Ravenclaw girls."
A ripple of excitement swept through the class—so the legendary fight had not only a male lead but several female protagonists as well! The students' imaginations ran wild.
Ignoring the suddenly gossipy crowd, Douglas clapped his hands for silence.
"Back to the point! Each year seems less prepared than the last. When I was a student, we started worrying about O.W.L.s in fourth year.
But here you are, fifth-years, and you don't even realize what's coming."
He wasn't wrong, though back then not every fourth-year was so anxious. Under his encouragement, Bill Weasley had even formed a study group—a paid one, at that.
"O.W.L.s—Ordinary Wizarding Level exams—aren't like your usual end-of-year tests. They're a set of twelve exams held by the Ministry of Magic that will shape your future.
The Ministry uses these to assess everything you've learned in your five years at Hogwarts. They're also the main yardstick by which other wizards will judge your skills after you leave school.
Defence Against the Dark Arts is one of those twelve subjects.
I've reviewed your previous grades. Your knowledge of magical creatures in the lower years is decent.
But last year's grasp of defensive magic was, frankly, abysmal.
So this year, you'll not only need to master the fifth-year curriculum, but also catch up on key spells you missed last year.
Don't worry—I already have a plan for your studies."
With a flick of his wand, the stack of papers beside him soared into the air, distributing itself neatly to each desk.
"This is a diagnostic theory test. It covers all the core Defence Against the Dark Arts concepts you've learned since first year.
There'll also be a practical assessment.
These results will guide our learning path this year.
There's an hour left in this lesson. Treat this as a real exam: no whispering, and absolutely no cheating with magic."
The Ravenclaws bristled at that last remark—wasn't it an insult to their House?
They were the diligent, brilliant, and wise Ravenclaws—cheating was beneath them!
But as they glanced at the test paper, their confidence faltered.
Were these really from the textbook?
For instance: Which of the following statements is correct?
a) Only people killed by Unforgivable Curses can become Inferi.
b) Can prevent ghostly possession.
c) People don't know there are Dementors in the tropics.
d) Curses are stronger than hexes; hexes are stronger than jinxes.
e) If a werewolf couple conceives during a full moon, they'll give birth to wolf cubs, not humans.
And then there were the "easy" questions—though only easy for some:
What is the effect of the Blasting Curse (Confringo)?
a. Makes objects disappear
b. Shrinks objects
c. Blasts objects into fragments
d. Melts objects
If you read the cursed book The Wizard's Fourteen-Line Poem, what happens to the reader?
a. Reads forever
b. Dies instantly
c. Gets sucked into the pages
d. Can only speak in five-line limericks for life
…
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