20: Exam
"You really can't underestimate them, huh."
Kasen cradled the makeshift Enchanting Table in his arms, inspecting it from every angle.
He grabbed a feather quill from the desk and swapped the book on the table with a runic magic tome he had borrowed from the library.
After tinkering for a while, he selected a spell for "never running out of ink" and enchanted the quill.
"Impressive, impressive. I just provide the tools and let the students work out the principles as homework—how is that not a win-win for both progress and teamwork?"
Kasen marveled at the talent of the Hogwarts students and, without hesitation, awarded an Outstanding (O) to the fourth years for their practical evaluation.
So…
...
"As I recall, some poet once said, 'Do not go gentle into that good night.' Forgive me for not knowing what that really means; my literary knowledge is admittedly mediocre at best. But I think it's fair to adapt it slightly."
"Do not enter an exam unprepared. So, seventh-year students, tomorrow will be our first meeting, and you'll find a delightful Alchemy exam waiting for you."
"Let me be blunt: though I've only been in the field for a short time, I've gained a bit of a name for myself in the alchemy world. An Outstanding grade on my exam carries some serious weight, you know."
Kasen showed none of the friendly leniency he'd given to the third and fourth years. Instead, he displayed a smile that could only be described as the embodiment of standardized testing hell.
"Forgive me—I'd love to take you on a journey exploring the wonders of alchemical creations. But you're seventh years, and as I recall, you've got the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests coming up. So don't blame me."
As Kasen finished speaking, there were only a few groans from the students. Instead, they swiftly pulled out their quills and began scribbling furiously.
Kasen didn't idle away the time. From the storage ring he had crafted using a miniature Ender Chest, he retrieved the fourth-year project: the replicated Enchantment Table.
He also pulled out a stack of parchment. The framework for his write-up was already in his head; now all he had to do was put quill to paper.
Over ten pages of parchment were soon filled with an intricate essay detailing the profound principles behind the students' recreated Enchanting Table.
Kasen decided to send the project, along with the replica table, to the European Alchemy Exchange Association, whose alchemical journal was regarded as the pinnacle of the field.
Moreover, the association welcomed innovative alchemical creations developed by talented young wizards and witches.
His plan was simple: during the next fourth-year class, he'd have his students sign their names on the paper. It wasn't much, but Kasen figured it was a small contribution he could make for his students, even as a professor who wasn't the most responsible.
Soon enough, the seventh-year students began handing in their exams. Kasen didn't immediately begin grading them; instead, he glanced at his watch.
Five minutes left.
There wasn't enough time to dive back into teaching, but he could at least offer them a little teaser for their next class.
"Hogwarts' newly upgraded Iron Golems—some call them Steel Knights. Have you seen them in action?"
The seventh-years had long since lost the naïve innocence of their early years.
In its place was a sharp, jaded pragmatism and a restless anticipation of the world beyond Hogwarts' walls.
Recognizing this, Kasen didn't bother lecturing them on the esoteric truths of magic or the mysteries of alchemy. Frankly, he doubted they could achieve much in just one year of study amidst the stress and chaos of seventh year.
Instead, he opted for a more practical approach—one that would serve as their graduation gift: a crash course in hands-on learning, combined with something that would significantly bolster their future prospects—a glowing addition to their resumes.
Studying the Iron Golems would be an excellent starting point.
With that thought in mind, Kasen started juggling blocks of iron and carved pumpkins, assembling a series of Iron Golems that materialized one after another on the platform.
"Each of you take one back with you," Kasen instructed, gesturing toward the newly crafted Iron Golems.
"A-Are you serious, Professor?"
"Hahah, Of course, study them thoroughly. By next week's class, I want detailed analyses of their mechanisms. If any of you manage to create a working replica, even better."
"Any questions?" Kasen rapped his knuckles on the golden podium, his eyes scanning the students.
"None, Professor."
"Good. Class dismissed."
...
The break between classes passed quickly, and the fourth-year students filed back into the classroom.
Once all the students were seated and accounted for, Kasen picked up the essay on the podium.
Though it bore his name at the top, the content was pieced together from the best submissions of the students' previous assignments—an amalgamation of their finest work.
"Now, based on your contributions to the creation of this EnchantingTable, I want you to line up here in order of your involvement. Sign your names in this section of the paper."
Kasen explained, pointing to the author's section on the essay.
"Once you're done, return to your seats and write your full personal details on a blank piece of parchment. Hand it in before you leave."
"Uh, Professor, what's this all about?" Cedric Diggory asked, his curiosity piqued.
"This is a formal research paper I've written using your work. It will be submitted to the European Alchemy Exchange Association. Since you're the contributors, your names will be listed as co-authors," Kasen explained matter-of-factly.
"What—But Professor, this is your achievement! We're just..." Cedric Diggory hesitated, clearly uncomfortable.
"Stop dithering and just sign it," Kasen interrupted firmly. "I said to rank yourselves based on your contributions to creating the Enchanting Table."
"Professor," a Ravenclaw student raised their hand, "between providing materials and designing and assembling, which would you say is more significant?"
"Well, a good chef can't cook without ingredients. Without the generosity of our golden piggy banks, where would you find the peace of mind to study alchemy? But the exact ranking is up to you to figure out."
"Got it."
After some noisy discussion, the students quickly formed a line and signed their names on the essay in order of their contributions.
...
Once class ended, Kasen carefully packed the essay along with the students' identity information into an envelope and headed toward the Owlery.
"You know, you should consider buying your own owl someday. They're wonderfully loyal and efficient little messengers," Dumbledore said, leaning on the railing outside the Owlery. His gaze was fixed on the Quidditch pitch in the distance, where the Gryffindor team was practicing.
"I'm not really the type for long-term commitments. Knowing me, I'd probably get bored of it in a week and just abandon it," Kasen replied with a shrug.
"You possess a rare sense of responsibility," Dumbledore remarked with a smile.
"Mm-hmm, maybe," Kasen replied nonchalantly.
"Oh? What's that?" Dumbledore asked, nodding toward the thick envelope in Kasen's hand.
"The students' essay on the Enchanting Table. I'm sending it to the European Alchemy Exchange Association. It'll be a nice addition to their resumes," Kasen explained.
"I still don't get why your name didn't appear in the admittance book. Sigh.. Hogwarts lost an exceptionally talented student," Dumbledore said, his tone reflective. "But fortunately, it has now gained an equally remarkable professor."