After the attack was resolved, Quidditch matches, which had been suspended for ages, resumed with a vengeance. With less than a month left until the end of term, the remaining games were packed into an intense schedule, with back-to-back matches and at least three games every weekend.
The spectators loved it, but the players were worn out—especially Kyle. As the final exams loomed closer, he started to regret taking on twelve courses. Though he hadn't exactly planned on such a grueling load, neither Professor McGonagall nor Headmaster Dumbledore seemed sympathetic to his predicament. He still had to prepare for exams, memorizing dense material: complex arithmancy formulas, the meanings of various ancient runes, and, to his dismay, an abundance of trivia on muggle culture.
And that last subject proved surprisingly challenging. The deeper he delved into Muggle Studies, the more Kyle realized that wizards' interpretations of Muggle life diverged oddly from what he knew. Take the yard, for example. When asked about its purpose, Kyle thought of leisure activities like playing games, having afternoon tea, or just relaxing. But according to the study materials, the correct answer was "mowing the lawn."
Mowing the lawn? Kyle couldn't fathom it. A whole yard built just to trim grass? Wizards really had an odd view of muggle life.
Even more puzzling, the most popular muggle group activity, according to his textbook, was watching TV. Kyle and his friend Mikel, who'd spent eleven years as a muggle, both started questioning their grasp on muggle culture.
For the first time, Kyle found himself wishing that the mandrakes—the key to curing the petrified victims—would mature after the exams. But his hopes were dashed when Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies professor, was released from the Hospital Wing just a few days later.
Though she had missed months of classes, there was no plan to cancel her exam. Instead, Professor Burbage was given two weeks to prepare it. Mikel, who'd taken Muggle Studies as an "easy A," was now panicking. He'd hoped for a high mark, but now he feared he might be the first to get an "F" (Fail) at Hogwarts.
Despite the academic chaos, the rest of the summer term was enjoyable. The grounds were lush, the weather mild, and spirits high.
Then, exam week arrived under clear, sunny skies. For three days straight, Kyle dashed from one exam room to another, barely catching his breath.
In the Transfiguration exam, Kyle entered to find Professor McGonagall waiting beside a teapot on her desk. Students were tasked with transforming the teapot into a turtle.
She looked at Kyle thoughtfully. "This is too easy for you," she declared. "Let's change the exam." Her eyes glinted with challenge. "I want you to write an essay of no less than five feet on the subject of multiple transformations."
Kyle blinked, taken aback. He'd expected she'd ask him to perform a more advanced transformation. An essay, though? He struggled to understand how that could be part of a practical exam. Wasn't this supposed to be a practical exam? They'd already done their written test the day before.
"It's for Transfiguration Today," Professor McGonagall explained briskly. "I've been friends with the editor-in-chief of that magazine for years, and we correspond regularly. She was very intrigued by the ideas you shared at the Transfiguration Club meeting. I'd like you to enter the Transfiguration Today Most Promising Newcomer Award. Most contemporary Transfiguration masters subscribe to it, and having your name in the magazine would be highly beneficial for your future."
Kyle's eyes lit up. "When do I need to write it—now?"
"Of course not," McGonagall replied with a smile. "This essay needs to be Outstanding, and you don't have enough time to do it justice now. But two months should be plenty." She smiled encouragingly. "I'll help you submit it when the new term begins. As for today's exam…" She marked his scorecard decisively. "Full marks!"
Kyle's success didn't end there. He also earned top marks in Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. But Muggle Studies and Potions proved more challenging.
In Muggle Studies, Kyle barely put his quill down by the end of the test, as it required both creativity and an excellent memory. The Potions exam, however, was a different story. Before he could even enter the classroom, Snape intercepted him, blocking his path.
"Professor, the exam is about to start…" Kyle said, half-suspecting that Snape might be trying to keep him from taking the test to mark him as absent.
But Snape ignored the comment, his eyes cold as he demanded, "Explain that spell to me."
"What spell?"
"Don't play dumb," Snape replied, his voice tight. "The nearly sliced column in the Chamber of Secrets—that wasn't Riddle's work, was it?"
"Oh… you mean Sectumsempra?" Kyle asked, feigning innocence. "An older student taught me that."
"Tell me the truth!" Snape's face darkened as he held up a small vial in his hand.
"Is that… Veritaserum?" Kyle asked, pretending to look wary.
"Yes, Veritaserum," Snape sneered. "A few drops, and you'll tell me every last one of your secrets."
"But Professor, it's illegal to use Veritaserum without authorization," Kyle protested, sounding alarmed. "You wouldn't want to break the law just to satisfy your curiosity, would you? The Dementors…"
"Enough!" Snape snapped, his eyes narrowing as he opened the bottle.
"All right, I'll tell you." Kyle sighed theatrically. "A senior did teach me the spell. Just listen—I found this book called Advanced Potion-Making that belonged to someone who went by 'The Half-Blood Prince.'"
Snape's face froze.
"I don't know his real name, though," Kyle continued, "but I've got a hunch he was probably pretty good-looking. Of course, he might have been ugly too, but I like to think 'Half-Blood Prince' has a bit of flair, don't you?"
Snape's face turned an alarming shade of purple, and the muscles in his jaw twitched. "Shut up…"
But Kyle went on, pretending not to notice Snape's irritation. "If you're curious, Professor, I can ask around. I know loads of older students—one of them might know this Half-Blood Prince…"
"I said, shut up!" Snape barked, his voice a growl. Inside the classroom, students looked up at the commotion, but Snape barked, "Turn your heads! Anyone who stares will receive a zero on the exam!"
The students quickly turned away as Snape faced Kyle again, his voice low and deadly. "That book—where is it?"
"Um, probably in my dormitory… or somewhere else," Kyle replied, as if trying to recall. "I can't quite remember."
"Then find it and bring it to me."
"But, Professor… the exam?"
Snape's expression faltered, and after a tense moment, he gritted his teeth and asked, "Fine. Tell me the ingredients for a broad-spectrum antidote."
"Bezoar, mistletoe berries, and unicorn horn," Kyle answered instantly.
"Good. Full marks," Snape bit out, visibly frustrated. "Now go fetch that book."
"Alright." Kyle trotted out of the dungeon, made a quick circuit around the hallway, then re-entered, pulling Advanced Potion-Making from his bag—it had been with him all along.
"Professor, guess what—I found it!"
Snape snatched the book from Kyle's hands faster than Peeves could snatch a sweet, like a starving monkey grabbing food. He looked down at the familiar volume, his expression clouded.
"You may go," he muttered, not looking up.
Kyle hesitated, feigning an innocent curiosity. "Professor, you know the Half-Blood Prince…"
"OUT!"