Hogwarts: I will not become the Dark Lord

Gryffindor's team triumphantly seized the Quidditch Cup, and their celebratory fervor lasted for an entire week, with even the azure sky and radiant sunlight seeming to applaud their victory.

For Hermione, May was a month filled with anxiety. Although she harbored doubts about Professor Trelawney's prophecies, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease whenever she recalled those predictions—warnings that she would lose someone of great importance in her life during May. Therefore, throughout May, she immersed herself in writing letters to her parents almost daily, entrusting her longing and worries to the words.

However, as time flowed by, May peacefully drew to a close, ushering in the bright month of June. During the day, the sky was clear and cloudless, and the scorching sunlight made one yearn to grab a few bottles of iced pumpkin juice, stroll to an open field, and sit down leisurely, perhaps even playing a few rounds of Gobstones or quietly watching the giant squid swimming dreamily on the surface of the Black Lake.

But reality did not allow for such leisure. The exams were approaching day by day, and the students were confined within the castle, burying themselves in revision, striving to concentrate, even with the summer breeze gently caressing them from outside the windows. Even Fred and George began to bury themselves in their studies, preparing for the upcoming Ordinary Wizarding Level exams (O.W.L.s for short).

"I told you Professor Trelawney's prophecy was just a scary story!" Hermione said softly to Jerry in the corridor outside the study room.

"Then why were you so nervous in May?" Jerry responded, a hint of jest in his smile.

In the Great Hall, Jerry and Hermione had just placed their textbooks and revision materials on the long table when they saw Harry and the others looking distressed.

"Here," Harry said, handing Jerry a note that Hedwig had just delivered, "it's a letter from Hagrid. Buckbeak's appeal date has been set for the sixth."

"So soon? That's exactly the day our exams end," Hermione added.

"The people from the Ministry, and an executioner, will be coming to Hogwarts," Harry continued.

"An executioner?" Hermione frowned in confusion. "They're bringing an executioner to hear the appeal?"

"It's certainly perplexing," Harry said thoughtfully.

"It's obvious, the Ministry doesn't want us to appeal at all," Jerry analyzed decisively. "Buckbeak's death sentence is a foregone conclusion, they just want to end this case as soon as possible! On the sixth, our appeal might not even be concluded before Buckbeak is already..." Jerry's voice trailed off, but the meaning was self-evident.

Jerry's words plunged everyone present into deep silence. And a sense of foreboding surged in Harry's heart, he felt that the people from the Ministry had likely already accepted Lucius Malfoy's proposal.

Ever since Gryffindor defeated Slytherin in the Quidditch final, Draco had restrained himself for a while, but in the past few days, he had obviously returned to his usual arrogance. From the taunts Harry overheard, he sensed Malfoy's confidence, as if Malfoy was already certain that Buckbeak's fate was sealed.

"Jerry, is there really no other way?" Harry asked in a heavy tone.

"Perhaps there is still a glimmer of hope," Jerry shook his head slightly, but a light flickered in his eyes that no one noticed, "Do you still remember Norbert?"

"Norbert?" Harry and the others exchanged glances. "Are you talking about the dragon Hagrid secretly raised in first year?"

"Jerry, do you mean we should secretly send Buckbeak away, like Norbert?" Harry asked. "No, Buckbeak is different from Norbert, the Ministry knows Buckbeak exists!"

"Don't talk nonsense!" Jerry waved his hand, saying righteously, "Buckbeak is now a criminal of the Ministry of Magic, letting him go is a violation of the law!"

"How could a little wizard like me, who strictly adheres to every school rule, possibly do such a thing?"

"Then what do you mean?" Harry asked puzzled.

How stupid! Jerry thought to himself, can't Buckbeak escape on his own!

"Imagine, on the day of the execution, Buckbeak is like an enraged lion, relying on his innate powerful strength, unleashing his potential in the face of death, desperately breaking free from the shackles on his body, flapping his wings and flying away in front of the executioner, how about that script?" Jerry said, "Buckbeak has wings, he can fly wherever he wants, there's no way for the executioner to catch him. Moreover, it's impossible for the Ministry of Magic to invest a lot of manpower and resources to track down and capture a Hippogriff. Whether Buckbeak escapes or dies, as long as it doesn't continue to cause them trouble, the result is actually the same, they just need to push the executioner out to take the blame!"

"Absolutely not, Jerry," Hermione said sternly, "it's too risky, what if we get caught!"

"Don't worry, the Ministry can't find out, I'll give them a perfect alibi!" Jerry explained in a low voice, since the Time-Turner can't change the past, then guide the future to move in the direction you yearn for!

"Harry, I'll introduce you to someone after the exams!" Jerry said after pouring himself a glass of iced drink.

"Huh?" Harry raised his head in confusion. "Why introduce him to me? Who is he? Is he from your Slytherin house?"

"Mom and Dad's friend..." Harry murmured to himself, then slowly sat back down, lost in thought.

The curtain had been raised on exam week, and the castle was so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop. At lunchtime on Monday, the third-year students filed out of the Transfiguration exam room, freed from their ordeal, but their faces were filled with exhaustion and frustration. They whispered comparisons of their scores, complaining that the exam questions were unimaginably difficult, especially the last Transfiguration question, which required them to turn a teapot into a tortoise.

After leaving the exam room, Hermione expressed some regret that the tortoise she had conjured looked more like a sea turtle, a remark that immediately aroused the dissatisfaction of the surrounding students, who thought Hermione was simply showing off.

After lunch, the students had no time to rest, and hurried back upstairs to prepare for the Charms exam. Professor Flitwick, as rumored, tested the Cheering Charm. Harry, being too nervous, cast the spell with too much force, causing his partner Ron to burst into uncontrollable laughter. In the end, Ron was taken to a quiet room to calm down alone for an hour.

As night fell, after dinner, the students did not choose to return to their dormitories to rest, but rushed to the study room to continue burying themselves in the revision of Care of Magical Creatures and Potions.

The next morning, Hagrid hosted the Care of Magical Creatures exam with a melancholy and sad mood. His thoughts were obviously wandering, and his attention did not seem to be fully on the exam in front of him.

Hagrid had prepared a large bucket of live Flobberworms in advance, claiming that they had to ensure that the worms were still alive after an hour. However, since Flobberworms were extremely resilient in their natural environment, this actually became the simplest exam the students had ever had, because they didn't have to do anything.

In the afternoon, the Potions exam arrived as scheduled, but it became a complete nightmare. Professor Snape ignored the other students and stood directly beside Jerry, coldly observing every detail of his potion-making. His quill hovered over his notebook, seemingly ready to deduct Jerry's points at any moment.

"Professor, the student over there seems to be having trouble, are you sure you don't want to take a look!" Jerry wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, gesturing for Snape to look in Harry's direction.

Better a dead friend than a dead me, so, sorry, Harry!

Harry was indeed in trouble, he tried his best, but he was never able to make his Draught of Living Death viscous.

Jerry's reminder worked, Snape, with his signature sinister smile, quietly strolled to Harry's side, watching quietly. He watched the panicked expression on Harry's face, seemingly quite pleased with Harry's frustration. As he left, Professor Snape quickly scribbled a few strokes in his notebook, the outline of the doodle subtle but obvious, seemingly silently declaring a ruthless zero score for Harry.