185: Chapter 185 Fake Grades

"If you fail Divination too, I'll admit your disguise is complete."

Draco stuck his quill into the ink bottle and stared at Allen's grade estimation sheet. Potion, Charms, Transfiguration, and History of Magic were all kept by Allen in the upper-middle range. Herbology still had the old debt from his second-year mishap; Draco got a headache the moment he saw the words "controlled performance."

Pansy snapped her schoolbag shut, "He can turn exams into a battle plan; that's a skill in itself."

Nott flipped through the records, "Goal: Overall yearly grade not in the top three, and not falling behind the bottom third. Focus on preventing extra attention from Professors. Risk subjects: Divination, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology."

Zabini chewed on a candy, "And sleeping."

Allen slumped against the table edge, his eyelids half-drooped, "Sleeping isn't a subject."

Draco sneered, "Professor McGonagall would disagree."

Finals week came quickly. The aftermath of Black's escape was still swirling around the Castle. After Lupin left the school, the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam papers were reviewed by a temporary substitute Professor and Snape together. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were surrounded by all kinds of gazes. No one dared to ask openly about the time-turner, yet everyone was guessing the truth of last night.

Allen answered the questions according to his plan. In Potion Class, he intentionally left out half a line on the final stabilizer ratio. Snape paused for a long time while grading it, dropping a neither light nor heavy "Suspicious" in red ink. In Charms Class, he kept the Levitation Charm within the standard range. Professor Flitwick watched the feather rise steadily and sighed with disappointment.

Transfiguration Class was more troublesome. Professor McGonagall stood by the table, watching Allen turn a teacup into a silver-grey mouse. The mouse's ear was missing a bit, and the tail was half an inch too short—just enough to deduct points.

Professor McGonagall stared at him, "Mr. Potter, you were able to write an essay like a school journal during the Chamber of Secrets incident in your second year, and now you can't even control the length of a tail?"

Allen lowered his head, "My sleep has been poor recently."

"I have heard that sentence for an entire year."

"It shows the problem persists."

Professor McGonagall glanced at him and wrote the grade on the form, "Go sleep. Go after you finish the exams."

Draco was waiting for him outside the door, "She suspects you."

"She has always suspected."

"You intentionally made the tail short, did she notice?"

"She noticed half."

"What about the other half?"

"She doesn't want to pursue it."

Pansy came from the other side of the corridor, "Herbology passed. Professor Sprout only said that this time you finally didn't sleep through the root optimization."

Zabini followed behind, "She sounded a bit regretful."

Nott recorded, "Disguise currently stable. Divination remains."

Draco looked toward the North Tower, "What's so scary about Divination? Crystal balls, tea leaves, nonsense."

Allen paused, "Trelawney has actually made real prophecies."

Draco's face immediately fell, "I take that back."

The Divination exam was in the North Tower. The scent in the room was heavy enough to make one drowsy; the curtains were drawn, and a crystal ball sat on the round table. Professor Trelawney was draped in layers of veils, her glasses magnifying her eyes; she looked at everyone as if looking at a tombstone.

"Mr. Potter," she gestured, "Please sit. Place your hands by the crystal ball and tell me what you see."

Allen sat down, his fingertips hovering by the ball without touching it. The mist inside the crystal ball swirled; at first, it was just ordinary white shadows. The next second, the cracked pocket watch chimed softly inside his Portable Space.

The tip of the void tail pressed down on the ebony box, but it was still a beat too late.

The Third Floor old restricted corridor appeared in the crystal ball. There was muddy water on the floor, blue light leaking through the door crack, and a Black-robed youth stood before the door, holding a blackthorn wand in his hand. The image flashed for only two seconds, then changed to the Black Lake, a stag-shaped Patronus, and a flipped-over knut.

Allen's eyelid twitched.

Trelawney suddenly gripped the edge of the table, "Oh, heavens. You saw it, didn't you? The echo of time, the door, the old corridor, and the blue light. Child, your Inner Eye has opened!"

The students queuing outside immediately stretched their necks. Draco stood by the stairs, his face changing instantly. Pansy grabbed his sleeve, Nott had already pulled out his pen, and Zabini had forgotten to chew his candy.

Allen pulled his hand back, "The crystal ball is a bit blurry; I might have seen it wrong."

"Crystal ball," Trelawney corrected, her voice drifting, "No, you saw a true vision. The most gifted Divination student of this lifetime is sitting before me!"

Someone outside gasped. In the Gryffindor line, Harry looked at Hermione. Hermione frowned, as if pinning the three words "blue light," "time," and "Allen" together. Ron only heard "most gifted," his expression like he was forced to swallow bitter medicine.

Allen was very polite, "Professor, I think it might also be because I didn't sleep well last night."

"Dreams are the gateway to omens."

"I sleep often."

"That only shows your talent is favored by destiny."

Draco cursed under his breath outside the door, "It's over."

Pansy suppressed her anger, "He can even flip a Divination result."

Nott wrote rapidly, "Accidental exposure: real-time image in crystal ball, high evaluation from Trelawney. Risk: Hermione witnessed it, Snape might obtain the news."

Zabini finally crunched his candy, "Still missing one Dumbledore."

Allen watched Trelawney write an excessively high score on the grading sheet and spoke to remedy it, "Professor, I actually didn't see clearly where the door was, nor the person. The blue light might be a reflection in the crystal ball."

"Humility cannot cover the Inner Eye."

"Then can I look again?"

Trelawney excitedly pushed the crystal ball forward, "Of course, child."

Allen this time directly had his outer layer of consciousness clamp down on his perception. The white mist in the crystal ball swirled chaotically, finally revealing an ordinary teacup.

He stared at the teacup for three seconds, "I see that dinner might have soup."

Trelawney's hand stopped.

A few stifled laughs came from outside the door. Ron couldn't hold it back; Hermione nudged him with her elbow. Draco turned his face to the wall, his shoulders shaking as if cursed.

Trelawney looked at the crystal ball in a dilemma, "Perhaps... talent needs stability."

Allen nodded, "I think so too."

She finally lowered the score by one grade, though it was still higher than Allen planned. When Allen walked out of the exam room, Draco immediately pulled him to the corner of the stairs.

"Dinner has soup?"

"Common sense judgment."

"You used common sense to save a Divination disaster?"

Pansy crossed her arms, "The effect is okay; at least she didn't write a letter to Dumbledore on the spot."

Nott looked up, "Snape is downstairs."

Several people went quiet simultaneously. Below the stairs, Snape stood in the shadows, his Black robes hanging to the edge of the steps. He had clearly heard part of the conversation. Trelawney's shout of "most gifted of this lifetime" was enough to travel half the tower.

Snape raised his eyes, "Potter."

Allen walked down two steps, "Professor."

"Dinner has soup?"

Zabini almost choked on his candy. Pansy lowered her head to tidy her bag, Draco looked out the window, and Nott hid the notebook behind his back.

Allen replied, "I guessed."

Snape looked at him, "You are very busy guessing. Dementors are ineffective against you, Boggarts cannot see your fear, and the crystal ball is still willing to open its door for you."

"Professor, my Potion grades are only in the middle range."

"That is because you intentionally left out half a line."

Allen shut his mouth.

Snape looked at him coldly for a second, "Tonight at eight, my office. Bring the Divination exam description, the revised Dementor report, and your school infirmary records for your so-called poor sleep."

Draco couldn't help it, "Professor, he didn't go to the school infirmary."

"Then write one about why you refused the school infirmary."

Snape turned and left, his Black robes sweeping across the steps. After the footsteps faded, Draco erupted in a low voice, "How much stuff does he want you to write?"

"Until I don't have time to run around," Allen said.

Pansy looked at him, "Is it effective?"

"Partially effective."

Nott recorded, "Snape's continued surveillance upgraded. Divination exposure has entered the Professor line. Hermione witnessed it, Harry might pursue it."

Sure enough, as soon as they came down the tower, Harry chased after them. Hermione stood behind him, holding books in her arms, with traces of staying up late under her eyes.

Harry spoke urgently, "Allen, did you see blue light in the crystal ball?"

"Dinner has soup."

Ron held onto the stairs, "Is he for real? You Slytherins can score points on exams by relying on a menu?"

Hermione didn't smile, "The Third Floor old restricted area, right?"

Allen looked at her, "You should rest."

"Professor McGonagall took away the time-turner," Hermione's voice lowered, "But the traces left by time are still there. What did you see?"

Draco blocked half a step in front of Allen, "Granger, the exam is over."

Hermione stared at Allen, "You always let others stand in front."

Allen bypassed Draco, speaking slowly, "You always exhaust yourself until you're about to collapse."

Hermione's hands gripped the spine of her book, then loosened. Harry looked at the two of them, "I just want to figure out if the silver light has anything to do with last night."

"Being alive is more important than answers," Allen said.

Draco covered his face, "I knew he would use that line again."

Ron frowned, "That's really annoying."

"But it works," Zabini added.

Hermione wanted to ask more, but Professor McGonagall appeared at the end of the corridor and called her and Harry away. Ron limped to follow, turning back to look at Draco before leaving. Draco immediately put on a look of disgust, but once Ron turned around, he glanced at the other's ankle again.

Pansy sneered, "Worrying very covertly."

Draco glared at her, "Shut up."

Allen leaned against the wall, sleepiness pressing in. Inside the Portable Space, the cracked pocket watch chimed softly, and the image in the crystal ball was pressed by the void into the archive layer. Next to the blue light door of the Third Floor old restricted area, a new line of text appeared: Divination triggered, image confirmed.

Nott closed the notebook, "Finals disguise overall successful, partially flipped."

Zabini added, "Flipped subject: Divination. Reason for flipping: Destiny didn't cooperate."

Pansy looked at Allen, "Can you still hold on until eight?"

"Yes."

Draco said with a cold face, "You have to, even if you can't. Snape is waiting to catch you."

Allen walked toward the Dungeon, "Sleep for an hour first."

"You finally said something human."

Outside the window, the sunlight of finals week shone into the corridor. On the surface, Hogwarts had returned to exam week, with students discussing grades, holidays, and rumors about Black. In the shadows, the time creases, the chips of old cases, and the Third Floor blue light door had already connected into a line.

Allen closed his eyes for a moment.

Next time the door opens, he will stand before it.