NEWT Name: ORLA FLYNN Year: 7
CHARMS Water Conjuring Charm
Orla was as ready as she could be. Realistically no amount of extra studying or practice could help. Either she knew the magic or she didn’t. At least that is what she kept telling herself. Confident as she was, there was a tiny flutter in her stomach. It hadn’t been there during the long hours studying in the common room. It hadn’t been there when she’d been surrounded by books in the library either. The weird sensation had appeared the moment she’d woken up and hadn’t gone away. She didn’t like it, not one bit.
Orla walked toward the doors of the Great Hall. Standing next to them was the messiest woman she’d ever seen. There were dark puffy spots under her eyes and other than some haphazardly applied lip gloss, there were no signs of any makeup. Cat hair was embedded all over her robes, and her bun was falling apart. It looked as if she’d thrown it together in seconds. Maybe she’d forgotten it was a weekday and woken up moments before her shift started, or, and Orla hoped it wasn’t, the examiner was just that careless.
Orla forced a polite smile as she followed the woman into the hall. She could tolerate the pitiful woman for as long as necessary. Seven years at Hogwarts taught her when to keep her thoughts to herself. Besides, with that appearance, she was most likely a spinster or one of those batty book-boyfriend types. The woman seemed like she had enough problems to deal with without hearing it from her. Whatever the reason, Orla was slightly put off at the thought of someone improperly groomed in control of her future.
The woman led her to a table near a wall.
“Use the water conjuring spell to fill the three containers with water. Then use the same spell to extinguish the flames on that torch. You have twenty minutes to complete your task.” The woman pointed one hideously red nail toward a harmless-looking torch at the back of the room and stepped back. It looked almost as if she didn’t care about anything – except her eyes seemed more awake than the rest of her.
Filling three different containers made sense. Professor Channing always rattled on about concentration and whatnot. Putting out the fire at the end seemed a little stupid. It seemed more suited for an exam for future members of the fire brigade. Did the ministry think it was a reward for being able to fill the containers?
Ugh. Whatever the reason, she was confident she could do it.
The first container was nothing more than a large goblet. Orla took out her wand and pointed it at the goblet.
“Aguamenti.” Water immediately poured into the goblet, splashing slightly as the stream hit the bottom. Once the goblet was full, she stopped the charm and moved toward the cauldron beside it.
“Aguamenti.” Being so much larger, the cauldron took a bit more time to fill. Though it took longer, the stream of water was constant, and soon the cauldron was filled to the top. Frowning at how easy it was, Orla wondered if the exams had been misnamed. Disappointed, she moved toward the final container, checking to see how much time she had left. Fifteen minutes. She hoped there were bonus points if she finished quickly. Moving to the third container, Orla fought back a sigh.
Beside the table sat a large wooden barrel. It looked as though it were meant to store wine, and had no place being in her exam. Were the N.E.W.T.s supposed to be boring, because filling up cups and cauldrons was not fun, not even a little.
“Aguamenti.” Once again water flowed from her wand. This time she could feel the weight of the water as it took its time filling the barrel. The never-ending steady stream of water was all she could see. Torn between what she thought was boredom and annoyance, she grew impatient and looked over at the timer. It took forever.
Finally, water reached the top of the large barrel. The seventh-year girl was tired. Her arm ached as if she’d actually poured the water from a jug instead of conjuring it herself. It was then that Orla understood exactly why putting out a fire was last. Unlike the bell-ringing reward she’d thought it was, the fire was almost a punishment. Like rubbing salt in someone’s wound. The fire was to test her stamina. It felt like a trick. As a Slytherin she both approved the sneaky little twist and despised it.
With five minutes left in her exam, she wasn’t sure she could do it. No, it wasn’t that she couldn’t, it was that she really didn’t want to. Just the sight of the three filled containers annoyed her. As the seconds ticked by, the thought of throwing the already conjured water onto the torch grew more appealing.
Rubbing her arm, Orla knew it was now or never. Shaking out her wrists she decided to just go for it. Failing the last part just meant losing a few points, and she would have to be okay with that.
“Aguamenti.” Water sputtered from her wand like the water trying to escape from a bent hose. Not letting that deter her, she tried again. This time her voice came out loud and clear, her annoyance very obvious.
“Aguamenti.” Drops of water splashed onto the floor before changing into a trickle and then a small stream of water. The water splashed onto the torch with a hiss and slowly smoke replaced the once-burning torch.
Shaking slightly Orla put her wand in its sheath and hid her shaking hands behind her back.
“Thank you, Miss Flynn. I will see you for your herbology N.E.W.T. tomorrow.”
HERBOLOGY extract juice from a venemous tentacula
Knowing to expect the worst, Orla was prepared to fight her way through her herbology N.E.W.T. To the shock of some of her housemates, she’d stopped studying early and had gone straight to bed. Everything she needed was in her head. She just needed to have the energy to get through the exam without collapsing.
Outside the Great Hall, Orla saw her examiner and smiled. She handed the woman her herbology kit so she could run an anti-cheating charm over it and check for any banned materials. The clipboard-carrying mess of an examiner looked slightly better today. Maybe she’d had a cup of tea in the morning or had finally looked in a mirror, whatever the reason, she’d fixed her hair and was wearing makeup. She’d be almost pretty if she knew what she was doing.
Orla opened her mouth to recommend a magical cosmetician in London, and then quickly shut it. Did beauty advice and an offer to fix the unevenly painted nails of her examiner count as bribery? The risk wasn’t worth it. Her grades were earned. If there was even a chance that beauty tips could be used against her later, she couldn’t risk it. Her uncles would be breathing down her neck once she graduated, she didn’t need them using something so small against her.
Done with her examination, the woman handed the herbology kit back to Orla.
“Miss Flynn, your task is to extract juice from that Venemous Tentacula.” The woman handed her a small vial and gestured to the large potted plant at the back of the hall. It was bigger than she was used to. Though it didn’t have eyes, she was sure the plant was sizing her up. The green spiky vines bristled as if daring her to touch it. She didn’t envy the unlucky worker tasked with bringing that thing into the hall.
Dealing with the more aggressive plants had been the most enjoyable part of herbology. It wasn’t that she hated plants. She understood their importance. It was just that watering and weeding them was boring. Most plants did nothing except offer up their parts of potions. Plants like the venemous tentacula fought back.
Opening her kit, Orla put on her dragonhide gloves, and a pair of safety goggles. She wasn’t about to fail because a plant slapped her in the face. She’d seen it happen. Her grandfather had a greenhouse with a couple of smaller ones. Her gardener had taken three months to recover. Looking at the plant, Orla knew her grandfather would pay a fortune for his to be as healthy as this one. The leaves were worth big money, and he was nothing if not a businessman.
Pushing the plant's monetary value to the back of her mind, Orla walked toward the plant slowly. She watched for any twitches or signs that it was about to grab her. Getting close enough to see its teeth, Orla looked for a smaller shoot that she would be able to overpower. She didn’t want to sever any part of the plant. Cutting the plant to get the juice would likely lose her points.
Reaching forward she saw one of the vines twitch. She managed to jump out of the way just as the vine shot forward. Taking a breath, she moved toward the plant again. This time she was ready. When the plant twitched, instead of moving fully out of the way, she took a step back and grabbed at the vine. Spiky teeth stuck into her gloves. Stepping closer she pulled at the thicker part of the shoot forcing the juice into the vial in her other hand.
Juicing the plant had been much easier in herbology classes. Doing it alone was far more complicated, and she struggled as the plant pulled and pushed trying to get free. As she filled the vial, she dodged attacks from the vines as they swung around trying to grab her.
She’d finally filled the vial when a large vine switched direction and smacked into her side. A different vine took advantage and wrapped around her wrist. Had she not been wearing her gloves, its little teeth would have been embedded in her hand. Pulling at the plant Orla tried to free her hand. She lost her balance and let go of the vine she’d been holding. The vine holding her let go as she fell. Using her free hand, she covered the top of the vial to stop it from spilling any further than it already had.
Rolling away from the plant she checked on her vial relieved to see that it was still mostly full. Standing up she grabbed the stopper from the table. After sealing the vial she placed it on the table.
Orla removed her gloves and goggles, and cleaned them with a cleansing charm. Once they were clean she placed them back in her kit. Picking up the kit she walked back over to the examiner.
“Thank you, Miss Flynn.” The woman was better at hiding her feelings than she looked. It was as if she hadn’t just watched Orla get thrown around by a plant.
Smoothing out her robes, Orla walked out the doors of the Great Hall.
TRANSFIGURATION Transfigure a rat into an object of your choice and then untransfigure it.
Nodding politely to her examiner, she followed her into the Great Hall for her last-ever exam at Hogwarts. Her final N.E.W.T. was for transfiguration. Save the best for last didn’t apply. It had never been her best or even favorite class. She’d enjoyed the challenge it offered. Her grades and the things she transfigured had been less enjoyable. Mediocre grades aside, Orla wasn’t about to worry too much.
Judging her endlessly cheerful examiner was more enjoyable than stressing, so she chose to do that. The woman’s lipstick was slightly smeared. Maybe she wasn’t a spinster after all. Orla hoped the woman was having an affair with one of the other examiners. It would make her slightly more interesting. Orla didn’t think anyone with a romantic work partner would ever be that careless, but there were always exceptions. Human beings could be stupid. It was a shame that one of the dumber ones was sent to grade her.
Thankfully the clown-like woman was not a mind reader.
“Transfigure this rat into any object, and then reverse it. You have fifteen minutes.”Fifteen minutes? Fifteen minutes was doable. She knew she could transfigure the rat into a goblet without much effort. Fera Verto was part of the second-year curriculum. It seemed too simple of a charm to attempt on her N.E.W.T. On top of that, Orla was disgusted by the thought of turning the small creature into anything that would be put in someone’s mouth. With that in mind, she decided on an object wouldn’t feel or look like a rat – a book.
Stepping up to the table she stared at the rat. It twitched nervously but didn’t try to run away. Orla tapped the rat three times on its head and cast. The mist-like light from her wand slammed into the rat with unexpected force. The horrid creature let out a strange squeaky scream making Orla flinch. As the rat transformed in front of her, she took a small step away from the table.
For a horrifying second, she wondered if she’d completely botched her N.E.W.T. Her horoscope said she was headed for further education. She’d assumed further meant better. Had it meant longer? That she would be redoing her transfiguration N.E.W.T. like some Gryffindor nitwit? She would never let that happen. Looking at the time remaining, she knew she’d have just enough time to reverse it and do it again if she had to. She just didn’t want to.
Annoyed with herself she walked closer to the book on the table. A navy hardcovered book with silver writing was where the rat had been. The title of the book was simply
Rats – boring and unoriginal. Being logical she’d never had a very strong imagination, and it showed. There was something slightly off about the text on the cover. It was almost a little blurry around the edges like someone had pulled on the paper when it was being printed. Other than that, the book seemed smooth enough, there weren’t any random teeth on it, and the pages inside looked and felt like paper. It was enough for her. It had to be.
She handed the book to the examiner. The messy woman ran her hands over the cover checking it for fur and other deformities before handing it back. Orla put the book back on the table and waved her wand in a u shape.
“Reparifarge!” White light appeared at the end of her wand and surrounded the book. The book stretched once more and then folded in on itself like clay taking the form of a very much alive, and very angry rat. She’d never really cared enough to wonder if the creatures they transfigured knew what was done to them. This rat let her know they did.
“Thank you, Miss Flynn. You may go now.” Short and to the point, Orla liked that. She’d very likely never see the woman again – but if she did, she would tell her to get her nails done.
Nodding to the examiner, Orla left the room. Glad that the entire N.E.W.T. mess was over and done with. Hopefully, she would never have to see another rat again in her life.
