A day at Hogwarts.

Chapter 637 Public Outrage
The Gryffindor students suddenly noticed that Ron had become very diligent these days, studying magic late into the night every day.

Therefore, Ginny, together with Fred and George, took Ron to the school infirmary for a check-up.

"Did you use the Imperius Curse on Ron?" Charles couldn't help but ask Hermione.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him speechlessly and continued reading.

“I have bad news for you,” Charles said. “Umbridge just told me.”

"What news?" Hermione immediately looked up.

Harry and the others nearby heard this and their eyes all turned to look.

“You should be prepared,” Charles said ominously. “Umbridge has decided that, starting this month, we will have monthly exams on the last week of every month.”

A gasp of surprise immediately rang out from the surrounding crowd.

“I’m not finished,” Charles continued. “It’s said that if you fail even one subject, you’re disqualified from going to Hogsmeade the following month.”

"The first and second grade students will be recorded in the account first."

A series of screams suddenly erupted from the surrounding area.

Students from other grades came over to ask what was going on, and screams quickly spread.

At Hogwarts, most courses are followed by a quiz after each topic has been covered, and those who fail have to write a long essay.

However, this was merely a spontaneous action by the professors. The monthly exams, on the other hand, were part of a larger, more formal Hogwarts-style plan.

"How could this be!" Dean was almost in tears.

Harry looked ashen-faced and muttered, "Snape definitely won't let me pass."

Hermione was about to say something when Charles said to her, "Flying lessons also have exams."

Hermione is doomed this time too.

"Oh, right!" Charles suddenly remembered something, and everyone tensed up.

“Umbridge also said,” his voice grew increasingly menacing, “that any student who fails is prohibited from participating in any sporting activity, including Quidditch.”

Angelina immediately let out a sharp bang, never expecting that the school would come up with such a system so soon after she took over as captain.

However, what needs to be done now is to wake up Harry, who has fainted.

Lavender said to Charles, "Charles, could you speak to Professor Umbridge...?"

Charles shrugged and said, "I'm just the head of the Centaur Liaison Office. There are many layers between me and a senior investigator at the level of a senior deputy minister."

Lavender was speechless.

Charles chatted with everyone for a while, and seeing that it was almost time, he left the common room and went to the canteen to prepare a late-night snack for Ruby.

However, the unusual visitor to the kitchen tonight made him feel that there was some earth-shattering gossip to come.

Usually, the kitchen is bustling with activity at this time, with house-elves kneading dough and marinating meat, preparing ingredients for the next day.

At this time, the kitchen mostly contained only semi-finished products, and apart from students like Charles who cooked for themselves, no students came.

Today, there are two rarely seen figures here, Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick, sitting side by side on small stools by the fire, with a bottle of wine on a small chair in front of them, which smells like mead.

“…This is utterly absurd, Felius!” Professor Sprout’s voice lost its usual gentle tone, carrying a rare anger. “She even set targets for my greenhouse!”

"The survival rate of mature mandrakes must reach 95%, no problem, but they must reach the corresponding weight!"

"Does she know that some herbs are naturally delicate and need time and patience, and that even the slightest influence can cause problems with their growth?"

"This is a herbalism class. The students aren't established herbalists in Diagon Alley; mistakes are inevitable!" "But she won't listen, insisting that first-year students are at a level where they could already be established in Diagon Alley!"

Professor Flitwick, his small body almost sinking into the chair, said in a low voice, his voice heavy with weariness, "Pomona, alas, what about my Charms studies?"

"The OWLs exam pass rate... she said it has to be more than five times higher than this year, otherwise it's a teaching accident." He raised his glass and took another sip. "But students in each grade have different talents, how can we guarantee that it will be higher every year than last year?"

Charles remained silent and began to attend to his own affairs a short distance away.

He already knew that these two had dated when they were young, but this was the first time he had met them. They would even have a drink together and complain about their boss.

He never expected to overhear the professor complaining in private; it was completely unexpected.

The two professors talked for a long time, then Professor Sprout suddenly sniffed, smelled an unfamiliar fragrance, and turned his head sharply.

"Who's there?"

Hufflepuff students often come here to get food. It's fine if the headmaster finds out, but it's a problem if the food they cook is terrible.

Charles chuckled and said, "Sorry, professors, I just wanted to make something for Ruby to eat."

Professor Flitwick turned to Charles and said, "Could we have one?"

Charles said, "No problem."

He marinated the chicken thighs with minced garlic, cooking wine, light soy sauce, oyster sauce, salt, and pepper. He then stir-fried shredded onions and carrot slices in a pot, laid a layer of cabbage on top, placed the chicken on top, added the mushrooms, and finally covered it with large cabbage leaves. He then put the lid on and simmered it over the fire for half an hour.

Charles used his time magic to speed things up, and a large pot of chicken was ready in half a minute.

Professor Flitwick clicked his tongue in amazement and exclaimed, "I've only ever read about wizards using such magic in books; this is the first time I've ever seen it."

Charles smiled, filled a bowl for each of the two professors, and said, "At times like these, good food is the best way to soothe a wounded heart."

Professor Sprout scooped up a piece of chicken with a spoon, ate it, and nodded, saying, "No wonder Dancing Grass Restaurant is so popular."

Professor Flitwick nodded.

The firelight danced on the faces of the two professors, revealing the worries and weariness that were usually hidden behind their serious masks, which were now gradually disappearing.

But the topics that Umbridge brought up won't disappear.

“We’ve all heard,” Professor Flitwick said softly, “about that monthly exam. It was absolutely terrible, wasn’t it?”

Charles nodded and asked, "Professor, why are there monthly exams?"

He was still not quite sure how this monthly exam came about.

“Why?” Professor Sprout smiled wryly, saying as he ate, “Because in her view, Hogwarts is a broomstick factory, the students are raw materials to be processed, and we… we are the workers who produce the broomsticks.”

“Umbridge doesn’t understand education. Average grades, pass rates, excellence rates... these cold numbers are the only things she understands.”

“She doesn’t care why the mandrake is crying, nor does she care how many ingenious angles of casting a spell are behind it,” Professor Flitwick’s voice was full of anger. “She only cares about whether the final report looks good.”

“Our teaching has become ‘failing to meet the Ministry of Magic’s standards,’ and all we’re worth are those grades.”

Professor Sprout gazed at the flickering fire and murmured, "Education shouldn't be like this. It's about growth, about understanding, but now..."

She didn't say anything more, she just shook her head.

Charles sighed and said dramatically, "Thankfully, our top investigator hasn't issued any new educational directives requiring boys and girls to maintain a distance of at least six inches."

The two professors burst into laughter.

(End of this chapter)