The years always seemed to go fast, and Examiner Ladee was sure that was especially true for the students she would be testing today. Graduation was upon them, which meant adult life was upon them, which meant school was behind them and-- well, it was enough to give a grown witch some vicarious anxiety. As such, she greeted the students with subdued cheerfulness, aware that many of them would not appreciate grinning at this moment, and waited for them all to take their seat before beginning.
The desks were spread out, set up much the way they had been for the students' CATS exams two years previously. For these, the Ridiculously Anal Testing of Talents and Skills (Examiner Ladee wasn't entirely sure why it wasn't RATTS except that that looked as ridiculous as the tests themselves really were), the students were more advanced and so the test was more advanced. Still, it would have the same half-written, half-practical format as had the earlier tests.
Examiner Ladee explained the rules, explained the cheat-proof quills and parchment, explained the format of the tests (she doubted any of them had forgotten the subject-by-subject test booklets, droning on and on, subdued breaks, and eventual practical examinations, but it was best to make sure everyone was on the same page regardless), and then fixed them with the same stern glare. "Cheating will not be tolerated and you will be removed from the tests at the point you are caught. I would hate for any college, trade school, advanced program, or family to hear of such a thing, so I suggest you do not try me." She hoped that most of these students had high enough ambitions that the threat of telling their parents was the least frightening of those options, but she also was well aware herself of the fact that a good grade sometimes meant a good suitor, and that could be as important for some people as anything else.
The tests began, went on and on, and then concluded. The practical exams did the same. All the while, Examiner Ladee and her colleagues were available, pacing the room to provide support and a watchful, monitoring gaze as necessary.
22Examiner LadeeRATS - Seventh Year Student Exams0Examiner Ladee15
Gary entered the Cascade hall nervously. He remembered the last time he'd gone through this two years ago. He had been... well, not woefully unprepared, but unprepared. He'd been studying a bunch this year and had made sure that the gaming club hadn't sucked up all of his study time like his fifth year. Hopefully it would be enough. He took his seat at a desk, and waited still nervously, for things to begin. The head examiner witch went though all of the procedures and rules, most of them were the same as last time. He did not want to be accused of cheating, so he didn't even to look to see who was sitting around him. Gary watched the instructor and the things on his desk. He could not allow this to go wrong. He had to beat this encounter regardless of it's difficulty class, MENTAL and Korraline.. no wait. Korraline and MENTAL were depending on it.
When the tests began, Gary plunged in bringing every legitimate resource he had to bear against this challenge. He would not lose. He could not afford to lose. As the tests wore on and time passed, he began to notice something. It was strange and he wasn't sure what to make of it, so he spent some time backtracking and double checking things. It took a little extra time, but he found he had some to spare.
After the last test book had closed, and the practicals were competed and done. Gary felt both exhausted and invigorated at the same time. He had done it. It was over with, there was just one thing that still bothered him about all of it. Now that he felt free to converse with people he turned to one of his fellow test-takers and asked, "So after all of the hype we got about how hard that was. I really didn't think it was to bad." He frowned slightly, "Parts of it seemed downright easy, to easy. I had to make sure that they weren't trying to throw some weird corner-case exception, but I couldn't find any." He grinned at them, "What did you think?"
What was the next step? He could visualise it. He could see the contents of a cauldron in his mind, swirling with a strange, shimmering lavender hued mix. Something would get added. Something got added which turned it to its characteristic gold... And he could not remember what. Even though he had revised this, he knew he had, he knew he knew it...
The written question asking him to explain the making of Felix Felicis taunted him. It would have to be a potions question too that he was struggling on. It wasn't his best subject, and he knew that, but it was the one that really mattered to him. Well... That was sort of complicated to define. He wanted to get straight Os across the board so it was hard to say how exactly he wanted to do even better than that in potions, whilst maintaining perfection everywhere else. The real answer was that he wanted to make Professor Brooding-Hawthorne proud of him, but she would say she already was and would be whatever happened, and he knew that was true but he couldn't think about it in the middle of an exam because it would just make him cry. So he had to push that to the side of his brain and just be left with the screaming voice that said this REALLY MATTERED, and he still couldn't remember whether this was the step where you added the occamy eggs or whether he only thought that because they were shiny.
With gritted teeth, he followed the advice of every teacher to just leave it and come back to it at the end if there was time, even though it bothered his neat and orderly perfectionist streak. But so would writing and crossing out his answer mutliple times, as he already had done on his spare parchment for rough notes. He understood why magically modifying his answers was something the booklet was charmed against but he really didn't want to cheat, he just wanted to change his mind multiple times whilst maintaining a perfectly clean and tidy answer booklet - a luxury he was used to having.
He had time, just about, to go back to it, and frantically scribble some version of the last few steps, in much briefer sentences and sloppier hand-writing than the first part and then - with his pride, his emotions, and his sense of aesthetics all thoroughly put through the wringer - it was done.
The papers got turned in, and the tension was supposed to be released, and he found he sort of wanted to burst into tears because he absolutely wanted that to have been good enough for someone who already thought he was his very best. That was when Gary chimed in for a friendly, happy chat. It was probably lucky, for Gary's sake, that hexing outside of the Defence practical, was frowned upon.
"That depends," Dorian groaned, settling for running his hands over his face instead of bursting into tears or hitting his head against the desk. "Is it occamy eggs that make Felix Felicis turn gold?" he asked, fully planning to consult his textbook later whether Gary told him what he wanted to hear or not.