Never Cursed

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔓𝔬𝔢 ℭ𝔲𝔭 ℜ𝔞𝔠𝔢

Sirius Black

The Quad

You may now turn over your exam papers," Rendell instructed with a steady voice from the wooden platform he stood on. Sirius looked at the headmaster, feeling a knot of stress in his stomach. He nervously tucked back a loose strand of his hair before flipping over his papers. "Each question should be answered with the black pen provided on your table, and any attempt to cheat will result in permanent exclusion from the establishment," Rendell continued before flipping over the gigantic hourglass next to his desk, moved outside into the Quad specifically for the occasion. Sirius had never taken any exams outside; at Hogwarts, they had taken place in the Great Hall. However, at Nevermore, the castle was much smaller, and the teachers – as Morticia had told him – had insisted on seating students one per table and spacing the tables as much as possible to prevent them from cheating.

Nevermore had a very strict cheating policy (which wouldn't prevent Sirius from cheating). They had implemented a strict policy for wizards: their wands had been confiscated two days before the exams and would remain in Rendell's office for the two following days after the exam period. Alongside this infuriating policy, the school had placed a particular classroom for the vampires too sensitive to the summer sun to take the test outside. Another one had been set up for the sirens. The mandatory 'anti-persuasion' necklace they were required to wear prevented them from hypnotising the jury. And finally, much to Remus's delight, the exam dates had been explicitly set between two full moons so the werewolves would not be agitated. In straightforward terms, the end-of-year exams had been meticulously designed, and there would be slim chances to cheat. Moreover, with the investigation of the stolen bones and Gates's murder (which Sirius still struggled to digest – and probably never will), the end-of-year finals seemed trivial to him.

Sirius lifted his head from his paper, on which he still hadn't written anything (except for his name, first name, and the date: Monday, May 16th, 1977), and observed the invigilators passing through the rows. Since early October, when he had crossed the castle threshold, he had only rarely studied for the exams and when he had done so, it had been with Remus which hadn't helped him focus. He had been convinced he would simply need to retrieve his wand when the time would come. And now, with it locked away in a double-locked cupboard and protected by a spell, he found himself in a difficult situation.

"I told you so!" he could already hear Remus brag as soon as the exam would end.

They had been at the library, studying for the botanic exam, when Remus had told him without raising his eyes from the heavy textbook he was reading, "You won't be able to use your wand..."

"Of course, I will," he had answered, fooling himself, "they don't even remember we brought them."

"This," Remus said, finally raising his head and gesturing around them, "is a magical school. Plus, don't you think Dumbledore already warned them?"

"Too much to do at home, with the dark magic rising... Don't worry," he had added when he should have been anxious, "come with me to Montevert Hall; James is at practice, Pete's hanging out with Larissa for the whole afternoon. The dorm's all empty for us," he winked. Now, it was his head that was all empty. He couldn't remember a single thing he had studied that day. Of course, ten minutes afterward, they had headed to Montevert Hall, and the afternoon had been more than fabulous.

He needed to clear his head and think on a global scale. He didn't have his wand, and he could forget about getting it back before the end of the exams. He looked at the hourglass. Twenty-five minutes had already passed. He needed to think of a distraction. Even without his wand, he still had magic. No one had ever stopped being a wizard simply because they were being removed of their wand. If the wand was broken, a new one could be bought at Ollivander's – problems solved, he thought with a smirk. But the wand directs the magic; it shapes it like a mould. Without it, Sirius knew he couldn't perform big spells. But smaller ones, ones he used daily without even being conscious of it (because they had become a habit), he might succeed.