The Fall of Dumbledore: The White King

Finals Frenzy

As the end of term rapidly approached, a frenzy overtook the student body at Hogwarts. Everyone was consumed with studying and preparing for their final exams. The library was packed from morning until night with students huddled over books and notes. The common rooms were filled with the sounds of frantic whispering as study groups quizzed each other.

Everyone, that is, except Hades.

While his housemates in Slytherin scrambled to cram for their exams, Hades remained preternaturally calm. He had been studying advanced magic and obscure branches of knowledge all year. To him, preparing for finals was simply a matter of review rather than desperate last-minute preparations.

Most evenings found Hades lounging in a shadowy corner of the common room, surrounded by an array of thick tomes pulled from the Restricted Section. While Pansy fretted over Charms theories and Draco groused about Potions recipes, Hades pored over ancient texts on Dark magic and metaphysical mysteries. His keen mind rapidly absorbed and mastered the most esoteric philosophies and forbidden practices.

"Aren't you going to study at all, Hades?" Pansy asked anxiously one night, barely looking up from her notes. "Exams start next week!"

Hades favored her with a withering look over the top of the cracked leather book cradled in his pale hands. "I have already mastered everything that will be covered, Pansy. Unlike the rest of you, I have dedicated myself to true knowledge this year - not merely scraping by on detentions and playground spats."

The words hit home for the other Slytherins within earshot. Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and the rest all shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet Hades' penetrating green gaze. Of course, he was right - they had allowed themselves to become distracted by trivial schoolyard pursuits and Triwizard Tournament nonsense.

But not Hades. He remained resolutely focused on grander designs, devouring forbidden lore and honing his skills. He studied not for measly grades, but to unlock the deepest metaphysical truths. The coming trials were mere inconveniences to be suffered through on his path to embrace higher callings.

When exam week finally arrived, Hades breezed through each test with casual confidence and indifference. Complex magical theories and applications that had his classmates in sweats posed no challenge whatsoever. He dispatched even the most byzantine of charm work and spell matrices as if they were child's play.

From the dour Potions Master Snape to the batty Divination professor Trelawney, each instructor was left begrudgingly impressed - even unnerved - by Hades' preternatural mastery of their respective subjects. In the aftermath of his final examination, the young Slytherin could sense each of them gazing at him with slightly different eyes. He was no mere student any longer, but something...other.

Finally, the last torturous exams came to an end, and Hades was left to simply wait for the year's culminating event - the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. He paid little mind to the comings and goings of the champions as they scrambled about in top-secret preparations under Dumbledore's watchful eye. All the mystery and melodrama surrounding the Task was so pathetically juvenile and inconsequential from Hades' lofty perspective.

While his peers gawked and speculated wildly about what fresh dangers awaited the champions in the final trial, Hades could barely muster a disaffected shrug. Let them chase meaningless accolades and glory - he sought much grander, higher recompense for his efforts.

At last, the big night arrived. The vaunted Quidditch pitch had been utterly transformed into a dizzying maze of high hedges teeming with all manner of treacherous obstacles. The cheering crowds filled the stands to capacity as Ludo Bagman's magically amplified voice provided breathless commentary on the champions' progress through the labyrinth.

From his spot with the Slytherin contingent, Hades watched the proceedings through half-lidded eyes, utterly bored. Even the most harrowing confrontations unfolding invisibly within the shifting hedges elicited little more than a stifled yawn. Why should he care about the struggles of these pampered sheep hunting for worthless baubles?

True power - the power that Hades now understood himself destined to wield and command - was not won through childish games or fantastic feats of athleticism. It flowed from secret wells of ancient magic and esoteric truths, patience, and inexorable will. And soon enough, that higher destiny would be his to seize.

For now, all he could do was wait as the hedges thrashed and the crowd screamed, counting down the final moments until this absurd tournament reached its long-awaited conclusion. Then the real work of Hades' grand path could resume its rightful course, unencumbered by distractions.