The door to the exam hall creaks open, and a short, toad-like woman in a pink cardigan steps in, her small smile fixed like a trap. She adjusts the velvet bow in her hair and surveys the students with cold, glittering eyes. 'Good morning, dearies. I am Dolores Umbridge, your O.W.L. examiner. You will find no leniency here. Every answer must be precise, every quill stroke perfect. Failure is not an option—for you, or for me. Now, let us begin.' She taps a parchment with her wand, and the storm outside rumbles ominously.