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(D): detention; (Ø): zero mark; +/-: points

This day was the most vile day in the history of atrocious days Lucreczia had ever had the misfortune of being cursed with. It had been precisely 21 minutes and 45 seconds since she'd found herself swimming in her own clothes, only to quickly realize she appeared to be looking exactly as she had when she was about seven or eight.[1] She had been too baffled by the idea of having not realized her coffee or food had been laced with somethign in the first place in order to have a proper reaction to the absolute chaos in the Great Hall at breakfast.

And although she had staunchly advised against having any sort of exams until she could get to the bottom of whatever potion had been slipped into their foods - and hopefully create an antidote - she had been, quite obviously ignored. Obviously, because here she was, preparing for the first years' final. How was she supposed to teach in these circumstances? She could barely see past the edge of her desk as it was... Merlin's balls. With a high-pitched mutter and an insistent swish of her wand, her robes tightened and shortened until she could at least move in them without breaking her neck. She would, for now and for the sake of her sanity and the health of those around her, ignore the matter of how said clothes looked on her child body.

As the first students walked in, she was caught with a frown on her face, for a moment stupefied as to who all these adults were and how they had breached Hogwarts security. But more importantly, what in the name of Morgana were they doing diligently walking into her classroom and taking their seats as if this was just another Thursday class. Bizarre didn't even begin to cover today... She had remembered quite early on, that her voice had been ridiculously high-pitched as a child. So she was dead set on being as frugal as possible with her words. For that matter, written on the blackboard lay a big, glimmering FINALS. Not that they needed a reminder.

Climbing on her desk chair with some difficulty, she then went higher, going as far as to stand on her desk to even be able to see all the way back. She crossed her arms, a pout and a frown on her face as she waited for all the oversized, over-aged dunderheads to take their seats and seethed. Seething would be her prime activity today.

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*General information on how the class is conducted under Lucrezia may be found here

1.	The Great Hogwarts Mayhem 2010

Today was weird. There were rumors going around.  People were...changed.  He couldn't be sure. His mum had told him about days like this at Hogwarts.  'Just keep your head down and don't eat or drink anything, Francis. Don't go and grow a tail like your brother.' And he planned to do exactly that.  He had finals.  It was the first time he'd ever had a final and he'd been quivering with anxiety for a fortnight.  Perhaps his priorities were out of order, but when he walked in to find a raven-haired, round-faced little girl standing in Professor Lucrezia's spot? He just set his jaw and tried to pretend all was normal.

It wasn't easy.  There were snickers and Frank had a hard time keeping stoic. Even though she looked like a kid, she had the same mannerisms and turns of head as their old, terrifying professor.  Just.  Shrunk.

"Pft!" he held in a snort of laughter.  Someone had made a joke about her being able to reach the top shelf.

Dione arrived to the Potions final later than she would have liked, which meant that she was just about on time, even if she didn't look like herself.

On the plus side, the ridiculous transformation had confirmed that she would, in the next ten or twenty years, grow beautifully into the same daring looks as her mother, all pale skin and thick hair and bold green eyes. On the downside, she had quickly out-grown her translation artifact and only barely managed to pry it off before it cut the circulation to her fingers. While her clothes (an utterly ruined uniform!) had quickly been replaced by a quick-thinking upper-year and a trip to the Room of Requirement, her could not be substituted, and thus Dione found herself once again rendered utterly mute, without the assistance of a single dolt who knew how to properly translate her hand-signs.

So she arrived at the final looking almost as disgruntled as the Mistress herself. She grew even more displeased when she saw the state of their instructor -- even the brilliant Professor  Di Luca couldn't escape this nightmare! Smothering her anger at her classmate's laughter and the indignity of obeying what appeared to be an eight-year-old, Dione inclined her head to the Lucrezia in respect and took a seat near the front.

She kept her posture ramrod-straight and tried to look imposing in their teacher's stead. This included shooting the nearest jokester her harshest, most disapproving glare.

"Mister Sellaphix, if there's something you find amusing about your potions final exam, I'm sure you will do perfectly fine on one of the more advanced tasks, yes?" she said with ice in her eyes, ignoring the way her voice climbed an octave higher on the last word. Morgana help her get through this day without a charge of manslaughter. "Despite my insistence that we should postpone exams until this whole debacle is dealt with, I'm afraid you will have to make do with your suddenly longer and uncooperative limbs. This does not excuse any sort of accident, however" she continued stonily.

As soon as all the little halfwits were seated at a station, Lucrezia cleared her voice and crossed her arms over her weirdly non-existent chest. "At each station you will find a cauldron containing one - or two in your case, Mister Sellaphix - of the potions you have studied this year. The potions are all in varying stages of their brewing process. Your task is to identify the nature of the potions in your cauldron, asses what steps are next and stop them from going horribly wrong the second I lift their Stasis charm off them" she said with a bite of frustration to her tone. It ended up sounding like a petulant eight year old, whose favorite toy had just been confiscated.

"Extra points if you can actually recover the entire brew and finish the potion with an adequate result" she added in a casual tone, checking her small gloved. Her clothes would never be the same, after the shrinking.  And she found herself, yet again, owing Darian Morgan an apology letter... "I would advise you to take extra care in the matter of protective gear today. You can find fire and acid resistant coats in the storeroom" she gestured lazily towards the open door. "You have ten minutes to prepare yourselves at which point your final examination will commence. You will have an hour and a half to finish your tasks. Good luck" she then climbed off of her desk, with some difficulty and transfigured a couple of knick-knacks into a stack of fluffy pillows which she placed on her chair.