Disclaimer: See chapter before previous chapter. Also, some of the information in this chapter was taken from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, written by J. K. Rowling but under the name of Newt Scamander (which is why some of it is a bit strange and a little gross but definitely entertaining). The part I'm referring to is easily recognized even by those who haven't read Fantastic Beasts (which is a good read, by the way. Definitely funny. I love the side notes. Anyone who hasn't read this book should go out and buy it right away because all proceeds will go to Harry's Books fund to help needy children in the poorest of countries [oh hell, I sound like a walking advertisement . . . only I'm not walking at the moment]).
Summary: See first part of answer for above Disclaimer.
Small Snippet to Torture Reader Until Reader Reads (and Reviews .:Hint:. .:Hint:.): She'd leant her cheek into his hand, closing her eyes, effectively stopping his movements. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, his heart pounding madly in his chest, as he realized . . . she was close - too close . . . He froze. Harry Potter was not normally one to freeze, but at that moment, he had. He couldn't move . . .
~*~*~*~*~
O.W.L.s and Aurors
(Chapter Four)
~*~*~
The room was quiet with the exception of their soft breathing. The two friends were still tangled in each others' arms, enjoying the calm of the moment. Harry could feel her chest rise and fall against his own with each breath she took . . . slow, deep. He didn't know how long they had been there, and he didn't much care; he never wanted to move.
It was the first time he'd felt - anything real - since the last time Death had made her presence known to his eyes; it was the first time he'd ever been held like this; and it was the first time he'd ever felt truly alive. He was amazed at how such a simple act, just holding Hermione in his arms, could make him feel such things when nothing else in his whole of (almost) sixteen years had done so.
Finally after a few more moments, Hermione stirred and pulled away slightly to look into his eyes. He could see every detail of her face . . . every freckle, every eyelash.
She smiled at him softly, "Your eyes are shining."
He raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding what she meant.
She seemed to know this, though, as she continued to explain. "When I first met you on the train in first year, your eyes were shining from pure excitement of what was to come. Over the years, they've been losing that shine . . . like you were giving up on living. Now, they're brighter than I've ever seen them."
"I'm happy right now." His voice came out scratchy, having just used it for the first time since they'd stopped their previous conversation.
She didn't say anything to his response, just smiled wider.
He noticed that her face was still wet with a few lingering tears that hadn't yet dried up, so he reached a hand to her cheek, slowly wiping away what was left of the tiny drops with his thumb. Before he could finish, though, she'd leant her cheek into his hand, closing her eyes, effectively stopping his movements. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, his heart pounding madly in his chest, as he realized . . . she was close - too close . . .
He froze.
Harry Potter was not normally one to freeze, but at that moment, he had. He couldn't move, and before he knew it, the moment of tension had passed with the interruption of Mrs. Weasley's voice calling up the stairs for him.
Hermione's eyes flew open to stare into his own for a brief moment before pulling away from him completely to stand up. He immediately missed the contact but forced himself to deal with it and rise from the floor, as well.
He didn't want to face the others yet and was tempted to pretend that he hadn't heard the woman's call, but Hermione wouldn't have any of it. She reasoned with him that if he didn't go, Mrs. Weasley would come up the stairs to get him anyway, and of course, he knew she was right.
The two were about to leave when they heard a squawk come from the other side of the room. There, sitting on the bed, was a large mass of grey feathers and fur. The hippogriff tilted his head to the side and squawked again.
"Buckbeak? I didn't know you were still staying here," Harry said. He hadn't even noticed the creature before while in such an emotional state and wondered how he could have missed such an obvious distraction. He gave a short bow to the hippogriff, and the beast, in turn, lowered his head to indicate it was safe for Harry to approach him. Hermione repeated Harry's actions, and after the large creature lowered his head a second time, both of them sat next to Buckbeak and began to stroke his head.
"I wonder why he's still here. . . . I'd have thought he'd have been given back to Hagrid. I mean, it isn't as if Hagrid hasn't kept illegal pets before," Harry said while watching Buckbeak's eyes close in pleasure from all the attention he was receiving.
"I don't know, Harry. None of the others have said anything about him. Of course, I haven't been here for very long, but still -" She stopped at the sound of creaking steps, alerting the two that Mrs. Weasley was making her way toward them.
"Come on. Let's go. We can come back later." Harry grabbed her hand and rushed out of the room. He didn't want anyone else to enter Sirius's old room, so he hurried to leave as fast as he could. He knew it was stupid, but he was afraid that if someone were to enter that room, they would be trespassing on sacred ground. He didn't want that. He didn't want anyone to mess with his godfather's memory, so, therefore, no one else was to set foot in that room. He would do anything he could to prevent others from invading his space, even if it meant having to face a crowd of people when he wanted to be alone.
Halfway down the steps, they were forced to stop their running to avoid a collision with the red-headed witch in their path.
"Oh, Harry! Good, I was just looking for you. The Headmaster is here and wishes to speak with you," Mrs. Weasley said, barely stopping before dragging Harry down the rest of the steps to meet Dumbledore, leaving Hermione to hurry behind them.
Dumbledore was standing at the base of the stairs, talking to Lupin. He greeted Harry and Hermione in his usual polite manner and asked to talk to Harry alone for a bit. Harry followed his headmaster into an empty room on the base level of the house, wondering if the aged Professor was going to give him information about the attack of the previous night.
Dumbledore closed and locked the door behind them, waving his wand to cast a few other spells (Harry assumed they were to ensure the two weren't overheard) before sitting on a sofa and motioning for Harry to do the same. He paused for a moment, as if to gather his thoughts, before beginning. "Harry, I must ask you first; did you have any more dreams following your initial one?"
"Erm, no, actually. I don't remember dreaming about anything at all after the first dream," Harry answered slowly, just realizing that what he'd said was quite true yet unusual for him. Normally, he'd at least have a few more nightmares after one of his 'visions' (as he'd come to call them), but this time there had been nothing.
The Headmaster seemed to be expecting this answer, as he nodded his head, confusing Harry greatly. How did he know that Harry hadn't dreamt any more that night? "I had been hoping that would be your answer. It means that your Occlumency training has helped after all," he said after seeing the confusion on Harry's face. "What was the last thing you thought of last night before falling back to sleep?"
Harry thought for a moment before answering, "Well at first, I was thinking about the dream I'd just had, but . . . I was too tired to continue thinking about much of anything, really."
The aged wizard nodded again, his large silver beard glistening in the soft light as it moved. "You've been practicing to clear your mind each night, then?"
"Yeah . . . well, almost every night," Harry corrected himself. "It was kind of hard, clearing my mind of all emotion, when I was with the Dursleys. They aren't exactly the easiest people to get along with, and it's hard to control my temper when I'm around them most of the time."
Dumbledore chuckled lightly, "Yes, I suppose the Dursleys didn't make your plight any easier. Though, this summer you did manage to control your magic around them, did you not? So, that is an achievement, especially when you take the fact that you've been on quite the emotional cycle as of late into consideration."
It was true. Harry hadn't lost control of his magic even once during the summer. It had taken all his will and power to do it, but he'd kept his magical ability in check around his jumpy relatives. Maybe, Snape had helped him after all? But he wasn't so quick to forgive Snape for what had happened to Sirius and squashed the thought of the wretched Professor actually having helped him. He told himself that he'd done it on his own. The Occlumency hadn't started to take effect until after his few weeks of summer practice, after all. No, he would never give Snape credit for Harry's success, not after what he'd done to Sirius.
"Well now that we have that out of the way, I dare say you have a few questions for me about last night?" The Professor's voice broke through Harry's inner tirade of the Potions Master, effectively turning his thoughts toward the events of the previous night once again.
"Right. Did you ever find the three people I told you about?" Harry asked, having been wondering the answer ever since his talk with Dumbledore the night before.
The wizard in front of Harry gave him an appraising look before delivering the answer Harry had been waiting for. "Yes, we did manage to find three bodies; however, the curious thing is that they were all Aurors," he said slowly. "You did say that one of them was supposed to be a Death Eater, did you not, Harry?" he asked, raising a silver eyebrow.
"Yeah. that's what Wormtail said, at any rate," Harry replied, furrowing his brow in thought of what such news could mean.
"Well then, this means one of two options. Either Pettigrew was mistaken, which I doubt either of us believes, or -"
"One of them was a spy," Harry realized aloud, cutting off the Headmaster's sentence.
"Correct. The question now is . . . which one?" Harry could see Dumbledore's eyes twinkling slightly, as though the old man loved a good riddle (which Harry knew to be quite true) - beside the fact that three people had died.
"Wormtail never mentioned names. . . . Couldn't you just look on the left forearm of each one?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Normally, that would work . . . if they were alive. You see, once a Death Eater dies, his or her link to Voldemort is disconnected, and the Dark Mark fades, leaving us without the faintest idea."
"Is there a way to find out who it was, then?" Harry asked.
He looked thoughtful, as he contemplated his answer. "There are many ways. Most of them are merely educated guesses based on other bits of information gathered. Only one way is definite; though, I don't think Tom is about to tell us any time soon."
Harry snorted at the thought of Voldemort strolling into the Aurors' department in the Ministry (perhaps whistling a jaunty tune) to tell them who had been working as a double agent for the Dark Lord just to rub it in each of their faces that he was getting the better of them. "I'll definitely have to agree with you on that one, Professor." Once he was able to get the disturbing image of Voldemort prancing around out of his head, he asked, "Do you have any idea who it was then, Sir?"
"I do have my theories. I suspect it was the newest Auror of the bunch to join the Ministry for the simple fact that he was new and hadn't had the time to build up relationships and trust amongst the others yet. That answer may seem a bit biased, but I do have other reasons for suspecting him that I won't bore you with now. No matter what I may believe, though, it doesn't really matter. There is no proof that any one of them was a Death Eater, and the Ministry's records will show as such; none of them will be labelled a traitor." He took a deep breath and resituated himself on the couch before speaking again, "The real concern isn't of who Voldemort has in the Ministry working for him, but that he does have people there serving to destabilize our government. The fact that he can single out members who have taken an oath to serve our country to the best of each one's ability and persuade them to join him in his quest to rule over everything is quite scary . . . that there are people who are so week and naïve that he can twist each one's views of reality to fit his needs, or worse, that there are people who actually agree with his ideals.
"The real question now . . . how do we stop this from happening? How do we keep people loyal to our cause? One answer is to show them the best of what we can give, to persuade them with gifts. However, that way isn't a very safe guarantee; we may be able to interest them for a while, but Voldemort will offer things that are better to interest them more (regardless of whether or not he actually fulfils his promises). Minister Fudge never quite understood that. . . . Another answer is unity - to create a bond so strong between our fellow wizards and witches that nothing could break it. Friendship. That answer is the strongest there is."
Everything that Dumbledore was telling him was definitely something of importance (everything his headmaster told him generally was), but Harry couldn't understand why he was telling him this now of all times. He knew the saying "united we stand, divided we fall", but why was Dumbledore going on about it right now? He decided not to worry about it too much and figured that he'd understand when the time came for him to do so.
They sat in silence for a while, thinking over what had been said, before Dumbledore asked, "Was there anything else that you wanted to ask me about, Harry?"
Harry's mind wandered over the night before when he'd talked to his professor last, and a thought suddenly hit him. "What was that candle thing Mr. Weasley used to contact you with?"
Dumbledore smiled and nodded. "Ah, you mean the Phoenix Flame. A very useful invention of mine, but it's very dangerous if used by one who isn't skilled in Occlumency and Legilimency. A person must be able to separate their mind and control two entities at once. While a person is using the Flame, there are essentially two of that person and two realities for that person: The reality the person's body is in and the reality the flame is in. Once mastered, the Phoenix Flame is a very useful way of communicating; however, I'm the only one, to my knowledge, who has ever been able to perfect it, meaning that anyone who knows the incantation can summon my presence using an ordinary candle but can not summon the presence of anyone else."
"But, what if someone in the Order needs to contact someone other than you? The Phoenix Flame won't help, then. . . ." Harry interrupted.
Dumbledore nodded again. "Very true. That is why there are a couple of . . . safer ways of communicating that everyone in the Order can use. Can you think of them?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Professor, if I could have thought of them, don't you think I would have used them at the end of last term?"
"Right, right, of course. Well, maybe a few hints would help?" Harry was about to interrupt to ask why Dumbledore couldn't just tell him the answer out right, but the Headmaster continued on before Harry had even opened his mouth. "Harry, think back to your second year when you were in the Chamber of Secrets. How did you get Gryffindor's sword?"
"I pulled it out of the Sorting Hat. . . ."
"And how did you get the Sorting Hat?"
"I - I got it from Fawkes. . . ." Suddenly, Harry's eyes widened. "You use Fawkes to send messages! As long as people are loyal to you, they can call Fawkes to them and use him to deliver messages quickly without fear of being intercepted since he can disappear and reappear almost instantly!" Of course! It was so simple! Why hadn't he thought of it before? He could have sent a letter to Sirius using Fawkes and would have found out that the vision wasn't real. If only he had thought just a little harder, he could have kept Sirius from dying! But he hadn't - he hadn't thought about it. He'd just gone and rushed off to the rescue like every other time. Stupid! He should have thought of it! It seemed so simple now . . .
"Harry." He looked up when he heard the stern voice. "I am not telling you how the Order communicates just so you can berate yourself for not having thought of these things at the end of last term. I am telling you so that we may be able to prevent history from repeating itself. Do you understand? It was not your fault."
Harry nodded his understanding, but he still felt guilt wash over him. Suddenly, he wished Hermione was there like she had been earlier. He wished she was there to take the pain away.
"Harry." Dumbledore's voice was a lot softer than before. "I know it's hard, but we must go on." He wasn't sure if he meant to continue the conversation or to move on and get over Sirius. Either way, he didn't feel much like doing either. He figured the Professor was talking about the conversation, though, when he continued. "The last way we communicate is one you are quite familiar with and have been able to do since your third year. It's a spell that has saved your life as well as others quite a few times. Can you think of it?"
A spell he'd been able to do since his third year that had saved his life along with others more than once . . . What happened third year? He met Sirius for the first time. That was the first time he'd gone gallivanting off to save Sirius - just like a few weeks ago - NO! He shouldn't think of such things. He needed to be strong. Sirius wouldn't want him to be so sad. He had to be strong. Now, a spell . . . what spell? Third year . . . Sirius had escaped from Azkaban . . . Hogwarts had been surrounded by dementors to try to catch Sirius. . . . Harry had to learn to defend himself against them . . . he had to learn how to create a Patronus! "A Patronus! You use Patroni to communicate! Right?"
"Correct. You see Harry, a Patronus can last for as long as the caster needs it to, allowing it to travel great distances if necessary. Though, a Patronus will fade once it's completed its task and can be intercepted, making it unreliable to send messages. They are very useful, however, when you need to call somebody to you. They can find and lead a person straight to you if you are ever in need of that person. Since nobody can reproduce another's Patronus exactly, just like no two people are exactly alike, even when using Polyjuice Potion, it is generally easy to recognize who is in need of help without the worry of the Patronus being false, assuming of course that the person being called for knows who the Patronus belongs to."
Harry suddenly remembered something. "In my fourth year . . . right after Krum had been attacked on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, you used your Patronus to call Hagrid to you, didn't you? Your Patronus is a phoenix. . . . Is that why the Order is named the Order of the Phoenix?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, my Patronus is a phoenix and is the reason for the Order's name. Furthermore, everybody who has joined the Order of the Phoenix is able to create a Patronus and has memorized every other member's Patronus' form."
Harry's brow furrowed at what Dumbledore had just told him. "Sir, what happens if someone wants to join the Order but is unable to cast a Patronus?"
"I'm afraid that anyone who is unable to cast a Patronus will not be accepted into the Order. A Patronus is created based on a strong, happy memory; if a person can not find even the slightest bit of happiness in the darkest of times, then they are not ready to join the Order." He sighed, his features showing his true age, as they often did when his thoughts burdened him. "It is, of course, a shame to lose people who are willing to help in the fight against Voldemort, but I will not allow those who are not strong enough to be a part of something where strength is so necessary for survival, not if I can help it. Though, I suppose we don't lose those people completely. They still help the Order when they can; they just aren't able to join where they would be purposely sent on dangerous missions."
"But what about Mrs. Figg? Isn't she in the Order? She can't create a Patronus. She told me so last summer," Harry reasoned.
"Ah, right. I suppose I'm forced to take back my words, then. I will make allowances for those who haven't a drop of magic to work with yet are adamant about helping," Dumbledore chuckled slightly while smiling benignly. "It's not often I'm corrected. I must say, it is quite refreshing."
Harry smiled, wondering what Hermione would do if she ever found out that he'd corrected the greatest wizard of their time.
"Now, I think I need to speak with a few others before I leave today, so if you don't mind, Harry, I'll have to stop our discussion here."
Harry nodded, and they both left to find the others still in the kitchen where Harry could hear Ron's voice coming from.
"I had one of them, once," Ron said, leaning back in one of the chairs at the table.
"One of what?" Harry asked, as he walked into the room.
"A Puffskein."
"What's a Puffskein?"
"Oh honestly, Harry! Don't you know what one is?" Hermione interrupted. He shook his head. "A Puffskein is a common wizarding pet. They're spherical in shape and are covered in soft, custard-coloured fur. They are very affectionate, making a low humming noise when content and are very easy to care for as they'll eat just about anything. They also -"
"Now you've gone and done it, Harry. You've got her talking like a bloody text book, again!" Ron said, effectively cutting off Hermione's monologue.
"I do not talk like a text book, Ron!"
"Yes, you do, Hermione."
"I do not!"
"Harry, tell her she talks like a text book!"
"Harry, tell him I do not!"
"SO-O, what happened to your Puffskein?" Harry asked, refusing to get in the middle of a fight with his best friends and completely ignoring their spat. "You said you had one, once."
"Oh, right. Well, I woke up one day and couldn't find it. It turned out that Fred had used it for Bludger practice."
"That's horrible!" Hermione made a face mixed between shock, horror, and pity for the poor creature while the others in the room burst out laughing.
"N-No, it's n-not, Her-m-mione," Fred managed between bouts of laughter. "It didn't mind one bit. That thing was humming from here all the way to Bufu, Egypt by the time I was done with it."
"Well, I, for one, am glad we didn't have it for too long," Ginny shuttered. "It used to wake me up in the middle of the night with its long tongue up my nose . . . not a pleasant experience."
"Aw, what are you talking about, Gin? That's the best part about Puffskeins! They eat your bogies for you, so you don't ever have to blow your nose!" George argued, making fresh peels of laughter fill the room. Ginny childishly stuck her tongue out at him as if doing so would prove her point but did the exact opposite instead. "Yeah, you've got the idea, Gin; though, your tongue needs to be a bit longer." After that, she promptly pulled her tongue back into her mouth, making a disgusted noise and pulling a face.
Dumbledore began chuckling at their antics from the doorway. "As fascinating as this subject is, I must pull you away for a moment, Molly, Remus, if you don't mind."
"Of course, Headmaster," Mrs. Weasley consented, following Remus and Dumbledore out of the kitchen.
The door had barely begun to close before Dumbledore was back. "I think it'd be best to give you these now before I forget." He laid a stack of envelopes on the table and left once again.
"I wonder what they are. . . ." Ron said to no one in particular.
"Well, they're our Hogwarts letters, of course! What else would Dumbledore leave for us?" Hermione said exasperatedly while Ron's ears turned pink. "And if I'm correct in my assumption, our O.W.L. results will be in there as well, aside from Ginny's that is," she continued excitedly, reaching out for her letter.
Harry tore into his own letter, wanting, yet, dreading his results. There were two letters and another envelope stamped with an 'M' in the middle of a wax seal. He looked over the two letters first, recognizing them to be the usual welcome-back letter and book list received every year by Hogwarts' students. He then ripped open the second envelope to find his O.W.L. results.
Dear Mr. Potter,
It is the Ministry's duty and pleasure to inform you of your O.W.L. results. Your scores are posted below as well as recommendations for classes you should consider pursuing during the rest of your Hogwarts career. A form is included with this letter to be filled out and sent to the Headmaster of Hogwarts before the start of your next term to sign up for your sixth and seventh-year classes. Congratulations on the completion of you O.W.L.s.
On behalf of the entire W.E.A.,
Griselda Marchbanks
Head of Wizarding Examinations Authority
-
The scores for O.W.L.s are as follows:
O - Outstanding - one O.W.L.
E - Exceeds Expectations - one O.W.L.
A - Acceptable - one O.W.L.
P - Poor - zero O.W.L.s
D - Dreadful - zero O.W.L.s
N/A - Not Applicable
-
Ancient Runes: N/A
Arithmancy: N/A
Astronomy:
Written - O
Practical - A
Overall - E
Care of Magical Creatures:
Written - O
Practical - O
Overall - O
Charms:
Written - O
Practical - O
Overall - O
Defense Against the Dark Arts:
Written - O
Practical - O
Overall - O
Divination:
Written - E
Practical - A
Overall - A
Herbology:
Written - O
Practical - O
Overall - O
History of Magic:
Written - E
Practical - N/A
Overall - E
Muggle Studies: N/A
Potions:
Written - O
Practical - O
Overall - O
Transfiguration:
Written - O
Practical - O
Overall - O
Total O.W.L.s Achieved: 9
Class Ranking: Second
Career of Interest: Auror
Recommended Classes:
Advanced Charms
Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts
Advanced Potions
Advanced Transfiguration
Note: At least one other class should be taken. Auror Academy will only accept those who have scored a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s with a minimum score of "Exceeds Expectations" for each.
"Ah! I got eleven O.W.L.s, and I scored all 'O's!" Harry vaguely registered Hermione doing a little celebratory dance before he heard her ask, "Harry, what did you get? Harry?"
"Hey, mate, are you in there?" Ron asked, waving his hand in front of Harry's face. "Wow, your scores can't be that bad, Harry, even I got six O.W.L.s."
"I got an 'O' in Potions," Harry practically whispered, as though he were afraid he might wake from a dream if he spoke too loud.
"You WHAT?" Ron shouted disbelievingly, effectively shocking Harry out of his reverie.
"Oh my gosh, Harry! Did you really? Let me see!" Before Harry'd had any time to react, Hermione had snatched his results out of his hands. Her eyes roved over the parchment before letting out an excited squeal. "Harry! This is wonderful! You scored the second highest score in our entire year! You're only behind me! I'm so proud of you!" She then threw her arms around him, practically squeezing him to death from the ferocity of her embrace.
While Harry and Hermione were distracted, Ron took Harry's scores from Hermione to look over. "How in bloody
hell did you get a passing O.W.L. in Divination?" All Harry could do to answer his question was to shake his head
from side to side. "Well, it looks like you're well on your way to becoming an Auror, doesn't it?"
Ron continued. Harry nodded, still unable to speak. "Too bad I won't be joining you," Ron said, his
features becoming downcast. "I only got an 'A' in Potions, and having in-depth knowledge of Potions is
sort of necessary for Aurors," he explained after seeing the confused look on Harry's face over Hermione's
shoulder (who was still clinging to him).
Ron was quiet for a moment before his mood seemed to pick up. "Well, at least I don't have to put up with Snape any more! Good luck with that, mate." Harry still wasn't able to speak, but at the mention of the Potions Master, he was able to get out a groan of misery. "Oh come on already, Hermione. Let him go for Merlin's sake before you suffocate him!" Ron said with an irritated voice. She pulled away from Harry with a mumbled apology and a light blush tingeing her cheeks. "Hey, Hermione," (Ron had turned his attention to Hermione's results), "how did you get eleven O.W.L.s when you were only taking ten classes last year?"
"Oh, well I had opted to take the Muggle Studies O.W.L., even though I had only been in the class for one year. I had asked the Head Examiner if I could, and she allowed me to since I had been in the class to begin with."
"Well then, why didn't you also take the Divination exam?"
"Oh, please! Like I'd bother with that rubbish?"
"No, I guess not. Hey, Harry, have you come back to the land of the living yet?" Ron asked, reaching over Hermione to poke Harry in the arm.
"Ow! Huh? What? Oh, sorry. I just still can't believe I got an 'O' in Potions," Harry thought aloud. "I think you've definitely rubbed off on me, Hermione."
"Well, Harry, it's not that hard to believe. I knew you could do it. I mean, you can't possibly discern your true potential based on Professor Snape's assessments of your work. After all, he is biased in his decisions where you're concerned," Hermione said matter-of-factly.
"True, but I still can't believe -" All the sudden, Ron burst out laughing. "What's so funny?"
"I was just imagining the look on the git's face when he finds out he's going to have to put up with you for another two years," he explained.
Harry couldn't keep from laughing along with him. "Hm, I wonder if I'd be able to talk Colin into taking a picture of Snape's reaction."
"I bet he'd make a fortune if he sold the photo." The two broke out laughing again, and even Hermione couldn't keep from smiling.
The rest of the afternoon was uneventful for the most part. Ron, Hermione, and Harry had filled out the forms that'd been with their O.W.L. results and had sent them off to Dumbledore with Hedwig (the Headmaster had left only moments before they had finished filling the forms out). Harry had ended up choosing two extra classes (Advanced Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures) on top of the other four that had been recommended. He figured that they would both be useful, and he'd have a better chance of scoring at least five 'E's when the time came for him to take his N.E.W.T.s. (He'd also wanted to take Care of Magical Creatures to show his support of Hagrid, but he hadn't told anyone that.)
At around four that afternoon, Mrs. Weasley entered the kitchen and scooted everyone out, so she could make supper which had been delightful as usual.
Despite the fact that Harry had slept in that morning, he found his energy dwindling early in the evening and decided to turn in for the night only a few hours after dinner. He was half asleep when he heard loud voices floating up from downstairs (one sounded suspiciously like Percy), but before his mind had processed that information enough to care, he had fallen into an unconscious state, moving pictures playing out on the backs of his eyelids, lost in a world known only to him.
~*~*~
A/N: It's official; I'm horrible at updating. Though, in my defence, it's not as though I purposely put my story off just to annoy my readers. No, it's because I'm always so busy! Luckily for everyone other than me, I've been sick this week and unable to focus on school, so I decided to write. Though, even if I hadn't been sick, this chapter would probably have been posted within two weeks from now, anyway; my semester ends in two weeks, so I should have lots of time to write after that!
For anyone who might be wondering, my guinea pig, Cocoa, is still alive and well except for the tumor on his back. The vet was obviously quite wrong in his assessment, and I can't help but be a little ticked off at him; even though he thought not going through with the surgery was for the best, my baby is now suffering needlessly because of it. I suppose that's part of life, though; to know pain is to know happiness; people need pain to compare happiness to, else we'd all be numb. That still doesn't make me any happier about the situation, however.
On a more pleasant note, I'd like to thank all of the people who've reviewed my story; it definitely brightens up my day when I receive a review, and I appreciate each and every one.
I'd also like to thank my wonderful beta, Nati, for all her help and patience. I love you, Nati! (In a completely platonic way, of course. Hehe.)
Okay, I'll stop sounding like I'm at an award show, now. Lol.
- Amie
Post Author's Note: If anyone would like to talk to me just e-mail me; I don't bite . . . hard (just kidding). All you have to do is click on my Pen Name and the link that will take you to where you can find my e-mail address. Also, if anyone wants to chat with me online, my AIM screen name is jeweleyes124. Sometimes, I need a little shove every now and then (okay, maybe considerably more than that) to get me to write, so don't hesitate to bug me if you think it might help me write faster.