Harry looked up, startled, at Hermione’s words. She looked desperately worried and was almost whispering, both she and Ron leaning in close towards him. Ron’s expression was uncharacteristically sober: he looked just as worried as Hermione. They were sitting in the front room of the Burrow, where Harry and Ron had ostensibly been playing Chess with Hermione watching. Between them, unnoticed, a few of the pawns had sat down and seemed to be gossiping cheerfully, much to the disapproval of the larger pieces.
“What do you mean?” Harry instantly went on the defensive. He knew what was wrong, and he also knew ho couldn’t tell anyone: he had been trying very hard not to show his feelings, but he should have guessed that Hermione and Ron knew him far too well for that. He had been feeling pretty miserable since Luna’s letter had arrived a few days ago, despite the fact that the letter itself had been very comforting, because of what he had discovered about his feelings. He had tried to have a good time. Apparently he had failed.
“Mate, you’ve been downright gloomy since you got here… and you told us you had decided not to be.” Ron sounded concerned, and slightly frustrated. Harry lowered his eyes, unwilling to see the disappointment and sadness on the faces of his best friends. Ron cleared his throat slightly. “This is about Sirius, isn’t it?”
For a moment, Harry stared at them. Both were looking almost scared, and he realised that they thought he was going to react badly to that. On the other hand, and much as he didn’t want to cheapen Sirius’ death, there was no way he could tell them what was really wrong. “Well… mostly, I guess.” He shook his head. “I miss him so much…”
Hermione lent across and put her arms around him, holding him tightly, while Ron laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. Harry sat there, feeling awful for the half-lie he had told, but also very comforted by the closeness. He put one arm round Hermione and gave her a brief squeeze before pulling away and smiling weakly.
“I’ll be ok, really I will. I’m getting there. And I’m sorry to make you worry about me, when I said we should be having fun.” He looked down at the board, and realised with a start just how distracted Ron must have been. He nudged a rook into position and murmured softly, “Checkmate.”
Ron looked down, gazed at the board with disbelief, then let out a bark of laughter that caused Hermione and Harry to grin broadly. They were still laughing when there was a loud tapping noise at the window. Harry turned and saw a beautiful barn owl he didn’t recognise perched on the windowsill, waiting patiently to be let in. He opened the window and the owl fluttered inside, landing lightly on his shoulder and sticking out her leg, to which were attached three letters bearing the official Hogwarts seal. Harry took them very nervously, and silently handed Ron and Hermione their letters as the owl took flight. Both the others were rigid with anxiety. They all knew far too well just what these were. These were their O.W.L. results.
Harry gulped. All three of them were standing and holding the letters as though they might explode. Harry suddenly realised he didn’t really want to do this with them. “I’m going outside,” he muttered, and strode quickly to the front door and out into the beautiful summer day. He walked briskly to the edge of the small copse that stood a little way back from the Burrow, the sleeves of his loose t-shirt flapping in the breeze that soothed the heat of the day, and sat down with his back against a large tree trunk. Before he could think much and worry himself further, he slit open the envelope and read the letter.
Dear Mr Potter,
Following are the results of the Ordinary Wizarding Levels that you undertook in June.
Astronomy: A Care of Magical Creatures: O Charms: O Defence Against the Dark Arts: O (Special Commendation) Divination: A Herbology: E History of Magic: A Potions: E Transfiguration: O
Congratulations for achieving your targets for these important qualifications. Next year your subjects will be: Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions and Transfiguration. Your regular message containing information on the start of term, as well as equipment and books for your studies, will be with you in a few weeks.
Professor M McGonagall?, deputy Headmistress Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
P.S. Very well done indeed, Mr Potter. I feel I should tell you that I am personally very proud of your achievements. Your special commendation in Defence Against the Dark Arts is with reference to the fact that you achieved the highest score in the year for the entire country, but I think I can safely tell you that all the members of your Defence Association who took the exam also achieved an Outstanding grade. Those who did not participate could only achieve Average grade or lower, since they were unable to study the practical side. You were obviously a superb teacher. Professor Dumbledore, Myself and the other teachers are immensely proud. Enjoy the rest of your holidays. MM
Harry put down the letter, stunned disbelief in every line of his face. Then he picked it up and read it again, wanting to make sure that he had got it right. Then he put it down again. It was only after a few minutes shocked silence that he realised someone was sitting next to him, watching him closely from behind a curtain of bright red hair. Ginny. He felt his insides lurch at the thought of her sitting so close, but he turned to her, wanting to tell her how he had done but unable to speak.
“Can I see?” She spoke very softly, almost tentatively, and Harry’s insides lurched again. It was a very different voice form the one she had been using towards him since he had arrived, which had a cheerful, friendly indifference to it that made Harry feel sick. He nodded and handed her the parchment. She read it through, her expression not changing, and when she finished she put it down and looked at Harry. He couldn’t read her at all. What was she thinking? She suddenly reached out and hugged him to her, her head buried in his shoulder, and he was surprised to feel tears making his shirt damp. In the past, he realised, he would have found this embarrassing and uncomfortable. Now he reacted to some instinct, with no thought involved, holding her close and letting her cry, rocking her gently. After a while she let go of him, and he reluctantly let her move away, ending the happy torture he had endured, knowing that the hug had meant far less to her than it had to him, and that it would never mean anything more. Her eyes were rather red and her cheeks slightly blotchy from the tears, and her lips quivered as she smiled weakly at him. All Harry could think of at that moment was how unbearably, adorably beautiful she was.
“Oh, I’m sorry Harry.” Her voice shook and she sniffed and shook her head briskly, making her hair flutter out in all directions and causing another pang in Harry’s heart. “I didn’t mean to go to pieces like that, I’m just so happy for you. And proud. You’ll be able to do Auror training and everything and… oh, well done.”
Harry’s voice came back, although apparently it had been treated with sandpaper in its absence. “Thanks. Erm…” He thought desperately for a change of topic. In all honesty, this closeness to Ginny was killing him. He had to get away. “Erm… the others got theirs as well, we should go and see how they did.”
“Ok, let’s go.” They got up and walked in silence. Harry didn’t know what to think, his mind was utterly blank, although something odd struck him. He frowned, but was distracted a moment later when he and Ginny walked into the front room of the Burrow to see Ron and Hermione, both clearly ecstatic over their grades, furiously hugging and kissing each other. Harry stood on the threshold looking rather shocked, while Ginny grinned mischievously. Eventually Harry decided to alert them to the fact that they were not alone, and cleared his throat significantly. Ron and Hermione leapt apart, both flushing deep crimson, and Ginny burst out laughing, collapsing on an armchair and clutching her sides. Hermione leapt at Harry.
“Harry! How did you do?” The question was genuine, although Harry felt sure it was partly to distract him from what he had just witnessed. He grinned and handed his parchment to her. Her eyes went wide as she read it, before thrusting it at Ron and pulling Harry into a bone-breaking hug. While Hermione performed a very good imitation of a Boa Constrictor, Harry watched over her shoulder while Ron grinned and put the letter aside. Eventually Hermione let him go, her face radiant with excitement as he bent over double, trying to get some air back into his lungs. Ron clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Well done, mate, really. That’s so great, we’re doing the same classes! And… McGonagall? wrote that?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think she was capable of some of those words.” Hermione glared at him, but he grinned impishly and her expression dissolved into smiles again. Harry noticed Hermione’s parchment and grabbed it. She moved to get it back, but he held her off with one arm and held the letter high over his head to read it. Unsurprisingly, Hermione had got Os in every single subject she had taken, which had been least two more than Harry or Ron. There were also a fair number of ‘Special Commendations’ like his own: she had got the highest marks in the country for Transfiguration, Charms and Potions. In a sudden gesture he chucked the letter at Ginny who was laughing at their antics and then hugged Hermione again, which served the double purpose of congratulating her and stopping her from getting at Ginny. Or, in fact, scratching his eyes out. He didn’t hug her for long though, mostly because Ron wanted to take over.
Harry sank down onto the sofa, watching Hermione pretend to struggle out of Ron’s embrace, and glanced down Ron’s results. They were pretty much the same as his own, except that he had got an ‘E’ in Charms, and there was, of course, no Special Commendation for him for Defence Against the Dark Arts. He looked at the bottom, and saw that Ron was, indeed, taking the same classes next year as he was himself. He frowned for a moment, catching sight of the Potions mark.
“Hey… Ron, why do you think we got into the Potions class for next year? I thought Snape only accepted people who got ‘O’s in his NEWT class.”
Ron released Hermione and they both collapsed, breathing hard but laughing, on to the sofa next to him. Ron shrugged. “At a guess, he realised he’d prefer to make our lives hell than just not have to teach us at all.” Harry snorted: he doubted that, somehow, remembering how Snape had said last year how thrilled he would be to say good bye to some of his students. Hermione frowned slightly.
“Either that, or someone told him to accept us. In your case, Harry, I suppose it could have been so he’d have an excuse to go on teaching you Occlumency.” Harry grimaced, remembering how Malfoy had reacted when Snape had told him he was giving Harry remedial Potions lessons. Hermione smiled again. “Either way, I’m glad he did. I don’t think any of the rest of the Gryffindors in our year even wanted to do Potions, and I wouldn’t want to be doing it alone with the Slytherins.” She shuddered at the thought and, in an unusual display of public affection, nestled closer into Ron’s side. Ron looked surprised, but really quite pleased, and put his arm around her. Harry tried not to show how that was affecting him, and tried equally hard not to look at Ginny.
He would have liked nothing better than to curl up with her like that, but that was an impossibility. And he didn’t want to lose what he did have with her, which was a strong friendship. He valued her too much to risk that; especially after all she had done for him last year. His thoughts flew back to that dark evening at the Department of Mysteries, when she had been injured while trying to escape from the Death Eaters, and further back, to the DA meetings, where she had been so calm and sensible all the time, able to diffuse tension between members with a word, and then to the time when she had told him what it was like to be possessed by Voldemort. He still wondered about that. It had been brave of her to tell him; he didn’t think she’d told anyone quite what she had experienced at that time, but she had faced up to it for his sake. No, there was no way he could lose her friendship. So he forced himself to look away, out of the window, and to think of other things.
Fortunately, at that moment they all heard footsteps on the stairs, and Mrs Weasly’s voice drifted down the stairs. “Did I hear some post arrive?”
Harry had a sudden idea. He caught everyone’s eye and, when he was certain he had their full attention, put on a deliberately glum expression. Ginny’s eyes twinkled, and Ron and Hermione looked excited, but they all schooled their expressions as Mrs Weasly came in. She looked around at them, her bright expression fading as she surveyed three miserable and one gloomily sympathetic face.
“Did… did you get the results, dears?” Her voice sounded almost fearful as she looked at everyone. Harry and Hermione looked away, as though unwilling to burden her with their failure. Ron stood up, strode over to his mother and put his arms around her. She looked startled and very worried, but hugged him back. “Ron, what’s… what’s the matter?”
“I’m sorry, Mum.” Harry nearly burst with laughter, but still gazed soulfully out of the window. Ron had made his voice very soft and almost hoarse, as though he was trying not to cry.
“Oh… oh Ron! Mrs Weasly hugged him to her in a comforting way, and murmured, “How many, dear?”
Ron was now visibly shaking with suppressed laughter, but Mrs Weasly apparently took it for sobbing. “Only… only nine, Mum.”
Mrs Weasly stood back, her face a neutral mask as she surveyed her very tall but rather nervous-looking son. Then she casually drew her wand and said, “Petrificus totalus.” Ron immediately snapped rigid under the full body-bind curse, and Mrs Weasly lazily waved her wand and levitated him to the ceiling where he drifted round in circles, eyes dancing with merriment. The other three were howling with laughter. “All four of you are very wicked. I should do the same to all of you.” Her voice was very calm, but she was obvious she was pleased. Harry waved his hands.
“We’re… we’re sorry, Mrs Weasly,” Harry managed to force out. “We… we all did… fairly well. Look, here’s Ron’s letter,” and he scooped up the parchment and handed it to her. She looked stern, but her eyes were dancing with merriment as she took it, and they widened much as Hermione’s had when she read what was written.
“Oh… Ronnie, this is wonderful!” She waved her wand at him without really paying attention, meaning to let him down. The body-bind curse lifted and he drifted lower, but the levitation charm wore off slightly too soon, and he fell to the floor from a height of about four feet.
“Ow,” he said, dazedly.” Hermione looked a little concerned, but he sat up and rubbed his legs down a bit. “I guess I deserved that,” he said with a rueful grin. He sat back down next to Hermione again and she instantly nestled into his side. Harry noticed Mrs Weasly’s small smile, even though she wasn’t looking directly at them. Instead, she looked at Harry.
“And how about you, Harry dear?”
Harry paused for just a moment. Even though Ron had done really very well, both he and Hermione had done better and for some reason he felt that the focus should be on Ron, at least for today. “Oh, pretty much the same as Ron,” he said brightly, but giving Hermione a meaningful look. She must either have had the same idea or understood his look, because, when Mrs Weasly looked at her, she just said, “I did pretty well.” Ginny very nearly burst out laughing at this, but when her mother had left the room she looked straight at Harry with a strange but certainly not unpleasant look on her face, something like approval. He smiled weakly at her, then asked if Ron wanted another game of chess.
There was something of a party at the Burrow that night, partly to celebrate the OWL results but also because many of the members of the Order of the Phoenix were having a night off, so Mrs Weasly had arranged a large, buffet style dinner in the garden. By half past seven nearly everyone was there. Fred and George had arrived, with Angelina Johnson holding Fred’s hand and blushing more than Harry would have thought possible, after the year she had spent as Gryffindor team captain. George sniggered away as Fred introduced Angelina to Mrs Weasly, who seemed delighted. Charlie arrived not long afterwards, looking as cheerful as ever, and Bill and Fleur came with Mr Weasly and Percy from the ministry, where Fleur was working with Percy as a liaison between the Order and the Minister himself. There was one shocking bit of news: Cornelius Fudge had stepped down as Minister for Magic that morning, saying that he didn’t feel able to lead the Wizarding community through a time of such turmoil, so until a new Minister could be elected the Ministry was under the direction of a special council, including Mr Weasly, Mad-eye Moody and Professor Dumbledore. Other people came as well, including Mad-eye Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mundungus Fletcher, Tonks and Professor Lupin. Harry greeted everyone as cheerfully as he could, but when he got to Lupin words failed both of them. They merely shook hands, unable to vocalise what they meant to say.
Harry got drawn into a conversation with Tonks about Auror training. She looked very different tonight: her hair was bubblegum pink, which seemed to be a favourite colour of hers, but it was very long and she had changed her skin to look Oriental. She said that she had seen a Japanese cartoon while visiting her parents (Harry remembered that Tonks’ Dad was a muggle) and decided to try out the look. Hermione and Ginny, of course, both found it hilarious. Tonks grinned and turned back to Harry.
“Yeah, the training’s difficult, but everyone tries to help. It’s not as if there’s anyone deliberately trying to make you fail anything.” Harry grinned weakly. That would be a nice change, if that was what he decided to do after Hogwarts. Seven years being taught by Snape… that was something else. He wondered vaguely what could have driven him so insane as to take the NEWT Potions course, before he felt a light touch on his shoulder, and turned to see Professor Lupin looking at him. Tonks smiled and moved towards Ginny and Hermione.
“Can I have a word, Harry?” Lupin’s voice was as quiet and calm as usual, but his eyes seemed more sorrowful and tired than ever before. Harry nodded and walked with Lupin to the edge of the garden, where they could talk undisturbed.
“Harry, You have to understand something. I don’t blame you for what happened to Sirius. Not in any way. True, you may have acted unwisely, but under the circumstances no one could have expected any difference. You were manipulated and used.”
Harry blinked, and realised that there were tears pricking in the corner of his eyes. He hadn’t cried in a long time, but he felt that he might now. He hastily removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Lupin was looking at him, waiting, perhaps for an answer. Harry swallowed and took a deep breath.
“I can’t help feeling it’s my fault. I let myself be taken in, and that hurt a lot of people. But, I am trying to deal with it.” He grinned weakly up at Lupin. “I’ve even been practicing Occlumency. Professor Snape’ll be thrilled.” Lupin smiled back, and then surprised Harry by pulling him into a brief hug. Harry found he didn’t mind. Of all his friends who were present he felt that Lupin might understand him, and what he was going through, the best. Lupin rested a comforting hand on his shoulder for a moment, and then returned to the party.
Everyone seemed quite happy, all things considered. The twins had brought some of their own fireworks, and were impressing everyone with the amazing effects that had caused Professor Umbridge and Filch such enormous trouble the previous year. Remembering Fred and George’s departure, and the mayhem they had left in their wake, Harry couldn’t help grin as he chatted with Ron and Hermione about the summer, and the coming year. No one spoke about Voldemort. This wasn’t surprising, Harry supposed, but he couldn’t help wondering, in dark, silent moments, what the most evil wizard in the world was planning. After his talk with Dumbledore the previous year, Harry knew that Voldemort was aware of at least part of the prophecy that referred to him. Harry was going to have to be more careful than ever. Catching sight of Ginny, a thought struck him. Perhaps it was for the best, that she didn’t like him any more. At least it meant she hopefully wouldn’t get hurt because of him. It wasn’t a very cheerful thought, but Ginny meant more to him than his own happiness. As long as she was happy, he would cope. Realising that he had been somewhat distant with her since his arrival at the Burrow, he resolved to go and apologise to her. Just as he came up to her, though, someone else arrived at her side. Dean Thomas, who had apparently been invited as a surprise. Ginny looked very shocked when he pulled her into a hug, and Harry felt sickened. Somehow he no longer wanted to be at the party. He turned to go.
“Harry? Harry, did you want to say something?”
Ginny had pulled away from Dean, and was looking at him expectantly. Harry glanced between her beautiful face and Dean’s confused one, and shook his head.
“No, that’s alright. I need to… need to go and write to Luna.”
As he turned away, he thought he saw Ginny look oddly hurt, as though he had severely disappointed her, but he resolved to ignore it and strode from the garden and straight up to the room he shared with Ron. From here he looked down at the party, while Hedwig hooted peacefully and Pigwidgeon twittered. The moonlight and the magical illuminations all around the garden made everything appear silvery and not quite real, as if Harry was looking through some kind of film. He saw the light shining off nine heads of furiously red hair, making it shimmer like beaten copper. And he saw one of them, sitting with a boy who had always been his friend. Dean had, in many ways, been the most like Harry since the beginning of Hogwarts, since both of them had grown up completely unaware of the existence of wizards before receiving their Hogwarts letters. Of course, they hadn’t been best friends. He had had Ron, and later Hermione as well, and Dean and Seamus Finnegan had always been inseparable, but there had been a kinship between them. He remembered Dean’s awkward position last year. He had believed Harry and Dumbledore from the beginning, partly due to not being surrounded by Ministry of Magic propaganda, but Seamus had been much more doubtful. For most of the year, Dean had trodden a fine line of neutrality, for the sake of both friendships. He was a really good guy, and if he was honest Harry couldn’t think of anyone who deserved to go out with Ginny more, if she liked him. He knew he didn’t deserve her, after having pretty much ignored her for four years.
Thinking that he might as well do what he had said he would, he gathered together parchment, ink and quill and began to write. He noticed that he was becoming better at writing letters. It was a skill that had always eluded him in the past.
Dear Luna,
Thanks very much for your letter, and for replying so quickly! What you said really meant a lot to me, and I’ve been thinking about it loads.
It’s wonderful being at the Burrow with all the Weaslys. Everyone’s cheerful and busy, and I feel like I’m really free here. It’s nice to have people around who don’t flinch at the sight of you.
I’m really glad you’re ok, and that you’re Dad is proud of you, instead of angry. He sounds really nice. If you like, if I notice any magical creatures or anything I don’t recognise, I’ll owl you about them.
Hmmm, I mentioned owls, didn’t I? Yes, the three of us got our results. I won’t bore you with the entire lists for all of us. I’ll just say that all three of us passed everything, and by enough that we can take the courses we want to next year. Even Potions: Ron and I got Es in that, and we thought Snape only accepted people who got Os. I wonder why? Might be something to figure out once term starts. Come to think of it, I suppose I can tell you that Hermione got Os in every subject, like that’s any surprise. I think she was doing twelve or thirteen owls, and that makes her some kind of record breaker. Oh, and everyone in out year who was in the DA got an O for Defence Against the Dark Arts. I don’t think I had much to do with it, but it’s certainly gratifying. I hope what I taught you will be useful for your own OWLs this year. (Ha ha ha, you thought I’d forgotten, right? Bad luck.)
What else? Ginny seems pretty happy, although slightly nervous about next year. There was a party tonight, and she spent most of it with Dean. I hope you don’t mind friends talking about that all the time. I know I’m beginning to have to tune out of Ron and Hermione’s conversations a lot more now if I want to hold onto my stomach.
I’m ok. Really, I think I am getting better. Occlumency practice is still helping, and I haven’t had a nightmare in ages because of it. Also, I spoke to Professor Lupin tonight. Did I tell you that he, Sirius and my Dad were best friends at Hogwarts? I can’t remember. Anyway, Lupin told me I mustn’t blame myself. It was great hearing it from him. I suppose that he was closest to Sirius, and he would have the most reason to blame me, but he said he didn’t, and neither did anyone else. So, I’m feeling much better.
He paused, wondering why he was lying. He wasn’t ‘ok’, or feeling 'much better'. The truth was that, while Luna was an excellent confidant when it came to things like this, she only was really because they had shared a similar experience. He didn’t think that she would quite understand what he felt for Ginny, and why he was therefore miserable much of the time. It seemed better not to mention it. It was just too private; there was no one in whom he felt he could confide about this. Hermione would have been good, but he didn’t think she would understand how it felt. In normal circumstances he might have gone to Mr or Mrs Weasly, or even Bill or Charlie, but since he was madly in love with the highly treasured youngest member of the family, he wasn’t sure this was quite the right, not say safe, response.
No, he would have to deal with this himself. He raged at himself, thinking how ridiculous it was that he could get past dragons, kill basilisks, fight dementors, face Voldemort, rescue his best friend from the bottom of a lake and steel himself to eat Hagrid’s cooking, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about his current situation. Shaking his head to clear it, he quickly finished his letter.
It’s my birthday in a couple of days, the first time I haven’t spent it with the Dursleys! I don’t know what we’re going to do; I think Mrs Weasly mentioned something about going to Diagon Alley: maybe we’ll celebrate and do our shopping for Hogwarts at the same time, but I suppose that’ll still be a while away, since we haven’t got our booklists and things yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the rest of your holidays. If not before, I’ll see you on the Hogwarts Express.
Looking forward to seeing you,
Harry
It had grown very dark while Harry had been writing, and he realised that the party outside was over, with just a few people clearing up by wand-light. Cursing himself for not being there to say goodbye to people, he ran downstairs to help outside and nearly collided into Ginny.
“Oh! Er, sorry, Ginny.”
Ginny gave Harry a look that almost flawed him. It was one of utter contempt and loathing. Then she whirled around and walked up the stairs in a very dignified sort of way. Harry could only stand watching her as she moved out of sight and then, feeling sick and ill, he wandered out into the garden. No longer wanting to help the tidying effort, he avoided everyone and proceeded to the small wood where he had gone that morning to open his letter from Hogwarts. Where Ginny had spoken to him, hugged him and cried with happiness at his achievement.
What had he done? How, in a few short hours, could she have changed so much? He sat back against the same tree as earlier and merely sat, watching the moon pass between clouds. Harry didn’t think he had ever felt worse than this. Not even when Ron hadn’t been talking to him, or when everyone had believed he was the heir of Slytherin, or last year when the entire magical world thought he was a deranged lunatic.
He didn’t go back to the Burrow that night, but stayed awake, unable and unwilling to sleep, not knowing what Lord Voldemort would do to his mind in such a troubled state. Towards dawn, he got up and went to the small stream that ran through the wood a little way away, and washed the tears from his face.
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FlameRider/ChapterTwo