Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and most of the settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read.

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Chapter 12: Results

Harry was waiting in front of the convenience store on Magnolia Crescent at 8.55 Monday morning. Harry had such a torrid time of it yesterday being under the perpetual gaze of Snape that he was glad to get away from Number 11 Privet Drive, even if it was just a few hours.

After 10 minutes of waiting Harry began to feel disappointed as he was beginning to think that Mark wasn't going to show. He had been so full of anticipation this morning, anxious to hear what Mark had to talk to him about.

Just as Harry was about to leave, he saw Mark sauntering up the road.

Feeling relieved, Harry called out, "Hi, Mark."

"Hey," Mark answered diffidently. Mark was sporting several small but angry red cuts along his left check.

"What happened?" Harry asked, shocked.

"Nothing," Mark answered, "it's not important." Mark was shuffling his feet, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. In was plain to see that there was something very wrong here.

"Of course it's important." Harry insisted. Then going for the most obvious answer, Harry asked, "Was it Dudley?"

Mark shook his head, his shoulder-length red hair swaying with the movement. "No, not Dudley."

 "Who then?" Harry demanded. If there was someone beating up on Mark, Harry wanted to know about it.

"Look can we just drop it, ok?" Mark snapped.

Harry just stared at Mark for a few moments. Whatever happened to him, it was clearly painful to think about. Harry decided to let it go, for now. "Yeah, sure. What was it you wanted to talk about?"

Mark seemed a little relieved but still bit his lip and smiled nervously. "I don't really know where to start."

This was an easy one for Harry. He knew exactly where he wanted Mark to begin. "Maybe you can start by telling me what happened between you and Dudley?" Harry offered with a slight smile. This seemed to be a very idea as Mark's face suddenly lit up in a huge grin.

"Well, I was coming home from school. Dudley was with his gang as usual. They followed me and when no-one was looking Piers grabbed me so that Dudley could punch me in the stomach. It's happened before." Mark paused and looked shyly up to Harry. Harry nodded. He knew exactly what Mark was talking about, as Dudley used to use Harry as his punching bag.

Harry indicated to Mark to continue. "Well, something just happened. I kind of made Dudley fly twenty feet through the air and he landed in a pile of cow dung in the Bardon's paddock. It was pretty funny. The cow took one look at Dudley and charged. Dudley ran for it but he was too slow. The cow bucked him in the backside and he was hurled over the fence." Mark chuckled. Harry burst out laughing himself.

"I wish I was there. That would … have been … hilarious!" Harry was gasping for breath he was laughing so hard.

After they both calmed down, Mark continued. "I didn't know what happened but Dudley seemed to and he ran away." Mark paused, looking thoughtful. "Strange things have been happening to me for a while, you know? I didn't know it was magic until I got my letter."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I went through the same thing. Don't worry. You'll be able to control it in no time. Hogwarts is excellent." Harry reassured him.

Mark stared off into the distance, clearly disturbed.

Harry could sense that they were coming close to the purpose of this meeting. "What is it Mark? Why are we here?"

Mark just looked to the ground. "It's hard."

"Whatever it is, I'll help." Harry said, and he meant it.

"I hope so, but I'm not sure if you can." Mark replied.

"Try me." Harry challenged.

Mark sighed. Harry leaned forward, not wanting to miss anything. "It's my dad. He doesn't want me to go to Hogwarts."

"Why?"

"He … he hates magic." Mark stammered, looking down.

Harry sympathised, but tried very hard not to roll his eyes. He got enough of this sort of attitude from the Dursleys. "I know how that feels. The Dursleys hate magic too."

"This is different. He really hates it. He said that my grandmother went insane because of magic and if I went to Hogwarts then I'd go insane too."

"Look, I don't know what happened to your grandmother, but I promise, going to Hogwarts won't drive you insane. It's really great there." Harry insisted. 'If you discount the three-headed dogs, illegal dragons, blast-ended skrewts, fully grown giants in the forest, and evil dark lords,' Harry mentally added.

Mark was unconvinced.

"You can trust me, Mark. What is really going on, and I will do everything I can to help you."

"Well, I got my letter a few weeks back. I was really excited. Finally, there was a reason for all the things that have happened. But when dad found out, he went ballistic."

A horrible thought just occurred to Harry. "Did he give you the cuts?"

"NO!" Mark declared, firmly. "My dad's fantastic. He would never hurt me!" Harry could see Mark's anger that he would even think of something like this.

"Okay, I'm sorry, please continue." Harry tried to backtrack a little.

Mark glared angrily at Harry for a few moments and Harry was half afraid that Mark would storm off, but then he continued.

"We argued. Dad insisted that I not go to Hogwarts, but I really want to, you know?" Harry nodded. "During the argument, I accidentally exploded the glassware." Mark said shamefully. "I didn't mean to." He insisted. Harry realised the source of Mark's cut face. "Dad copped a few glass pieces as well. It was horrible. But dad at least realised that I have to go to Hogwarts to learn to control the magic. He won't let me stay there for the entire time, just until I can control it."

"He's still pretty scared. He gave me this." Mark said, handing over what seemed to be a small diary.

"It belonged to my grandmother. Dad gave it to me to read as a warning about what magic can do to people."

Harry took the diary, but he wasn't sure what to do with it. "Are you sure you want me to read this? It seems too personal."

"Yes. I need to know what is going on, what happened to her. This is the only clue I have. I don't know anyone else who can help."

"I'm not really sure what I can do."

Mark looked desolate. "Okay, sorry for bothering you." And Mark started to walk off.

Harry grabbed Mark by the arm, and Mark cried out in pain.

"Sorry," Harry said.

"It's ok, just another cut." Mark consoled, rubbing his injured arm.

"Sorry," Harry repeated. "Like I said, I'm not sure what I can do, but I'll try. I've got a couple of friends at Hogwarts. Ron, Hermione and I have been through a lot together. And Hermione is the most brilliant witch at Hogwarts. Maybe between the three of us we can work out what happened to your grandmother."

That cheered Mark up a little. "Thanks."

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After enduring one of the worst summers he has ever had, this was the day that will tell if it was all worth it. Pass or fail, it was all over. Harry was sitting in his room at Number 11 Privet Drive, doing some last minute cramming. Harry felt confident that he was more competent in potions than what he was a few months ago when he sat his owls, but whether he was good enough to achieve an 'O' grade was yet to be seen.

At precisely 8.55 am, Snape stepped into his room. "Time for your test, Mr Potter," and he promptly swept out again.

Harry followed, thinking of his notes over and over in his mind. He had never wanted anything so badly in his life.

Snape led Harry into the large dining room, where he had Harry's test sheet out ready.

"Three hours, Mr Potter." Snape said and sat down at a small table that he had set up as a desk on the right side of the room.

Harry walked over to the dining table and sat down on the chair in front of his test sheet. He started to read through the questions for the theoretical portion of his test. The first thing he noticed is that many of the questions were different from the owl test, and not for the better. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Snape had seen Harry's owl test, and deliberately removed all of the questions that Harry was able to answer well.

Still, the questions weren't that bad and felt that he could answer with greater understanding than he did last time. Harry grabbed a quill, dipped it in the ink, and started writing.

Two and a half hours later, Harry had finished the test, reread and corrected some mistakes, and was currently rechecking his answers for the third time. He really wanted to do well. He knew a couple of his answers were weak, but he did as well has he could, and felt he had produced a strong test overall.

"Professor Snape. I'm finished." Harry said, satisfied with his answers.

Snape was clearly surprised that Harry was able to finish early. He rose and walked toward Harry. He picked up Harry's test by the corner, using only his thumb and forefinger, as if it was a disgusting piece of trash.

"Very well, Mr Potter, you can begin the practical part of the examination, while I correct this." And Snape walked over to his desk, and started marking.

The potion he had to make was a clarifying draught, and it was more difficult to make than the potion from his owl. This time, Snape had left him the instructions. Harry didn't stop to wonder why Snape left the instructions but simply thanked Merlin that he did. Harry gathered all the ingredients and started chopping.

One hour later, Harry knew that he had followed the instructions to the letter, yet the potion wasn't the colour or texture it was supposed to be. He checked and double checked the instructions. Harry could not work out what went wrong. As much as he hated doing this, he had to admit to Snape what had happened.

"Sir?" Harry started.

Snape, having finished marking Harry's theoretical exam, got up to see how Harry was doing with his potion. He took one look at the potion and smirked.

"Well, well, this won't do at all." Snape said. "Were anyone to drink this concoction, they would be instantly poisoned."

"I'm sorry sir, I don't know what happened. I can try again." Harry hoped, but not believing for a second that Snape would give him a second chance. Dread started to well up in the pit of his stomach.

"That won't be necessary, Mr Potter. Did you follow the instructions?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well that was your problem, Potter."

Harry's head snapped in Snape's direction. "What!? You gave me the wrong instructions?" He was starting to get angry.

"Mr Potter, calm yourself," Snape said, and if Harry didn't know any better, he'd say Snape was smiling. He was clearly enjoying this.

"Had you studied the material properly, you would have realised that the instructions was missing a crucial step. This is owls, Potter, not a first year exam. You are expected to think about what you are doing."

"So you're going to fail me?"

 "As much pleasure as doing so would give me, no I am not. If I don't grade you properly, the headmaster will grade you for me."

"And you'll miss out on teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts." Harry accused.

Snape glared at Harry for awhile before admitting, "Yes."

Snape began working out Harry's grade. Although feeling some hope since Snape had to grade fairly, that crucial mistake he made could very well have cost him his chances of becoming an Auror.

Unfortunately, this proved to be true.

Snape looked up at Harry with the most pleasant look Harry had ever seen on his sallow face. Harry's heart dropped. "Mr Potter, it is my pleasure to inform you that you have received an 'E'."

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R&R