O.W.L. Trouble
It was another long day at the Dursley's. Harry Potter sat outside Number 4 Privet Drive and watched the sweat roll down his arms. He could hear his cousin Dudley punching the new punching bag his father, Vernon Dursley, had given him for Christmas. He had lovingly set it up in the garage. Harry knew it was to intimidate him and to scare him away from Aunt Petunia's precious Diddykins. Ever since the dementor attack of the previous summer, Harry's aunt and uncle had become more determined to keep Harry out of the house. And Harry happily obliged. On that particular day, he was waiting for the results of his O.W.L.s with great anticipation. After much arguing and fighting and threatening, Harry was finally able to let his owl roam at nights; so he knew that Ron and Hermione, his two friends at Hogwarts, were both as nervous as he was.
Harry had attacked his homework from school the minute that he returned to Surrey and, as a result, he had finished it all a month before he usually started on it. He wanted to drown out the memory of his godfather Sirrus falling into the archway and not reappearing on the other side. Lupin and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix (excluding Snape) had sent him wonderful gifts to make his stay at the Dursley's more tolerable, but nothing could seem to fill the hole in his soul that Sirrus occupied. His friends were worried about him, but he couldn't see why. They hadn't lost their godfathers. But, as Hermione kept reminding him, Harry was not the only one mourning Sirrus' death. Lupin's letters to Harry were very short and abrupt. It was as if Lupin couldn't talk to Harry because the memory was too painful.
Harry was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the brown form soar above him in the bright blue, summer sky until in landed in his lap.
"Oh! Hullo," he said softly to the official-looking owl. The owl had a rather large envelope in his beak and seemed relieved when Harry took his burden. With a flutter of heavy wings, the owl left, leaving Harry shaking in anticipation. A month ago, nothing seemed to matter except Sirrus' death, but now, with the test results in hand, Harry couldn't think of anything other than the results. Carefully, he opened the envelope and pulled out three sheets of paper. The first was a letter from the Ministry.
Dear Mr. Potter,
Enclosed are the results from your O.W.L exams this past spring. We have also provided a list of careers that would be useful with the number and kinds of O.W.L.s that you received. We wish you luck at your next year of school.
Sincerely, Joclyn Hapsgrum
Harry put the letter back in the envelope. He also stuck the other two papers in there as well. He didn't want Dudley to come out of the garage and take them. Best to take them into the house, where he wouldn't be disturbed. He passed his Aunt Petunia in the kitchen who just ignored him like usual. Ever since she had saved him from being kicked out of the Dursley's house, she had ignored his very presence. Every trace of him was swept, vacuumed and mopped from the household with even more vigor than before.
Harry retreated into his bedroom and flopped down on the bed, looking at his papers. He was hoping that he did well on the O.W.L.s for one simple reason. He needed top grades to be an Auror. But even now, sitting with the grades in his hand, he knew that he only said that he wanted to be that because it was what he wanted ever since he found out the truth about his parents. But in that instant when Sirrus fell through the archway, Harry felt that it wasn't his place to fight Voldemort only to be killed by a Death Eater.
With the thought of his future in mind, Harry opened the envelope again and took out his grades. His hands shaking, he held the paper in front of him.
Astronomy---------------------P Care of Magical Creatures--EE Charms------------------------EE Defense Against the Dark Arts- O Divination---------------------D Herbology---------------------EE History of Magic-------------A Potions-------------------------P Transfiguration---------------EE
Harry stood transfixed on the second to last grade. A "Poor" in Potions? Harry could have sworn that he did well on that exam. Without an "O" in Snape's class, Harry would not be taking Potions the next year. But he had managed six O.W.L.s altogether. When he chose another career, those would come in handy. Still, Harry was disappointed that he wouldn't be directly fighting Voldemort, but there was also a happy voice in his mind that told him that he was rid of Snape's horrid class forever.
It was another long day at the Dursley's. Harry Potter sat outside Number 4 Privet Drive and watched the sweat roll down his arms. He could hear his cousin Dudley punching the new punching bag his father, Vernon Dursley, had given him for Christmas. He had lovingly set it up in the garage. Harry knew it was to intimidate him and to scare him away from Aunt Petunia's precious Diddykins. Ever since the dementor attack of the previous summer, Harry's aunt and uncle had become more determined to keep Harry out of the house. And Harry happily obliged. On that particular day, he was waiting for the results of his O.W.L.s with great anticipation. After much arguing and fighting and threatening, Harry was finally able to let his owl roam at nights; so he knew that Ron and Hermione, his two friends at Hogwarts, were both as nervous as he was.
Harry had attacked his homework from school the minute that he returned to Surrey and, as a result, he had finished it all a month before he usually started on it. He wanted to drown out the memory of his godfather Sirrus falling into the archway and not reappearing on the other side. Lupin and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix (excluding Snape) had sent him wonderful gifts to make his stay at the Dursley's more tolerable, but nothing could seem to fill the hole in his soul that Sirrus occupied. His friends were worried about him, but he couldn't see why. They hadn't lost their godfathers. But, as Hermione kept reminding him, Harry was not the only one mourning Sirrus' death. Lupin's letters to Harry were very short and abrupt. It was as if Lupin couldn't talk to Harry because the memory was too painful.
Harry was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the brown form soar above him in the bright blue, summer sky until in landed in his lap.
"Oh! Hullo," he said softly to the official-looking owl. The owl had a rather large envelope in his beak and seemed relieved when Harry took his burden. With a flutter of heavy wings, the owl left, leaving Harry shaking in anticipation. A month ago, nothing seemed to matter except Sirrus' death, but now, with the test results in hand, Harry couldn't think of anything other than the results. Carefully, he opened the envelope and pulled out three sheets of paper. The first was a letter from the Ministry.
Dear Mr. Potter,
Enclosed are the results from your O.W.L exams this past spring. We have also provided a list of careers that would be useful with the number and kinds of O.W.L.s that you received. We wish you luck at your next year of school.
Sincerely, Joclyn Hapsgrum
Harry put the letter back in the envelope. He also stuck the other two papers in there as well. He didn't want Dudley to come out of the garage and take them. Best to take them into the house, where he wouldn't be disturbed. He passed his Aunt Petunia in the kitchen who just ignored him like usual. Ever since she had saved him from being kicked out of the Dursley's house, she had ignored his very presence. Every trace of him was swept, vacuumed and mopped from the household with even more vigor than before.
Harry retreated into his bedroom and flopped down on the bed, looking at his papers. He was hoping that he did well on the O.W.L.s for one simple reason. He needed top grades to be an Auror. But even now, sitting with the grades in his hand, he knew that he only said that he wanted to be that because it was what he wanted ever since he found out the truth about his parents. But in that instant when Sirrus fell through the archway, Harry felt that it wasn't his place to fight Voldemort only to be killed by a Death Eater.
With the thought of his future in mind, Harry opened the envelope again and took out his grades. His hands shaking, he held the paper in front of him.
Astronomy---------------------P Care of Magical Creatures--EE Charms------------------------EE Defense Against the Dark Arts- O Divination---------------------D Herbology---------------------EE History of Magic-------------A Potions-------------------------P Transfiguration---------------EE
Harry stood transfixed on the second to last grade. A "Poor" in Potions? Harry could have sworn that he did well on that exam. Without an "O" in Snape's class, Harry would not be taking Potions the next year. But he had managed six O.W.L.s altogether. When he chose another career, those would come in handy. Still, Harry was disappointed that he wouldn't be directly fighting Voldemort, but there was also a happy voice in his mind that told him that he was rid of Snape's horrid class forever.