Disclaimer: mmbleh. I don't own Harry Potter, so lay off. Hhmph!

A/N: Changed a few things from when I first posted. Enjoy.

Chapter 13-O.W.L.'s and Such

Harry had a restless night's sleep following his conversation with his headmaster. He repeatedly dreamt of the night of his sixteenth birthday, only at the end he was either struck by lightening or he burst into flames. Every time this would happen he would awake suddenly, groan, and roll over to go back to sleep. Needless to say, when morning came he walked into the kitchen groggy and tired. He was quickly distracted and didn't spare a thought to the past week's events due to the arrival of a certain letter.

"Harry dear, you look like you've been hit by a train, are you alright?" Mrs. Weasley was seated at the table with Ginny when Harry came in.

"I'm fine, just a bit tired is all."

She eyed him suspiciously, but decided to take his word for it. "There's breakfast on the stove, Dobby made up some pancakes. Oh, and your Hogwarts letter arrived earlier this morning."

Harry's attention perked when he heard this. "Where?" Mrs. Weasley pointed to the counter, and Harry hurried over to grab it. He hadn't forgotten about his owl results, and he was expecting them much earlier. He held the letter in his hand for a moment, afraid to open it. What if I did horrible? What if I didn't pass potions? What if I can't become an Auror? No longer able to handle the anticipation, he tore open the letter and read quickly.

"What's the matter, Harry, dear?" Mrs. Weasley was looking at Harry concernedly again, and for good reason. Harry was staring at his letter like it was an appointment for death. "Harry, are you okay?"

"I-this can't-these scores can't be mine." Mrs. Weasley got up from the table and walked towards Harry.

"Of course they are. Look, there's your name, right on top there."

"But-"

"I'm quite sure they are your scores. And I don't see what you're complaining about, those scores are quite acceptable."

She was right. Harry was just having trouble believing them. He looked back at the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Enclosed are your results from your Ordinary Wizarding Levels (O.W.L.'s) and the recommended courses for your intended career.

Credits for results are as follows:

A, E, and O: pass-one O.W.L.

T, D, P: fail-zero O.W.L.

Your results:

Charms Theory: E

Charms Practical: O

Cumulative: O

DADA Theory: O

DADA Practical: O

Cumulative: O

Potions Theory: O

Potions Practical: E

Cumulative: O

Care of Magical Creatures Theory: O

Care of Magical Creatures Practical: O

Cumulative: O

Transfiguration Theory: E

Transfiguration Practical: E

Cumulative: E

Divination Theory: A

Divination Practical: P

Cumulative: P

History of Magic: D

Astronomy: A

Total O.W.L.'s: 12

Admittance to N.E.W.T. level classes is granted based on the cumulative grades and by the Professor's preferred achieved grade.

Recommended N.E.W.T. Preparatory Courses for Auror:

Charms

Defense Against the Dark Arts

Potions

Transfiguration

Healing

Please note that you will be required to take several elective courses in order to fulfill your graduation requirements. The above courses are only the core classes required for Auror training.

I look forward to seeing you in the upcoming year.

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry read over his letter several more times, double and triple checking the name on the top, until he was able to believe it. How did I manage 12 O.W.L.'s? And an A in Divination I don't even want to know how I managed that.

He was interrupted by Ron coming into the kitchen, his usual morning self.

"Wha'sferbrehfast," he said, looking around through sticky eyes.

"Oh, good morning, Ron. There're pancakes on the stove."

"Thanesmum."

Five minutes later, after Ron had had sufficient time to wake up, and in between bites of pancake, he looked up to see Harry still staring at his Hogwarts letter. "Is that the

Hogwarts letter? Where's mine?"

"On the counter," he said distractedly.

Ron picked up his letter and opened it. "Oh, yeah, O.W.L. results. I forgot about those." He unfolded his report and nodded. "Not bad, I got 9 O.W.L.'s." Mrs. Weasley interrupted him with a delighted squeal.

"Oh, Ron, I'm so proud of you! 9 O.W.L.'s, that's excellent, I can hardly believe it!"

After he finished blushing, he continued, "Mostly E's and A's, only I got an O in Defense and Charms and a D in Divination. To be honest, I didn't think I would do that well in Divination." He looked over to Harry and asked, "How'd you do, mate?"

Harry shook himself out of his day dream. "Uh I got-I got-" Ron grabbed the parchment out of his hand before he could finish. "Hey, give that back," he said, desperate.

Ron was looking at the letter the same way Harry was at first. "Harry, these scores are brilliant. Twelve O.W.L.'s! Wait a second. This can't be right. How did you manage an A in Divination?"

"What, you think I cheated?" Harry burst, suddenly angry and offended.

"You know I didn't mean it like that, mate. I was thinking about how much we cheated on our homework. Come on, how could anyone manage that good of a score with our study habits in that class?"

Harry thought about what Ron said, and decided he was right. This brought on a whole new wave of emotions. A stray quote crept into his head. "I swear I will do everything possible so that you will become an auror." He identified it as what Professor McGonagall said to him during the career conference during fifth year. A crazy idea popped into his mind. What if the scores were fixed? He voiced his opinion to Ron.

"That's crazy! Why would anyone do that?" Then Harry told him what McGonagall said. "She would never do that, Harry. You earned your scores." However, he sounded somewhat skeptical this time.

Hermione chose this time to enter. "Scores? You mean our O.W.L. results are in? It's about time, I've been waiting all summer for those things." She picked up her letter and squealed in delight. She did not, however, tell her scores. After 30 seconds of looking like she was about to burst, Ron decided to put her out of her misery.

"If you want to know our scores, why don't you just ask? I got 9 O.W.L.'s."

"Wow, 9 O.W.L.'s Ron? That's wonderful!"

There was a long pause. "And you got..." Ron started for her.

"Well, I got 16-"

"Sixteen O.W.L.'s? Is that even possible?" Ron was looking at her like she was crazy.

"Of course it is. I took 9 classes, Ron, I could've had 18 O.W.L.'s. Oooh, I'm so angry that I only managed an E in Astronomy. If that rotten Umbridge hadn't interrupted our exam I would've managed a better score!"

"Hermione-16 O.W.L.'s. That's probably more than anybody has ever managed. Why are you complaining about an E?"

"Oh, hush, Ron." She turned to Harry. "How did you do, Harry?"

"He got 12 bloody O.W.L.'s."

"Thank you, Ron, but I believe I asked Harry how he did." Averting her attention back to Harry, she said, "Is he right?" Harry nodded. "Oh, that's wonderful, Harry! I can't believe it! Well, of course I can believe it, but, anyways, that's incredible! Congratulations!"

"Er-thanks, Hermione."

"You all did wonderfully, I'm so proud of all of you." Mrs. Weasley proceeded to pull the trio into a group hug, and afterwards she said, "We'll plan on going into Diagon Alley the day before term starts. Albus wanted a guard to accompany us, and that's the only day he could assemble one." The three nodded to show their understanding.


The rest of the summer holidays passed in a blur. Harry spent much of his time gathering his things for school; it was taking much longer than he had expected, because it turned out that his belongings had been spread throughout the house, and it was more than difficult to find them all. The rest of his time was spent either in his room, thinking about his new situation and what it meant, with Dumbledore in the study practicing Occlumency, or in the Serpent's Lounge browsing the shelves. Unfortunately, there were no books on beauvols or the charm that Dumbledore performed.

Harry had been making sufficient progress in his Occlumency. Ever since his birthday, the block he had seemed to have formed in regards to occlumency success apparently vanished, and it made for smoother sailing in his lessons.

One afternoon, about two weeks after his epiphany about his new build, Dumbledore made a motion that indicated that he wanted Harry to stay a moment longer after the lesson.

"I would like to talk to you about your newly acquired appearance, Harry." He had been unusually blunt these days, and the more frequent phrase associated with him (at least to Harry) was, 'always straight to the subject, that one.' "As you know, you are nearly a foot taller than you were at the end of last term. While some of it can be explained by a rather sudden growth spurt, I think it best that we not startle the general public with the new you." At least, not yet. He waited for indication that Harry was following him.

Continuing, he said, "I think you would agree that it would be best if you were to change back, for the time being."

Harry looked at him incredulously. "It's not like I have any control over how I look. I can't just change back."

"Of course you can, Harry." His twinkling eyes were set to 'annoyingly coy,' and the effect was not lost on Harry. Dumbledore decided to answer Harry's unasked, yet obvious, question. "There is a type of Transfiguration, Harry, that can change your appearance. It among the most advanced Transfiguration that can be learned; a kind of replacement for those of us without the unique Metamorphmagus abilities, you see. It is well beyond O.W.L. level, even more difficult than most N.E.W.T. level spells taught at Hogwarts. However, I have confidence that you can and will learn this spell, Harry." He peered at his pupil over the top of his half-moon spectacles, wearing a look that said, 'or else.'

Harry nodded. The headmaster went on to teach the spell to Harry, and performed it once on himself; he charmed himself to be three feet tall, and Harry was only able to restrain his laughter because of the little respect he still held for the headmaster.

"Yes, I imagine I look quite like the common muggle garden gnome,' Dumbledore said after he reverted back to his regular height.


August 31 dawned hot and muggy. The clouds were threatening heavy rain, and the humidity was stifling. 12 Grimmuald Place was bustling with rushing people. Mrs. Weasley was trying to get everybody organized and ready to leave, but was having little success.

"Ginny, go get the floo powder," she said to her daughter, who was presently trying to eat a quick breakfast of jellied toast. "Ron! Hurry up and get ready, I can't believe you're not dressed yet!" Ron, as usual, was leaning on the doorway, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Mum, I've just woken up, give me an hour or so."

"AN HOUR? RON, WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOU! Just go get ready, we're leaving in 10 minutes."

Harry watched this comical scene from his seat at the kitchen table. He was adorned with his old height, having learned the Appearance Spell in a grueling three days and much hard work. He was ready to go and was enjoying the busy show in front of him.

"What are you laughing at, mate? You could've at least woken me up," Ron said scathingly.

"Oh, no, I've heard the stories about people waking you up from Ginny. I'd rather not risk it." Ron just glared.

"Where's Hermione, anyways? Is she still sleeping? I thought I was the late sleeper, she is always up well before I am."

"I don't know where she is. Probably in the Serpent's Lounge. She spends more time in there than humanly possible," Harry commented.

"Oh, but you forget, Hermione isn't a human, she's a walking dictionary."

"I am not Ron!" Hermione arrived, proving Murphy's Law splendidly. She hit him playfully with the copy of the Prophet she was carrying. "Just because I enjoy reading..."

"You don't enjoy reading, Hermione, you worship it. Reading is a religion for you."

"No it's not, Ron, just because I..."

Harry averted his attention elsewhere, keen to stay out of yet another pointless argument between his best friends. Twenty minutes later, he found himself, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Moody, Tonks, Lupin, Mundungus Fletcher, and Kingsly Shackelbolt gathered around the fireplace in the kitchen.

Mr. Weasley was giving the group instructions. "Okay, so Kingsly and I will go first to wait for the rest of you. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny will be followed by Harry, then Molly and the rest of the guard. Understand?" They all nodded. "Right." He took a pinch of floo powder, and, stepping into the flames, said, "Diagon Alley!" The rest of the group followed as instructed and arrived in the Leaky Cauldron full of ash, but safe.

A/N: As always, please REVIEW!