A week after lessons had resumed following the Easter holidays, Harry learned that he would be among the students to take end of term exams in each of his lessons.

He'd taken tests before, of course, at his primary school. So had Dudley, although his grades had always been dreadful. Harry's marks had been much better, not that his aunt or uncle praised him for it. (They didn't get angry that he outperformed Dudleykins, though, so he supposed he should be grateful for that...) Not that Harry's marks had ever been the highest in any of his lessons, but they'd always been well above passing, and sometimes, his teachers would give his test results a sticker or a smiley face if he received full marks.

The tests that he would be taking were not math or spelling or science, though. He hadn't studied much of that this year, although Harry supposed that when his dad would take him to the Astronomy tower next year to begin studying that, it would count as science. No, he was studying magic, even if he couldn't actually perform spells with a wand of his own for a couple of years. He was learning the theory that made magic possible. It was a lot of memorizing, really, and it could be difficult to remember.

So, when Severus told Harry that he would receive tests from all of his teachers a week before the end of term, he felt a mix of nerves and pride at being counted enough as a student to take the same sort of tests that Dora was studying for.

"What if I don't do very well?" Harry asked, immediately. Tremulously, even. "Will I need to redo this year?"

His dad raised his eyebrows for a second, then shook his head. "You won't. But, even if you did," he added, quickly, reassuringly. "I expect that, should that occur, your teachers would work on a revised lesson plan if there were areas you needed to improve."

"Oh."

This didn't sound too bad, but Harry still wanted to do well. To make his dad proud of him.

As though reading his mind, Severus placed a hand around Harry's shoulders, drawing him close. Harry reached out to hug him, tentatively, and found it being returned. He sighed as Severus made a few small circles over his back. Eventually, Harry let his arms drop.

"I don't want to let you down," he admitted.

"You won't," his dad reassured him, sitting on the couch, patting the space beside him. When Harry joined Severus, he put an arm around his frame. "All I ask is for you to study hard for them. But, child, I don't want you to worry yourself about them," he said softly. When Harry nodded, his guardian went on. "Like the other students, your tests are a couple of months away. You will still be learning new concepts in the meantime, as well as going over what you have already learned."

His teachers spoke similarly about these upcoming tests. Professor McGonagall, in particular, was quick to reassure Harry that her test would act more as a measurement for her teaching than anything else.

"That's not to say you ought not study beforehand!" she added, with a smile. "I do hope you will take the test seriously."

"I will, ma'am!" Harry promised.

He did, too. Now, after each lesson, there was homework to complete. It wasn't a great deal, and it usually only took a half an hour, but it helped Harry put into practice-as much as he could, without a wand-what they had studied in class. From that point on, the beginning half of each lesson focused on reviewing Harry's homework, and the second half upon learning new things.

Harry was rather glad he still had afternoons free. He reckoned that if he didn't, his mind would be almost stuffed by the end of the day. Dora spoke about this feeling often, especially during her fifth year. She reckoned it would be even worse during her NEWT year.

A month before the end of term, everyone gathered to watch the final match of the year. Having beaten both Slytherin and Hufflepuff, Gryffindor was playing its final match against Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw would need to win by a very large amount of points-more than three hundred and fifty!-in order to win the Quidditch Cup. Simply catching the Snitch before the Charlie Weasley, the Gryffindor Seeker, would not be nearly enough.

"If Ravenclaw wins the game, but not by enough points, will Gryffindor still win the Cup?" Harry asked, as he and his dad made their way out to the Quidditch pitch.

"Correct. If Gryffindor were to lose the game, they would still win the Cup," Severus answered. "I dare say they are very intent upon winning the game as well as the Cup, though."

"Really? How can you tell?" Harry countered, glancing up at his guardian.

His dad tousled his hair. "Professor Flitwick complained to Professor McGonagall in a staff meeting that they could hardly manage to schedule time for their team to practice. She replied that this was far from true, that there was plenty of time for Ravenclaw on the pitch...at any rate, it's clear that Gryffindor doesn't simply wish to win, but win by a large amount."

"Oh." Harry thought that this made sense. "But, Dad, if they spend all of their time practicing, when will they do their homework and study for exams?"

Severus laughed. "I rather expect they'll do so afterwards, and not receive very good marks as a result. Come, let's find our places."

The pitch was as packed as it had been for Harry's first match. Signs were all over the stands, as well. It was not merely Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students holding them. Harry could spot some from the Hufflepuff stands. Slytherin, as well. It seemed to Harry that Hufflepuff was rooting firmly for Ravenclaw, although a few students held signs for Gryfffindor. Slytherin, likewise, was rooting for the house that prided itself on their thirst for knowledge. Harry thought for a moment. If Slytherin had won up until this point, it would have been them playing against this house, and hardly cheering for them. He reckoned that none of the other houses would create or display signs for Slytherin. Harry tried to make out Dora in the stands, but even with his glasses, he couldn't separate her from the other Hufflepuffs.

The players gathered together, holding their broomsticks and looking-or so Harry thought-eager to be in the air. He wondered, briefly, if the players on the teams loved flying as much as they enjoyed the sport. Did the two go hand in hand? Then, another thought occurred to him. How could they practice without another team present? He frowned, slightly. He wouldn't ask his dad, just then, but perhaps after the match. In the meantime...

Suddenly, the players were up in the air, and the balls were all over the pitch. Harry could nearly make out the Snitch, but the other ones were far easier to spot. More than once in the first several minutes, a player was nearly knocked from their broomstick by a Bludger. Harry winced each time it happened. The Chasers seemed to be well-matched, as Gryffindor and Ravenclaw each scored three goals in the beginning of the game. As long as Charlie Weasley caught the Snitch before Martha Cartridge, they were almost certain to win. In fact, since Ravenclaw was so far behind, it would be better for Martha to keep Charlie from spotting it until they caught up.

If they ever did. An hour later, the scores were still the same. No sooner had one team scored than the other made up the difference. Ravenclaw didn't use dirty moves, like Slytherin used to, but their Chasers played hard, and soon, the Ravenclaw Beaters began nearly trailing the Bludgers to keep them away from their players.

In the end, though, Charlie Weasley caught the Snitch almost out of nowhere. Once minute, it was nowhere to be seen, and the next, the red-haired Weasley held it triumphantly in his hands.

Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup.

The students in their house went so loud that Harry's ears began to hurt. Madam Hooch immediately entered the pitch with the Cup, and handed it first to the Captain, who then handed it to Charlie. He took a bow, and the cheering resumed even more loudly.

Harry glanced over at Professor McGonagall, whose smile made the one after the other matches look like nothing. She pumped her fists into the air, completely unlike her usual self, but when Harry glanced over at his dad, he merely chuckled.

"Well, nicely done, Minerva," Severus said, shaking her hand. "The Cup may have your house's name on it for the duration of the school year, but I caution you not to grow accustomed to it."

The Transfiguration teacher laughed. "Oh, I daresay my house's team will grow quite accustomed to it, indeed. Especially if...well, never mind." She'd glanced at Harry for just a second, then turned her attention back to Severus. "It was quite an interesting series of matches this year."

"As I said," Harry's dad replied, courteously, "Gryffindor well deserved the Cup this year. However, I shall do my best to ensure it goes to my house the following one."

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows, just a bit. "As will I, don't doubt it for a moment."

"Dad?" Harry asked, cautiously, after they were back in their quarters.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Did you and Professor McGonagall, er, have a fight?" he went on, slowly.

But his dad just chuckled. "No, owlet. That's merely friendly competition between friends."

Harry was glad. Not that he'd had much experience with adults fighting-if one good thing could be said about his deceased aunt and uncle, it was that they almost never argued in front of him or Dudley-but he didn't think he would much like it.

The last month of the term flew by. Harry did not spend all of his free time preparing for his tests, unlike Dora, but he did put in at least an hour every day after his lessons. In the evening, his dad would help as well, quizzing him on his most recent lessons, and asking questions about the older ones.

Severus was good at helping Harry study. One way was by asking a question in a way that was a bit different than how Harry had originally learned the answer. This first threw Harry, a bit, but Severus immediately explained that Harry should know how to answer a question asked in numerous ways.

"The answer will generally be the same, but examiners may try to trip you up," he explained, giving Harry's shoulder a squeeze. "You have to understand the essence of what's being asked for."

The night before his first exam, Transfiguration, Harry felt too nervous to listen to his dad read him a chapter of "The Silver Chair," much less fall asleep. He knew he was prepared, or as much as he could be, but the butterflies wouldn't leave his stomach. If he was this on edge the night before, how would he be the next day? Worse, what if all the information left his head, and he failed?

"You're very prepared, owlet," his dad reassured him, taking Harry into his arms. "Besides, even if you failed all of your exams, I wouldn't love you any less."

"I want you to be proud of me," Harry mumbled, speaking into his guardian's night shirt.

"I am proud of you." Severus released Harry enough so he could look him in the eyes. "Truly, Harry, I am."

Harry let out a deep breath. Some of the butterflies went away, but he still felt anxious.

"Shall I rub your back for awhile?" his dad offered.

Harry nodded, a bit hesitantly, but the older man merely smiled and gently positioned him on his back. Once the back fabric was free, and his dad's hands were on his shoulders, Harry felt himself begin to calm, fully. He relaxed into the familiar motions, the pressure never too hard. On and on it went, until the next thing Harry knew, it was morning, and he was wrapped securely in his dad's arms.

All the same, he felt too nervous to eat more than half of his porridge. His test would be with Professor McGonagall, and she promised to mark it immediately afterwards, and go over the answers with him. The other teachers would do the same. It wouldn't go that way after he became a student, they had cautioned, but this was simply preparation for that time.

He needn't have worried. The questions weren't easy, exactly, but he knew all of the answers. Writing carefully with his new quill, he finished the ten questions well before the hour she'd given him was up. Then, Harry handed in his test paper, and Professor McGonagall read through it, quill in hand.

She didn't use it once, only to write "100!" on the top of the page.

Charms was easier still, although Harry had made a slight mistake when asked about levitation charms. Instead of writing, "Wingardium leviosa," he'd put an "o" instead of an "a" at the end. Professor Flitwick only took off one point, noting that it was the last question on the test.

"You did very, very well," he praised, handing Harry back his test with a "99! Well done!" on top.

Herbology was a mix of written and practical. Professor Sprout did test Harry on what he had learned, but wanted to see how he would do with the most simple of plants. Since the Dursleys had begun to give him gardening chores, it was not very difficult. On this test, Harry earned another 100.

His final test was in Potions. Like Herbology, it contained a written portion as well as a practical one. Not that Harry was allowed to brew by himself, but Severus had him cut up plants to be used in Potions, and he had to know the best way to prepare them. It was nothing he hadn't done before, and the written portion was just as easy. When Harry finished, he knew that he had done well. Like Professor McGonagall, his dad (and teacher) didn't even write anything on the test except "100%."

Severus had seen all of Harry's marks Friday's exam, but now that it was over, Harry thought his dad could let on that he was pleased with how Harry had done. After handing Harry his test back, Severus pulled him into a long hug.

"You did very, very well, owlet," he told him. "I'm extremely proud of you."

"I missed one point in Charms," Harry reminded his dad, still nestled against him.

"Ah, but that's only one point. We all make mistakes, and I expect you won't make that one in the future." Severus let go, placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, and kneeled down so they were at eye level. "I don't expect perfection, only that you work hard and learn from your mistakes."

"I will," Harry promised.

Severus hugged him again. "I believe this calls for a trip to the kitchens tonight."

He must have been very proud, Harry thought later, his stomach pleasantly filled with ice cream and treacle tart.

Dora's OWLs went well, from what she could surmise from them. Harry hadn't seen much of her since the Quidditch match, and when he had seen her, his friend looked tired, even exhausted.

"We're all studying late into the night," she'd explained, simply.

The work seemed to have paid off, though. Dora had said she wouldn't receive her marks until July, but she'd been confident about how she'd done.

"There wasn't a single question I didn't know the answer to," she said, proudly, "and in my practical exams, the examiners all smiled and said I'd done very well. Except for Potions, but that's only because they don't reveal how your potion is supposed to look at the time. But I know mine looked just as they were supposed to. I think I managed an Outstanding after all."

Harry hoped so, for his friend's sake. "Will you write me and let me know?" he asked, a bit shyly.

"Of course!" Dora grinned. "We'll be at our summer cottage for at least a month. Goodness knows, I can use the rest! Did you know, I won't have any homework this summer? They can't assign anything, because they don't know which lessons we'll choose to sign up for. Two months of no studying! Well, I'll likely have Mum buy the new books once I have my results, and get started, but the fact that I won't HAVE to..." She grinned. "How were your end of term exams?"

Harry told her, and received another grin in response.

"Good job, Harry!" she praised.

Then, it was time for the end of term feast. There was an air of celebration in the room, and Harry was initially not sure why, until he realized that the decorations were for Gryffindor. They had won the House Cup, as well as the Quidditch cup, for the first time in four years. He snuck a look at his dad, but he seemed to take it in stride as much as he had when they'd won the Quidditch Cup.

"The total points," Professor Dumbledore began, "are Gryfffindor in the lead with a tidy 500, Ravenclaw with 475, Slytherin with 400, and Hufflepuff with a respectable 375. Well done, all. Now, without further ado, let us begin the festivities!"

The food, as always, was delicious. Dessert was even better. Harry caught his dad saving him extra treacle tart for later. When they saw each other, Severus gave him a small smile, and squeezed his shoulders.

Teachers needed to remain behind for a few days beyond the students, to finish what Severus called, "odds and ends." Even though the exam results for everyone except fifth and seventh years had been posted, there was still tasks to complete before they could go on summer holidays. For Severus and Harry, this meant straightening up his office and classroom, and doing inventory of the potions that were low in stock. Severus took careful notes, his handwriting far better than Harry's. Even though, as he reminded Harry, his own handwriting had greatly improved since he'd begun to use a quill.

If Harry hadn't seen the school before the students arrived, it would have seemed very strange. Instead, it felt rather like the completion of something. It had been just under a full year since he'd come to live with his dad, but a whole school year had passed, and that was something.

He was glad to be able to spend this time with his dad, even if some of the tasks were a bit dull. They ate breakfast and dinner in their quarters, and lunch in Severus's office. During the afternoons, Severus sent Harry off to play, insisting he needed to stretch his legs.

Then, it was time to return home. There was a series of goodbyes before returning to their quarters to finish packing. Harry glanced at his bedroom one last time before taking hold of his trunk. As much as he loved his room, he was looking forward to returning to Spinner's End. His home.

Calla jumped into his arms, purring loudly. Severus chuckled.

"She won't enter her carrier for the walk, I dare say," he noted.

The purrs increased.

Trunk in one hand and his cat in the other, they left the castle, and strolled past the grounds. Severus held Harry's hand, nodding to signal that they were about to Apparate. Harry drew in a breath. It had been months since they had last done so. Would he be all right?

But as soon as he had this thought, he realized it was over. He felt perfectly fine. A grin formed as he saw the familiar house. They were home, for two months, and soon, they would begin their beach holiday. It would be his first proper summer with his dad, his first real holiday. But, for now, he was home, and that was enough.

Author's note:

A lot to cover in this chapter, perhaps, but I wanted to end Harry's first year at chapter 25. Besides, not much really warranted a chapter of its own!

If I was doing individual works for each of these in between years, this would be a good ending point. But I long decided not to do that, and we still have a long way to go before the next one.

Idea for a summer chapter: A visit to the Tonks home. Thoughts?

Up next: Harry and Severus enjoy being back home, and prepare for their holiday.