A Walking Shadow

For the most part, the rest of Harry’s summer passed in much the same
way as the beginning had





 

For the most part, the rest of Harry’s
summer passed in much the same way as the beginning had. The Dursleys continued
their midsummer madness but they seemed content to ignore him and Harry was
delighted to be able to return the favour. The end of July, of course, marked
his birthday and Harry received the customary sweets, books and Weasley jumper
(usually reserved for Christmas. Mrs Weasley obviously felt that he needed to
be wrapped up warm in the middle of July –perhaps there was hope yet for that snow-blizzard).
New this year was the card and vast bag of sweets that arrived via screech owl
(screech by name and screech by nature –Uncle Vernon’s face had reached an
alarming tomato colour at record speeds) in the dead of the night courtesy of
the entire Order, although Harry noticed that Snape hadn’t signed. He
appreciated the sentiment but the last thing he needed right now was a whole
load of overbearing, pitying adults.

 

Three days prior to his birthday, the
results of his OWLs had arrived on the leg of what appeared to be a very
disgruntled and ruffled school owl. The envelope now lay unopened at the bottom
of his trunk. Harry didn’t need confirmation to know how badly he had done.

 

August’s only high point was the three-day
row between Dudley and his parents. Eventually, their son’s incessant
screaming, crying and complaining wore down his Aunt and Uncle to the point
where they conceded to buy yet another new Playstation to rce tce the one Dudley had kicked in a fit of fury.

 

As it was, August 31st arrived
far more quickly than Harry was accustomed to and he was shocked to realise as
he lay staring up at his bedroom’s ceiling with night falling around the house,
that he had not thought of Sirius since he woke that morning. He was riddled
with guilt. How could he let the anticipation of leaving the Dursleys,-beasts
that they were -for another year overshadow the enormity of what he had lost?
Yet, on another level he knew that he felt far less guilt than he should.
Perhaps, if the pain of Sirius’ death was beginning to diminish, the dreams
would cease and he could sleep at night…. He felt guilty for not feeling
guilty.

 

The journey on the Hogwarts Express was a
nightmare. People insisted on peering through the compartment door to catch a
glimpse of him, first-years listened wide-eyed to the tales older students told
of his earlier exploits. Some of them were embroidered a little. Most were
entirely fictitious. Worst of all, his best friends glanced at him warily
throughout the entire trip, offering their condolences and casting him looks of
sympathy and pity. He didn’t need sympathy or pity! He needed to be alone!

 

It was to Harry’s great relief that the
students finally made it to the steps of the castle where he could blend into
the crowd without people noticing him. For the first time inks, ks, he was
actually looking forward to something. He couldn’t wait to bck ack at Hogwarts.
The castle was the only place he really felt he belonged now. Thus, it was a
great disappointment to be pulled aside by McGonagall before he could enter the
Great Hall with his friends. McGonagall gave him a swift looking-over as if to
assure herself he was still in one piece before she spoke.

 

“Mr Potter, the Headmaster has informed me
that he would like you to see him after the Feast. You know where his office
is?” At Harry’s nod, a small smile crept onto her face. “Good,” she declared.
“The password is cockroach cluster.” Her mouth twisted into a grimace at her
evident dislike of the password and Harry had to work hard to conceal a smile.
She cast him another look, seemingly assessing him. “Harry…I’m always willing
to listen if you ever need to talk.”

 

Harry looked up in surprise. He had been
expecting that phrase from a large number of people pretending to be his
friends –indeed, he had already heard it numerous times on the train –but
McGonagall had said it as if she truly cared. And really what ulterior motive
would his Head of House have? For the first time in what felt like an age,
Harry gave a genuine smile. “Thank you, Professor. I’ll remember that.”

McGonagall nodded and Harry hurried into
the Hall where the Sorting was due to begin soon. He left behind a profoundlyrrowrrowful expression on his teacher’s face as she recalled how his smile had
rekindled the usual jade fire in his eyes…and wondering how she could have
failed to notice that they had previously been devoid of that same fire.

 

The Sorting, together with the enchanted
ceiling and the Headmaster’s traditional speech had not failed to strike awe
into the first-years’ hearts. Harry noticed none of them, instead brooding on
why Dumbledore would want to speak to him. He had explained everything last
term and Harry did not much want to be reminded of what they had talked about.
And he wasn’t sure he could be trusted yet not to vandalise the Headmaster’s
office again.

 

He learned to ignore the ‘surreptitious’
stares of the entire school, and really, what had he been expecting?

 

Predictably, Hermione brought up the
subject of OWLs only ten minutes into the feast, much to Harry’s amusement and
Ron’s chagrin.

 

“’Mione! Leave us alone! We know you
got the highest number of OWLs in Merlin-knows-how-many-years-”

 

“Seventy-five-”

 

“ –but that’s no reason to rub in the fact
that we didn’t get thirteen OWLs. Thirteen…I mean…that’s even more than
Percy!”

 

“-years,” she continued smoothly. “And that
was achieved by Edmontia Davies in 1921. She received thirteen as well and the
only other thirteen or higher score in the last two hundred years was
Professor Dumbledore! He received all fifteen in 1861!” Hermione blinked
suddenly and stopped lecturing, though her mouth was still poised to continue.
Ron’s voice in the background continued for another few seconds before he
realised no-one was listening. Hermione turned to Harry.

 

He sighed inwardly. He should have been
expecting this. To tell the truth, he had been. He had been expecting it to be
almost the first thing out of Hermione’s mouth when she saw him, but dammit!
He didn’t want to know!

 

“Hey, Harry…you didn’t owl us to tell what
you got. Were you forbidden from sending out Hedwig?”

 

Hmm…actually that wasn’t such a bad
excuse…but...but he was sick of being lied to and he had sworn that
where he could, he would tell the truth.

 

“No…actually I don’t know how I did.”

 

Hermione looked scandalised whilst Ron’s
eyebrows disappeared into his hair. “Really! Didn’t they reach you? I thought
the owls looked too overworked but to actually delay-“

 

Harry had to cut her off. “No, Mione,” he
interrupted. “The owl arrived but I didn’t open it. I don’t need to know.”

 

It was worth it, he reflected, just to see
the expression on Hermione’s face. He had never seen anyone look so shocked.
“But Harry…I mean…don’t you want to know?”

 

Harry shook his head. “I know I did
dismally. And really, it’s not like anyone’s going to care what I got…” He
trailed off and suddenly his friends’ eyes widened in understanding.

 

“Harry,” Hermione began carefully, “we
care! And we want to congratulate you where you did well-”

 

“And commiserate where you did awful-”

 

!” !”

 

“Well, no-one could have passed Divination!
I mean, I failed that one spectacularly!”

Harry had to smile at that. He was certain
he’d failed Divination just as abysmally as Ron claimed he had.

 

“Really, Harry…have you still got the
letter? Will you open it?”

 

“We promise we won’t laugh.”

 

Hermione shot Ron a nasty look and Harry
had to stifle a snicker as they both turned to him, shooting him inquiring
looks.

 

“Alright!” he conceded, laughing. “It’s in
my trunk. I’ll read it tonight!” Apparently satisfied, his friends then turned
the

conversation to more trivial, mundane
things but Harry really wasn’t concentrating. He knew the letter would just

confirm how badly he had done, but even the
confirmation was worth the warm feeling his friends’ conversation had given
him.

Someone cared…even if it wasn’t Sirius.

 

* * *

 

That warm feeling had long vanished by the
time he was seated in front of Dumbledore’s desk, a large box of sweets shoved
under his nose.

 

“Sherbet lemon, Harry?”

 

Harry shook his head politely and remained
silent, determined that, since Dumbledore had asked him to come up in the first
place, he could start the conversation. Dumbledore popped a sweet into his
mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a moment, regarding Harry from behind
steepled fingers.

 

“Hmm…Harry. I suppose you want to know why
I have asked you to see me?” Harry only nodded. “Firstly, I wanted to
congratulate you on your OWL results. Quite something even if I do say so
myself!” What? What was Dumbledore on about? “Secondly…how are you
Harry?”

 

Harry looked up in surprise. How did
Dumbledore think he was? Happy? Content? No. He settled for:
“Better. At least…I don’t think I’m going to throw things around this time.” He
attempted a smile and was relieved when it was returned. He had felt
guilty about that but he just hadn’t been calm enough to apologise. Well, no
time like the present. “Sorry about that. Sir.”

 

Dumbledore smiled benevolently. “That’s
quite alright, Harry. I daresay much of it needed replacing. I do seem to
collect unusual artefacts.” He paused and gave Harry one of those inscrutable
looks. “And I am glad, in a way.” Harry started and gave a Dumbledore a look
that, quite plainly, said he thought his Headmaster was balmy. “Anger can be a
most dangerous emotion and I am glad that you could let it out without causing
yourself harm.” He sighed. “Harry, what I want to say is that you needn’t feel
alone. Yes, no-one can know how you feel but they can be there for you when you
need them. Mr Weasley and Miss Granger both wish to help you, as do I. And
several of the Order, in fact. The Weasleys, most noticeably.”

 

Harry choked down a sob. How did Dumbledore
know? How did he know that the one thing that scared Harry more than anything
was not facing the end, but facing it alone? That warm feeling returned
suddenly and Harry found himself smiling genuinely for the third time in as
many hours. What was wrong with him? Luckily he was saved from pondering
that further because Dumbledore was talking again.

 

“I don’t want you thinking for a second, Harry,
that we will allow you to face this alone.” He sighed again and Harry was
suddenly struck by how old he must be. What had Hermione said? 1861? That made
him one hundred and fifty years old! “I must confess, however, that assuring
you was not my only motive for asking you up here. I would ask that you
continue your Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape. I feel that learning to
become an Occulumens could be an immensely useful skill to have in the future.”

 

Actually, Harry had been sort of hoping
that he could start again. At least Voldemort wouldn’t be able to trick him the
same way twice. But did it have to be with Snape? Evidently, Dumbledore
read something of his thoughts from his face because he chuckled indulgently.
“I realise that you do not get on well together but I have spoken to Professor
Snape and he has told me that he will be willing to teach you as los yos you
are willing to learn.” Harry stared. Snape had agreed? That didn’t sound
like something Snape would do…except…well, actually it did. As long as you
are willing to learn. Who else could have managed to insult him when
agreeing to teach him?

 

Harry made sure to look Dumbledore in the
eyes. “I would be willing to learn, sir.” If Snape was actually willing
to teach, which he found hardbelibelieve.

 

Dumbledore smiled. “Thank you, Harry. I
will admit that that lessens a great worry on my mind.”

 

It was strange, Harry pondered as he rode
the staircase down from Dumbledore’s office, how certain people could just make
him feel wanted when he wanted nothing more than to push them away. And all
things considered, it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. It seemed he wasn’t so
alone as he had originally thought.

 

And of course, now he was unbelievably
curious about his OWLs.

 

* * *

 

The envelope appeared innocent and
unassuming but Harry knew from experience that appearances could be deceiving.
He hadn’t felt this nervous about a letter in a long time, not since he’d had
to take a letter from school home to the Dursleys asking to explain how he’d
managed to set free the frogs awaiting dissection in the biology lab. God…this
was ridiculous. He’d faced Voldemort too many times to count, he’d killed a
basilisk, he’d survived Snape…so why was he so nervous over opening one
envelope?

 

Beside him, Ron and Hermione gave him
sympathetic glances. “I couldn’t open it for twenty minutes,” admitted
Hermione. “I was just so worried that I’d done badly and at least if I didn’t
open it, I’d never have to know.”

 

Ron gave her an incredulous look. “You
thought you were going to do badly? Hermione, you must have been the only
person who thought you were going to do badly-”

 

They stopped arguing when they noticed that
Harry had seized the opportunity while they weren’t paying attention and was
now reading his letter. They began to get worried when he said nothing for
several minutes. Wordlessly, Harry finished reading and handed them the letter,
his face betraying nothing. Ron took the letter and Hermione read it over his
shoulder. Finally:

 

“Harry…”

 

“I-I-”

 

“Wow, Harry. Just…wow.”

 

Harry had to agree with them. He’d had to
read the letter through three times before he was convinced his eyes weren’t
playing up. And he almost still didn’t believe it…except, well, it was written.
Right there.

 

Dear Mr Potter,

 

Following are the results of your OWL
(Ordinary Wizarding Level) examinations taken in the summer term of
nineteen-hundred-and-ninety-six.

 

Both practical and written examinations
were marked using the standard marking scheme of awarding points out of twenty
five and averaging the results to give the final grade, except in those
subjects where only one examination was issued, where the results were not
averaged.

 

It should be noted that both the
Astronomy Practical examination and the Potions Written examination were
standardized because 1). The Astronomy Practical examination was interrupted by
an unexpected and unavoidable disruption that caused most candidates to leave
the examination only two-thirds finished and 2). The Potions Written examination
was found to be particularly difficult, causing the grade boundaries to be
lowered.

 

Astronomy:

Practical-Poor

Written-Acceptable

Overall averaged grade-Acceptable

Care of Magical Creatures

Practical-Exceedsectaectations

Overall grade-Exceeds Expectations

Charms:

Practical-Exceeds Expectations

Written-Outstanding

Overall averaged grade-Outstanding

Defence Against the Dark Arts:

Practical-Outstanding

Written-Outstanding

Overall averaged grade-Outstanding

Divination:

Practical-Poor

Overall grade-Poor

Herbology:

Practical-Exceeds Expectations

Written-Exceeds Expectations

Overall averaged grade-Exceeds
Expectations

History of Magic:

Written-Poor

Overall grade-Poor

Potions:

Practical-Exceeds Expectations

Written-Outstanding

Overall averaged grade-Outstanding

Transfigurations:

Practical-Outstanding

Written-Outstanding

Overall averaged grade-Outstandin &nb  

N.B Consistently excellent
demonstrations and answers in both aspects of the Defence Against the Dark Arts
examination, coupled with the proof of ability to conjure a fully corporal
patronus, allows for an extra certificate in Advanced Defence Against the Dark
Arts to be awarded. Approved by Examiner E.B Tofty.

 

Congratulations Mr Potter. You have
achieved twelve full OWLs and one HOWL (Higher Ordinary Wizarding Level).

 

Please send an owl detailing which
courses you wish to continue in your sixth year to Hogwarts Professor
McGonagall before August 15th. It should be noted that you will only
be able to continue in certain subjects if your overall averaged grade meets
the requirement of the teacher involved in that subject.

 

Madame Twoileaf

E.B.E (Examining Board of Europe)

 

Harry couldn’t believe it. He had actually
done well! (Although how he had managed to get an Outstanding in Potions was
beyond him. Maybe the Polyjuice question had carried a lot of weight in the
Written…and without Snape barking at him every five minutes, he had actually
managed to concentrate on the Practical).

 

Herm was was predictably gobsmacked.
“Harry…a HOWL! That’s virtually unheard of! It’s almost considered to be a
low-grade NEWT. Those results would be enough to apprentice you to an Auror
today!”

 

Harry smiled. “I think I’d like to finish
school first, ‘Mione. But…look…I mean…there must be something wrong. I can’t
have got an O in Potions!”

 

Hermione frowned. “Well, the letter did say
it had been too hard. And there was that whole question onyjuiyjuice Potion!”

 

Ron grinned. “Just imagine the look on
Snape’s face when you turn up to take NEWT potions!”

 

Harry grinned back at him. An almost
bubbly, happy feeling had welled up inside him and he was content for now just
to listen to his friends argue. He wasn’t worried about the sending an owl to
Professor McGonagall bit. She knew what he wanted to take, and besides,
tomorrow was Sunday. He could tell her then.

 

It occurred to him as he was drifting off
to sleep that night that Dumbledore must have known he hadn’t opened his letter
or he’d have inquired as to why Harry hadn’t sent an owl back. He was forced to
rethink his assumptions of Dumbledore. The man was old, but he wasn’t senile.

 

And the look on Professor Snape’s face was
going to be priceless. Maybe he could get Colin to take a picture.