Promises Fulfilled

Promises Fulfilled

Chapter 5

O.W.L.s

The next few days were filled with sunshine and warmth. All of the windows of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place were cracked to let the warm weather in, causing light to shine into the dark, gloomy passages of the dead house. Unfortunately, the occupants of the house could not bask in the sunshine outside the protective walls of Grimmauld Place during these days and had to resort to the drawing room with the curtains pulled back and the bay windows open, letting them look outside at the baby blue sky with its scattered puffball clouds that littered the vast space.

It was on one of these sunny days in the drawing room that was the hottest of them all and its residents had no choice but to lounge the day away, hiding behind paper fans and tall glasses of pink lemonade and iced tea.

Hermione was sitting on the window seat, her nose buried in a book as her long brown hair swayed in the cool breeze. Crookshanks sat by her feet on the seat, sunning himself; his orange coat glistened gold in the light. Ron, Ginny, and Harry were engaged in an intense game of Exploding Snap, one of them every now and then fanning themselves with their hand as they tried to get even cooler than they already were; their tank tops and shorts did nothing to help them avoid the heat.

It was during Ron's turn when Mrs. Weasley came in with a huge tray of sandwiches and a whole pitcher of lemonade; Ron jerked his head away before the whole castle could explode in his face.

"Have you lot gotten your new booklists yet?" Mrs. Weasley inquired, as she put sandwiches on plates for everyone (extra for Harry, because he was "such a skinny thing" as Mrs. Weasley had been nice enough to put it) and handed them out.

"Not yet," Hermione replied, setting her book down on the seat to come and sit with them in the middle of the room.

"Yeah, but we'll be getting them today," Ron said, half-way through his sandwich.

"How do you know that, Ron?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow quite like Mrs. Weasley did when she knew you had done something wrong just hadn't confessed to it yet.

"I dunno. Just a hunch I guess," Ron replied, scratching his arm.

"Oh! I wonder if we'll get the results of our O.W.L.s as well. I'm positively dying to know what I got--whoops," Hermione gasped softly at the end, chancing a glance for Harry's reaction to the "d" word; he didn't seem to have noticed.

"Yeah. Me too. I'll bet I got a T in everything," Harry groaned, putting his face into his hands.

"A T? You can get a T? What's that? Is it bad?" Ginny asked, looking panicky.

Ginny was entering her fifth year, meaning that she would have to take her O.W.L.s this year. Harry could remember the nerve-racking time period that it had been for him and his friends, staying up at ungodly hours, chanting names and dates of every Goblin Rebellion that had happened since the beginning of time along with complex spells and ingredient lists for complicated potions.

"There is no such thing as a T on an O.W.L. exam!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.

"And Mum would know, seeing as Fred and George already took their O.W.L.s," Ron said, sniggering behind his hand.

Mrs. Weasley gave her son a stern glance, silencing him so he couldn't go further about how George and Fred were big enough slackers to get the worst grades ever.

"Then what are the scores you can get on your O.W.L.s?" Ginny asked, taking a sip of her pink lemonade.

"Well, the best grade you can get is an O for 'Outstanding,'" Hermione explained, a touch of haughtiness in her voice; she knew that she did 'Outstandingly' well on her O.W.L.s.

"Hermione will, of course, settle for nothing less than straight O's," Ron added as Hermione flicked a long strand of hair over her shoulder, clearly irritated about being interrupted.

"And then there's E for 'Exceeds Expectations,'" Hermione continued.

"You and me, mate, we got mostly E's," Ron whispered to Harry behind his hand.

"How do you know?" Harry asked, his brow furrowing at Ron's sudden psychic streak.

"Call it a gut instinct," Ron shrugged, rubbing his arms as if he were suddenly cold.

"There's A for 'Acceptable,' P for 'Poor,' and finally, D for 'Dreadful,' which is about the lowest you can get," Hermione finished, looking pleased with herself.

"But what was T for?" Ginny asked, turning her attention back to Ron and Harry.

"'Troll,'" Ron said, making Ginny and Harry laugh.

"What did I say, Ron?" Mrs. Weasley asked, trying to be stern, though she had a small smile on her lips too.

It was good to see people smile. Harry noticed how relaxed everyone seemed, talking jovially in the sun, just enjoying each others company. He wished that it would last...for just a little while. But happy moments are far and few between in war. So Harry decided to relish in this time lest it be gone all too quickly.

"Wow, Ron. You're starting to put Professor Trelawney to shame," Hermione said, as four large barn owls swooped in the open window.

"A drunken cat with a peg leg could put her to shame," Ron muttered under his breath, making Harry's face break out into a wide grin.

"Yeah, Ron. You're psychic or something," Ginny added as her letter fluttered into her lap.

"Any other predictions that you would like to make--"

"O' Great Seer?" Harry finished for Hermione.

Ron grumbled a little bit, his fingers dancing over his arms again as if he were freezing even though it was over a hundred degrees in the cramped little room. Harry noted the way that his eyes would glimmer amber in the sunlight before turning back to their normal chocolate brown. Was it just a trick of light or did Harry see that golden flash pass before Ron's eyes once again? Ron crossed his arms and closed his eyes, tilting his head to the side as if he were annoyed.

"Ooh! Yes," Ron said after a moment, waving his arms around gaily.

Ginny started to giggle. Harry got his letter from a large tawny owl, which leaned his beak into Harry's glass of cold lemonade for a quick drink. The owls then took off sweeping their large wings that carried them through the open window and out into the open sky.

"I see...I see a metal object! Oh, my poor, poor dear, Hermione. You will meet your unfortunate end by way of a flying metal spatula. Oooh!" Ron chanted mysteriously as he could without laughing; putting on the voice of their Divination teacher always brought on a truck full of laughter.

Ginny doubled over with laughter while Mrs. Weasley glared at Ron, daring him to continue. Harry hid his laugh with a series of small coughs. Hermione was trying to look displeased with Ron as she glowered in his direction; however Harry saw that the corners of her mouth were twitching in an attempted smile.

"And yoooou! You will die as well, Potter! You will be...ah, let me see--" Ron closed his eyes and shuddered as if seeing something terrible. "--you will be trampled by a stampede of Hippogriffs before being thrown in the lake where the giant squid will slowly squeeze the life out of you. So sad, indeed it is, young man," Ron continued, ignoring his mother's fierce look.

Harry laughed out loud; he and Ron always had so much fun predicting their own deaths for Professor Trelawney, the old fraud.

"And sadly, last but not least, you my dear--" Ron began; he was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley.

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley was glaring from the couch; Ron hushed up by stuffing a large roast beef sandwich in his mouth.

"If you really were psychic, you would have seen that one coming," Ginny said behind her hand.

"Dhut Upt!" Ron growled through a mouthful of meet and mayonnaise.

As Ron crunched away on his sandwich, Hermione picked up her letter and ran her fingers over the parchment envelope, tracing the wax Hogwart's crest that held it all together. She bit her lower lip as she squeezed the letter and seemingly weighed it in midair.

"These are the scores to our O.W.L.s," Hermione told them softly.

Harry picked his own envelope up. It felt weighed down and heavy, like there was a whole wad of papers shoved inside its manila confides. Ron swallowed his large bite and picked his own envelope up, staring expectantly at it; there was a glob of mayonnaise on his chin. Ginny sat quietly, waiting expectantly for them to open their letters and relish in their happiness at the results of their O.W.L.s so that she could then look at her own letter. Mrs. Weasley sat on the rickety couch on the far wall, making a big show of cleaning up the remains of their lunch so that she could linger a while longer to hear their grades.

After a moment of careful consideration, Hermione ripped open her letter with a ferocity that no one in the room had ever seen before; Harry unconsciously scooted back away from her. Something fell into her lap, distracting Hermione for a moment from her excited quest for her O.W.L. results.

"Ooh, look! I'm a Prefect again!" Hermione cried excitedly, jumping up and down as she brandished her badge around.

"I knew that," Ron said a matter-o-factly. "And so am I."

Sure enough, when he opened his envelope, a small little Prefect's badge fell out onto his lap; he smiled triumphantly. Harry's heart sunk a little. He was hoping to maybe become a Prefect this year. But the happy look on his friends' faces and the pride that shone in Mrs. Weasley's eyes erased all jealousy from his mind.

"See?" Ron asked, holding it up to show everyone.

The small little badge shone in the bright sunlight and cast a glare of white light that was harsh on the eyes if you looked at it too long. Speaking of eyes...Harry looked at Ron again; his orbs had changed from that almond brown to a fiery amber. What was going on with--it changed once more. Was Harry imagining it?

"Oh my God!" Hermione cried, louder and shriller this time around.

"Oh your God, what?" Ginny asked, looking up from her own letter that remained unopened.

"I...I..." Hermione was speechless, her face flushed and eyes wide.

She held the parchment in one shaky, white hand. Hermione was breathing deeply; she ran a hand through her hair as her eyes darted over across the paper once more, as if clarifying something she thought might be fallible.

"You didn't...you didn't fail did you!" Ginny asked, looking shocked.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple times. The only sounds that came out were small little squeaks that reminded Harry of the mice he used to share residence with in the cupboard under the stairs at Privet Drive.

"I...I-I got all O's!" Hermione exclaimed, finding her voice and looking thoroughly pleased with herself. "My parents will be so thrilled!"

Harry knew that Hermione's parents would be proud of her. But to be honest, they were dentists. What the bloody hell did they know about Wizarding grades anyway?

"Nice job, Hermione," Harry said.

"Hermione!" Ginny cried, jumping up to hug Hermione tightly.

She had Hermione in a tight hug and they did this odd sort of jumping, happy dance. It would have all been very funny if Harry would have been paying attention. He was too busy looking at Ron; those brown orbs had dyed themselves amber again and that gaze was unseeing. Ron's face was clouded and he looked dazed for a moment before shaking his head. His red-headed friend blinked a couple times, as if suddenly realizing what was going on.

"Ron, what did you get?" Harry asked, looking curiously over Ron's shoulder; Mrs. Weasley straightened up a bit before Ron began.

Mrs. Weasley knew that Hermione was a lot brighter than the two boys, but she still had high hopes for Ron to scrape a few more O.W.L.s than Fred and George. Because in all honesty, what Fred and George put into their jokes and pranks could have let them score almost as high as Hermione. But, it was Fred and George. They just didn't do that. They amazed everyone with their astonishingly brilliant inventions and made everyone nearly wet themselves with laughter at their humorous antics. Yes, they would be missed so very much this year.

"Well," Ron said, clearing his throat before reading from the sheet. "I got A's in Transfiguration, History of Magic, and--holy God!--Potions! In Charms, Astrology, and Herbology I got E's and in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures I got O's! O's can you believe it!" Ron cried excitedly; Mrs. Weasley looked pleased.

"What about Divination?" Harry asked behind his hand when Mrs. Weasley was busy talking with Hermione.

"'Dreadful,' but it's not like I care. I'm dropping that class this year," Ron whispered back, playing with his new badge; his eyes flickered to gold once again.

"Hey, Ron," Harry began, wanting to ask what was going on with his best friend when Hermione interrupted him.

"What about you, Harry?" she asked.

"What about me what?" Harry inquired, clueless.

"Your O.W.L.s, dear," Mrs. Weasley clarified.

"Oh. I got..." Harry looked down at the grid on the parchment in his lap. "A P in Divination, an A in History of Magic, E's in Astronomy, Herbology, Transfiguration, and--no way!--Potions. I got O's in Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"That's wonderful," Mrs. Weasley said.

Harry smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. Those eyes were focused on the far wall at a horrid painting of a Grindylow, though he did not see the absolutely vile piece of "art." Harry's thoughts were elsewhere. He wondered what Sirius would say to him at the news of his O.W.L.s. Harry shook his head. He didn't need to wonder. He already knew. Sirius would be so very, very proud of him.

"Well Harry should be doing well in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I mean hello? You are the president of the DA," Ginny commented, looking up from her now opened school letter.

"Speaking of the DA, are we still going to be doing all that this year?" Hermione asked.

"Of course!" Ron and Harry exclaimed at the same time.

How could she even think about not continuing with the DA? Sure, it had been illegal in school last year, and yes, they had been practicing a bunch of complicated spells and hexes under the watchful and dictating rule of the corrupted Ministry of Magic, but it wasn't like they were running around in black-hooded capes with white masks, shooting Unforgivable Curses at every person they came across. Oh, no. That was Malfoy's crew. Bloody idiots, the whole lot of them.

"Yes, even I agree that you should continue with it," Mrs. Weasley said in a low voice. "It's best to be prepared...in these times."

With that said she stood and left the room, declaring that dinner would be at six and that they shouldn't be late. The four of them sat, reading through their letters and scanning the books that they would be learning from in the coming school year. Hermione kept looking at her straight O's, annoying Ron to no end. About the seventeenth time she unfolded the paper and looked at it, Ron declared that he would attach it to her forehead with a Permanent Sticking Charm, like what Fred and George almost did to him the previous year with his Prefect's badge.

Hermione scowled at him before she picked up her badge and began to shine it so that it would glimmer in great contrast to her dark robes. This went on for about ten minutes before Ginny said that if she shined it any further it would blind everyone within a thirty mile radius. Hermione huffed and stalked off to go sit on the window seat with her book and cat. She glowered at them from her corner before burying her nose back in Defensive Strategies and Their Purposes leaving the other three to commence in yet another loud, sweaty game of Exploding Snap.

They stayed in the drawing room until dusk, all of them fighting over the best chair in the room (the other one would grab and tickle you, not letting go unless it was stunned) to watch the beautiful sunset. Ron sat in the middle of the chair, Ginny on one arm, Harry on the other, while Hermione sat in her window seat, leaning against the window frame.

As the pinks and oranges and blues mixed and swirled together, they did not speak. They merely watched in utter amazement at how moving a sunset could be. Just watching the heavenly body sink into the horizon, the feel of the salty sea air blowing on their faces along with the faint calls of birds and neighborhood dogs was so calming. Like there was no war. Like there weren't people out there risking their lives to save the world. Like everything was just right. Like everything was peaceful. Solace like this was so hard to find.

Harry looked over at Ron, the bubblegum pink of the sky reflecting on his face and in his eyes--brown eyes. His normal eyes. Harry followed the path of his gaze. It rested upon Hermione, her long hair blowing elegantly in the breeze, a peach glow radiating off her skin from the sunset, her pink lips parted just barely. Oh, yes. Ron had a crush. A major, full-blown crush on Hermione. Harry had known it for years. The way that they would always bicker made Harry sometimes confuse them with a married couple. He smiled. Would they ever get married?

No, the question was, would Harry ever get to see them get married? Would he get to be best man to Ron? Would he get to watch Hermione walk gracefully down that isle downed in white with a bouquet of lilies? Would he become a godfather to their children? No. Harry doubted it. He could feel it in his bones, his blood, and in the pit of his stomach: this would be his last year with all those he knew. It would be the end of his journey. His life would leave him with the setting sun. Oh, yes. His death was coming. He could feel it.

That's why Harry knew that it was important to do this: to watch the sunset with his friends. To remember what Life gave him and to realize what Death would take away.