The Fountain of Oblivion

Chapter 1 Ordinary Muggle Level

A calm and yet unusually dry and hot evening was coming to a close. The silence only disturbed by the mild buzzing of TV sets and the odd flutter of a large night-bird that was circling above. From time to time, voices could be heard through the fences, discussing the droughts or the unusual policies the government was passing those days. Colonel Fubster, an old man living alone in a tatty-looking house at number 12, Privet Drive, had even posted a sign in front of his house reading, "See no particular reason to carry chocolate on me at night", something that caused his nosy neighbours to scowl. Yet even the most normal, uncurious person - and that would be without a doubt Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number 4, Privet Drive - were forced to recognise that many things recently seemed to lack reasons.

First of all, the weather had been completely unpredictable, shifting in a few hours from drought to sudden chillness or worse raining shooting-stars. This was worse because shooting-stars could ruin a lawn in a few minutes, something that was considered a crime in Little Whinging. Then again, birds of all shapes and sizes, but owl-like mostly, were constantly seen flying into houses, only to get out as fast as they could just as if they had stepped in by mistake. Owls dropping by had become a subject serious enough to be mentioned weekly in the local newspapers. To make matter worse, the Government had started issuing recommendations such as, "Always keep chocolate handy, especially at night" or "Why not try blocking your fireplace? Who knows who could pass through it?" without giving the slightest explanation. The common belief was that the country was definitely going downhill, that the good old times were indeed gone and that "the best we can do is keep our house clean and wait." So that's what the inhabitants of Privet Drive did, they kept their houses unnaturally clean, spied on their neighbours to see if by chance they were blocking their fireplaces and gossiped all day long in the little coolness they could find.

But for one boy sitting on a public bench at the end of Wisteria Walk, all this made perfect sense. He was a thin, slightly sad-looking, bespectacled young teenager wearing old jeans and a black T-shirt. His face was fair but his green eyes seemed to be focused on something distant or remote, as if he was trying to see something invisible. Then suddenly he snapped his fingers and his face relaxed.

''There you are! Bring this to Mrs. Figg will you." he said, tucking a parchment letter out his pocket and letting it at the end of the bench.

A yellow cat suddenly jumped on the bench, took the letter in his mouth and disappeared into the park. Harry Potter immediately resumed his melancholic musing. For him, too, this summer had been highly unusual. Though certainly not for the same reasons as his neighbours. In many ways, it qualified as the best summer of his life and yet he felt despair or confused most of the time. On the plus side, he had daily news from his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, who had sent him an owl a day with unswerving friendship. Hermione was spending her holidays with her parents in Spain, and by the look of it she was having the time of her life. Yet she wanted to come back as quick as possible. Ron was staying at 12 Grimmauld Place, the secret Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Though that meant he had no real holidays, Harry envied him more than Hermione. He at least knew what was going on. Ron had shared all he could gather from the secret meetings of the Order with Harry, using a safer way to communicate than owl post when the information were too sensible. In fact, it was Ron who had first suggested using Mrs. Figg's cats to pass letters to Harry. The system had worked flawlessly and Harry was grateful of his redheaded friend for that.

Remus Lupin and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had written quite often too, asking mainly about how he felt and if the Dursleys were treating him well. Occasionally Mad-Eye Moody, the paranoid but talented ex-Auror, would drop a line suggesting that he pay a visit to them. On those occasions Nymphadora Tonks, one of the youngest member of the Order and an Auror herself, would add a brief word begging Harry to answer quickly for fear Mad-Eye would simply apparate in the Dursleys living-room, his wand out and ready to strike, thinking a gang of Death Eaters had attacked Harry.

Quite surprisingly considering their previous record of starving, mocking, and scolding Harry, the Dursleys had in fact treated him exceptionally well this summer. The brief encounter they had with Mad-Eye Moody at King Cross Station was not unrelated to this of course, but it was not the only cause of this sudden change of behaviour. From what Harry had gathered from hushed discussions and uneasy questions, the Dursleys had finally learned the truth about their beloved son Dudley. He had been expelled from Smeltings because of his constant rule-breaking and accusations of bullying. At first, Aunt Petunia had argued with her high-pitched voice that this must have been a mistake and that her "Diddy Duddykins" could not possibly have hurt anyone. But when they received a letter from Smeltings confirming he had been caught cheating in exams twenty-three times and that they had been seventy-six complaints of brutality, they were forced to admit that something had to be done. Vernon Dursley put on his most expensive suit and his maroon tie ("Smeltings colour, they will remember me, no question," he had said) then yelled at Harry to extra-clean the car (which caused Aunt Petunia to make an urgent "hiss". Uncle Vernon seemed to remember suddenly something and went to clean it himself) and left to see the headmaster of Smeltings. He was perfectly confident in the outcome of the meeting ("If they cannot see that Dudley is fine with all the money I'm givin' them, they're the worst bunch of idiots I've ever seen").

When he had come back, it was clear that everything had not gone so smoothly. The headmaster had been perfectly clear there was no way Dudley was coming back to his school. Harry, who had never seen his uncle looking anything else but self-satisfied or furious before, discovered his uncle could be miserable. The news deeply changed the mood of the house: Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were trying awkwardly to make Dudley behave, but that only made him run out the house more often and coming back later. They constantly threatened him that he was not going to get a Playstation 2 if he did not catch up with school during the holidays. Surprisingly enough, he did not complain. Instead Dudley threw a brick at a video-game shop front window instead and tried to steal a brand-new machine. The police had not found about that, but the Dursleys had and were almost fainting with fear at the idea someone was going to find out. For the first time ever, they seemed to be more worried about Dudley than about Harry, and that was definitely convenient for him.

The joy of corresponding with his closest friends and the pleasure of a Dursley-free summer was nothing compared to the pain that was overtaking him each time he thought about Sirius. His Godfather was dead because he had been arrogant enough to stop Occlumency lessons, stupid enough to believe Sirius was trapped in the Department of Mysteries, in the most secret and well-protected part of the Ministry of Magic, and weak enough to lose in his battle against the Death Eaters. He could not help blaming himself constantly, reliving the fight between Sirius and his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. In those moments, he usually tried to find a remote place and forced himself to think about how he could make things better.

"Sirius will not come back," he said to himself. "Yes, but no-one is going to pay the price of your stupidity. Hermione would not have fallen for that. Even Ron warned me!" The only satisfying solution he could see was to work tirelessly in his sixth year. He had already planned to continue the DA, the association of students dedicated to practise Defence against the Dark Arts he had led the previous year. "If anyone is still interested of listening to you," he thought and was determined to improve his own abilities. "If we only had a Defence against the Dark Arts teacher who was not a tyrannic cow," he said to himself. He remembered Professor Umbridge, the teacher he had hated the most since he had arrived at Hogwarts. That was saying something, considering his attitude towards Severus Snape. Harry heard a familiar flutter and, looking up, was not surprised to see five owls gliding towards 4 Privet Drive. He quickly jumped up and ran to the Dursley's house to read about his friends. He arrived in the Dursley's living-room just in time to catch the first letter. It was carried by a great barn-owl, the type used by Hogwarts and was carrying a lion, snake, eagle, and badger ornamented seal, the symbol of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. With a sudden feeling of tension, Harry guessed it was the results of his OWLs. Uncle Vernon was just entering the living-room when the animal he hated most zoomed out of the window.

"I have warned you, boy," he started with a menacing voice. "You'd better make them stop to come in right now or I'll might break the neck of the next one," he continued. However, Harry could easily sense he was more rehearsing a role than really telling him off. He ended miserably by dropping in the armchair near the fireplace. The maroon tie he had refused to take off since the failed interview was hanging loosely on his side.

"What is this letter anyway?" he asked in a tired sort of voice.

"Probably the results of an exam I sat early this summer" Harry answered, carefully avoiding to refer to anything magical in front of his Uncle.

"Your lot has exams?" Uncle Vernon asked with a shrewd voice while looking more intensely at Harry. "Bet you failed, huh?" he said, but then remembered his own son had not even been able to try and sank again in the armchair, looking thoroughly depressed.

"Well I don't know yet, do I?" Harry answered politely, while tearing open the letter. The truth was he was not completely sure he had not. The OWLs had been one month ago and he could not help but remember how poorly he had done in Divination and History of Magic. Not to mention Astronomy, and Potions, and was he sure Transfiguration had gone well? And what about Charms? He suddenly remembered the rat he was supposed to turn orange had ended up the size of a badger. His heart beating uncomfortably loud in his chest, he read the letter.

Dear Mr.Potter,

Your Ordinary Wizarding levels results are as followed:

• Charms Theory: Exceeds Expectations.
• Charms Practice: Exceeds Expectations.
• Transfiguration Theory: Acceptable.
• Transfiguration Practice: Exceeds Expectations.
• Herbology: Acceptable.
• Defence against the Dark Arts Theory: Outstanding.
• Defence against the Dark Arts Practice: Outstanding.
• Potions Theory: Acceptable.
• Potions Practice: Acceptable.
• Care of Magical Creatures: Outstanding.
• Divination: Poor.
• Astronomy: Acceptable.
• History of Magic: Poor.

Yours sincerely, Griselda Marchbanks

and enclosed was another letter reading

Dear Mr.Potter,

Considering your OWLs results, you are accepted in the following NEWT classes, should you choose them: Advance Charms, Advance Transfiguration, Advance Defence against the Dark Arts, Advance Herbology and Advance Care of Magical Creatures. It is strongly advised you choose your NEWT classes with care as they considerably affect your future career.

Yours sincerely,
Professor M. McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress

Harry stood for a minute in shock. Not only had he managed eleven OWLs, he had also three Outstanding, the best grade you could get. Eleven OWLs! That was almost as well as Bill or Percy Weasley, and they were constantly referred to as examples. "Turned out I passed" he said quickly before running upstairs to read his other letters, leaving Uncle Vernon in his dispirited mood. Eleven OWLs, that was something to tell, he even doubted his father had as that much, and yet his father had been a very talented student! Harry felt he must be among the most brilliant students in his year with such a result. But then he remembered Hermione must have had at least as many OWLs has him, and probably more. Three owls were waiting patiently sitting on the window-pane when he entered his room: an almost black one he did not know, a tiny owl he immediately recognised as Pigwidgeon, Ron's owl, and his own snow- white Hedwige, who was hooting gently.

Harry greeted warmly Hedwige and rushed to read his friends' letters. The first was from Hermione.

Dear Harry

I had my OWLs results. I am so upset I did not get an O in Runes and Astronomy. If only I had not mistranslated eiwhaz! Anyway, I had an O in Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Defence against the Dark Arts, Arithmancy, Herbology, History of Magic, and Care of Magical Creatures. I had an E in Astronomy and Runes. I am so embarrassed now because Professor McGonagall told me I can choose at most eight NEWT classes, it is so important that I choose well because they determine everything about your future career you know. How did your OWLs go? Oh, I almost forgot, I am going to you-know-where any time soon. Hope you will join us.

Love, Hermione

Harry wondered for a while if anyone in the whole history of Hogwarts had ever had fourteen OWLs. It was more than Percy or Bill; in fact more than anyone he could think of. It was definitely more than twice what Fred and George Weasley had had together. Hermione had always been the cleverest student in Harry's year, yet Harry felt pride at being friends with someone so talented. He was remembering the best moment of his fifth year when he noticed that Pigwidgeon was nipping annoyingly his ear to attract his attention. The letter was barely readable, evidently because Ron had been particularly excited at the time he had written it.

Harry, I cannot believe it. I had ten OWLs and that's only because of Snape. I'm sure I would have passed Potion theory without this greasy git. Oh, and I also failed Divination and History of Magic but who cares about that? I had an O in Defence against the Dark Arts and in Care of Magical Creatures! For a minute I thought I was going to die in Mum's hug. That coupled with the fact Ginny is a prefect, she's over the moon these days. Hope yours went well. I bet Hermione has set a new record, she is coming soon, by the way. I've heard you were too. Is it true your muggle cousin has been expelled? Fred and George are looking for testing subjects for their new candies and they asked if they could hire him.

See you soon mate, Ron

Harry felt immensely happy for his friend. Since his very first day aboard the Hogwarts Express, Ron had felt he could never catch up to his elder brothers. After all, it was true. You could not get better grades than Bill or Percy or be more famous at Quidditch than Charlie. Now he was a prefect, he had brilliantly passed his OWLs, and Gryffindor had won the Quidditch cup last year mainly due to his superb performance as a Keeper in the last match. Ginny was a prefect, too! Harry could not wait to see the Weasleys again and start a new year. There would be no Umbridge, Quidditch try-outs, NEWT classes and a new Defence against the Dark Arts teachers. It was bound to be an exciting year. Harry wondered who would join the Quidditch team now that Angelina and the twins had left for good. ''Well, we need two chasers and maybe two beaters, last year's weren't that good. Ginny will make it, no doubt, after all she has proven she could fly.' Harry thought for a while who could try out to be the third chaser, but realised he knew almost no-one younger than him, except Ginny and the Creevey brothers (but he very seriously doubted the Creevey would be interested, seeing that a tame wind could easily blow them off a broom).

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This document was translated from L^AT_EX by H^EV^EA.