Harry Potter and the Last Goodnight

Dinner at the Dursleys was outright boring, in Harry's opinion. He was now allowed to join his aunt and uncle at the table due to Dudley's constant evening absence. For every other meal of the day he had to eat in the kitchen, standing over the sink. Aunt Petunia would fuss about him, threatening his life if he spilled on the carpet. But Dudley almost never came home for dinner, and spent his time riding around with his gang until the early hours of the morning. Harry wondered if Dear Dudders was aware of his replacement at the dinner table.

In contrast to meals at the sink, Harry was invisible at the kitchen table. When his aunt and uncle did speak, they spoke only to each other and did not even look at him. It was fine with Harry. He didn't have to be polite and ask them to pass this or that, and he even got to sit down properly.

Tonight was no exception. Mr. Dursley was sitting at the table, reading his newspaper and chewing loudly. Harry wished that he could read the Daily Prophet as he ate, but knew it was out of the question. He also had the newest installment of The Quibbler that Luna Lovegood had sent him, which he hadn't had time to read yet between yard work and boxing.

Aunt Petunia sat at the table looking bored and indifferent. She scooped up her peas with her fork one by one and slipped them into her mouth. Every once in a while her eyes would pass over Harry, and he would see something that resembled a mother's anxiety. But he was quite sure that the concern was only because she forgot he wasn't Dudley. The look would vanish as quickly as it had appeared before he could dwell on it. He couldn't help but enjoy the atmosphere of rebellion he felt whenever he sat in Dudley's chair.

He was just about to reach for his second helping of kidney pie when there was a great hoot from outside the back window. A small, brown barn owl was hovering in the air, pecking at the glass.

Aunt Petunia screamed. Uncle Vernon looked up from his paper and turned to the back window, horrified.

"Boy, I warned you last time..."

But before he could yell any further, Harry got up from his seat and sprinted outside, where he untied the parchment envelope from the owl's leg. He gestured up to his room where Hedwig was usually perched. He hoped the owl would get the message as he turned on his heel and walked back into the dining room.

"I told you boy, no more owls in my house!"

"Technically, the owl wasn't in the house," Harry replied. Uncle Vernon didn't object. He was staring at the envelope in Harry's hand.

"That's got my name on it," he snarled. "Boy, why has that letter got my name on it? Do you know what would happen if people saw my name on it?"

Harry looked down at the mail in disbelief. Who would be writing to his uncle?

Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley - Care of Harry Potter

Number Four Privet Drive

Little Whinging, Surrey

When Harry flipped the letter over to open it, there was a stamp that said:

Top Secret Information

Those who open this letter and are not the addressee will be hexed immediately.

He recognized the seal of the Ministry of Magic in wax, holding the letter shut. Afraid he would get hexed because the letter was not technically addressed to him, Harry handed the letter over to his uncle. "I think you should open it."

Uncle Vernon turned very pale and eye Harry curiously. "What is the meaning of this?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know, but it's addressed to you, so you'd better open it."

After a few minutes of debating with Aunt Petunia, Harry's uncle took a deep breath and ripped open the envelope, bracing himself for the worst. When nothing happened, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He briefly wondered what he had done wrong now that his aunt and uncle would receive a letter from the Ministry.

But after reading the letter several times over, Uncle Vernon turned to Harry looking very confused. "Boy, did you take some kind of... some sort of... tests?"

Harry's eyes lit up with the realization that what he had just received were the results of his O.W.L. examinations. He snatched the letter as fast as he'd ever taken the snitch from Malfoy and took a moment to pray before reading.

Dear Harry Potter and Guardians,

Enclosed are the results from the Ordinary Wizarding Level (O.W.L.) examinations. Please read them over carefully as they will be very vital to your future at Hogwarts. Upon receiving the results, please consult the N.E.W.T. programs form also included in this letter and fill it out to the best of your knowledge. Send it back to your head of house and expect a list of school supplies the week before the next term. Any protests or complaints can be lodged with Griselda Marchbanks of the Wizarding Examinations Authority.

The grading scale works as follows: O is Outstanding, E is Exceeds Expectations, A is Acceptable, P is Poor, D is Dreadful, and T is Terrible. Anything lower than an A is a failing grade.

Harry was momentarily glad that T did not stand for Troll as Fred and George had told him, but his anxiety only increased. He tried to remember what McGonagall had told him about becoming an Auror. He needed to take five N.E.W.T. classes all together. Professor McGonagall had only told him four subjects he needed to take and they were Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. But if he wanted to take the N.E.W.T. classes, he would need certain grades in his O.W.L.s. If only Harry could remember more clearly. He thought he needed at least an E in Transfiguration and an O in Potions.

Fat chance, he thought bitterly. He was positive there was no way he had received an Outstanding grade in Potions, and if he didn't have an O, then Snape wouldn't accept him into the program.

As he turned the piece of parchment over to reveal his grades, Harry realized his hands were shaking. If he couldn't be an Auror, what else would he do?

CLASS THEORY PRACTICAL OVERALL

Charms O E E

Transfiguration E O O

Herbology E A A

Defense Against Dark Arts O O O

Care of Magical Creatures E O O

Astronomy E A E

Divination - P P

History of Magic D - D

Potions E O O

Harry couldn't believe what he was reading. At the bottom of the slip of parchment, next to Potions, was an O. He'd gotten an outstanding O.W.L. in Potions! He'd forgotten where he was and began jumping up and down in the middle of the Dursleys' dining room.

"I don't believe it! I don't believe it!" Harry cried. "I've done it!"

"Sit down boy!" Uncle Dursley growled. But Harry wasn't listening. He could have kissed his uncle he was so happy.

Sirius. He wanted to tell Sirius. He wanted to -

Harry realized with a start that Sirius wasn't there. There was no one there for him. He felt emptiness, a huge void inside of him. He was lonely. Anger flared up inside of him at his own stupidity. How could he have forgotten?

He didn't want to feel at all anymore.

Harry could barely hear his uncle shouting at him as he fell back into his chair. Somewhere in the distance a phone was ringing, but Harry was concentrating so hard on not getting emotional that he though it was on the television.

"It's for you," Uncle Vernon spat, and dropped the cordless telephone into Harry's lap.

Bewildered, Harry picked up the phone and tried to bring himself back to reality. Forget about Sirius, he thought. Forget about the Ministry, forget about everyone. Don't feel.

"Hello?" Harry whispered.

"Harry?!" It was Hermione's voice that greeted him on the other end of the phone. "Harry, you sound dreadful! Did you just get your O.W.L. letter?"

Harry nodded, but then realized that Hermione couldn't see a nod through a phone. "Y-yes. I did."

"Oh, how did you do?" Hermione squealed. "It can't be all that bad Harry."

"No, I... I did fine," Harry replied, managing a light laugh that his heart wasn't really in. "I actually got an Outstanding in Potions." He barely believed it himself.

"That's excellent, Harry! I knew you would be great at Potions if you didn't have Snape breathing down your neck."

"How did you do?" he asked, but he was pretty sure he already knew the answers.

"All Outstandings," she said. "Except for... Well, except for..."

"Except for what?"

"Except for in Care of Magical Creatures."

Harry gasped. "But Hermione, how on earth...?"

"I was distracted!" Hermione cried. "I don't know where I went wrong. I've been replaying the Practical exam over and over in my mind and I..."

"But you did pass it, didn't you?"

"Of course," she said. "I got an E, but still..."

"Do you know how Ron did?" Harry interrupted.

"Yes, I do." There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"How did he do?"

"He did... Well, he did better than Fred and George."

Somehow, Harry did not find that very reassuring. There was commotion in the background, and he could have sworn he heard Ron's voice say, "Let me tell him!"

"Hermione, is Ron there? What's he doing at your house?"

"Actually, I'm at the Burrow. Ouch! Ron!" Hermione was apparently struggling. He heard Ron curse.

"What are you at the Burrow for?" Harry questioned, not bothering to hide his jealousy. He remembered last summer, when both Ron and Hermione had spent most of the summer holiday at the Grimmauld Place, while he was suffering alone at the Dursleys. He nearly had an ulcer from worrying so much.

"That's what we're calling about."

"Did something happen?" Harry demanded, immediately feeling guilty for his tone. "Is something wrong?"

"No, we were just wondering if you wanted to spend the rest of the summer with us."

"HERMIONE! GIVE ME THE FELLYTONE!" Ron demanded. Harry heard Hermione cry out as Ron's voice came through clearly on the other end of the phone. "Harry, you're not going to believe this. I got an E in Potions!" he said angrily. "I got an E and now I can't take Snape's stupid N.E.W.T. class and I'll never be an Auror!"

Harry's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. Ron had told him in a letter a few days ago that both he and Hermione had decided that they would be taking all the proper N.E.W.T. classes to become an Auror. He had been delighted at first, but the doubt that all three of them would make the grades had been eating away at him. He heard struggling on the other end of the phone and Hermione was speaking to him again. "It's not over yet, Harry!" Hermione cried. "We're going to contest it. Mr. Weasley has just sent an owl to that old bat Marchbanks at the Ministry. And we still haven't talked to Snape about it yet."

"Talk to Snape?" Harry asked.

Ron was back on the phone. "Yeah, Hermione's got this crazy idea that he may change his O.W.L. standard for the class, but I hardly think he'd give me special attention."

Harry felt a glimmer of hope somewhere. He felt a closer connection to Snape, though he didn't want to, ever since he'd seen a memory in his pensive. Perhaps he could talk to Snape. Maybe he could offer to help tutor Ron - but he was no better at Potions than Ron, especially when he was working in a classroom under Snape's nose.

Harry sighed. "I'm sure we can fix this." But he didn't quite believe it himself.

"That's not why we're calling. Mum and dad had a great idea."

"What is it?" Harry asked impatiently. His aunt and uncle were both hunched over his letter on the table, and Uncle Vernon was touching it carefully with his fingertips as though it were going to bite him.

"Well, we thought it was about time that you came and stayed at the Burrow. Are you ready to leave the Dursleys?"

Harry glanced up at his aunt and uncle who were still studying his O.W.L. letter. "Definitely. I'm ready."

"And the best part is that everybody's at the Burrow right now," Ron added.

"Well, not everybody," Hermione scoffed in the background.

"What do you mean, not everybody?" Harry asked.

"Percy," Hermione answered, her voice angry. "He's not here." There was another struggle, and Harry heard Hermione say, "The cord's tangled in my hair, Ron!"

"Sorry, 'Mione. Mum and dad want him to come back," Ron said, "but Fred and George were against it. They said that they can't trust him and he needs to suffer a little before he comes home."

Harry hadn't thought much of Percy after he'd written a nasty letter telling Ron to ditch him as a friend. But now the Ministry understood that Voldemort was back and they saw some of the errors of their ways. He still wasn't sure if he was ready to forgive Percy. Harry didn't know if he could ever trust him again.

Ron sighed into the phone. "Well, Percy's always been a mindless git. He's practically living at the office, beckoning to Fudge's every need. I can't believe that dad actually has lunch with that prat everyday."

"But he's apologized a thousand times!" Hermione cried. "I mean, he's Percy, Ron. He's your brother!"

"Yeah, well you didn't get a nasty note telling you that your best friend was an insane attention-seeker and that you should sever all ties with him."

"We all make mistakes, Ron," Hermione said.

"Anyways, dad talked to Fudge and they're going to let us borrow a car to come and pick you up the day after tomorrow - if that's okay with your aunt and uncle," he added quickly. Harry gazed up at the two of them. They were still staring at the parchment, and Aunt Petunia was mouthing the words Defense Against the Dark Arts with wide eyes.

"I think they'll be ready to be rid of me." And at those words, Uncle Vernon looked up gave Harry a nod of approval, not that Harry needed it. He would never stay behind anyway.

"Wicked," Ron replied. "Dad's going to show me how to drive a Muggle car!"

"That's great," Harry replied. There was a pang of jealousy inside of him. He wished that Sirius could have been around to show him how to drive. Even Uncle Vernon had shown Dudley. Who would teach him?

And then he scolded himself for thinking of such stupid things. There were a lot of more important lessons for him to learn than how to drive some idiotic Muggle invention. Harry guessed that most wizards didn't even know how to drive. They could ride their broomsticks or use Floo Powder or Portkeys. If they needed to travel disguised as a Muggle, there was always the Underground or a cab. Driving an automobile was clearly not a vital skill he needed in his studies.

But it didn't make him want to learn it any less.

"Are you still there, Harry?" Hermione questioned. It was her turn on the phone again. "Listen, we've got to go; these Muggle telephone lines are only secure for so long. We'll be seeing you the day after tomorrow then, all right?"

"Right," Harry replied firmly. "Bye, Hermione."

"Bye Harry!" Both she and Ron cried into the phone. It wasn't until he heard a click that he pressed the "off" button on the cordless and put it down on the dining room table.

"What was that about?" Uncle Vernon demanded. "That call was far too long. We may have to make you pay for it in your chores."

Harry shrugged indifferently. "Ron and Mr. Weasley are coming to pick me up at noon on Wednesday," he announced.

"Good," Uncle Vernon said. Then he seemed to reconsider, eyeing the fireplace. "Er, how were they planning to arrive?"

"They've borrowed a car," Harry answered.

Uncle Vernon looked disgusted. "Now what was this? And why was it addressed to us?" he questioned, holding the letter in his hand and gesturing to Aunt Petunia.

"It's my O.W.L.s. My Ordinary Wizarding Levels." When the two of them still looked confused, he tried again. "My grades. I guess they were addressed to you so that the Ministry could make sure that the students are not hiding them from their par - their guardians."

Uncle Vernon seemed to accept this. It must have made sense to him, which probably only perplexed him. Nothing about the wizarding world had ever made sense to the Dursleys.

"I... I think I'll just head upstairs now," Harry said quietly. "To bed."

"You do that," Uncle Vernon barked. "And I want that garden replanted before you leave on Wednesday!"

"Yes sir," Harry replied automatically. Aunt Petunia looked down at the table, almost as if to suggest that Harry finish his dinner. However, before she could say anything, he turned on his heel and trudged upstairs. If there was anything he wasn't feeling right now, it was hungry.