Chapter 16

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Harry turned his punishment into enjoyment. The Prophet related his exploits of the day before in the morning paper with whatever details they had, but seeing the Grim Reaper that very morning take his breakfast at the Gryffindor table ripped away every shred of a doubt that could have been left about his secret identity. It extinguished all the Slytherins' intentions of acting against Harry too. Before, he had been respected. Now he was feared. Just a few students dared approach him that morning to try to learn more of what happened, once he removed his helmet to show his face. They numbered only five: Ron, Hermione, Luna, Fred and George. Luna knew pretty much all the details, except for the battle itself. She looked for any traces of stress, sadness or distress in his face. Finding next to none, she simply sat on the lap of the personification of death to steal some of his breakfast. The scene was surreal.

Near the end of the meal, a total babe in a French uniform came through the Great Hall's doors, swaying her hips. She asked Harry, in an obedient tone, if he wanted to get rid of his attire. Having decent clothes under his armor, he did so under the glare of his girlfriend. Had he forgotten to tell her about his sexy, goblin-provided, French-dressed maid? Must have slipped his mind. The girl went away with his stuff in an oversized duffel bag and his scythe, now being used to carry it. Harry found the perfect way to distract Luna from the maid, whose back she was still throwing daggers at with her eyes.

"Luna, did I tell you how I ended up wounding Voldemort with a spell that channeled all the love and care I have for you? He couldn't stand such positive emotions..."

Luna still tried to pout, but her eyes were shining, and her cheeks took a cute pink color. She didn't stop his hand from massaging her back when she resumed her seat on his lap.

"I think you just overloaded my rune'd earrings, Harry. I hope for your sake you saved some energy for later," she said in a false cold tone.

This time, it was Hermione's turn to spurt some milk at the apparent innuendo. Ron rubbed her back, trying his best not to laugh.

Harry explained his punishment to the Minister via his mirror, and agreed to schedule the interviews at Hogwarts. The Headmaster began to doubt his decision of forcing Harry to stay inside the school's walls.

Alas, the year wasn't quite done yet. They had to prepare for their OWLs. For his practical Ancient Runes exam, Harry presented his scythe to the examiner. After a single look, the man took the grading paper, checked the 'OWLs' and 'NEWTs' segment at the same time and marked an 'O' with honorable mention. Then he spent the rest of the examination time practically drooling over it and asking questions.

His defense OWLs looked pretty much the same. With the training from Lupin for theory on creatures in third year, the false Alastor Moody in fourth year on dark spells, and Adimus Flitwick on the art of dueling, he didn't have a single hesitation in the written part. The execution of spells was a formality to him, and his dementor-killer patronus gave him even more brownie points.

Potions was a laugh. He was able to use his own ingredients. The examiner was more than a little puzzled, but the result was there: a perfect result.

Theory in History of Magic wasn't that hard either. They had a practical exam, for the first time in the history of that course. You had to present an apology, both in your own name and that of the Wizarding World, to a goblin. Were the clerks at Gringotts surprised that Christmas! But they already called Harry 'Master,' so his own relations with them gave him a good mark.

The hardest exam was in Transfiguration. Harry knew he did well, in both theory and practice. But he knew it wasn't an 'O' either. Not like his smart Luna, who had one hell of a graceful hand. He'd just have to wait for his results. Thanks to his hanging out with Neville, and his tree project that they presented to the examiner, Harry was pretty much sure to have an 'O' in herbology too.

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