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Harry Potter and the Expert Potions Master	By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 21304 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Chapter 16 - Results

In the days following his sudden realisation, Harry imagined a range of scenarios whereby he and Snape suddenly admitted a mutual attraction and much fucking ensued. Somehow, Harry just couldn't find a way to make it believable that Severus Snape would ever be interested in him.

He loves my Mum! Harry thought a little hysterically. How could he ever be interested in me? He clearly isn't gay so this thing is completely doomed.

That, however, did not stop him imagining Snape sliding inside him, or Snape licking his dick, or Snape pushing him down to suck on Snape's cock. It made focusing on a potion difficult when he was hard almost constantly, and when his mind perpetually wandered to fantasies that could never happen.

Annoyingly, the one person who would understand what it was like to want someone who didn't feel the same was Snape himself. But Harry couldn't bring himself to ask the older wizard to write about his own unrequited love. It was just all too weird.

Maybe one day he'll work out it's me he really wants, not my Mum.

But even that thought didn't give him much solace; it was just too unlikely that Snape, whose affection for Lily had been the driving force of his adult life, would shift that passion to her son.

And if he did, wouldn't it be a little creepy?

Harry wanted to believe he and Snape had a chance, but even he couldn't fool himself that really it hadn't been Lily who had driven Snape's actions, it had been Harry. Harry whom Snape had agreed to protect, Harry whom Snape had seemed obsessed with, Harry whom Snape had never been able to stop thinking about and criticising. It had been Snape who had said how like James Harry was, yet it had been Dumbledore who had pointed out the qualities that made Harry like his mother. And it had been Lily's qualities that Snape had loved.

Harry was surprisingly sanguine about this sudden unexpected revelation and tried not to let it affect his life, but that was impossible. The letter he had written to Snape had covered nearly five sides of standard size parchment and when it had gone off with Trouble he had fretted non-stop that somehow Snape would know. Then, when no reply came he fretted that Snape wasn't going to reply at all. The answer, when it did arrive, made Harry's heart leap and he read the words carefully, looking at the way Snape formed his letters, smiling at the spiky 'E' at the start of the epistle.

It was no time at all before June had bled into July. His birthday had come and gone with nary a whisper save for a card and gift from Hermione, and a letter from Snape that had wished him many happy returns of the day. It was all rather depressing to feel so bereft of love after having become somewhat accustomed to presents from Mrs Weasley and from Ron too. Still, he was an adult now and his birthday just another day that brought with it the challenge of going about his normal life whilst achingly hard.

August had raced away and suddenly, without warning, Harry was receiving a letter telling him to report to the Ministry of Magic by 9am to begin his Auror training in three days time.

He felt utterly dazed. He had been working towards this for so long, and he had started to feel it would never arrive, but now the day was here!

Of course, during the long break he had received a letter telling him his examination grades:

Ordinary Wizarding Levels

Pass Grades: Outstanding, Exceeds Expectations, Acceptable

Fail Grades: Poor, Dreadful, Troll.

Harry Potter has gained:

Ancient Runes O

Arithmancy E

Muggle Studies O

Nastily Exhausting Wizard Tests

Pass Grades: Outstanding, Exceeds Expectations, Acceptable

Fail Grades: Poor, Dreadful, Troll.

Harry Potter has gained:

Defence Against the Dark Arts O (BOH)

Potions O

Transfiguration O

Seeing the five Outstanding grades, Harry had felt his knees buckle. He had rushed into the kitchen and told Kreacher, dancing around the room and screaming his satisfaction to the world (well, to the little elf, anyway). Once his initial jubilation had ended he sat down and wrote to Snape and to Hermione. He knew she'd be interested in his exam results.

But now his grades letter was fading from his memory as he concerned himself with preparing for Auror training. He had no idea what he would need that first day so packed parchment, biro, and his invisibility cloak. His wand, of course, stayed on him.

He slept barely at all that night, and could hardly force down a few pieces of toast before he apparated to the Ministry's entrance. Going inside, he saw a large sign in the atrium:

Auror Training – follow the blue arrows

Doing as the sign said, Harry made his way down a corridor and into a large room filled with chairs all facing a raised dais. The room was big enough to seat well over two hundred people, and Harry wondered if there were that many trainees on the programme. Gradually the room filled up, not completely, but it held around seventy people ranging in age from just seventeen to around twenty-five.

Glancing idly around the room, Harry suddenly spotted a mop of red hair and recognised Ron by his walk. He hadn't seen Harry and settled down without sending any evil glares his way. Not long after Ron arrived, Neville shuffled in, looking delighted and a little as though he expected to be told that there had been a mistake. He spied Harry and smiled broadly at him before heading across the hall to the empty seat next to his friend.

On the stroke of 9, the doors were closed and a wizard appeared at the front of the room. It was Kingsley Shacklebolt. A few people whispered, surprised but pleased to see the Minister for Magic greeting them.

“Good morning,” Kingsley began in his slow, calm voice, “I am pleased to see so many witches and wizards who are interested in becoming Aurors. Especially as our numbers are so depleted after the war. That does not mean that we will be relaxing our standards as you are being trained, it just means that we have had to develop new ways of providing the education you all need to track and defeat dark magic users.

“Usually, Auror training has consisted of a short six week course to teach the basics, and then each trainee is partnered with an Auror to begin their three year apprenticeship. At various stages, the trainee has physical tests and written exams to pass. Failure of any results in the immediate termination of the training. This year, in these unusual circumstances, we have created an intensive course lasting around six months that will test the skills a good Auror needs. Once those are passed, to the required standard, we will accept you as an Auror. Of course, as a newcomer, you will be paired with a more experienced Auror and given simple missions at first.”

Kingsley paused. He looked around the room. Those wise eyes of his seemed to look directly at each person.

“Your training began at 9am. Three people have already failed as they arrived after the doors closed. They are now outside being told the bad news. Any one of you can fail your training that quickly. Never relax your guard.

“In a few minutes your trainers will arrive to begin. Each week you will be given points for each task you complete. At the end of each week, the trainees who have not attained the required number of points will leave the programme. Good luck!”

He stepped down and vanished. In his place two wizards stood. Both were tall and quite slender, but one wore bright blue robes whilst the other had a deep green outfit on.

“I hope that as many of you as possible make it through to become an Auror,” the blue wizard said, “but, in recent years, no-one has been taken on. Therefore do not think that just because we are low on numbers that we will forgive mistakes. We won't.”

“One thing we may do,” the green wizard said, “is award a special commendation to a trainee who consistently impresses us throughout training. This is a prestigious honour to receive as it is rarely awarded. Called the 'Future Auror Leader In The Making' or the 'FALIM', the last trainee to receive it was Kingsley Shacklebolt himself. From this, hopefully you can see just how difficult it is to gain this award and what a high honour it truly is. We are hopeful that this year there is an extra special candidate out there.”

Both wizards gazed out over the group, but Harry had the horrible idea they were both looking at him.

“Now,” the blue wizard took up the thread, “we'll begin today with the line test. It is a simple test of stamina. We will shortly go into one of the many gyms we use for training. There are two lines at either end of the hall. All you have to do is run from one line to the other before the line lights up in sparks. Each time you complete this, you will be given five fewer seconds to do the return length.”

Neville looked deeply unhappy. Physical fitness, especially co-ordinating his body, had never been his strong point. Harry didn't feel much happier. He hadn't done much at all in the way of exercise recently, unless you counted wanking as exercise.

The green-robed wizard walked to the very front of the hall and opened a door that hadn't been there before and lead the way out. The seventy or so students followed him, some very excited, all determined to pass, some feeling the pressure already, all focused on not embarrassing themselves.

The gym, when they reached it was a large space, empty except for the two wizards and the students.

“Now, as there are so many of you, you'll be doing this in groups. So, surname A to H to the line please. The rest of you wait well behind it. Make a note of the colour of the sparks when you don't cross the line in time. Make sure you tell me that colour when you are out.”

The green wizard went down the line and collected people's names. Once all had been written down (and one wizard told to leave because he had joined the wrong group) they stood on the line. Red sparks went off and the thirteen people ran to the line at the other end of the room. They all crossed it before yellow sparks went off. Turning, they ran back up the room when yellow sparks went off again.

And so it went on. Each time they ran and different coloured sparks went off at the opposite end. Finally, the group had all failed to cross the line.

“I to P please. Same for you. Tell me the colour you fail to complete.”

Harry stood next to Neville, feeling really nervous. What if he was out in the first round? How embarrassing would that be? And would that be a poor enough result to get him kicked out? The red sparks went off and he ran.

Harry was surprised to find that he was the last but one person to be out. He told the green wizard the colour he had failed to do (Yellow and Purple) and watched as the witch left made the next run, and only just failed to do the one after that.

The last group (Q to Z) went. Harry and Neville stood together watching Ron and the other trainees running up and down. A slight feeling of smug satisfaction went through Harry when Ron was out before him. No-one, though, was able to meet or best the witch in his group.

Now the blue wizard stepped forward. He waved his wand and a table appeared laden with fruit. “Grab a piece of fruit each and follow me.” he commanded, leading the way out of the gym and through a strange hole into the open air.

Harry picked up a pear and tucked it into his robe. The weird thing they passed through felt like travelling by floo, but he hadn't had to use floo powder nor say a destination.

Outside they were on a large field, surrounded by thick forest. The day was bright with scarcely any breeze. In the artificial lighting of the gym, time had not had meaning, so it was surprising to see the sun blazing and realise it was not yet midday. He let his head fall back, feeling the sun warm his face. It was glorious.

Several trainees sat on the grass and began eating their fruit, glad for the break and for the juice that eased their parched throats. Harry, Neville, and several other students didn't touch their fruit. They stood, watching the two wizards who were half way across the field and seemed to be conjuring small tables out of the air to place on the grass.

Neville gazed around at all the people who had eaten their snack. “Do you think we could?” he asked, indicating the apple he held.

Harry shook his head. “We weren't told we were having a break. We were just told to take a piece of fruit. If these people need that fruit for the next task, they aren't going to do very well, are they?”

Neville nodded. “That's what I thought. But I'm really thirsty.”

Harry conjured a glass and cast aguamenti into it. Neville drank and then Harry again filled the container and drank too. By the time they had finished, the two wizards were back.

“Right!” the blue wizard said, “Simple task. Over there,” he waved at the tables, “are tables with your names on. You need to find your table and just put your piece of fruit on it.”

He ignored the looks of dismay that several trainees shared. “Off you go!”

Feeling smug, Harry and Neville set off across the field. Once at the tables, Harry saw it wasn't going to be quite as easy as the wizard had presented it to be. Each table was labelled, but the label wasn't in English. Some, Harry recognised as runes, others he guessed were in Gobbledegook, as he thought some of the figures resembled ones he'd seen at Gringotts. One style of writing he had no idea what it was: it looked like waves and drops moving on the parchment. He guessed that it was Mermish.

The ones in runes he translated. After going from table to table he finally called Neville over. “That one's yours,” he said, pointing to one.

Neville put his apple down, the first person to complete the task. “Can't you find your table, Harry?” he asked, sounding worried.

“Not so far,” Harry answered grimly.

Beside him, a witch was translating one of the tables laboriously.

“Are you Melanie Wiggenweld?” he asked.

“No, Yolanda Wight, why?”

“Because that's the name on there.”

Melanie gave a cry and came forward, putting her banana skin on the table. “Thanks, Harry.”

Others gathered around Harry, asking him to help them, but he wasn't the only one there who could read other alphabets. One witch was reading the Gobbledegook and jerked her head at one table, her eyes fixed on Harry. He moved to her. “Is that mine?”

“Yes.”

He put his pear down and thanked her, then went back to helping people find their tables. At last seven people were left who all had Mermish writing.

“Why don't you get those tables and see if you can work out any possible letters?” Harry suggested. “That way you should be able to find your table then.”

The seven agreed and looked at the writing. Once they knew one another's names, they were able to work out some of the letters. “Look!” one wizard said excitedly, “Surely that must be an 'B'? We've got two people with names beginning with B – Beth and Brian - and these two both start the same way.” By careful logic, soon all of them were standing by a table.

Their two trainers and markers had watched them, making notes on their clip boards as they did. Now they approached and checked each person was in the correct place.

“Well done!”

The blue robed wizard led them back inside and they sat down and had lunch. Neville, Harry and Melanie sat together and chatted pleasantly. The people Harry had started to learn the names of flowed past him. He did notice, with a slight frisson of concern, that two witches, the woman who had said she wasn't Melanie Wiggenwald, and a witch from the group who had had to translate Mermish, were sitting close together and seemed to be having an intense conversation that clearly wasn't intended for other ears. It made him frown a little. What were they so obsessed about during this very first day of training?! Ron, Harry noted, looked sourly at Harry and seemed angry that Neville wasn't choosing to sit with him.

Although there was plenty on offer to eat, Harry didn't pig out too much. After all, if they had more running to do, he'd probably end up being sick if he ate too much.

Once they had been collected from the lunch hall, they were taken back into the first room they had gathered in. It was stiflingly hot. Sweat already beginning to prickle on his forehead, Harry removed his robe and sat on the end of a row, hoping he wouldn't be surrounded by people. Everyone settled in, quickly removing layers and fanning themselves.

“This afternoon we're going to talk to you about the basics of tracking down a dark magic user. There will be a test on this at some point so you are welcome to make notes.”

Harry pulled the parchment and pen out of one of the pockets in his cloak and tried to ignore the blistering heat and the still air that felt thick and heavy to breathe. He wrote a title and focused on the parchment, making steady notes as the lecture began.

It went on and on and on. Hour after hour of information, all of it helpful, but delivered in such a dull way that it wasn't long before people were almost dozing in their seats, especially those who hadn't got anything to write on. At one point Harry smacked his own cheek to wake himself up and focus more clearly. Another time he conjured a glass again and filled and re-filled it with water to ease his parched throat.

At last the speech ended and they were told, still in the same dull voice, that they were free to go home, but would need to be back ready to start again at 9am the following day.

Harry gathered up his cloak, vanished the glass and left. The others who had managed to remain focused left too. Around him, people were beginning to wake up, suddenly realising that they were free to go. As he walked back along the corridor heading towards the atrium, he saw a large poster covering one side of the hallway. On it were the names of the trainees, and already filled in were the points they had gained for the day's activities. Scanning along to find himself he read:

Line test: 16/20; Fruit task: 19/20; Lecture: 18/20.

Seeing that each task was out of twenty, Harry felt pleased. He wondered about Neville and Ron so looked at their results:

Longbottom, Neville: Line test: 14/20; Fruit task: 17/20; Lecture: 10/20.

Weasley, Ronald: Line test: 14/20; Fruit task: 6/20; Lecture: 8/20.

Harry's eyebrows rose. Ron wasn't doing well at all. Although Ron was angry with him, Harry didn't want Ron to fail, and these were not good scores. Hopefully, though, seeing them would make Ron try harder; he'd have to if he was serious about becoming an Auror.

Still pleased and surprised by his own high scores, Harry went to the atrium and from there back to his home.
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Harry Potter and the Expert Potions Master