The Marauders: Year Six #Wattys2017

The Results

"How'd you do?" Sirius asked, hesitating to open his.

"Did alright," Remus answered. "Three Os, four E's and an A. The A was in Divination."

Sirius smiled, "Three O's! -- Blimey. You got nearly every O.W.L., you bloody genius. And fuck Divination! It doesn't even count."

"Sirius Black! Language!" Mrs. Potter scolded him, but she was smiling, "Excellent job, Remus."

James was next. He beamed. "Well I'm not as good as Moony, but I'd say I've done well."

Mrs. Potter turned to look.

Potter, James C. - Ordinary Wizarding Level Results
Care of Magical Creatures - Acceptable
Charms - Exceeds Expectations
Defense Against the Dark Arts - Outstanding
Divination - Poor
History of Magic - Acceptable
Potions - Exceeds Expectations
Transfiguration - Outstanding

"I got what I need to become an Auror at any rate!" James announced, pumping his fist with excitement.

Mrs. Potter kissed his forehead, "Excellent job, James!"

Peter looked sick. "I didn't do so well."

"Let me see, Pete." Remus took the parchment from him and looked it over. "You didn't do terrible... Look, you got an outstanding..."

Pettigrew, Peter C. - Ordinary Wizarding Level Results
Care of Magical Creatures - Acceptable
Charms - Exceeds Expectations
Defense Against the Dark Arts - Poor
Divination - Outstanding
History of Magic - Dreadful
Potions - Acceptable
Transfiguration - Acceptable

"Yeah," Peter said, "But it's in Divination, which Sirius's just said doesn't count."

"Don't listen to Sirius. It counts." James said.

"Yeah don't listen to me, I'm an arsehole," Sirius said and Peter laughed even though his eyes were damp with tears.

Remus added, "You got five O.W.Ls total, Pete, that's very good." He patted Peter's back reassuringly.

"Thanks guys," Peter said. But he was glad his parents were very good at ignoring him - perhaps they wouldn't have to see his results at all.

They all turned to Sirius next and Sirius took a deep breath and opened the parchment up. He stared at it for a long moment.

"You're killing me with the suspense, Padfoot," Remus whined. "Read it."

Sirius cleared his throat.

Black, Sirius O. - Ordinary Wizarding Level Results
Care of Magical Creatures - Exceeds Expectations
Charms - Exceeds Expectations
Defense Against the Dark Arts - Exceeds Expectations
Divination - Troll
History of Magic - Dreadful
Muggle Studies - Troll
Potions - Exceeds Expectations....

He paused.

"BLOODY HELL MATE," James yelled, "READ THE FUCKING TRANSFIGURATION SCORE!"

Mrs. Potter smacked his head, "Language young man!"

"MUM. He's torturing us," James complained.

Sirius looked up from the parchment. His voice shook, "Transfiguration - Exceeds Expectations."

"Hey!!! You got the O.W.L.!!!" yelled Peter excitedly, "Good job, Sirius!"

"Yeah!! You did it mate!" James said and Remus got up and ran about to hug Sirius tight with excitement.

But Sirius stared at the parchment. "Guys, no. I needed Outstanding in order to keep studying in Minnie's class." He looked up. "I... I still failed."

"You didn't!" James said, "Exceeds Expectations is very good!"

Sirius stared at the parchment.

"She's just very picky about her N.E.W.T. level," Remus said, "It's not that you've done bad, it's that McGonagall has high bars to reach." He stroked Sirius's hair.

"I'm very proud of you, sweetie," Mrs. Potter said, kissing Sirius's forehead, just as she had done James's.

Sirius forced himself to smile, to cheer and celebrate like the others were, but there was a sinking feeling in his stomach - he was the only one who had gotten a troll at all. And not just one but two. Granted one of those had been in Muggle Studies which he had spent the last whole term staring at Remus Lupin in agony, pining for him, rather than doing any of his work... but still...

Honestly, the trolls weren't what was bothering him.

It was the E in Transfiguration.

The fact that he was no longer a student under Minerva McGonagall... that he'd never again sit in a class with his tie around his head, being scolded for not wearing his proper uniform... or lounge about with his legs up on the desk and he yelled at for leaning back his chair... that he couldn't ask her stupid questions like if she knew how to juggle or who her favourite Beatle was (which she never did answer, but he suspected it was because she knew he was a John and she was a Paul)...

She was his favorite professor... and he'd wasted his last term with her by being a little twatwaffle when all she'd ever done was care.