Mr. Fletcher was bouncing so hard that part of Gus wondered if he was about to fly through the ceiling. That would be terrible and really, he didn't want to deal with the aftermath of that, so it was lucky that it didn’t actually happen. Gus hummed in agreement that summer was decent, ignoring the fact that he’d lost his best friend in a freak greenhouse collapse and then celebrated his first wedding anniversary alone because his wife died three months into their marriage.

Gus let out a short sigh. Mr. Fletcher looked so… hopeful and he really hated to let him down. “Mr. Fletcher…” he began, although stopped short because he wasn’t really sure how to break the news to him – Gus was, in fact, surprised to see that the Gryffindor had decided to continue on with his NEWTs after all. “I’m going to be honest with you. Your OWL grade wasn’t high enough to continue.” Inwardly he winced. This was a terrible conversation to be having.

“And I know it’s not what you want to hear because I know you put some amount of effort in. You’re not incapable, Mr. Fletcher. When you remember to use your head, you’re actually quite sharp.” Gus tried to smile at him before he continued. “But Defense Against the Dark Arts demands consistency, not flashes of attention when you find there isn’t anything better to distract you. Surely have other classes on your timetable this term?”

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