Three Cheers for Our Side

23 June 2000; Loch Tay Regional Combined School; near Killin, Stirling, Scotland, UK
.
Ken takes a deep, deep breath, slouches through the door of Mister Fairbairn's office.
"Take a seat, Mister Gorman."
"Th-that bad, huh?" rasps Ken, creeping over to the guest chair in front of the battleship desk and perching.
"I would actually call them 'better than expected' overall," says Mister Fairbairn, holding out a thin envelope.
Ken scoffs quietly, accepts the paperwork with his fingertips. He takes a deep breath, then eases it open and skims the results of his four-five exams.
Winces.
"We were expecting that one, lad."
"Still stings," grumps Ken.
"Of course."
Ken flips the sheet, reads on.
Dreamboy pads over, rests his chin on the arm of Ken's chair.
Ken absently scratches his ears.
Dreamboy wags his tail, low and slow.
Ken sighs, looks up.
Mister Fairbairn smiles, says, "It was certainly worth the hard work you put into preparing for the exams, given how much you improved over the year."
"Not enough, though." Ken flicks the paper onto the desktop, sulks into the cushions. "I still failed."
"You didn't pass general spellcraft, hexes, protective spells, or divination, /but you did potion-brewing and your score was only a few points below the cut-off in general spellcraft."
"Still failed."
Mister Fairbairn /barely doesn't roll his eyes. "On a positive note, Missus Hughes informs me you could easily pass the first-level Truth-sayer's certification exam, should you wish to sit it."
"Really?"
Mister Fairbairn nods, expression earnest. "You'll also note you passed all the non-applied-magic tests you undertook, which means you can continue on to Highers if that's your desire."
"O-okay." Ken chews his lip.
"I spoke with your father recently and he told me you've made great progress in your apprenticeship."
Ken swallows, heart sinking.
Dreamboy shifts, licks his hand. 
"So, all things considered, it's been a very productive Year Five for you." Mister Fairbairn sits back. "Have you given any thought to what's next?"
"N-not really. I was focusing on the exams." Ken rubs the back of his head, exhales shakily. "I'll think about it over the break. Talk to my family. That sorta thing." Shrugs.
"May I offer some food for thought?"
"Sure," sighs Ken.
"Results like these are /exactly what I want to see from students bound for uni. Continuing with us, sitting Highers, and then reading an appropriate subject—I suspect education would suit you /particularly well—at university would allow you to make the most of your talents and put you in a position to earn the stable income your desire for a happy family and home requires."
Ken hangs his head, mumbles, "I-I'll think about that, sir."
Dreamboy forces his head into Ken's lap, wags a bit harder.
"Mister Gorman?"
Ken peeks.
"You did brilliantly on your exams. I'm very proud of you, lad."
Ken focuses on Dreamboy's nose. "Th-thanks, sir. I tried."
"You /succeeded, Ken. Be proud of yourself."
"I'll try, sir."
"That's all I can ask." 
Dreamboy edges further into Ken's space.
Mister Fairbairn snickers. "I mean, it's not as though I can command you to have more self-respect."
Ken sighs.
Dreamboy /woffles.
"I /could, however, test a little potion called 'the Flowering Narcissus' on you. It's supposed to double one's self-esteem in twenty minutes."
"I think I'll, um, pass."
"Suit yourself." Mister Fairbairn sighs, murmurs, "I was /so hoping to try that one out ...."
Dreamboy shoves his front half into Ken's lap, aims for his cheek with a slobbery tongue.
Ken bars his approach, leans out of licking range.
"Stop that, Boy. You're trying to take Miss MacDonald's job."
Ken blushes, gives the dog another gentle push.
Dreamboy huffs, drops all his feet to the floor.
"What questions do you have for me, Mister Gorman?"
"Uh, nothing r-right now, sir."
"Then I don't need to keep you any longer. Go tell Miss MacDonald and the rest of your family the good news."
"Yes, sir." Ken pokes Dreamboy with a foot. "'scuse me."
Dreamboy backs off a few paces, a tad sheepish.
"Thanks." Ken pushes to standing.
Dreamboy /whuffs, wags.
"Thank you, too, sir."
Mister Fairbairn inclines his head. "You're very welcome. Off with you, now."
"Yes, sir." Ken sketches a wave, turns—
""Don't forget your results.""
—spins back around, snatches the paper from the desk, bows, scuttles out into—
"Hi!"
—Murron's chest.
She links their arms, steers him down the corridor to the waiting area, plops him on the sofa in front of the merrily crackling fireplace.
Ken shakes his head clear.
"What?"
"Still getting that weird kid-mind feeling off Dreamboy. It's kinda ... weird."
"If /that's what's bothering you, does that mean your results're good?"
Ken shrugs.
Murron leans against him. "How'd you do?"
Ken passes over the score sheet.
"Thank you~!" Murron reads.
Ken oozes lower, lets his head fall back.
Murron turns over the paper.
The fire crackles behind the embroidered screen.
Ken traces the grain of the ceiling beams with his eyes.
"You passed potion-brewing!"
Ken grunts.
"Oh my Goodness!" squeaks Murron.
"What's wrong?"
"Your maths!"
"Uh, I thought I did—"
Murron tackles him into the cushions, doesn't quite bonk his head against the arm. "You got the highest score you can get!"
"Umm, yea?"
"That's so cool! You're so smart!"
"It's just maths. Nothing important like spellcraft."
"Even /Lessie didn't do this well and she's a basically a genius."
"She's already gone?"
"Mhm! She passed /everything—but her maths weren't as good as yours—and dragged Royal out to talk about living in Glasgow."
Ken rolls his eyes. "Not wasting any time, is she?"
"Nope!"
Ken sighs.
Murron releases her hug, takes a double-fistful of Ken's jumper, tows him to sitting.
After a moment, his eyes un-blur.
Murron scowls at him.
"What'd I do?" he squeaks.
"You said spellcraft was more important than maths."
"Around here it sure is."
"In magic classes maybe."
"That's kinda the thing, yea? I've got so little magic I might as well've gone to a city school 'stead of a combined one. The whole magic thing's kinda pointless for me."
Murron frowns. "You wouldn't have met me then."
"Yea, okay, th-that be bad and I'm glad I /did wind up here, but." Ken takes a deep breath, exhales. "It's not like I can make a living as a witch—not the way my magic works. I'd have been better off not wasting all this time."
Murron glowers.
"Wish I was an /actual witch, but—" Ken gestures helplessly. "—I'm not."
She leans in until their noses touch. "So you /cheated to pass potion-brewing and Missus Hughes is /lying about you being a truth-sayer?"
"N-no, b-but—"
"Then you're a witch."
"But—"
"No 'but's."
Ken hangs his head.
Murron bumps her forehead against his.
He raises an eyebrow.
"Will you keep working with Missus Hughes?"
"Yea ... especially now that she's mentioned this Nudging thing I might be able to do."
"Changing someone's mind?"
Ken controls a cringe. "P-pretty much. Make 'em decide the way I want without 'em noticing."
Murron shudders.
"Scares the flip outta me, too. I wish she /hadn't mentioned it. Now I worry all the time I'm doing it accidentally. Like, I'm forcing people to like me and—"
"We really like you. Stop worrying."
Ken huffs.
"We really do."
Ken heaves a sigh.
Murron tucks up under his arm.
Ken melts into her.
"Have you decided what you're going to do next year?"
"Not yet."
She side-eyes. "But you've been thinking about it."
"Kinda?" Ken rubs the back of his neck.
"So ...?"
"Well, I ...." He sighs to a stop.
Murron presses closer.
Ken clears his throat, mumbles, "I don't know what I should do."
"What do you /want to do?"
"I feel like I should—"
"I asked what you /want."
"I should stop with school and go to work with my da. We could use the money."
Murron frowns. "I thought things were good after that library made a deal with him."
"The money's steady now, yea, but what happens when all the books are fixed?"
"Wouldn't your helping mean he'll finish faster? Run out of guaranteed work?"
Ken blinks rapidly. "Oh. I hadn't thought about it like that."
Murron beams. "So, you'd actually be helping /more if you stayed in school and only working with your da over holidays." She sits straighter, glows even more brightly. "You'll even /save them money because the School pays for your food and clothes and supplies and laundry while you're here!"
Ken breaks out in a grin. "You're /totally right. What I /should do is stay here—with you—and get ready for my Highers—/oof!"
Murron squashes him, buries her face against his neck. "Thank you thank you thank you! I'm so happy you'll be staying!"
""He's /staying?!"" cheers Mattia, piling onto Ken's back. 
"I can't breathe!"
"He's staying!"
""This is happy news! I am so very, very happy!""
"Can't! breathe!"
"If you can talk, you can breathe," sniffs Tobi, stuffing himself in beside them.
"He's right," adds Aurelie, plunking down on the rug.
The pressure on Ken's chest lets up enough for him to fill his lungs.
"I hate you all," he wheezes.
Murron scoffs, assures, "He's lying."
"Are you a truth-sayer, too?" asks [newbie].
"No, I just know Ken."
""Three cheers for Ken for two more years!""
Murron squeezes him again as everyone hollers
Ken sighs, rests his head on Murron's soft shoulder.