The Last Days at Hogwarts

The entire wizarding world had been celebrating for the past several days now - at least, if the headlines in the Prophet had been anything to go by. Exams had meant any celebration at Hogwarts had been subdued, but he imagined that once they were over, there would be some riotous parties. Harry and the others had been too tired to celebrate just yet.

And one of the reasons that everyone was so happy was that Voldemort had been defeated seemingly without anyone else being hurt. Well, that wasn't true now. To have overcome and overwhelmed the mind of a creature like Voldemort had needed all their combined mental powers. It wasn't surprising that Susan had ended up hurt.

But what was he, Harry, going to do? Susan had been his girlfriend. It was ironic - he had warned her six months ago that going out with him might not be a good idea. But he had been more worried about the effect on her of him being killed or injured. Now it was the other way round. He had come through unscathed; it was she who had been injured.

And he knew, in his heart of hearts, that whatever Susan felt for him, he didn't feel for her. He liked Susan - she was fun, she was ... well, sexy. But he knew love was more than that. He wasn't sure what 'being in love' was like - but whatever it was, that wasn't how he felt about Susan. So what was he going to do now?

Slowly he made his way up to the Tower and stood in front of the Fat Lady. He did his best to summon a smile and say to her: "Snitch!" (Ron was back in charge of passwords, to everyone's relief) and get a smile back from her. The Common Room was empty, as was the dormitory. He had no idea here Ron had got to, but wasn't sure he wanted to talk to anyone at the moment. He flopped down on his bed and drew the curtains, staring at the canopy above him.

His sleep that night had been punctuated with dreams. Not dreams as in days gone by, but more conventional nightmares - if a nightmare can ever be conventional. Each time he woke, he could hardly remember the detail of the dream, only the feeling of dread it had left behind. He made his way out of the Hall after breakfast the next morning, still tired after his disturbed night, and stopped in the entrance hall, by the doors, in the same place he'd stood a few nights ago. He gazed sightlessly into the bright sunshine, his mind a blank for the moment.

"Harry."

He turned - Hermione was a pace or two behind him.

"Oh, hi."

She was looking at him very intently. Then she took a look round the entrance hall before stepping forward and taking his arm.

"Come on. We're going for a walk."

"Okay," he said, surprised. "If you say so."

"I do."

They went out into the sunlight and down the stairs. Hermione led the way down to the lake, to the spot where they sat in the sun before. She squatted on a rock, looked up at him, and said: "Aren't you going to sit down?"

"Oh, yeah, right."

It was peaceful there, watching the water, ruffled by the breeze.

Hermione broke the silence. "I heard about Susan."

"Really?"

"Yes. Harry, look at me."

He turned, and she was staring at him very intently. "You're going to do something noble, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?" he protested.

"Your 'saving people' thing."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"With Susan."

"What about her?"

Hermione began ticking off points on her fingers.

"One. Susan's your girlfriend. Two. She's been hurt in the struggle with Voldemort. Three. You're feeling guilty about it all."

"How do you know that?"

"From watching you at breakfast just now."

"Well, even if I do feel guilty, so what?"

"Because you might try and do something stupid."

"Like what?"

"Like come over all noble. Promise to look after her."

"So what if I do want to look after her?"

Hermione sighed. "When would you stop looking after her?"

Harry picked up a stone, pitched it into the lake, and watched the ripples spread out.

"So what? That's my business."

"Maybe. But the snag is that it won't work."

"Why not? Look, I know Susan loves me."

"I know. I could feel that in her mind at the time - when we were all sort of joined together."

"So I just abandon her? Because she's crippled?"

"Susan loves you. But do you love her?"

"I - what do you mean?"

"Do you love her?"

"Of course I do." He didn't even convince himself. Hermione didn't say anything - she didn't have to.

"Anyway, what does that matter?" he asked.

Hermione sighed again. "It matters for all sorts of reasons. Let's look at some scenarios."

She started ticking them off on her fingers.

"One. All right, you take her on. But it's not her you love. You meet someone else. But it's too late to leave her then.

"Two. You take her on. But gradually you resent having to look after her. You begin to hate her. So you have to try harder and harder. And that makes you hate her more.

"Or three. She comes to realise you don't love her, and what she's doing to you. And then she tries to be all noble.

"Whatever. It just won't work, Harry."

"You've been reading too many Muggle romances. Or Victorian novels."

"Have I, Harry?"

She was looking at him very intently.

"But I can't just - well, abandon her."

"It's not a question of abandoning - but whether you're prepared to tie yourself for the rest of your life to someone you have to nurse, and look after, and don't love."

"It wouldn't be like that."

"How would it be?"

Harry was silent. He knew he was boxed in by Hermione's argument, but that didn't change how he felt about things.

Hermione must have sensed this, because she went on: "You don't have to do anything about it now. You can give it time."

"But Susan's lying there in the hospital wing. I can't not visit her. And what do I say to her?"

"You don't have to say anything."

"If I don't say anything, then that's the same as rejecting her. She's not stupid."

"I know that. She's bright enough - maybe not academically, but she can do magic well enough. And she's good at reading people."

"I know. That's the trouble. She'll realise soon enough if I'm holding out on her."

"There's a world of difference between helping someone and supporting them and taking them on as a full time commitment."

"I realise that. But whatever I decide to do, there's no way I can hide it from her. She's going to see straight through any fudging on my part."

It was Hermione's turn to throw a pebble into the lake.

"Right then. I've said what I had to say. You're going have to come to some sort of decision in the next few hours. I'll leave you in peace to think about it."

She stood up and started making her way up the slope.

"Hermione ..."

But she carried on walking up the slope back to the castle.

Well, Harry, he thought to himself, time to face up to reality. He still had no idea of what he was going to say to her, but he thought it was time to go to visit Susan again.

He stood up. Hermione had already disappeared. Slowly he made his way back to the castle, enjoying the sunshine whilst he could. Then it was into the gloom of the stone walls. He'd never noticed before how gloomy they could be on a day like this.

At least the light was streaming through the windows of the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen, so he went along to her study and knocked.

"Come in."

He put his head round the door. "Sorry to bother you ..."

"Come in properly." He did as he was told. "And close the door behind you." She looked at him for a long moment. "It's about Susan, isn't it?" He nodded. "There's not an awful lot more I can tell you. She's being transferred to a specialist unit in St Mungo's this afternoon. If you want to talk to her, this may well be your last chance for a little while."

"Oh. Right. Well, if I could ..."

"Of course. Go along and see her."

As he approached the bed, he stopped for a moment, took a deep breath then ducked under the curtains.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Susan was sitting propped up by pillows, a book open in front of her.

He sat down beside her and took her hand. "I hear they're moving you."

"That's right."

"What do they say?"

She pulled a face. "Not a lot. 'Nerves are tricky things'. They're even thinking of using some Muggle techniques - physiotherapy, is it called?"

"Oh, yeah. It's supposed to help a lot."

What to say next? He tightened his grip on her hand, took another deep breath, and was just about to say something when:

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"You're hurting me."

"Oh." He released her hand as though it were red hot, then picked it up again more gingerly.

Susan was looking at him more intently now.

"Harry - I don't know what you're going to say, but I've something to tell you."

"Oh?"

"That night ..." she swallowed and stopped for a moment. "Well, you know how our minds sort of melded together?" Harry nodded silently. "In lots of ways it was good - I mean, working together like that. Dumbledore helping us. And not just you and me, but the others too." Harry wasn't sure where this was leading yet. "I could feel your mind. And more than that, if you know what I mean. And I realised something. That you liked me. A lot. But that was all it was. Nothing more than that. It's cruel, isn't it, seeing someone else's mind so clearly?"

There was the glint of tears in her eyes.

"Susan ..."

But she rode over whatever he was going to say.

"You see, you can't be fooled at a time like that. I'm not blaming you or anything - you can't help how you feel for someone.

"This afternoon they're taking me away to St Mungo's. Please, Harry, don't visit me there. Not for a few weeks, anyway."

"I can't just let you go like that!"

She looked at him steadily. "Yes, you can, Harry. You must. It won't work. For either of us."

"You need looking after."

"And I've a family who'll do that."

"But you need more than that."

"True. But from love, not from pity."

Those last words were in some ways the cruellest - because they were true.

"It needn't be like that. Give it time."

But she shook her head. "No, Harry." He could see the tears on her cheeks. "Go. Go now."

"No."

She pulled her hand from his.

"Go. Please, for my sake."

He was at the top of the Astronomy Tower when Ron and Hermione found him. He didn't know long they'd been there when he became aware of their presence. They didn't say anything, but moved forward, Ron at one elbow, Hermione at the other. The wind ruffled his hair as he stared across the lake.

Finally: "They're going to be celebrating tonight, aren't they?"

Hermione nodded. "Exams are over."

And the other matter too.

"Well, we'd better go down and join the celebrations, hadn't we?"

Ron looked at him carefully, but just said: "Yeah."

McGonagall had brought the end of term feast forward a day. Harry had managed to slip in to the Hall as part of a crowd and made it to his seat almost unnoticed. Indeed, there was such pandemonium that he thought no one would have noticed if he'd flown in on a hippogriff. And unusually, all the House banners were flying.

Harry made his way through his supper mechanically: it was, after all, something to occupy him. When eventually everyone seemed to have finished, Professor McGonagal stood up. It took her quite some time to get everyone's attention.

Finally: "Thank you all. Now, I know Professor Dumbledore would have liked to have been here tonight, but although he is still confined to bed, I did speak to him briefly this afternoon and he sends his best wishes to you all."

The Hall erupted, and it took several more minutes before it fell quiet again.

"I am breaking with tradition now. I should be awarding the House Cup, but I do think too much has happened this year to single out any one House. I would like to think you all deserve a share in the cup."

This had a slightly mixed reception: Ravenclaw had had a very slender lead in the points system, but they knew that if any more points had been awarded to Gryffindor after the recent events, they would have lost. There were those on the Gryffindor table who felt the Cup should have come their way, but many shrugged their shoulders. This celebration was about more than just House points.

"And before I sit down, I would like to thank those students who were involved in the events of the other evening."

The Hall erupted again. There was a great deal of banging and cries of 'Potter' - even from the Slytherin table. Harry felt Hermione tugging his sleeve.

"Stand up," she was hissing at him.

He knew the din would not subside until he did, so he got to his feet then stood on the table. The row was almost overwhelming, and Professor McGonagal was doing nothing to calm things. He reached down, and tugged at Hermione, then Ron, then Dean, until eventually they had joined him. He held up his hands, and, very slowly, things subsided.

He reached down for a mug.

"Please stand," he called out.

There was a great rumble of benches being pushed back.

"Take your glasses. I propose: Professor Dumbledore!"

A great rumble. "Professor Dumbledore!"

"Our teachers - all of them!"

There were some good humoured derisive noises but: "Our teachers!"

"And finally," Harry called, "Susan Bones, and the loyalty of Hufflepuff."

The Hufflepuff table erupted, and Harry saw even the Slytherins drinking to Susan. He only wished she had been there to see it.

He climbed down. People were crowding round him, and he nodded and smiled, and smiled until his face ached as much as his heart.

Breakfast the next day was a very subdued affair. The feast had been brought forward, and so they had a free day with no lessons before going home and leaving Hogwarts for the last time. No one had got up early that morning, and the Hall was only half full when Harry went down, with people drifting in and out.

Harry sat himself down opposite Ron and Hermione and tucked into his porridge. Very little was said until Ron asked:

"What are you going to do now?"

Harry's mind went blank for a moment until he realised that Ron was talking about the future; about what he would do when he left Hogwarts.

"Still going to be an Auror?" Ron went on.

Harry thought about this. "Dunno," he said finally. "No idea at the moment. It can keep for a little while yet."

Ron hesitated. "I had an owl yesterday."

"Oh?"

"From Gringotts. They have a security department - doing more than Troll keeping, I mean. You can imagine they have all sorts of problems with people trying to break in using magic, all that kind of thing."

"They've offered you a job?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah."

"You're going to take it?"

"It's well paid. Thing is, I don't want to start straight away. They're happy for me to take a month or two off first."

"Sounds good. What about you, Hermione?"

She looked up from her scrambled eggs. "I was talking to Professor Vector about that algemancy idea yesterday. She thinks it could really come to something. So I've applied to the Research Department at Gringotts. Professor Vector's going to give me a covering letter explaining what it is I want to do. But I want to start on it as soon as I can - while it's fresh in my mind."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I can see that."

Ron looked sideways at Hermione, then stabbed at his empty plate with his fork. "Thing is, before I start work - I'd like to - well, I dunno. Travel or something."

Harry knew what one of the problems might be. "But you need funds."

Ron reddened slightly. "Yeah. But don't even think ..."

"You know the TriWizard Tournament?"

They both blinked at him.

"Yeah?" said Ron slowly.

"If it hadn't been for the mad Crouch, I'd never have had a chance. He made sure I won. And I got a thousand Galleons for that. Which I gave to Fred and George."

"So?"

"Well, they've been doing really well, and they've insisted on paying it back. But it's blood money - Cedric's blood." There was a moment's silence."I'm never going to spend it. Give to St Mungo's, whatever. Or loan it to my best friend."

Ron stabbed his plate again with his fork. "Do I want blood money?"

"Either that or I give it away. And you can always repay me when you're earning a fortune at Gringott's."

Ron smiled briefly. "Yeah. As if."

"Come on, Ron," said Hermione. "You've talent enough. You'll soon get promotion on your own merits."

"I suppose." He finally put the fork down. "Can I think about it?"

"Sure."

"Anyway, what about the next few days? Do you want to come and stay at the Burrow? Mum says it was heaving with reporters, but they've all cleared off now."

Harry thought about this. "Okay. Sunday?"

"Yeah. Sounds good."

"What are you lot talking about?" Dean had sat down next to Harry.

"What we're going to do next."

"Easy," said Dean, tucking into bacon and eggs. "Me - I'm starting at Ollivander's on Monday."

"Full time?"

"Yep."

"I must go along and thank him for what he did for me."

"Yeah - it would be good to see you there."

"What'll we do today then?" asked Ron.

"See Hagrid?"

"Not a bad idea. Up for that, Hermione?"

She nodded.

The last day passed in a haze of goodbyes - to Hagrid ("You'll come and visit me now, won't you?"), Professor McGonagall ("I'm sure you're going to be a credit to us when you leave"), Professors Sprout and Flitwick ("I think I'll pass on Snape," Ron said), and all their friends in the other Houses. The Hufflepuffs were very grateful for their mention by Harry the night before.

If the truth were to be told, they were really all too tired to celebrate too much that evening. The others had just finished exams, and the weeks of revision had left them exhausted. Next morning they stood on the steps outside the school, enjoying the sunshine, and waited for the carriages. Harry had mixed feelings as he stood looking up at the old stone walls: Hogwarts had been like a home to him, but he knew what Dean meant: he had outgrown it now.