Ad Infinitum

Prologue: Graduation

June 7th, 1976

Albus Dumbledore smiled to himself as he surveyed the milling crowd of students and parents, all attempting to find seats in the packed Great Hall at the various house tables. This pleasant air of excitement and anticipation was a welcome change from the worry and fear that they had all been feeling for what seemed like an eternity. Eight years...but enough of that. For now, all he wanted was to enjoy this graduation as he had enjoyed countless others, as a student, as a teacher, and now as the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He felt a particular affection for this graduating class. These students were the seventh years that had been new at Hogwarts the same year he had taken the job as headmaster. It had been a completely different perspective, watching them grow as a whole, not concentrating solely on the Gryffindors--as he had been the head of their house--or on his Transfiguration classes. His eyes strayed to a small cluster of students standing, heads together, in the back corner of the hall, and he smiled again, watching them from his position in the center of the staff table. These were the students he had watched so carefully, students he had singled out as being destined for something special--these, and another, who was currently sitting sullenly at the Slytherin common table. Five students, plus the one. Dumbledore’s select few. Of course, he had been careful to avoid favoritism (a common teacher’s affliction, he had found) but he couldn’t help taking a personal interest in the futures of these six. Today, they would begin that future.

Albus considered one of the laughing young men standing there, James Potter. James, with his unruly black hair and bright blue eyes, James the Transfiguration expert (Dumbledore had always been slightly disappointed at not having the chance to teach this one in a classroom setting), James the Gryffindor Quidditch captain and who had been named Head Boy for his academic accomplishments and leadership ability, who nevertheless had an astounding capacity for creative mischief: Albus felt he couldn’t have been wrong in giving this one the attention he had. If it took him more than a year or two to master the Animagus transformation now that he was of age, the headmaster would be extremely surprised. He had put in an application to the Ministry of Magic to train as an Auror, or so he had told Albus the previous evening. It would be an excellent opportunity for him, and goodness knew they needed a few proper Aurors these days. Not far from him was his mother, smiling and proud as she watched him cracking jokes and earnestly discussing plans for after school with the other four students there. And as he shot carefully concealed, bashful looks at the girl standing next to him.

Lily Evans, the Head Girl and Ravenclaw prefect, radiant in the dress robes she must have just bought for the occasion. Really a very beautiful girl, Albus mused thoughtfully; especially those fascinating, bright green eyes James seemed so infatuated with. They would be such a wonderful couple if it ever occurred to James to do anything about it. Well, all good things come in time. Meanwhile, she was going in for training at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It would be an ideal position for her, talented and caring as she was, and she had plenty of experience. During the latter part of her seventh year, she had become a sort of apprentice to Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse. Lily could often be found hanging around the hospital wing, tending the myriad of illnesses and injuries that came her way under the watchful but approving eye of Madam Pomfrey. Most of which either directly or indirectly involved the handsome young man at her right.

Sirius Black had been James Potter’s partner in crime from the day the two of them were sorted into Gryffindor. Albus often suspected that the two of them were somehow responsible for nearly all the pranks and other odd happenings around the school. At the same time, Sirius was one of the most brilliant young men Albus had ever run into, with an astonishing--if unexpected and, on occasion, illegal--talent for invention. The headmaster remembered all too well the day he had chosen to show up on the Quidditch field riding a flying black motorbike he had apparently “fixed” himself. Naturally, Sirius had been reprimanded harshly, but only between barely controlled snorts of laughter on the part of Madam Hooch, who was in charge of the school Quidditch tournaments. He had also put in an application to the Ministry. Now that Albus came to think of it, a large number of the students in the graduating class had ambitions to become Aurors, probably due to the increasing threat to safety in the wizarding world with the steady rise of the Dark Arts. Nevertheless, only a limited number would be accepted for training. About one of the other students standing in the small group, however, Albus had no doubts.

When he became headmaster seven years previous, Albus Dumbledore had been faced with an extremely difficult decision. Remus Lupin had been eleven at that time, and he had also been a werewolf for six years. The Lupins had written to him to plead their boy’s case, and after careful deliberation, Albus had come up with a plan that would allow Remus to attend Hogwarts without foreseeable risk to himself or to other students. And so, for seven years, Remus had been taken out of the Hogwarts grounds to a secluded shack to transform every full moon. The Lupins had always been extraordinarily grateful to the headmaster for this reason, particularly Remus. He had shown little hesitation in confiding in Albus during the seven years he had attended the school, including informing him when his friends had finally discovered his well-kept secret, and when they chose to divulge it to Lily. This young man was his parents’ pride and joy, but Albus suspected that he had never allowed himself to believe that. Dumbledore knew that the Lupins were unable to have more children, and he also knew that Remus felt he had to somehow make up for the years of pain caused by his lycanthropy, which, besides his incredible self-motivation, was one of the reasons Remus had always put so much effort into his schoolwork--shy, intellectual Remus, who would suddenly come out of his shell and become self-confident and assured whenever he was around the younger students. He would, Albus reflected, make an ideal teacher, with his quiet manner, patience, and untapped talent. However, he had also chosen to apply for the Ministry as an Auror, and there was no question that he would be accepted--if the Ministry officials were open-minded enough to look beyond the prejudice and horror that Albus knew Remus would face.

This brought him to the last of the cheerful circle of students--the round, nervous little Peter Pettigrew. Peter had never been nearly as talented as the others had, although Albus was sure he would eventually come into his stride, if given the chance. Peter had always been something of a puzzle to the headmaster, refusing to come out from the protective barrier he had drawn up for himself--Sirius, Remus, and James. Peter was still a mystery.

The headmaster had always wondered whether it was a coincidence that his select group of students happened to be the only students at Hogwarts, as far as he knew, who were aware that Remus Lupin was a werewolf. It had been inevitable that Remus’ four best friends would eventually discover the truth, but Severus Snape had discovered it in a completely different manner. The Slytherin was, Albus knew, incredibly gifted at Potions, and also incredibly jealous of Sirius, Remus, Lily, and particularly James. Not too long ago, Sirius had deliberately let slip exactly where Remus disappeared off to every month, neglecting to mention the reason. No doubt out of curiosity and enmity, Severus had attempted to follow him one night. Fortunately for all concerned, James got wind of what Sirius had done, and managed to stop him in time. Dumbledore had been furious and, he maintained, rightly so. Severus had been sworn to secrecy, but the headmaster strongly suspected that he still harbored a grudge.

His thoughts were interrupted when the witch sitting next to him at the staff table cleared her throat loudly and rather impatiently. Albus started slightly, then glanced in appreciation at Minerva McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts. She was extremely talented, having just perfected the Animagus charm herself, but needed to loosen up a bit, Albus felt. Turning back to the situation at hand, he rose to his feet to acknowledge the parents and students who were watching him expectantly.

“Good afternoon to all of you,” he began in a somber voice. “I am absolutely delighted to see you here, especially considering the present circumstances. I would like to begin with a brief moment of silence in memory of the many Aurors and their families who lost their lives two days ago in the mass slaughter committed by the Death Eaters.”

Instantly, a hush fell over the great hall. After a moment or two had passed, Dumbledore looked up again and continued.

“On a more cheerful note, I want to thank you all--parents, students, and staff--for the past seven years. As you all know, seven years ago, while you students were just beginning your time at Hogwarts, I was beginning my time as headmaster of this school. These past seven years have been the most rewarding of my life. Thank you again for your continuing efforts, commitment, and enthusiasm. Now, for the presentation of the diplomas. Allow me to present Professor Sprout, Herbology teacher and head of Hufflepuff house.”

Albus waved his wand once and a podium materialized in front of the staff table, and then he moved to stand next to it. Professor Sprout walked up to the podium and picked up the scroll lying there. She smiled broadly at the audience and called out the first name. “Abressly, Megan!”

The headmaster joined in the applause as each of the Hufflepuffs walked up to the podium and accepted their diplomas, stopping periodically to shake vigorously each hand and smile at each glowing face. After the last student (“Wiverrtem, Adam!”) had come to the podium, Professor Sprout stepped back down and took her seat. Albus cleared his throat. “Professor Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor house!”

The din in the Great Hall was nearly deafening as “Black, Sirius!”, the first Gryffindor, stepped up to the podium, accepted his diploma, and grinned widely at the headmaster...and so it continued, until finally Dumbledore broke in. “Professor Sinistra, Astronomy teacher and head of Ravenclaw house!” The students filed past, one by one, leading up to “Professor Gregoram, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and head of Slytherin house!”

When all one hundred and twenty-two students in their brightly-colored dress robes had come by and one last round of applause was given, Albus cleared his throat once more. “Thank you all. We will now move on to the presentation of awards to the students, one for each of the classes taught here at Hogwarts, beginning with Ancient Runes.” Dumbledore always enjoyed this part of the graduation ceremony. As headmaster, he approved the selection of the honored students, but none of the students themselves knew beforehand who was to receive the awards. He made way at the podium for Jerome Lucass, a wiry little man with a thin voice.

“This award is to be presented to a student who has shown exceptional effort and dedication in the subject of Ancient Runes, as well as a great deal of accomplishment. Would Gryffindor’s Peter Pettigrew please come to the podium to receive his award?”

The Gryffindor table exploded, and a few of the students reached out to push the stunned Peter Pettigrew from his chair and in the direction of the staff table. With a look of frozen incredulity on his face, Peter staggered hesitantly to the podium and accepted his certificate and medal, nearly dropping them when he shook Dumbledore’s hand. Sirius leapt up to the table as he approached to shake his hand even more vigorously, grinning widely at Peter’s delight and surprise.

The awards moved on, until they came to Charms. Professor Flitwick stepped up to the podium, frowned, and levitated himself several feet into the air so he could see the audience. “The student we have selected to receive the award for Charms has demonstrated a great ability in this field and chosen to apply her talents far beyond the usual classroom expectations. Will Ravenclaw’s Lily Evans please step forward to receive her award?”

Lily did so, blushing at the crowd’s appreciative applause, and the awards moved on. Defense against the Dark Arts was taken by Remus Lupin (to no-one’s surprise, but to Severus Snape’s apparent resentment), earning one of Professor Gregoram’s rare smiles of approval. Sirius Black recieved an award for Herbology, Snape took Potions (accepting the medal and certificate with his customary indifference), and, finally, James Potter was announced recipient of the award for Transfiguration. As Professor McGonagall took her seat, Albus stood behind the podium and raised a hand to quiet the thunderous applause.

“Thank you all,” he said with a smile, “and congratulations to the recipients of each of the various awards. We have two more events on the program, and those are the traditional speeches to be delivered by the graduating Head Boy and Girl. Once again, I would like to invite Lily Evans to come to the podium.”

Lily’s speech was typical of her dynamic personality--humorous, witty, but also obviously heartfelt--and was well recieved by the audience. She thanked in turn the staff, teachers, parents, and other students who “made my years at Hogwarts what are likely to be the best of my life.” When her speech was done, she stepped down from the podium to make way for James. Dumbledore didn’t miss the quick wink the young man threw back towards Sirius, Remus, and Peter as he stood up from the Gryffindor table.

The speech began on an unusually serious note. James commented on the “dark days” that were before them, but expressed confidence in the wizarding community’s ability to come together to face them. He credited much of this ability to the teachers, staff, and atmosphere they had all been surrounded with during their years at Hogwarts. He went on in this vein for some time, and, at the conclusion of a rather lengthy list of the attributes that Hogwarts had infused in the students (including responsibility, camaraderie, and morality), paused, looking the headmaster directly in the face. Dumbledore sighed. He’d been waiting for something like this, and the glint in James’ eye suggested that whatever plan he’d concocted was about to be realized. He looked back out at the expectant crowd and continued, “and that is why, ladies and gentlemen, I have decided to offer this tribute to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!” These last few words were shouted, and James raised his wand in the air. Instantly, the whole room was showered in multicolored sparks, all sizzling loudly and cracking, drowning out the shrieks from the house tables. By the time the smoke and the sparks had cleared, James was nowhere in sight, but everyone else began to applaud and laugh enthusiastically.

“Thank you all!” Albus called over the clamor. “Students may return to their house common rooms and dormitories to pick up their luggage and other belongings. Again, we wish all of you the very best of luck in your future endeavors.” He sat back down at the staff table, waiting for the hall to be cleared. Nearby, James materialized abruptly, whipping off a silvery cloak that he had been concealing inside his robes. Lily, Remus, Peter, and Sirius were running from their tables to congratulate him. Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, watching, obviously torn between disapproval and hilarity. She eventually gave in and walked over to offer her congratulations as well. Dumbledore stepped around his chair to join them.

“Well done,” he said in an amused voice. James grinned broadly. “Where did you manage to obtain that many Filibuster’s Fireworks?”

“We bought out Zonko’s on the last Hogsmeade weekend, Professor,” Sirius explained, looking very pleased with himself.

“Ah,” Albus replied. “As I thought. I must be going now, but good luck to you all. I have a feeling we will be seeing each other again very shortly.”

He set off for his office, trying to ignore the unintentionally ominous sensation his words had caused.