Mentors

Mentors

Chapter 7: Too Many Long Goodbyes

* * * * * * *

The afternoon in the Gryffindor common room was a very restrained and unusually quiet affair. Small groups of students sat around sipping their butterbeers and speaking in hushed tones. Even the Weasley twins couldn’t marshal up the energy for any raucous celebrations.

“Are things any better between Percy and your Dad?” Harry whispered to Ron so that only he, Hermione, and Ginny could hear.

“Yeah, I think so. It’s a bit like walking on eggshells right now, though; nerves are still kinda raw.”

“And how are you two feeling?” asked Hermione.

“Okay, I suppose,” said Ginny. Ron just shrugged.

George had brought the remnant of the joke wand that Voldemort had tried to use against Harry back from the Ministry and he handed it to Fred. Only the badly charred handle remained.

“Why did it explode like that?” asked Colin Creevey.

“We had never tested it with any of the Unforgivable Curses,” said George.

“For obvious reasons,” added Fred.

Professor McGonagall came back down the boys’ staircase after retrieving the forgotten hospital brooms that Neville and his parents flew in on from the top of the tower. Spotting Neville sitting silently in a corner with a butterbeer in his hands she asked, “Are you staying for dinner?”

“What? Oh, no, I don’t think so. I — Actually I should probably be getting back to the hospital.”

Min, who had been standing near the entrance hole as though he was impatient to leave, raised his eyebrows at Harry and then nodded toward Neville. He did it once more and Harry then realized what he wanted. “Why not stay, Neville?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, it’ll be great,” said Ron. “It’s your last night here and —”

“No, I really should be getting —”

“It’s okay, Neville,” said Min. “You’ll see your parents in the morning. I’ll go back and look in on them. Spend some time with your friends.”

Neville’s face showed a glimmer of excitement at the prospect. “Okay. But if Gran thinks I should come back tonight …”

“I’ll ask, but I don’t think that will be necessary. I’ll see you tomorrow. Until next time,” he said as he bowed to the room.

Many in the room said, “’Bye,” but Harry shot up out of his chair and hurried over. He shook Min’s hand.

“Thanks for coming for us. I owe you a lot.”

“No, you don’t. In fact I believe I, along with everyone else, am in your debt. May I speak with you briefly?” he asked. “In private?”

“Sure.” And Harry followed Min out through the portrait hole. A minute later, Harry climbed back through.

“Oy! Fred!” Ron shouted across the room. “How did you two and Lee know there was something going on at school?”

“Well, Lee was making …” Fred began before he caught himself.

Professor McGonagall finished his sentence for him. “… another surreptitious nighttime delivery of your Weasley Whizzing Thingies?”

“Erm. Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes,” George corrected. “Yes, ma’am. And Lee wanted to visit a friend, too,” he offered, apparently trying to change the subject, at which point Lee elbowed George hard in the ribs.

“A certain … Ravenclaw friend?” McGonagall asked knowingly, which caused Lee’s eyes to grow very wide.

“But students weren’t the only ones buying from us; Professor Dumbledore had placed an order before too!” Fred offered, evidently fearing a possible loss of access to their largest customer base. “He special-ordered the wand.”

“Well, we may have to have a little chat about any more nighttime visits, boys.”

“Did you two fly here all the way from London on your brooms?” asked Dean Thomas.

“No, we had Floo-ed into Hogsmeade earlier in the day to talk some business with the owners of Zonko’s. Lee came back down from visiting his … friend and said someone was attacking the castle, so we borrowed some brooms and flew up to the school,” said George.

“By the way, Percy,” said Harry, “I never did say ‘thanks’ for your help. So … ‘Thanks!’”

Percy walked over to Harry a bit tentatively. His broken jaw was now fixed, but his voice still sounded a bit nasally. “Erm. Listen, Harry, I’m sorry for the things I’ve said about you. I —”

“It’s okay,” Harry responded dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, no, it was very unfair of me. Thank you for what you did. It was really quite amazing.” Harry could tell how incredibly uncomfortable Percy was, and so just nodded. “I suppose I’ll see you at work, then.” Professor McGonagall left the room and Percy followed after her, apparently returning to work to begin piecing the Ministry back together.

“You know, Harry,” began George, walking over to Harry as he watched Percy leave, “you’re a really nice bloke. …”

“Nauseatingly so,” added Fred.

“… But due to your upcoming employment I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask that a certain … item be returned before you depart.”

“What item?” asked Harry quizzically.

“The one we gave to you in your third year,” said Fred. And, lowering his voice so he was barely audible, he elaborated further. “A certain piece of parchment that possesses some rather useful information about the comings and goings within this school.”

“Oh! — er — okay, but what are you two going to do with it? You already know everything that’s on it, and you’re not in school anymore, so …”

“We figure it could be quite valuable if we were able to replicate its functions,” explained Fred.

“And sell the product to future generations of ‘free spirits’ who might attend this fine institution,” said George with a smile.

* * *

The entire school came down for dinner that evening. To Harry’s great surprise even Draco Malfoy attended the dinner. Before supper began, newly appointed Headmistress McGonagall stood up to speak to the gathered students.

“I know that this has been one of the worst times at Hogwarts,” McGonagall began, “and all of you are feeling conflicted about what has happened. The mixture of joy and sadness is perfectly normal. We lived through it back when Voldemort —” The audible gasps made her pause. “And we do need to get over that name. The Dark Lord is gone. He will not be returning. There is no justifiable reason to give his name that kind of reverence. It only reinforces a fear that no longer exists.” When everyone had settled back down, she continued.

“When Voldemort first vanished sixteen years ago the celebrations that followed were tremendous. Initially it almost seemed disrespectful to those who had died in defeating him, but I can assure you: IT IS ALL RIGHT TO CELEBRATE. In fact, celebrating isn’t just allowable, it’s absolutely necessary. We have all lost a great many friends during this struggle. And while it is true that things will never quite be the same, a wondrous thing has happened. We are free of a monstrous evil. It came at a very high price, to be sure, but it was necessary. We will never forget those friends who have affected our lives, but we nevertheless must move on. The best we can do is to honor their memories by doing and being the best we can. There will be a ceremony tomorrow at ten o’clock on the front lawn in remembrance of those schoolmates we have lost.

“Getting on to other more mundane matters, for all of you who have not taken your exams: they are, of course, canceled.” Some cheers and a smattering of applause broke out. “For those who have taken exams and achieved an Acceptable or better mark, they will be counted into your final grade; for those whose exams hurt their overall marks, the exams will be dropped.” More applause followed, as well as a few sighs of relief. “For those with O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s still remaining the Ministry informs me that you will be given a choice to take the tests in two weeks time or to wait until the beginning of the next school year. Hopefully these arrangements can accommodate everyone.”

She paused as if she did not know exactly how to phrase the next sentence. “Erm. If anyone knows of a well-qualified witch or wizard who would be amenable to possibly teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for next school year, I would be most appreciative if you would submit his or her name to me. I am afraid that with the significant loss of Aurors at the Ministry and teachers here at school that we are rather short on qualified instructors for next term.”

“Oooh, Harry,” said Hermione excitedly, “you could teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. You already have some teaching experience and —” But Professor McGonagall cut her off before either could continue the conversation.

“Before we dine, there is another who wishes to speak briefly.”

Professor McGonagall then marched to the end of the Head Table and retrieved an old stool as well as the Sorting Hat that normally sits on it at the beginning of each year. Students throughout the Hall sat up straighter at this unexpected event. She placed the stool down in front of the Head Table where all could see and sat the hat squarely on its ancient seat. A slit above the brim of the hat opened wide to speak its learned rhyme.

So here we are once more again
Gathered in our Great Hall
We feast together in joy and sadness
For great evil has touched us all

Each house has suffered, it is true
And we all must bear this grief
The loss of student and teacher alike
Casts our struggle in stark relief

Our four houses stand apart
Each with traits of its own
But we all share a common bond
For Hogwarts is our home

Our kinship helps to ease our pain
And gives us strength of forces
Especially when we get help
From unexpected sources

We have now fought side by side
Four houses joined as one
Together it has come to pass
A great darkness has been undone

So eat and drink your fill tonight
And let us rejoice with friends
For days move forward and we move on
Each to pursue our own ends

Boisterous applause erupted across the Hall, as did a large number of smiles. Many, including the entire Gryffindor table, stood up to applaud both the Sorting Hat and Professor McGonagall for their words.

A low-hanging cloud seemed to lift from the room. When the sumptuous food appeared, it smelled and tasted better than any of them had remembered. The Sorting Hat’s song had done much to lift their spirits; smiles and cheerful talk broke out once more throughout the Hall.

While he was enjoying his treacle tart dessert, Harry tried to listen in to Fred and George Weasley’s plans for the evening. He was certain the twins had taken McGonagall to heart when she said it was, “all right to celebrate.”

He soon found out what they had come up with as Ravenclaws and Gryffindors alike ran screaming through the third and fourth floor corridors closely pursued by fireworks that took the form of sparkling green dragons. Hufflepuffs and Slytherins came up to see what the commotion was about and soon many students were playing a game of “tag” with the fireworks where a student would stand at the corner of a corridor and, as the firework made its turn, would try racing in front of the speeding sparkler all the way down the hallway without getting scorched. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Neville all took turns, but Hermione begged off after watching Daphne Greengrass extinguish the back of Ernie Macmillan’s badly charred robes.

The melee was starting to get out of hand as rockets with long silver tails began knocking down doors. Mr. Filch finally drove the exuberant partiers outside when he brandished one of his well-oiled bullwhips. He was pursued by Professor McGonagall who was doing her best to restrain Filch so that he didn’t actually kill anyone.

Groups of students shuffled through the halls back and forth between common rooms looking for the best party. And when they had had their fill of butterbeer and sweets at one place, they would pack up and head off for the next soiree. After a number of visits, most revelers eventually made their way back to their own common rooms. The most notable exceptions were the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan who were busy lighting off fireworks out on the school lawn.

Ron was occupying most of the Gryffindor common room with his umpteenth re-telling of the events at the Ministry. Harry sat in a comfortable squashy chair near the fireplace, tired, but unable to conceive of sleep with all the activity still going on.

Harry caught sight of Neville and decided that now might be a good time to have a chat about Professor Dumbledore. So he slipped out of his chair and into the crowd to ask Neville if he could speak with him up in the dormitory. Many in the room winced as Ron described how he felt when the witch hit him with the Cruciatus Curse.

* * *

Harry and Neville wended their way to the top of the spiral staircase and into their dormitory. All the four-poster beds were empty, of course, but Seamus’ bed seemed especially so. His trunk should have sat at the foot of his bed, but it was gone too; his family had come to collect his things that morning.

Harry sat down on the edge of his own bed and Neville sat on Ron’s.

“Thanks, Neville,” said Harry. “Thanks so much for coming for us. That was incredible, mate.”

“Thanks, but I didn’t really do much,” Neville insisted. “And you’re the one who killed him. You walked through the veil, not me.”

“Well, I didn’t have much choice in the matter, did I?” said Harry. “But we wouldn’t have gotten out of there alive if you hadn’t come. Thanks.”

Neville smiled. “Anytime. Hey — what did Master Min want with you outside the common room?”

“Oh!” said Harry with a huge grin on his face. “He — er — he wanted to know if I wanted to train with him a bit this summer. You know, since you’ll be spending some time with your parents before the two of you leave this autumn, he — he invited me to stay with him and said he’d start my training.” Harry was a bit tentative; he wasn’t sure how Neville might react.

“That’s fantastic!” said Neville, genuinely. “But is he taking you all the way to South America for two months?”

“South America?” Harry was genuinely confused. “No, I think we’re staying down in that swamp. Why, is that where you’re going?”

“Yep. It was a toss-up between South America and Australia. But — hang on, I thought you were starting Auror training at the Ministry?”

“No, not yet. Mad-Eye Moody said that they’ve lost so many people that it will take a while before they can piece together a functioning department again. Until then they can’t take on anyone new.” Neville nodded his understanding.

An awkward silence followed and lasted so long that Harry started getting nervous. He could tell Neville was waiting for him to explain why he really brought him up here.

“Er.” Harry didn’t know how to change the subject. “Are you gonna be all right about … about what Professor Dumbledore did? That was a hell of a revelation about what he was trying to do with those Death Eaters. And because of that your parents … they …”

For a moment Neville looked frightened of the subject and Harry was worried he had broached a topic he shouldn’t have touched. Neville let out a breath. “I dunno. I suppose so.” He looked down at the floor and then sighed. “It’s just that … It’s just not fair,” he complained sharply. “Why is it always me?”

“Unfortunately, it’s not just you,” said Harry, morosely. Neville looked at him curiously. “You remember what happened at the Ministry back in our fifth year? Well, it shouldn’t have happened at all. …” Harry then explained how Professor Dumbledore had kept the prophecy from him and the series of events that led up to Sirius’ death.

Harry concluded his frank diatribe with, “I probably shouldn’t say this, but I actually wanted to kill Dumbledore at one point. I was that angry with him. He even said he expected me to attack him and that he wouldn’t do anything to stop me.” Neville’s mouth hung open.

“Sirius didn’t have to die. If I had just listened to Professor Dumbledore and taken the Occlumency lessons like I was supposed to. … Or if he had just told me about the prophecy before, none of it would have ever happened. I was so angry at everybody and everything that I ended up taking it out on his office. I don’t know how many of his things I broke that night. I even destroyed one of his —”

Neville burst out laughing. Harry was confused; he didn’t think his tearing apart Dumbledore’s office was quite that funny. But then he turned around, looked out the window, and saw the word ‘POO’ floating by in large green letters. The Weasley twins were apparently running out of their better fireworks and were now shooting off anything they had left. Harry couldn’t help but smile.

“When I listened to what Aberforth said down in the office this afternoon, I had an idea how you might feel. I didn’t want you to go off on him in a blind fury the way I did with Professor Dumbledore. I mean, you’re entitled to be angry, of course. But it took me the better part of last school year to really deal with it. And I didn’t want to see that happen to you.”

“Thanks, Harry. I appreciate it.”

“Sure — er — can I ask you something that’s rather personal?” Harry quickly asked before he lost his nerve.

“Okay,” Neville responded warily.

“Why didn’t you kill Bellatrix?”

Neville stopped cold. “Oh.” He had uttered only one word, but Harry could still hear the bitterness in it. “That,” he said, looking rather disgruntled.

“Well … Um.” Neville took a deep breath. “When I saw Min and the Professors following Lucius Malfoy and the other Death Eaters out of the Department of Mysteries, I wasn’t sure if I should follow. I caught sight of some other Death Eaters who were still trapped on one side of the room, so I decided to guard them so that they didn’t escape too. As I got closer I spotted Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband standing with their backs to the wall. I didn’t see exactly what happened next, but there were a few flashes of light as they tried to fight their way through the crowd, but they didn’t get far. They lost and somebody took their wands from them.

“I tried slowly edging my way through the crowd; I think I accidentally knocked a couple of people to the floor as I worked my way over. When I got to the center of the crowd I just stared at Bellatrix. We glared at each other for a while; it lasted a really long time; everything seemed to just slow down. I don’t exactly remember getting out my wand, but I saw my hand outstretched to her and my wand was pointed at her heart. She tried to back away, but the wall was right behind her. Someone told them to sit and the others obeyed, but she remained standing with her arms crossed.”

Neville was now staring at the bottom of Harry’s bed curtains, but his eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular. “It didn’t seem like I was going to do anything, at least not consciously. It all happened as if it was someone else who was talking; someone else was pointing my wand at her. It was kinda surreal. It was as if we were the only people in the room. We were having a private little moment, Bella and I; just the two of us talking things over. Well … I was the only one doing the talking. I told her about all of the things that had happened because of her; what I had to live with all those years because of what she did to my parents. I’m not really sure why I explained those things to her; they just came out. But it seemed like the proper thing to do at the time; to let her know my reasons.

“But then someone behind me called my name and it was like waking up in the middle of a play or something. All of a sudden I was standing on a stage with everybody watching me. It was strange. I — I didn’t want to do it in front of all of them. It felt like it should be something more private than that.” Neville’s eyes had glazed over slightly, pondering. “We really needed to be alone for it to be right.”

Neville sighed loudly and looked back up. “But I suppose I missed my chance. I should have done it, but I couldn’t, not with all those people staring at me.”

After a solid minute of uninterrupted silence (save for a few firecrackers popping in the distance), the only thing Harry could come up with was, “Wow.”

“Yeah. Hey — do you know what made Draco turn against Vol-” Neville stopped mid-word, but then forced himself to say it. “— against Voldemort?” Neville let out a breath and Harry smiled at him.

“Truthfully no, I don’t. I do know that he was terrified of Voldemort; at least he was when we encountered him in the Forbidden Forest back in first year. And I think Draco idolized Snape, too,” he said thoughtfully. “He watched Snape die last night. But it’s still almost impossible to believe that he went against his father. Maybe that shopkeeper was right; maybe Draco really is more miscreant than murderer.”

“Shopkeeper? What shopkeeper?” Neville asked quizzically.

“Oh, that’s right, you wouldn’t know about that. Before second year started, I visited Diagon Alley with Ron and his family to get our school supplies, but it was my first time using Floo powder and I ended up in Knockturn Alley instead. I came out of the fireplace in some wizard’s shop that had all sorts of strange, and probably illegal, magical items in it. Lucius Malfoy came in to sell some things he didn’t want Ministry officials to know he had. There was some sort of thieving apparatus prominently displayed in a glass case; the shopkeeper highly recommended it — the Hand of Glory, I think it was called. Draco asked his father to buy it for him, but Lucius said he hoped Draco would turn out to be more than just a common criminal. I suppose that shopkeeper had a better measure of Draco than his own father did.”

“Draco isn’t exactly common, though, is he?” said Neville. “He may not have actually killed anyone, but wishing Muggle-borns like Hermione would die goes a bit beyond being a bully.”

“True, but I think there’s a big difference between hoping for something awful in general and actually seeing it happen. It’s easy to be brave or even cruel from a distance, but when it’s placed right in front of you, or you actually have to make the choice yourself, that changes things a bit.

“Draco watched own his father murder Snape last night,” Harry said darkly. “After we were taken to the Ministry, they separated Ron, Hermione, and me. Lucius Malfoy marched me away to the holding cells and told Draco he wanted him to meet someone. I’d bet you anything that he took him to meet Voldemort; he’d want to show off the Malfoy heir to his master. I have to wonder what that encounter was like. Coming face to face with his father’s mentor, that must have been an interesting experience for Draco.” Neville shuddered. “He got to meet his future boss up close and personal.”

“Lucky for us Draco wasn’t interested in following in his father’s footsteps,” Neville observed sagely.

“Yeah,” Harry had to agree, “very lucky.”

Neville nodded.

“But …” Harry added with a knowing smirk, “it’s not as if Draco did it for our sake; he was saving his own skin more than anyone else’s.”

“Yeah, but still …” Neville insisted.

Harry nodded in reluctant agreement. “Still …”

Harry and Neville had seemed, by that point, to have mostly talked themselves out, so they decided to go back down to the revelries below. The partying died down shortly after they rejoined their friends. Harry, Neville, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had one last butterbeer before going back up. Harry kissed Ginny goodnight and they all finally went to bed.

* * *

BOOM!

Harry woke with a start. His heart raced and he looked around quickly before realizing that he was still lying safely in his four-poster. The source of the loud noise was soon revealed as Harry’s ears caught more whistles and bangs of fireworks outside. The hangings on his bed were still mostly closed, but he could see a ray of sunshine illuminating the wall through one crack in his bed curtains. It must be very early for the sun to be shining that high on the wall. He was groggy, but felt well-rested. Even his brain seemed to have benefited from a good night’s sleep, the second in a row.

Harry got up, threw a cloak over his pajamas, and stepped into his slippers. As he opened the door to the seventh years’ dormitory to go down for some coffee, he noticed a cool draft coming from above. He proceeded up the spiral stairs and encountered a rather large pile of fireworks that made him a bit uneasy about its explosive potential.

He had never come up to the top of the tower before, and was kicking himself for not doing this sooner. The view was spectacular. Only the tallest Astronomy tower reached higher than this one. He gazed out toward the horizon and, even with the mist, could see far across the Forbidden Forest to the west, over the lake and into Hogsmeade to the south, and even partly into the Quidditch stadium to the east. The air was cool and still, not yet fully heated by the morning sun. The school’s central courtyard was almost completely exposed from here. A few Dungbombs thrown from this height would really wreak some havoc, he mused.

Harry enjoyed the silence. There was a sort of clarity up here, different from the kind of quiet that one might find in a hushed library or a deserted dormitory room. A chair seemed in order, so he ‘Accio’-ed one out of a first floor classroom, through one of the open doors in the courtyard, and all the way up to the top of the tower. He placed it so it faced the courtyard and took a seat, propping his feet up onto the battlements.

Leaning back slightly in the chair, Harry took in a deep breath to enjoy the morning. But almost immediately he heard people coming up the stairs talking excitedly. Fred and George had arrived with their next bundle of explosives.

“Wotcher, Harry!” exclaimed Fred.

“Hi, guys. Er. Welcoming the sun up this morning?”

“Yeah, this’ll make a great launching pad,” said George. “Nice view, eh? We’ve come up here only once before. We originally thought it might be a good spot for some Dungbomb tossing, but soon discovered that too many windows look up onto this tower.”

“And it’s too exposed; there’s no place to hide up here,” said Fred. “Have you seen Lee? He was supposed to be bringing us some more Catherine Wheels.”

“No, sorry, haven’t seen anyone except for the two of you.” At that the brothers strode downstairs.

A few moments later Ron came up. He was bleary-eyed and his cloak was barely around him. “’Morning, Harry. What’s with all the traipsing up and down the stairs? And who left the dormitory door open? It got cold in there.”

“Oh, sorry, that was me. And Fred and George are bringing up more fireworks to shoot off.”

“More? Haven’t they got — Wow! Spectacular view! We should have come up here sooner.”

“Yeah. Want a chair?” And as Harry ‘Accio’-ed another chair, he spotted Lee Jordan down in the courtyard, but before he could yell to him, Lee had gone back inside.

Harry and Ron sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the morning air, not really sure what to talk about on their last day at Hogwarts.

Eventually Harry cut through the quiet. “I almost wish I could do it all over again, you know? I still remember the first train ride here. You kept staring at my scar and wincing at the name Voldemort. But all I was worried about was whether I really belonged here. I definitely didn’t feel like a wizard at the time, despite what Hagrid had told me. I was still convinced it must all be some horrible mistake, that they had the wrong person, and the Sorting Hat would tell me to go straight back to Privet Drive where I belonged.”

“Ouch! Now that’s a horrid thought.”

“It’s funny to think about all we’ve been through together over the past seven years. All because you couldn’t find a seat in another compartment.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Harry. I think we might’ve been mates anyway. What with your penchant for getting into trouble and mine for tagging along, it was probably inevitable, you know. Two forces that had to find each other.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Even if I’d had a normal family, we’d still be in the same year. I suppose it was unavoidable.”

“I think we were doomed to meet,” said Ron playfully. “You know, some coffee would be really nice.”

Barely a second after he uttered those words, footsteps behind them announced the arrival of Hermione. She was carrying a tray with three coffees perched on top. Harry and Ron glanced at each other. “Since when do you read minds, Hermione?” asked Harry.

“’Morning! Fred said you were up here. You two haven’t seen Lee have you?”

“No,” they answered together.

“Thanks!” said Ron, taking a cup. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Care for a chair?” Harry brought up another chair and he and Ron scooted their chairs to the side to fit hers between them.

“Mmm. It’s beautiful up here. Why did you come up here this morning? I don’t recall either of you ever mentioning the top of the tower before.”

“The door was open when I got up,” Harry explained. “Fred and George were going to use this tower as a launching pad,” he said, pointing over to the stack of fireworks near the entrance, “but I haven’t seen them in a while.” Just then a pair of feet came plodding up the stairs. It was Lee.

“Hey, guys,” he said.

“’Morning, Lee.”

“Have any of you seen either Fred or George?”

“I saw them in the common room a bit ago,” said Hermione. “They were looking for you. They seemed to think you had gotten lost and mentioned something about selling you a map.”

“Oh, very funny. They were supposed to be up here. Looks like they’ve brought most of the stuff up. Unfortunately I couldn’t find any Catherine Wheels. Oh well, I suppose that’ll have to do.” As Lee strolled back down, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared tentatively at the towering pile of explosives.

The three sat with their feet perched on the tower battlements.

“Last full day,” Hermione observed.

“Yep,” Harry and Ron responded softly, each sipping their hot coffee.

“Oh, I’m going to miss this school so much,” said Hermione wistfully. “I knew this day would eventually come, but now that it’s here …”

“Think we could borrow a Time-Turner and do it all over again?” asked Ron, only half-jokingly.

“I wish we could. I don’t think they can make us eleven again, though; they don’t work that way. It would be nice. … I mean it’s not as if I would want to break any rules, but …”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” said Harry. “It’s been the best time of my life. I don’t think it could have been any better than it was. Well, okay, maybe being chased around by Lord Voldemort was a bit much, but other than that …” Ron and Hermione laughed.

“I’m glad I got to share it with the two of you,” Harry said earnestly. “I’ve always wanted a family of my own, and I found both a brother and a sister here at school. I love you two, I really do. It’s been great fun. Thanks for always being there.”

Hermione smiled at him with tears in her eyes. “Oh, Harry!” she exclaimed, leaning over to gave him a hug.

“Yeah, Harry,” said Ron, who was having a bit more difficulty expressing himself than Hermione. But he eventually said it and Harry knew he meant it. “I love you too, mate. And — hey! — I finally have a younger brother,” he added cheerfully. “Though a four month gap between the two of us might have been a bit tough on Mum. And I’m not quite sure how she would explain your hair color to Dad,” he observed with a smile.

The scuffling of another pair of feet announced the arrival of Neville. “’Morning all,” he said. But the strangely deep voice didn’t exactly match the pair of warm fluffy bunny slippers he was wearing. “Have any of you seen Trevor at all?”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked at each other and rolled their eyes. They looked back at Neville, who just shrugged.

Harry got up and pointed his wand over the battlements to grab another chair, and spotted one of the Weasley twins down in the courtyard. “HEY, GEORGE!” It was a lucky guess; he truthfully couldn’t tell the two apart, even when standing next to them. George looked up at Harry, smiled, and waved. Harry tried to relay a message, “LEE —” but before he could say any more, George had walked back inside. He sighed and brought up a chair for Neville.

Lee later told Harry that he finally caught up with Fred and George near the prefects’ bathroom. Ron vowed to never go near that bathroom again for fear he would set off whatever trap they likely laid for some unsuspecting Head Boy. The three pranksters then proceeded to set off one of the most amazing fireworks displays the school had ever seen. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Dean watched the entire one-hour long show from the top of Gryffindor Tower. It lasted so long that they were nearly late for breakfast.

* * *

The entire school had slowly filtered into the Great Hall for breakfast. No one seemed very talkative this morning. In an hour, they would all be going out onto the front lawn to remember the friends they have lost. Any further remembrances about their past exploits at school or discussions about their own futures seemed inappropriate at the moment.

Most of the students hung around after breakfast in the Great Hall and in the entrance hall. At ten o’clock Professor McGonagall led them out onto the front lawn. A podium stood in the middle of the cobblestone path leading up to the stone steps outside the entrance, and a shiny brass bell sat on a table next to it. Students assembled in front of the podium on either side of the path. Professor McGonagall took her place behind the podium and teachers lined up on either side of her. A man dressed in a tartan kilt holding a bagpipe stood at one end of the row of teachers.

Harry held his hands behind his back. Because they were tallest, the seventh year students were in the back row. Ron was on the end with Neville next to him. Harry stood between Neville and Dean Thomas. There was a space between Dean and Lavender Brown where Seamus would have stood. At the other end of the row was Hermione; they had tried to put the prefects and Head Boy and Head Girl on the ends. The row in front of them was filled with seventh year Hufflepuffs. There were two spots missing in this row, one of which was right in front of Harry. Sixth year Gryffindors were in the row in front of the Hufflepuffs, and so forth on up to the first year Hufflepuffs at the front. Slytherin and Ravenclaw houses stood in the same alternating pattern on the other side of the path.

Harry moved his hands again so they were now in front of him. He wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to stand, or if there was a rule for such a thing. It seemed rather petty to worry about something like that right now, but he didn’t know where he should be looking, either. Harry stared at the empty ground in front of him, even though that didn’t seem quite proper, until Professor McGonagall began speaking.

“We have gathered here to say goodbye to a number of our friends, colleagues, and classmates. It is never easy to let go of those we love. It can be even more difficult when we don’t understand why this has happened, and most specifically why this happened to them. The events surrounding the loss of our friends were not ones of their own making. They did not volunteer to become a part of this history, but they nevertheless are tied to it. A great evil has been destroyed, and for that we must be grateful, even though it will not lessen the pain we feel in our hearts.

“Despite the sorrow and the tremendous loss we feel, we all must still carry on. We will never forget the friends whom we commemorate today. The times we shared together will live on in our hearts and in our memories forever and so will they.”

Professor McGonagall then took a piece of parchment out of her robes, unfolded it, and read each name aloud, striking the bell once to remember each in turn.

“Hannah Abbott, seventh year, Hufflepuff.”

The gleaming, delicate bell rang out a clear, distinctive, ‘Ding.’ Ernie Macmillan, standing rigidly on the end of the row of seventh year Hufflepuffs, clearly choked back a strong urge to cry.

“Owen Cauldwell, fourth year, Hufflepuff.”

‘Ding.’ Harry could hear sobbing coming from a few rows ahead.

“Professor Albus Dumbledore, Gryffindor.”

‘Ding.’ Audible cries and sobs came from all around. Harry closed his eyes briefly and gripped his wrist tightly.

“Seamus Finnigan, seventh year, Gryffindor.”

‘Ding.’ The huge lump in Harry’s throat tightened unbearably. Neville and Hermione were sobbing noticeably when Dean Thomas suddenly crouched down, nearly losing his balance before Harry put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from falling.

“Kenneth Humphreys, first year, Hufflepuff.”

‘Ding.’ Harry could see two Hufflepuffs in the front row lean against each other.

“Megan Jones, seventh year, Hufflepuff.”

‘Ding.’ Susan Bones starting crying and Parvati Patil hugged her around her shoulders.

“Andrew Kirke, fourth year, Gryffindor.”

‘Ding.’ Harry heard Dennis Creevey sniffle loudly somewhere in front of him. And Harry wondered what Ron was feeling right then. The last thing Harry remembered Ron saying to Andrew was how poorly he played in their last Quidditch match against Slytherin; a game they won handily despite the less-than-stellar play by their Beaters.

“Orla Quirke, fourth year, Ravenclaw.”

‘Ding.’

“Professor Severus Snape, Slytherin.”

‘Ding.’ Harry’s reaction was surprisingly neutral. He snuck a peek at Draco Malfoy who was breathing hard and staring at the ground in front of him. Harry knew that even though both Snape and Draco had made the “right” choice in the end, each had suffered for their decision, Snape especially so.

“Professor Sibyll Trelawney, Hufflepuff.”

‘Ding.’ Harry looked over as Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown lost themselves in grief, bawling uncontrollably. He felt a large wave of guilt sweep through him. It was because of him, because of his prophecy that she was dead. While Harry knew that this was true for everyone who died, it was most directly true for Professor Trelawney. Professor Dumbledore had tried so hard to keep her safe; he had even given her a post at the school so Voldemort and his Death Eaters could not pursue her to discover the prophecy. But they got to her over the previous summer anyway, and tortured the poor woman to death. But apparently she held out, or she truly did not remember the prophecy she made seventeen years ago. The Death Eaters obviously hadn’t gotten the information they were seeking; otherwise Voldemort would never have chosen to join with Harry. He would have known that Harry was the one who would destroy him, and he would have avoided Harry at all costs. Voldemort likely would not have even set foot in the same room as Harry for fear of fulfilling the prophecy. He realized that he owed, “that old fraud,” as Hermione called her, everything. And he could never repay her.

“Rose Zeller, third year, Hufflepuff.”

‘Ding.’

Professor McGonagall set down the brass striker. “May we never forget them,” she said solemnly as she gazed over the somber crowd. She then looked down the row of teachers and the man holding the bagpipe stepped forward. He inflated the bag and the instrument began to drone. A gorgeous, but plaintive, rendition of Amazing Grace flowed from the pipes. The song filled Harry’s chest with almost uncontrollable emotions of grief. Next to him, Dean Thomas was crying unabashedly and Harry saw Ron lean down and put his hands on his knees to support himself. Most of the rest of the gathering had similar reactions; Parvati was holding onto Susan Bones in front of her, not in an effort to comfort Susan, but more to support herself. Susan constantly wiped tears from her face while Ernie Macmillan stood with his arms across his chest and stared determinedly forward, gritting his teeth.

Harry struggled mightily for the whole two and a half minutes; he knew, if ever, this was the time and place to let it go, but he still stubbornly held onto his tears. He was very relieved when the last notes were played and the droning of the bag finally ended. Ron looked over to Harry with his hands on his hips and let out a long breath.

Professor McGonagall, blotting the tear streaks from her face told them, “You are dismissed.”

The crowd dispersed quietly. Some congregated in the entrance hall, but most returned to their common rooms. Neville, however, was leaving. He was returning to St. Mungo’s to care for his parents.

“I really don’t like saying goodbye,” Neville insisted, “but …”

It took Neville nearly fifteen minutes to get out of the common room. Fred and George kept coming back to shake his hand again and again and again, saying, “Goodbye,” in twenty different languages. Harry told him he’d probably see him over the summer, but it was clear Neville didn’t want to leave. Eventually he stepped out through the portrait hole and seemed to leave a gaping hole in the room behind him.

Fred, George, and Lee followed shortly thereafter. They wanted to get back to work and re-open the shop that had been closed since they left. Harry quietly asked Fred what they had done to the bathroom, but he only smiled and winked.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon when Ron stood up abruptly, grabbed Hermione, and dragged her out of the common room. Ginny then grabbed Harry by the hand and followed Ron and Hermione down to the entrance. They said goodbye as they watched Ron and Hermione walk off around the school and Ginny then led Harry down toward the lake.

Harry thought Ginny looked very much like someone who needed to get a few things off her chest. But first she sat down on the water’s edge, took off her shoes and socks, and soaked her feet in the warm water. Harry smiled and followed suit. They sat with their arms around one another looking over the castle grounds, occasionally splashing water on each other. The sky was a brilliant clear blue, with just a few wispy clouds interrupting the uniform hue. It was a truly gorgeous day.

“Thanks for coming for me,” said Harry as he played gently with her long red locks, slowly twisting the soft strands in his fingers.

“Well, it didn’t really matter much, did it?” said Ginny regretfully. “We weren’t much help; we didn’t get to do anything.”

“It mattered to me,” Harry insisted. “It mattered a lot.”

“But if we had just waited instead of rushing off we could have come through the Floo and maybe we could have helped them reach you before you had to decide to … to make that choice.”

“I didn’t want to; I honestly didn’t. But there weren’t any other options. I suppose that’s just how it had to be.”

“Well at least it’s over with,” she said firmly. “You-Know-Who is gone. … That stupid prophecy is ended. … Even your scar has vanished.”

“Yeah,” he said with a touch of regret.

“What do you mean, ‘Yeah’?” Ginny asked, her voice rising. “Because, ‘Yeah,’ doesn’t quite cover it, Harry. I know what it was that you killed two nights ago. I know what was in that monster’s heart. I know because he got right inside of mine.” Ginny’s eyes were welling up with tears. “He stuck a knife in and twisted it and turned it. And he had haunted other people’s lives for decades. But now he’s gone, all because of you. You know that, don’t you, Harry? Or don’t you? Maybe you don’t realize it because you didn’t grow up with it.” Harry thought that was going a bit far; he started to object, but Ginny kept on talking.

“My parents and family used to tell me stories of You-Know-Who. My Mum didn’t so much, but my Dad did. And my brothers, especially Fred and George, would try to scare the wits out of me with them. Some of the tales were taller than others, of course, but they were all always full of fear. I grew up with it, Harry; I’ve known his name since I was two or three years old. A lot of it was silly myths and superstitions told just to get little children to do what their parents wanted them to. — ‘If you don’t eat your peas, You-Know-Who will visit you.’ — ‘Don’t go near the lake or You-Know-Who will reach out his long, thin fingers from beneath the water to snatch you up and pull you right in!’

“But some of it was really true. — ‘Don’t forget to tell your family you love them before you go off to bed or You-Know-Who will steal them away in the middle of the night, and then you’ll be sorry.’ — I’d always lived with that; everyone did.

“I knew of you, too, of course; how you saved everyone when you destroyed the Dark Lord.” Harry flushed profusely, but he didn’t interrupt her story.

“And then I came to school and in my very first year I met Him. God I can’t believe how stupid I was,” she lamented, sniffling loudly. “I tried to fight him, but he still got into my dreams and into my soul. But then you came and rescued me. I’d always dreamed about meeting you, but when I finally did …” She embarrassedly covered her face with her hands. “Well, let’s just forget about that, shall we?” Harry grinned.

“Anyway, whenever I was around you I knew I was safe. You protected all of us from You-Know-Who once and I knew you’d do it again, if it came to that. And I was right, too, Harry! You came and rescued me down in the Chamber and now you’ve defeated him once again, and this time he isn’t coming back! Parents don’t have to threaten their kids with silly tales about You-Know-Who to try to get them to eat their greens; they’ll have to make up some other story. People don’t have to worry about being snatched away in the middle of the night.

“And you don’t have to live with him hanging over you anymore, either. It’s over, Harry. You’re free. You know that? You’re free of him. We all are.”

Harry blinked in surprise at the thought. “You’re right,” he said in astonishment. “You’re absolutely right. I hadn’t really thought of it that way.”

Ginny smiled at him knowingly. And Harry was now beginning to fully realize that it was truly all over, both the good — his time at school with his friends — and the bad — his dealings with Voldemort. But he had survived and so had most of his friends and for that he was very, very thankful.

“But if we’re all so free now,” Harry asked playfully, but still rather pointedly, “why is it you still can’t say his name?”

Ginny had a quick intake of breath and looked around warily. Harry tilted his head at her and raised his eyebrows. “Okay, okay,” she said and took a deep breath. “V-, V-” She stopped and smiled self-consciously, but tried again. “Voldemort!” She cringed and quickly closed her eyes.

“You see, nothing happened,” Harry gently teased. “Now try it three times in a row, just to make sure.”

Ginny’s eyes instantly popped wide open in fright. She then frowned at him and for a moment Harry thought he had gone too far, but she tried anyway. A pause, a deep breath and, cringing with her fists tightly closed she uttered, “Voldemort! Voldemort! Voldemort!” Ginny’s body coiled into a tight ball as she brought her knees up to her chest. Harry and Ginny tentatively looked all around them at the lake and across the grounds. No monster reached out of the lake to snatch them. Grotesque corpses didn’t push their way up out of the earth to pull them down into a grave. Dementors didn’t swarm across the lush green lawn to suck the souls out of their bodies. No dragon tried to devour them. And, most importantly, You-Know-Who didn’t make an appearance.

Ginny sighed in relief and, to his own surprise, so did Harry. But Harry did notice that Ginny never put her feet back into the water again.

“So you want to become an Auror too?” Harry asked after a bit.

“Oh don’t you start. I get enough of it from Ron,” Ginny grumbled.

“Hang on! I was just asking. You’re going to have a tough few terms next year. This one was difficult enough for me, and you’re taking more classes than I did.”

“Sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat. But even Hermione chimes in occasionally to try to talk me out of it, especially when she’s thinking about Tonks.”

“Yeah, well, that hit her really hard. She still feels guilty about it.”

“But it wasn’t her fault at all,” Ginny said exasperatedly.

“Of course it wasn’t, but Tonks was impersonating Hermione while protecting her parents when she was killed. That sort of thing is going to have an impact,” said Harry, who couldn’t help but be reminded of how he felt about his own role in Sirius’ death.

“Yes, but Tonks was my friend too,” Ginny complained. “She was like a big sister to both of us, but Hermione acts like she was the only one who cared about her. She’s gotten positively cross with me a few times whenever the subject has come up. She thinks I’m following in Tonks’ footsteps and that I’m going to end up like her. It drives me mad.”

“She’s worried. And she’s entitled to worry. And so am I for that matter.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Look, Ginny, it’s just that … I dunno, I can’t help thinking about the Longbottoms, that’s all. I don’t want that to happen to us. They were both Aurors and … you know … sometimes bad things happen. I just don’t want —”

“We’re not married, Harry!” Ginny insisted. “I mean … you’re not proposing to me, are you?”

“NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!” he yelled, panicking. “I just … oh, good grief.”

Ginny smiled cleverly. “Gotcha!”

“Don’t do that!” he said, his face flushing.

“I do appreciate that you care about me so much. Honest.” She gave him a peck on the cheek. “I worry about you too. I don’t want to see you get hurt either, but I’m also not going to try to convince you not to follow your dream.”

“I would never stop you —”

“I know you wouldn’t, Harry. I’m just a bit afraid of turning into my Mum. She and Dad got married right out of Hogwarts and she had Bill just over a year after leaving school. I don’t want that, at least not yet. I think she could have done something great, but she had us instead.”

Harry was shocked at Ginny’s attitude toward her mother. “Personally I think your Mum really is great.”

“Oh, she is. I’m certainly not complaining. I know she doesn’t regret her decision, but I always got the sense that she would have liked to have explored a bit on her own for a few years and then settled down, that’s all.”

Just then a giant tentacle lifted in the air and splashed down near them, spraying them both with water. “Thanks a lot,” Harry muttered sarcastically to the squid, brushing the droplets of water out of his hair.

“You will write, won’t you?” Ginny asked.

“Sure, once I start at the Ministry, but I’ll be down in that swamp for a couple of months, so I don’t know how much mail I’ll be sending out. And you’re going to be busy next year studying for your N.E.W.T.s anyway.”

“But that doesn’t mean —”

“We won’t lose touch, I promise,” said Harry emphatically. “I’m sure Min will want to visit Neville and his parents at least once during the summer, so I can stop by to visit you then. And I’ll try to visit the Burrow to see you off before school starts up again. Okay?”

“Okay,” she sighed. “But I’m holding you to that. Don’t make me come up there …”

“I’d rather face down a dozen Crumple-Horned Snorkacks!” Harry smiled and kissed her softly. “I promise.”

“Hey, you two!” called a voice from behind. Ron and Hermione had apparently finished their walk around the castle and were starting a loop around the lake. From the sound of his voice, Harry could tell that Ron still wasn’t completely comfortable with him kissing Ginny in public. Of course, Ron had little room to complain as he and Hermione had been caught in a spectacular snog-fest under the beech tree by the first years’ flying lesson class at the beginning of first term. Madam Hooch had given them both week-long detentions for their outlandish display.

* * *

The four friends walked around the lake together and rejoined their classmates in the Great Hall for one last dinner. Near the end of the meal, Hagrid came over to the table and slapped Ron on the back, causing him to spit out his mouthful of apple tart.

“Oops. Sorry ’bout that, Ron. Say, you three want ter come down for a visit this evening? I got summat for yeh!”

“What is it, Hagrid?” asked Hermione.

“It’s a surprise! You’ll have ter come down an’ see,” he said with a gleam in his eye as he walked out of the Hall. After supper Harry, Ron, and Hermione said goodbye to Ginny in the entrance hall as she headed for the Ravenclaw common room in search of Luna. They walked down the stone steps and across the lawn to Hagrid’s cabin. Harry had barely knocked when Fang erupted from within and Hagrid threw the door open. “Come in! Come in! Have a seat,” he said. “How ’bout a cuppa? Some rock cakes?”

“We just ate, Hagrid,” said Hermione.

“Oh, yeah, ’course. Anyway I got a li’l summat fer each of yeh.” Hagrid reached into his chest of drawers, took out three packages, and gave one each to Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Harry held the small box that was wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine in his hand. “Go ahead, open ’em up.”

Harry unwrapped the box and, lifting the lid, found a watch inside. Hagrid smiled and said, “I know you bin needin’ one since the Triwizard Tournament.”

“Thanks, Hagrid. Thanks a lot!”

“An’ it’s water-proof too,” said Hagrid proudly.

Hermione revealed a glass ball from her package and looked at it curiously; it reminded Harry of Neville’s Remembrall. Soft multi-colored lights twinkled from the sphere in rhythmic patterns. Ron seemed to be transfixed by the lights and Hagrid was swaying back and forth with his eyes closed.

“Hagrid, what is it?” asked Hermione. He startled like he had been brought out of a light trance.

“What? Oh, it’s a Fairy Light Ball. It helps calm creatures like ogres an’ giants and such. The lights affect jus’ about everyone, tho’ I wouldn’ try it with beasts like dragons.” Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid all turned to look at Ron who was gazing at the ball with his mouth slightly open. “Bu’ the music can on’y be heard by larger creatures.”

“Music? What music?” asked Harry.

“It’s too low for yeh ter hear it, Harry,” explained Hagrid, smiling. “I figure with yeh workin’ in Interspecies Relations, Hermione, it might come in handy.”

“Wow. Thank you, Hagrid. That was so sweet,” said Hermione, who then stood up and gave him a great hug. Ron quickly came out of his trance as the ball was hidden between the two of them.

Ron opened his package and found inside a pair of soft, and somewhat sticky, dragon-skin gloves.

“Should help yeh catch those Quaffles,” Hagrid explained. “They’re sticky, see, so you can hang onto ’em a bit better.”

“Woah! Thanks, Hagrid. They’re brilliant,” said Ron, awestruck.

“This was really nice of you, Hagrid,” said Harry. “You didn’t have to —”

“Aww, it was nothin’,” said Hagrid with a tear in his eye. “It’s jus’ with the three of you leavin’, I wanted ter …”

“Oh, Hagrid, please don’t cry,” said Hermione. “We’ll be back to see you, we promise. Right?” she said looking at Harry and Ron for help.

“Exactly, Hagrid; we’ll be back to visit,” said Harry.

“Yeah, you can’t get rid of this easily,” Ron added.

“I knew this day would come,” said Hagrid, wiping his eyes. “Bu’ it seems like yeh only jus’ arrived, that’s all. Yeh still seem like li’l kids ter me. Well okay, maybe yeh’ve grown jus’ a bit.”

“We had a lot of help from you,” said Harry. “Thanks, Hagrid. Thanks for everything you’ve done. You’ve always been there for all of us, me especially. I still remember the night you came knocking on the door of that hut and telling me that I was a wizard. It was the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten.” Harry walked over to Hagrid and was pulled into his scratchy beard as the giant man put his arms around him and bawled uncontrollably.

Hagrid let him go after a few moments and Harry could breathe again. Ron came over to shake Hagrid’s hand, but he drew him into his left arm, Harry into his right, and Hermione came in between the two and put her arms around Harry and Ron. After a minute the four finally released and Ron and Harry glanced at each other trying not to breathe in too loudly.

“Yeh better be goin’,” said Hagrid, “before I lock yeh in a cupboard to keep yeh from leavin’.”

“Take care of yourself, Hagrid,” said Harry. “I’ll write you as soon as I can.” They all said their goodbyes over and over again. Hagrid certainly didn’t want them to leave, but they eventually got out the door and walked back up toward the castle, occasionally glancing back at the cozy cabin on the edge of the forest.

“I’m gonna miss the big guy,” said Ron. “His classes were always interesting — well, okay, maybe not the flobberworms — and we learned loads. And so long as you didn’t get too close to the animals, you were safe.”

Hermione suddenly coughed into her hand. Strangely her cough sounded an awful lot like, “Norbert.” Harry smiled as he recalled the baby dragon that put Ron in the hospital for a week and sent himself, Hermione, Neville, and Draco into the Forbidden Forest.

As they reached the entrance hall, Harry told Ron and Hermione he’d meet them back in the Gryffindor common room. Racing up seven flights of stairs toward the Ravenclaw common room in search of Ginny, Harry flew around a corner and collided right into Draco Malfoy coming the other way! They stared at each other for a second.

“Watch where you’re going, Potter.”

“Sorry.” They each had taken two steps along their previous paths when Harry turned and said to Malfoy, “Thanks, Draco.”

Draco stopped and stood there for a moment, not turning back, and then continued on his journey. After another step, just as he was about to round the corner, he froze once more when Harry uttered, “Listen … I’m sorry about Professor Snape. I know that you —”

Malfoy whipped around with a furious look on his face. “Sorry? You’re sorry? You hated him, Potter. I know you did. Don’t bother pretending now that you actually cared about him all along.”

“No, really. I —”

“Don’t lie to me, Potter; you’re not very good at it. You and Weasley have wanted to see him gone ever since you arrived,” he spat bitterly. “Well, you got your wish. Congratulations.” And with that, Malfoy wheeled around once more and stalked off. Harry stood there with his mouth hanging partly open, staring at the top of the empty staircase. For a moment Harry thought about chasing after him, but he quickly concluded that he had nothing more to say to Draco and so resumed his journey to the Ravenclaw common room.

Even though Harry and Draco would encounter each other twice more in their lifetimes, those were the last words either would ever say to the other.

* * *

Harry awoke the next morning and stared up at his bed hangings. He wasn’t quite as downcast as he was yesterday about leaving school. Harry quickly noticed that his curtains were parted and a long, thin nose was sticking through them.

“Dobby?” The house-elf threw open the hangings.

“Good morning, Harry Potter! ’Tis a beautiful day! But Dobby is sad. Harry Potter is leaving Hogwarts, never to return,” said the house-elf in a melancholy voice.

“Oh, I’ll be back, Dobby,” said Harry, getting out of bed. “If I don’t visit Ginny at school, she’ll kill me.”

“Harry Potter will come back to see his Wheezy? Oh, that is most wondrous! But Dobby will still miss Harry Potter when he is gone.”

“I’ll miss you too, Dobby. You’ve been a good, loyal friend …” said Harry, which brought a tear to Dobby’s protruding eyes, “… whenever you haven’t been trying to save my life, that is.” A snorted chuckle from the next bed announced that Ron was awake.

“Oooh! Dobby must get back to breakfast. Goodbye, Harry Potter! Farewell!”

Harry had barely gotten half the word out of his mouth, “Good-” before Dobby disappeared with a loud crack, “-bye, Dobby.”

Pulling his hangings aside, Ron looked at Harry and observed, “With Vol- — er — You-Know-Who trying to kill you and Dobby trying to save you, it’s a miracle you survived all seven years.”

“Are Fred and George back with more fireworks?” asked a very groggy Dean Thomas as he poked his head through his bed curtains.

“No, that was just Dobby popping in and out to say goodbye,” explained Harry.

“Oh. I hope they have some sausage this morning. I’m starved.”

“Yeah, breakfast!” said Ron with a gleam in his eye.

* * *

Breakfast in the Great Hall seemed to fly by with unusual speed. In a great blur of activity, students rushed about saying their goodbyes before collecting in the main entrance to await their carriages. Four by four they were taken down to the Hogsmeade train station. Harry was trying to think if he managed to say goodbye to all the teachers. The tumultuous bustle settled down as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny found a compartment near the rear of the Hogwarts Express.

“When do Keeper tryouts begin?” Harry asked Ron over the din as Pigwidgeon twittered madly in his cage.

“Reserve Keeper. — Be quiet, you. — I’m supposed to report to the Chudley Cannons’ training camp August first. If I make it, our first game is August fifteenth.”

“That’s so cool, Ron. Good luck. I’ll definitely have to get down to see a few games. You can get me tickets, can’t you?”

“Sure, but they’re not exactly hard to come by as the Cannons are at the bottom of the league,” Ron complained.

“You can help them turn that around, Ron,” Hermione stated confidently.

“Yeah, definitely,” Ginny agreed. “They’re weakest at the Keeper position. You won’t be a reserve for long.”

“Thanks!” he said, blushing.

“So you’re starting in a new department at the Ministry of Magic?” Harry then asked of Hermione.

“Oh, yes. It’s going to be so exciting! The Department of Interspecies Relations. We’ll be exploring ways to help ease tensions with the centaurs, communicate better with goblins, and, of course, start a dialogue with house-elves about pay and benefits and such. It’s going to be an awful lot of work, of course. And at first it will just be the two of us: myself and Cuthbert Mockridge. His work as Goblin liaison will be invaluable. And I’ll have to take classes learning new languages. I wish I had thought about language courses before; it would have been so nice to have learned at least a couple here at school. I’m so far behind.”

“Oh yeah, that’s just what you needed, Hermione: more classes!” said Ron dryly.

“Are you two going to be okay living so far away from each other?” Harry asked. Ginny gave Harry a worried look, but neither Ron nor Hermione seemed to notice.

“Yes, I think so,” said Hermione brightly. “Ron’s near home and so I can visit easily. And we would probably be apart a good deal, regardless. After the department is up and running, my job will likely be sending me around the country. And even if there was a Quidditch team right next door to the Ministry, Ron’d be traveling to away games half the time anyway.”

“And I’ll have the off-season too, so that’ll help,” Ron added.

“But you need to keep in touch, too, Harry,” Hermione insisted.

“Yeah, definitely,” said Ron.

“I’ll be up in that swamp with Min for a couple of months,” said Harry, “so I don’t know how much communicating I’ll be doing. But once Moody gets the Auror department back up and running, I can begin my training there and I should be able to send regular posts. And I’m sure we’ll run into each other occasionally at work, Hermione.”

“They’ve had so much trouble filling the Defense Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts,” said Hermione, “that I was sure you’d apply for the job. You were great at teaching us. You would have done wonderfully as a Professor, I just know it.”

“Thanks, Hermione,” he said, blushing.

“So you’re definitely going to become an Auror and not a teacher, Harry?” Ron asked. “Hermione’s right; you’d be brilliant. Hmm. Professor Potter, that sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? And you wouldn’t even have to leave school!”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s not what I want right now. Maybe down the road, I don’t know. I owe it to Professor Dumbledore to catch Lucius. Min let him go so a whole lot of people wouldn’t get killed, but he has to be brought in. You don’t want to be an Auror, Ron? I definitely think you could make it.”

“Sorry, Harry, but after seven years here at school I feel like I’ve done my bit for Wizard-kind on that one. A stray Bludger is the most dangerous thing I hope to come across for a while.” They all chuckled at that. “And speaking of dangerous, I don’t want you trying to establish relations with cave trolls or anything like that, Hermione. You let your boss take the risks, not you.”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much,” said Hermione indignantly. “And some of my work will certainly involve —”

“The only trolls Hermione needs to be wary of are those she finds in bathrooms,” said Harry playfully.

The entire group laughed out loud. And they kept talking as the train pulled out of Hogsmeade, heading back to King’s Cross station. After countless games of Exploding Snap, Harry and Ron finally settled into one final game of wizard chess. Hermione and Ginny sat and watched, munching the last of the Chocolate Frogs and Cauldron Cakes.

Seeing the outskirts of London come into view, Harry wistfully thought about his first train ride out of King’s Cross station, setting him off on his adventure into the Wizarding world. He realized how different he now was from that frightened little eleven-year-old boy who first caught the Hogwarts Express seven Septembers ago. He knew he couldn’t go back, but some part of him still desperately yearned to return to his home at Hogwarts. The reflection of his bare forehead shone in the glass.

“You know what?” he said.

“What’s that, Harry?” asked Ron.

“I kinda miss my scar.”

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