Author's Note: So, my play was this last weekend and though I'm glad it's over, I'm also really sad. I actually wrote this piece in the madness between Acts 1 and 2, which might've been stupid, but it turned out decently at least.
This actually happened to me at my eighth grade graduation. Both my teacher and I got in a little trouble, but it was worth it.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: It's all over. And sometimes Hermione looks back, knowing that this transition in her life was always the most important.
Transitions
Dedicated with love to my eighth grade teacher, Ms. J. Miller. Although we clashed sometimes, you believed I could go far, and I always appreciated that.
It was the end of everything.
At least, that's what it felt like to Hermione. There was a huge, gaping hole in her chest, threatening to swallow her entire existence. She choked back a sob, glancing around at the people with whom she had spent her entire life. Nothing seemed important, except for the monotonous drone of the Minister's name-calling, and the soft, red, real robes she clutched like a lifeline in her hands.
School was ending.
Hogwarts was over. Done. Finished.
She couldn't even grasp the concept; she could not, would not, picture her life without this school. She couldn't picture anything but the exciting wait every year for September, the feeling of waking in the dorms every morning, or waving to Professor Flitwick or Sinistra as she made her way into the Great Hall. She didn't even dare picturing her life without the long nights where she stayed up studying, or the days she spent running around and ending up in life-threatening situations with Harry and Ron.
"Hermione Granger."
The boy behind her nudged her forward; it was a Ravenclaw she had never really spoken to that much. She stumbled slightly, before regaining her balance and stepping as gracefully as she possibly could onto the raised platform. The reporters from The Daily Prophet raised their cameras, getting ready to snap some shots of the first member of the Golden Trio to graduate from Hogwarts. Hermione Granger, the brains behind the defeat of Voldemort.
She graciously accepted her diploma from the Minister, ignoring the sinking feeling that it should've been Dumbledore there, handing it to her as he handed her the time turner, with that omniscient twinkle in his eye. It felt so wrong that she took a moment to close her eyes, sending a silent 'thank you' up towards the heavens, hoping somehow that Dumbledore would understand. Somehow, she thought he did.
She turned to her left, seeing the long line of professors, waiting to shake her hand and offer her congratulations. The Minister had been very clear on the protocol. No more than ten seconds spent on each teacher, maintain a physical boundary, and exit the stage. The time for personal goodbyes was not now, he had told them. We must stay professional.
However, Hermione loved her teachers, almost as much as she loved her two best friends, and even her parents. She knew that this might end up being the hardest task of her career here at Hogwarts. She didn't want to disappoint anyone, but she certainly had the urge to be completely reckless and ruled by emotion. Just for once.
The next name was being called, and Hermione started down the line, shaking her teachers' hands and thanking them for the wonderful education they had given her. A few seconds later, she realized she was almost at the end of the line. She counted off the rest of the professors: Sinistra, Trelawney, McGonagall, then Slughorn. Not too bad, she mused.
She got through the first two easily, reaching her Transfiguration professor in a matter of seconds. She stuck her right hand out, but McGonagall didn't meet it. Hermione looked up, confused, and found Minerva to have a glint in her eye that the bushy-haired girl had never seen before.
"The dream begins with someone who believes in you," the black-haired witch said softly, keeping her hands clasped tightly in front of her stomach.
Tears gathered in the corners of Hermione's eyes. For some reason, that statement affected her so profoundly. Maybe it was the fact that Professor McGonagall rarely ever gave out praise, or maybe this was a perfectly normal thing to say and Hermione was getting overemotional. But for some reason, she felt that this was special.
"Do you believe in me?" Hermione nearly squeaked, blushing at her professor's words.
Minerva's eyes softened to the point where the know-it-all was virtually gaping. "Of course I do, you silly girl," she rolled her eyes, choking softly on her own words.
The Minister was already shooting them dirty looks, but the press were eating it up. Everyone's eyes were on the untouchable, inflexible woman and her intelligent pupil. All it took was Minerva's lip to tremble slightly, and Hermione practically jumped her.
The girl hugged her tightly around the waist, constricting her breathing. McGonagall wrapped her own arms around Hermione, and gently rocked her back and forth when the girl began to sob. "Shh…" she whispered softly. "Tá muinín agam ort."
Hermione slowly pulled out of the embrace. "Cronaím thú."
Minerva grinned, impressed. "Agus mise."
"Thank you for everything, Professor McGonagall," Hermione said formally, effectively ending their Gaelic conversation.
The woman nodded back to her, then turned to greet the next student. Hermione shook hands with Slughorn, who complimented her on quite an interesting display. She nodded cheerfully back, then stepped off the platform, heading for the seats.
She remembered her words to Harry at the end of their fourth year: "Everything's going to change now, isn't it?"
She shook her head at her own naïvety. Everything changes constantly, and it was comical how she used to think she could predict it. Change is as necessary as breathing.
Harry plopped down next to her, throwing his arms about her and planting a kiss on the corner of her mouth. "Wow, we're actually done here," he breathed, amazed.
Hermione laughed at her best friend. "No way," she corrected him, catching the sparkling eye of Minerva McGonagall and winking at her professor, who would make sure that this castle always had a place for her. "We'll never be done with Hogwarts. Everything is going to change, but now we can say we will always be able to come home," she laughed, spreading her arms up and wide, as if trying to encompass Hogwarts in her arm span alone.
Harry nodded, agreeing as Ron ran up, lifting Hermione and spinning her around while Harry came up from behind them, squishing the know-it-all in between her two best friends.
"Still children, I suppose," Filius Flitwick said to his colleague.
"Not exactly. Rather adults who were never really allowed to bring out their childish side," Minerva corrected.
Filius chuckled. "I suppose you are right, as always. That was some hug, by the way."
Minerva smiled softly. "She deserved it, and I needed it."
And that was that.
HPHPHP
Um… Yeah…
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~lalala777~
