Back to School - Roll of Parchment
1st September - Eating at the Hogwarts feast
537 words.
Hermione took a deep breath. Here she was, back at the beginning. Only this time, she was on the other side. She was at the head of the main table, looking down on some very small eleven-year-olds, waiting nervously to be Sorted. She smiled at them, remembering how the twinkle in Dumbledore's eye had made her at ease.
The older students were already seated at their tables, some looking disinterested, some looking tired, and some talking excitedly of the Sorting. Neville stood before the first years, holding up a roll of parchment with the list of names on it.
Hermione had chosen Neville as her Deputy Head, not because he was her friend, not because he was now Head of Gryffindor, but because he - more than anyone - knew of the trials of high school. Plus, the students looked up to him. He had gained their trust in a way not even Harry could have, were he at the school.
As the children trickled to each of the Houses in turn, Hermione nervously rehearsed her speech in her head. All too soon, it was over, and Neville had tapped the side of his goblet to call for the students' attention.
Hermione stood up.
'As you might have guessed, Professor McGonagall is no longer with us. She has decided to retire, living a quiet life away from all of this madness.'
There was a smattering of laughter, mostly from the Gryffindor table.
'I have been chosen to fill her shoes, and what big shoes they are. Let us not forget that Minerva McGonagall was a defender of Hogwarts, a defender of peace, and most of all, my personal hero.
'When I first stepped into these halls, I was both excited and afraid. Excited, because I was finally going to learn about a little thing called magic, and afraid, because I feared that I wouldn't be accepted. You see, I had read of Muggleborn discrimination, and young though I was, I understood. And I believe that each and every one of you can understand that feeling too.
'So as I step up as the new headmistress of Hogwarts, I would also like to raise a toast to Albus Dumbledore. He was a great wizard, the very finest, and had made Hogwarts a safe place, when all else was lost. Let us not take that safety, the peace of Hogwarts for granted. Let us remember that each House has had good and bad wizards, and that each House is commendable for its traits.
'And in the spirit of Albus Dumbledore, I have but four things to say to you. Nitwit. Oddment. Blubber. Tweak.'
Hermione sat down, breathing heavily as the feast began. The students tore into the food with a gusto that only teenagers could manage.
'Well said, Hermione,' Neville leant over to whisper, as he reached his seat. 'We can't forget about the war, even if things are different now. They might not understand your speech now, but they'll remember it when the time comes.'
Hermione smiled and thanked her friend. Feeling a little hungry herself now that her nerves had settled, she reached for one of the plates the house-elves had recently added to the menu. Bouillabaisse. Her favourite.
