Author's Notes: More description, more angst, and more foreshadowing in this chapter. Doesn't it feel good to payless?
Yay random inserting of slogans…
***
"Hey, Professor G, can I have a word?"
Hermione's head snapped up as she was jolted out of her own little world. She looked around her classroom, bewildered. It was Monday morning, a week after Harry's departure. Hermione hadn't slept since, making her extremely tired and somewhat delirious. That morning, Professor McGonagall had had to forcibly stop Hermione from buttering her goblet of pumpkin juice and drinking her toast.
At the moment, however, her entire class was watching her intently with smiles on their faces. A few of the girls were giggling. Paul White, looking as healthy and as cheeky as ever, was leaning against her desk, holding something behind his back.
"If that's a firework, trick wand, or any type of device used for squirting water at people behind your back, you have detention," Professor Granger said bluntly.
Paul sighed, and ignoring her warning, hitched a leg up onto the Arithmancy teacher's desk. "You see, Professor - "
"Get off my desk."
Paul obeyed, hopping off nonchalantly. "To be quite frank, the class is worried about you."
Hermione stared at him incredulously. Behind Paul, a few people nodded and murmured their agreements.
"You're sad that Harry Potter left," someone in the back piped up.
"I'm sad that Harry Potter left," Flora Canter sighed heavily, pausing in the midst of applying a thick layer of lip-gloss to look away longingly.
"And the class decided to pitch in to get you a little something! You know, to cheer you up!" Paul continued brightly, removing his hand from behind his back and dropping something into Hermione's hand. The Arithmancy professor stared at it.
"Three Bertie Botts' Every Flavoured Beans?" she said wryly, peering into the bag Paul had just handed her.
"Er, yeah," Paul replied sheepishly. "I got hungry in Charms."
"I appreciate the concern," Hermione said briskly, "but if everyone spent as much time doing their homework as they did worrying about my personal life, perhaps many of you wouldn't have failed that last test. May I remind you all that exams are coming up?"
Everyone groaned.
"If you haven't started revising by now, I strongly, strongly suggest you begin immediately," Hermione warned. "Better late than never."
Paul seemed unfazed. "Ah yes, that reminds me - can I skip the exam in this class, seeing as I was in a state of enchanted slumber for six months?"
"No," Hermione replied dryly. "You'll make up lost time during the summer and take the exam when you return next September."
"Ah. Well, it was worth a try." Paul shrugged as he strolled back to his desk. The second he touched the chair, the bell rang for lunch. Everyone hopped up and hurried out of the classroom, shoving and jostling to get out first. Hermione sighed as she stood up and began to wipe the blackboards clean - she could have done it with her wand, but she felt that doing some things the Muggle way prevented witches and wizards from becoming lazy. Not to mention that watching the white chalk disappear after a swift stroke of Hermione's brush was oddly satisfying.
A glance over her shoulder revealed a classroom in disarray: chairs were toppled over, desks were crooked, and someone had left their heavy, royal blue textbook on their desk. Sighing, Hermione grabbed Ancient Arithmancy: An Academic Approach, and hurried out the door, hoping to catch the scatter-brained pupil who had left it behind in order to give it back to them, though she didn't know why she bothered – none of them seemed to be taking her revision advice to heart, anyway -
"Oomph!" As Hermione exited the classroom, she bumped into something very solid, tall, and nice-smelling with red hair. Slowly she gazed up into the face of Ron Weasley.
"Hullo," Ron grinned, handing Hermione back the textbook, which seemed to have somehow ended up in his arms. "Going somewhere?"
Hermione couldn't stand to look at him. Every time she had this past week, it had only been accompanied by a heart-wrenching feeling.
"Knut for your thoughts?" Ron said presently. When Hermione did not respond, he shrugged and grinned. "I'll tell you what I'm thinking," he said in a low voice, glancing around the corridor to make sure no one was around.
"We can go to dinner, and then perhaps dance the night away at a classy, chic restaurant I know of around these parts," Ron said in a sophisticated voice. He abruptly broke into a cheeky smile. "Okay, so it's the Three Broomsticks, but after a few Butterbeers, and if you squint real hard, it'll sometimes look classy and chic…" He grinned and leaned down to kiss her.
"Ron, stop it," Hermione muttered, pushing away from him. She took a step backwards and folded her arms, consequently clutching the textbook to her chest.
"What? It was only a joke - " Ron frowned and his eyes clouded as Hermione looked away. "What's wrong?" he demanded as Hermione increased the distance between them.
"Do you know what today is?" Hermione asked miserably.
"Monday?" Ron tried.
"No. It's the twenty-eighth of May."
Ron blinked. "So?"
Hermione took a deep breath and looked at the floor. "Which means that the school year is over in less than two weeks. Which means that you're leaving in less than two weeks," she said very quickly.
"Oh," Ron said uncomfortably, chewing his bottom lip. "That."
Hermione laughed bitterly. "Ironic, isn't it? We had all year together, and by the time I finally realized that you're not an ignorant, reckless, danger-seeking prat - "
"Thanks," Ron said sarcastically.
" - you have to leave," Hermione finished forlornly. She sniffed rather loudly. Don't cry, she hissed to herself. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't -
Hermione felt something hot and wet slowly roll down her cheek, and promptly began to hate herself.
"Aw, Hermione, don't cry," Ron said hastily, hurrying over to comfort her. Hermione sobbed uncontrollably into Ron's shoulder, hiccuping every now and then. Between sobs she took great gasps of breath, feeling Ron rub her back comfortingly as she did so. When her shoulders had finally stopped shaking, Ron shyly kissed the top of Hermione's curly head and held her at arm's length.
"I'll visit all the time," he promised. "Auror's privileges, remember?"
"I'm not stupid, Ron," Hermione said flatly, her lips turned slightly downwards and her eyes red-rimmed. "I know the responsibilities of an Auror. You can't just Apparate wherever you want, whenever you want. You're often gone for months, years at a time. You're not even allowed to contact your friends and family sometimes." She put her hands on her hips, fighting tooth and nail against the tears which threatened to surface again.
Ron was staring at her, looking both bewildered and hurt. "You did research on Aurors, didn't you?" he asked slowly.
"I read a book," Hermione retorted defensively. She felt the tears recede. It was so much easier to be angry at Ron than to be depressed because of him. "So I suppose that means that you are going to leave?"
"It's not like I have a choice, Hermione," Ron said slowly.
"I understand," said Hermione in a tone which clearly indicated that she did not understand.
"Look, Hermione…" Ron's voice was strained as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "You…you don't understand, all right?"
"What's there to understand?" Hermione said coldly. And then she watched as, slowly, Ron's hands balled into fists, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. Alarms sounded in Hermione's head, warning her that a fight was approaching. Hermione clenched her own fists; she was ready for it.
"What's there to understand?" Ron repeated in disbelief, the volume of his voice slowly rising. "Well, it is only my job! People count on me, you know!"
"Like who?" Hermione retorted harshly.
Ron stared at her. "Oh, I don't know…the Ministry of Magic, perhaps? Harry, perhaps? But they're not important, right?" he snapped sarcastically.
"Oh, what - I'm not important now?" Hermione demanded shrilly.
Ron ignored her, now breathing hard and becoming rather red in the face. "Yes, it's not the easiest of jobs at times, but I can't just stroll up to the Minister for Magic and announce, 'Sorry, sir, can't fight evil anymore! Hermione wants me to stay at Hogwarts!'" he bellowed.
Those words struck a nerve. Hermione faltered; she didn't seem to have a comeback for that, and by the exhausted, post-fight look Ron was now sporting, he knew it. Hermione suddenly felt extremely selfish and immature - who was she to ask Ron to stay at Hogwarts? He wasn't just going to quit his job to be with her. She wasn't sure what had put that fanciful, idiotic idea in her head. Hermione felt extremely stupid.
Ron's shoulders slumped. "Look," he said in a tired voice. "I'll admit being an Auror's not always fun. In fact, sometimes it's downright difficult. Do you know how many times I've wished I could just settle down someplace nice and not have to run all over the bloody world, risking my life for a bunch of Muggles who don't even know wizards exist? Oh, and let's not forget the actual wizards, half of whom think that having Aurors is a waste of time and money now that Voldemort's gone." He sighed heavily and met Hermione's eyes with his own. "But I have obligations. I have responsibilities. I knew what I was getting into when I decided to become an Auror, and if I don't like that now, then tough."
He was right. And, furthermore, his words were those of a mature, even wise, adult. Feeling childish, Hermione ran a hand through her disheveled hair as the bell signaling the end of lunch rang. She hadn't realized how long their little row had lasted. "This is stupid," she said softly. "You have to leave soon, and I'll miss you, but life goes on, right?" She didn't even sound convincing to herself.
"Right," Ron murmured, taking the opportunity to hug her tightly before the students returned from lunch.
Hermione muttered something about composing herself, and headed towards the staff toilets, leaving Ron alone in the hall.
***
As Hermione turned her back and disappeared around the corner, Ron stood still and silent. Then, quite unexpectedly, he let out a frustrated yell and savagely punched the suit of armour nearest to him. The clang of his fist hitting rusty metal echoed throughout the hallway and followed Ron as he spun around and started walking back to his class.
***
"You made her cry?"
"Shut up," Ron Weasley muttered savagely, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace in his bedroom, where Harry Potter's head was sitting amidst emerald green flames. They licked at his glasses, occasionally fogging them up. "I feel bad enough as it is…"
"Yeah," Harry said, sounding a bit impatient. "Can we talk about my extremely important mission now?" he asked sarcastically, though his face, even amongst the flames, looked pale, and there were bags beneath his green eyes.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, a false alarm is extremely important now? You got there, figured out it was a fake, and left – no harm done." Ron scowled, still pre-occupied with thoughts of Hermione to care much for Ministry matters. "What's the big deal anyway? They're just a bunch of old scrolls," he muttered.
"Just a bunch of old scrolls?!" Harry exclaimed. "Are you mad? We're damn lucky that the Ministry discovered where the first four were hidden before anyone else did…can you imagine if they were to get into the wrong hands? And we still don't know where the fifth is - "
"Harry, shut up," Ron said sharply, glancing around as if he expected to see someone lurking in the shadows. "I thought we agreed that we were not to discuss the specifics…out loud."
"You just want to talk about your little Hermione dilemma," Harry pointed out wryly.
Ron looked defeated. "So what if I do? It's not like I have anyone else to talk about it with..." He suddenly snorted as a mental image of him asking Professor McGonagall for love advice popped into his head.
"That's right - the safety of Mugglekind takes second place to Ron and Hermione's ongoing love affair," Harry sighed. "All right, go on then. Talk all you want."
"Look, I know what you're doing right now is important," Ron said, now feeling guilty and quite selfish. "But if you blokes have four of them in safe-keeping, then there's really nothing to worry about, right?"
Harry shook his head. He opened his mouth as if to reply, and then closed it again. "So what's wrong with Hermione?" he asked with a small sigh.
Ron shot his partner a queer look, but gratefully accepted the invitation to talk. "I don't know…she just started acting strangely a few days ago - we haven't spoken about it since - and crying and such, because I have to leave at the end of the year. But I told her I'll visit - "
"You know that's not always possible, right?" Harry interrupted.
"Yeah, apparently she does, too. She read up on Aurors."
"How very Hermione-esque."
"So I told her I couldn't just quit my job and stay at Hogwarts forever so we can both live happily ever after." Ron's voice sounded forced. "I mean, I have a job to do, right?"
Harry was now watching Ron's face intently. Ron noticed and shifted uncomfortably. "What?" he finally demanded after a few moments of this.
"You want to stay, don't you?" Harry said slowly.
"Don't be a bloody idiot - "
"You like teaching," Harry interrupted. "I can tell."
Ron looked away, staring hard at one of his bedroom windows. A few students were practising disarming each other on the grounds. As a particularly strong disarming spell hit one of the students, he toppled backwards, laughing madly. "So?" Ron muttered, tearing his gaze away from the window. "What do you propose I do - quit valiantly attempting to save the world every week and become a Hogwarts professor?" Ron asked sarcastically. He was met by a temporary silence on Harry's part.
"You know what, Ron?" Harry finally responded quietly. "Teaching those kids to defend themselves…knowing that what you teach them could help save their lives in the future…that's a hell of a lot more valiant than this, mate." He glanced around the fireplace, as if indicating his real surroundings. "You don't know how lucky you are. I wish I had the skills or patience for teaching, but I don't. So I do this instead. It's my way of trying to make things right in the world. Yours could be different. You know?"
Ron was silent. He briefly started pacing the room, and then abruptly turned around to stare at Harry's head in the fireplace. The two Aurors exchanged a meaningful look. No words were needed; they seldom were between the two best friends.
"What about you?" Ron asked in a hoarse voice, lowering his eyes to the ground.
Harry smiled. "I can find another partner," he assured him.
Ron began pacing the room again, half-excited, half-doubtful about the decision he was teetering on making. "You're sure, then?" he said finally, ceasing his pacing.
"I just want you to be happy," Harry replied with a smile. "You're really annoying when you're not."
Ron let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, and sunk onto his enormous, four-poster bed.
"Anyway, we had a good seven years…longer than a lot of blokes have lasted," Harry pointed out.
Ron glanced up at Harry's head. "Thanks, mate," he murmured quietly.
"Don't thank me, thank Moody. And Foran. Once you've owled them your resignations and they've accepted it, that is."
Ron swore and leaped up. "I'd forgotten about them! And seventh year graduation's in an hour!" He hastily grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill, and then looked around the room in a puzzled way. "I don't…have an owl, do I?"
The green flames danced around Harry's grin. "No, Ron," he stated. "No, you don't."
"How am I gonna owl them, then?" Ron demanded frantically, running a hand through his hair. It stuck up awkwardly, making him look even more frazzled.
"Use a school owl?" Harry suggested slowly.
"Of course! Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed. He began to dash out the door, and then spun around, nearly knocking his mirror over in the process. It shrieked and jumped out of the way.
"Thanks again," Ron said sincerely. "Visit sometime, okay? When you can."
Harry smiled, but it seemed somehow forced. "'Course I will," he promised.
Ron nodded, grinning, and bolted out the door.
"You should probably talk to Dumbledore too!" Harry yelled after him.
Ron hollered a loud "Thanks!" and sped off down the hall.
***
Harry Potter's head remained in his friend's fireplace. He hadn't told Ron everything. He hadn't told him that the one missing scroll could cause more harm than he could imagine. He hadn't told him that there had been more rumours flying around about its whereabouts. And he hadn't told him that, with the last false alarm, the Ministry – and the Aurors – were beginning to panic. Despite the promise he had made Ron, Harry knew that he wouldn't be able to visit. Not until the fifth scroll was found.
Harry groaned, thinking of all the work that awaited him in his cramped office at Headquarters. His lack of a partner had resulted in double the work for him this past year, and now with Ron resigning for good, one thing was obvious to Harry – he couldn't continue alone. He was going to need a new partner.
"Well?" Ron's mirror said irritably, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "Are you going to hang around in there all day?"
Throwing the mirror a dirty look, Harry sighed, his head vanishing with a pop.
***
Hermione sat amidst the other teachers, watching as this year's graduating class marched into the Great Hall in single file. She winced as several bright flashes illuminated the Great Hall - many parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and other relations were snapping pictures wildly, gushing and whispering amongst themselves as the group of grinning students made their way into the enormous hall. They stood in a group before the Head Table, pausing before splitting into their separate houses and taking their seats at the house tables. Today, as far as the students were concerned, there were no houses. They were all graduating together, rifts, fights, and house competition forgotten.
When the flashes of light - which almost resembled lightning and completed the effect of the clouded enchanted ceiling - had stopped, Albus Dumbledore rose from his seat, looking very dignified. He patiently waited while one Muggle parent's camera made an extremely loud whirring noise as the film rewound. All eyes turned to the sandy-haired man, who blushed furiously and tried to muffle the sound by cupping his hands around the camera.
"Another year has passed," Dumbledore began once the whirring had desisted. He spoke quietly, but his voice seemed to fill the Great Hall, reaching each and every attentive ear. "And we have gathered here today to see a new generation of young witches and wizards begin their journey into the real world."
The speech was painfully familiar to each of the teachers; it varied slightly from year to year, but there was only so much one could do creatively when it came to the annual graduation speech. A quick glance down the table, and Hermione saw that Ron's seat was still empty. An agonizing thought suddenly occurred to her - what if he had already left Hogwarts? But that was impossible; graduation took place the week before the rest of the students took their final exams. Ron wouldn't just leave before his own classes' exams, would he? And without saying goodbye? A glance to Hermione's right revealed another empty chair. Furrowing her eyebrows, Hermione was abruptly brought back to reality as Dumbledore continued his speech.
"This year," he remarked, "has been particularly difficult. Yet this group of students, along with the rest of the school, has shown extraordinary bravery, obedience, and most importantly, maturity. And for that, I thank them."
A burst of applause echoed throughout the Great Hall. Quite a few of the students blushed.
"It is custom at this time," Dumbledore continued, "for me to share some parting words of wisdom. But I feel this group, quite like another such group of students that I had the pleasure of seeing off at this time seven years ago," Dumbledore's eyes flickered over to Hermione briefly, then returned to the faces before him, "does not need them. This is one of the finest groups of students that I have ever had the great honour of serving as headmaster over. They will make wonderful additions to the wizarding community."
As applause echoed throughout the hall again, Dumbledore turned his attention to the crowd of seventh-year students. His eyes seemed to linger on each and every eager face. "And so the only thing I have to say to you all is this: I have been told there are a few job openings in the Department of Magical Security and Defense, and that Mr. Mayers, the Department Head, is accepting resumes." The headmaster's eyes twinkled as many people chuckled and then a roar of applause resounded throughout the hall once more.
"But enough talk," the headmaster said dismissively. He spread his arms wide. "Bon appetite!"
Exclamations of wonder were heard from many parents and relatives, particularly the Muggle ones, as heaps of delicious food magically appeared on every plate in the hall. Students rushed over to their house tables, where their relations had also been squeezed in. Chatter instantly filled the Great Hall as parents crooned over their sons and daughters, fixing their pointy graduation hats and fussing over their black robes, or just simply beaming proudly at their children while they shovelled food into their mouths. Hermione tore her eyes away from the happy picture and stared at her lonely potatoes. They stared back at her.
All throughout the feast, Hermione kept occasionally glancing over at Ron's empty seat, but in vain; he didn't show up during the first course, or the second, or the third. He even missed dessert. Hermione had finally resigned herself to accepting the fact that he'd either left Hogwarts, or was extremely ill and could not attend the feast. By the time the plates were magically wiped clean, she was trying to decide if she should leave the celebration to go search for him. Coming to the conclusion that she was over-reacting, Hermione sat back in her chair and watched everyone sigh contentedly as the feast concluded. A few of the students began to fidget excitedly. As Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall both rose to their feet, to hand out the diplomas as well as the awards for that year, a hush fell over the Great Hall. Quite a few curious lower year students hurried into the Great Hall to watch the ceremonies. While they were not allowed to participate in the graduation feast, all other students were permitted to watch the ceremonies, and think wistfully of the day when they, too, would graduate from Hogwarts.
"Jacob Alberta," Professor McGonagall read from the long scroll of parchment in her hands. Jacob, grinning from ear to ear, rushed up to the Head Table to receive his diploma from Dumbledore. He raised it in the air triumphantly to a few laughs, then hurried back to his spot.
"Maximilian Brady." The eccentric Gryffindor Quidditch captain, who, for the past few days, could have been seen sulking around the halls after Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup, looked considerably happier as he received his diploma. Professor Oliver Wood gave Max a thumbs-up before he sat down.
Hermione's eyes were fixated on the doors to the Great Hall throughout the ordeal, mindlessly clapping every once and a while with the rest of the teachers. The names called out went in one ear and out the other, and she was only startled back to reality as Professor Sinistra nudged her, hissing that she had to give out the Arithmancy award. Hermione stood up, delivered a short speech about the student's hard work and dedication in her class, and then handed out the award to an ecstatic Joanna Somerset. As she sat back down, Hermione suddenly perked up. The Defense Against the Dark Arts Award would be handed out next. She glanced around, but Ron still was not in sight. Dumbledore didn't miss a beat, however; he smoothly continued the presentation, handing out the award himself. Hermione prepared to tune out again, but the next announcement caught her attention.
"Before Professor Trelawney awards the Divination award," Dumbledore began slowly, "I must make an announcement. I am sad to announce that for Sybill Trelawney, our excellent Divination professor, the next school year will be her last at Hogwarts."
No one seemed very devastated by this, despite Dumbledore's moving tone. Hermione tried not to imagine what the delighted look on Ron's face would have been like had he been there.
"I would like to sincerely thank Professor Trelawney for all the hard work and dedication she has devoted to the Divination program at Hogwarts. She will be sorely missed, but we wish her luck in all her future endeavours," Dumbledore continued. He smiled at Professor Trelawney, who raised a handkerchief to her eyes and dabbed at them delicately, clutching her glittering green shawl around her shoulders with her other hand. Hermione tried not to roll her eyes.
"Professor Trelawney has chosen her successor, a very talented student who, coincidentally, is receiving the Divination award this evening." Dumbledore looked to Professor Trelawney, but she urged him to continue on himself with an emotional wave of her hand. Dumbledore turned to face the crowd once more. "This student will apprentice with Professor Trelawney next year, and will take over the Divination post at Hogwarts the following year, when Professor Trelawney leaves. It is my pleasure then, to introduce you to your new Divination professor, and to award the Divination award to…Miss Rowan Richardson."
Hermione's jaw dropped as Rowan, blushing furiously, was nudged up to the Head Table by her surprised, but cheering, classmates. She shyly accepted the award from Professor Trelawney and shook the headmaster's hand. The staff all rose to their feet and applauded, though many of them looked as shocked as Rowan's classmates. Shy, quiet, hard-working but not spectacularly bright Rowan Richardson, awarded the Divination award and a teaching job at Hogwarts? Dumbledore did not usually give out teaching posts to graduating students – Hermione had been one of the very few whom he had chosen to employ directly after graduation. As the shock wore off, Hermione sunk back into her chair, feeling gloomier than before, if possible. Who would be filling the vacant Defense Against the Dark Arts position in September?
Tuning out again, Hermione rested her chin on her hand, staring into space. Cheers and shouts fell silent on her inattentive ears as Dumbledore concluded the ceremony, congratulating the class one final time. Time seemed to slow down as the graduates jumped to their feet, hurling their black, pointy hats into the air. As the cloud of black rose to the enchanted sky, it seemed to hang there for a moment. Hermione looked down into the graduate's faces and imagined she saw her own amongst them, Ron and Harry by her side. Soon after their own graduation, they'd both left her. And now, after these last few precious weeks, Harry had left her again, with Ron soon to follow suit.
Hermione blinked; time returned to normal as the hats descended upon their owners, who were now hugging, cheering and laughing, filling the Great Hall with noise. Their relatives all stood up, joining the crowd of students as they began to trickle out of the hall. Hermione slowly stood, getting ready to leave the Great Hall and be miserable in peace.
Then a flash of bright red caught her eye amongst the sea of black. She felt a wave of relief wash over her; Ron had not left yet. Hermione watched, puzzled, as Ron pushed through the crowd of students and parents, yelling something at her. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows and stepped down from the Head Table.
"Pardon?" she shouted over the dull roar in the Great Hall.
Ron hollered something again, but his words were drowned out by the incessant, loud chattering of the students. Feeling mildly annoyed, Hermione tried to fight her way through the crowd of students, parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, and teachers to get closer to Ron. She suddenly jumped backwards as Ron tumbled towards her, pushed and jostled by several people. An enormous smile lit up his face as he spotted her. His eyes were dancing with excitement.
"I'm staying!" Ron shouted loudly, grabbing Hermione's hands. Hermione went very rigid and stared at him, her heart leaping, daring to hope.
"You're staying?!" she hollered back in disbelief, her voice shaking slightly. Neither of them took any notice of the people jarring and bumping into them.
Ron's enthusiastic nod sent an electrifying, ecstatic feeling jolting through Hermione's body. Questions rapidly surfaced, unbidden: How? Why? What about his job? Harry? But her curiosity was over-ridden by sheer joy as she let out a shriek of delight and literally threw herself at a grinning Ron. She hugged him so tightly around his neck that Ron started choking and had to quickly pull away, gasping for breath but still grinning, somehow.
"But…Ron…Harry…what…" Hermione stammered, then quite abruptly grabbed Ron and pressed her lips against his. Heedless of the fact that they were in a crowded hall filled with students and parents, not to mention their co-workers, they stood there kissing for quite some time. The pair was abruptly interrupted by a loud whistle and some whooping and hollering from a few of the students. Hermione quickly pulled away, blushing furiously.
"Woo! Way to go, Professor G!" Roger Ramone and Paul White, who had come to watch the ceremonies, called simultaneously. They shrunk away as Hermione gave them a severe look, her face still crimson.
Still standing at the Head Table, Dumbledore watched these events, Professor McGonagall standing rigidly beside him.
"Oh…oh my," the Deputy Headmistress said, clearing her throat.
Albus Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
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