Harry paused at the door, surveying the room. Clumps of people roamed
the great hall, platters levitating around them, piled high with finger
sandwiches. In the corner there were instruments playing themselves, and
the enchanted ceiling had rearranged the stars to read:
"Welcome to Hogwarts' Ten Year Reunion!"
Harry looked down at the enchanted pamphlet, that told him exactly where everyone in the room was. There, his dot was green, with his initials on them. He spotted a purple dot moving faster than the other that were marked with a 'H.W.' He frowned...the dot was racing towards his dot, what...?
Harry was nearly knocked over by a whirlwind of hair and lips and arms.
"Harry we're so glad you came! I was worried you wouldn't show, what with the big quidditch match coming up, how have you been? Have you..." Harry easily tuned Hermione out, and smiled at the tall, slightly balding redhead.
"Hey Ron." He greeted, and they shook hands awkwardly, both painfully aware that they'd grown too far apart to hug.
"Come on Harry, let's go sit down!" Hermione caught his arm, jerking him to the table. Harry caught Ron's sympathetic glance, and grinned enduringly.
"Well I don't suppose I have to ask what you're doing lately, we keep a scrapbook of all your news clippings." Harry was touched by the sentiment, and let a small smile develop on his face as Hermione chatted on, flashing pictures of their daughter, a tiny thing surrounded by giant red curls, bragging about how successful Ron's muggle business was going (Ron lifted his head proudly when she mentioned that), and describing the fascinating discovery she'd made with Sidgeon mold. As she explained the characteristics of this painfully boring subject, Harry realized that behind Hermione, Ron was lipping the exact words she spoke, as if he'd memorized this. Harry raised his eyebrow, and his smile widened.
"Anyway when it's very very old it turns a dark green color, and develops these spots, I see you Ron Weasley!" Hermione whirled around to scold Ron, and Harry, chuckling, found a familiar face. Neville approached, and greeted them all with hearty handshakes, and a kiss on the cheek for Hermione.
"'Lo Hermione, Harry, Ron. This is my wife, Celia. Celia, these are my old mates from Hogwarts." Neville beamed with pride, watching them all take in his wife. His veela wife.
"Bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, clapping Neville on the back, and then cringing from the glare Hermione sent him.
"Oh you got married? How wonderful. Have you any children?" Celia shook her head smiling shyly. "Not yet, but maybe soon." Neville took her hand, and Celia looked upon him affectionately.
"Well I'm going to see my old professor, bye all!" There was a chorus of "Goodbye Neville" and he was gone.
"Wow." Harry sat back down, reaching for a drink, "Neville looks really happy."
"Yes well he deserves it, what with the hard childhood he had. And his wife is so sweet! Did you see how they looked at each other? She adores him."
"He certainly does seem more confident."
The music stopped, and everyone looked to the stage expectantly. With a cloud of smoke, a very tall, very old wizard appeared.
"Dumbledore." Harry whispered, overwhelmed with emotions as he watched his old headmaster clear his throat.
"Welcome, welcome everyone. I am very pleased to see how successful the outcome of this reunion was. You all seem happy, successful, but remember this; No matter how much older you look, or how much wiser you feel, you will always have something new to learn."
Harry scowled at this, momentarily reliving just how true that statement was. He had survived the wrath of the Dark Lord, had eventually learned to live without constantly looking over his shoulder, had even grown up to become one of the most famous seekers in history. But no matter what, he never truly had control of his own life, ever since the day he was placed on the Dursley's doorstep; he had a fate and could not escape it.
Harry shook away his bitter mood, and returned his attention to the speech.
"...You are all invited to stay for the night, of course the rooms have been enchanted for the occasion, and you will all receive your own sleeping chambers. In the morning there will be a lovely breakfast." There was applause, and Harry clapped heartily, noticing the teachers coming in from a side door. There weren't many left from his era; McGonagal was still here, looking as stern as ever. Snape as well, was still slithering about, his hair now a solid gray. Hagrid had died of heart problems the year before, Harry and Dumbledore had been the only to show for the funeral.
Harry silently berated himself for such glum memories, and turned to say something to Ron, but instead movement near the door caught his eye.
Harry had read about ones' heart skipping a beat in books and such, but had never experienced this first hand, until he spotted the sleek blonde gliding into the room. Skip. Harry's heart sped up, seemingly to make up for the missed beat, and Harry swallowed hard.
The years had been good to Draco, as shown by his gleaming hair, slicked back as always, and his pale skin fairly and aglow. His face has matured to look much like his fathers, sharper profile, fuller lips, and the Malfoy cheekbones that somehow made him look like royalty. To his right was a daintily perfect girl. Her hair was a long cascade of ebony, her face crafted delicately and her eyes a razor sharp green, darker than Harry's. He felt something, a queasy feeling come over him as he realized the resemblance between this girl and himself.
Beside him, Harry knew without looking that Ron was tensing up, his hands tightening into fists, and Hermione was stroking his shoulder soothingly. He suddenly felt everything change, could almost hear the click as they regressed back into their childhood personalities, a costume that fit so well Harry wondered if they hadn't been lurking just beneath their skin the whole time.
"Welcome to Hogwarts' Ten Year Reunion!"
Harry looked down at the enchanted pamphlet, that told him exactly where everyone in the room was. There, his dot was green, with his initials on them. He spotted a purple dot moving faster than the other that were marked with a 'H.W.' He frowned...the dot was racing towards his dot, what...?
Harry was nearly knocked over by a whirlwind of hair and lips and arms.
"Harry we're so glad you came! I was worried you wouldn't show, what with the big quidditch match coming up, how have you been? Have you..." Harry easily tuned Hermione out, and smiled at the tall, slightly balding redhead.
"Hey Ron." He greeted, and they shook hands awkwardly, both painfully aware that they'd grown too far apart to hug.
"Come on Harry, let's go sit down!" Hermione caught his arm, jerking him to the table. Harry caught Ron's sympathetic glance, and grinned enduringly.
"Well I don't suppose I have to ask what you're doing lately, we keep a scrapbook of all your news clippings." Harry was touched by the sentiment, and let a small smile develop on his face as Hermione chatted on, flashing pictures of their daughter, a tiny thing surrounded by giant red curls, bragging about how successful Ron's muggle business was going (Ron lifted his head proudly when she mentioned that), and describing the fascinating discovery she'd made with Sidgeon mold. As she explained the characteristics of this painfully boring subject, Harry realized that behind Hermione, Ron was lipping the exact words she spoke, as if he'd memorized this. Harry raised his eyebrow, and his smile widened.
"Anyway when it's very very old it turns a dark green color, and develops these spots, I see you Ron Weasley!" Hermione whirled around to scold Ron, and Harry, chuckling, found a familiar face. Neville approached, and greeted them all with hearty handshakes, and a kiss on the cheek for Hermione.
"'Lo Hermione, Harry, Ron. This is my wife, Celia. Celia, these are my old mates from Hogwarts." Neville beamed with pride, watching them all take in his wife. His veela wife.
"Bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, clapping Neville on the back, and then cringing from the glare Hermione sent him.
"Oh you got married? How wonderful. Have you any children?" Celia shook her head smiling shyly. "Not yet, but maybe soon." Neville took her hand, and Celia looked upon him affectionately.
"Well I'm going to see my old professor, bye all!" There was a chorus of "Goodbye Neville" and he was gone.
"Wow." Harry sat back down, reaching for a drink, "Neville looks really happy."
"Yes well he deserves it, what with the hard childhood he had. And his wife is so sweet! Did you see how they looked at each other? She adores him."
"He certainly does seem more confident."
The music stopped, and everyone looked to the stage expectantly. With a cloud of smoke, a very tall, very old wizard appeared.
"Dumbledore." Harry whispered, overwhelmed with emotions as he watched his old headmaster clear his throat.
"Welcome, welcome everyone. I am very pleased to see how successful the outcome of this reunion was. You all seem happy, successful, but remember this; No matter how much older you look, or how much wiser you feel, you will always have something new to learn."
Harry scowled at this, momentarily reliving just how true that statement was. He had survived the wrath of the Dark Lord, had eventually learned to live without constantly looking over his shoulder, had even grown up to become one of the most famous seekers in history. But no matter what, he never truly had control of his own life, ever since the day he was placed on the Dursley's doorstep; he had a fate and could not escape it.
Harry shook away his bitter mood, and returned his attention to the speech.
"...You are all invited to stay for the night, of course the rooms have been enchanted for the occasion, and you will all receive your own sleeping chambers. In the morning there will be a lovely breakfast." There was applause, and Harry clapped heartily, noticing the teachers coming in from a side door. There weren't many left from his era; McGonagal was still here, looking as stern as ever. Snape as well, was still slithering about, his hair now a solid gray. Hagrid had died of heart problems the year before, Harry and Dumbledore had been the only to show for the funeral.
Harry silently berated himself for such glum memories, and turned to say something to Ron, but instead movement near the door caught his eye.
Harry had read about ones' heart skipping a beat in books and such, but had never experienced this first hand, until he spotted the sleek blonde gliding into the room. Skip. Harry's heart sped up, seemingly to make up for the missed beat, and Harry swallowed hard.
The years had been good to Draco, as shown by his gleaming hair, slicked back as always, and his pale skin fairly and aglow. His face has matured to look much like his fathers, sharper profile, fuller lips, and the Malfoy cheekbones that somehow made him look like royalty. To his right was a daintily perfect girl. Her hair was a long cascade of ebony, her face crafted delicately and her eyes a razor sharp green, darker than Harry's. He felt something, a queasy feeling come over him as he realized the resemblance between this girl and himself.
Beside him, Harry knew without looking that Ron was tensing up, his hands tightening into fists, and Hermione was stroking his shoulder soothingly. He suddenly felt everything change, could almost hear the click as they regressed back into their childhood personalities, a costume that fit so well Harry wondered if they hadn't been lurking just beneath their skin the whole time.