Chapter Thirty-three: A Grand Finale
James woke up at seven o'clock. It was very cold. He almost opened the curtains around his bed. However, he soon thought better of it, and drifted back to sleep.
James woke up at eight-twenty. Sirius was up; his voice was wafting through the boys' dormitory.
"Oi, James…"
But James was back asleep.
James woke up at eight-fifty-five. He tore out of bed and noticed that the dormitory was eerily quiet. It was Graduation Day. Graduation Ceremonies began at nine o'clock. Lily was going to slaughter him and hang his bones out to dry.
He ran around looking frantically for where he had placed his Head Boy Graduation Robes. They were no where to be seen. He checked his bed, the top of his canopy, Sirius' trunk, Sirius' bed, the floor. He ran to the common room and it still wasn't there.
Finally, he checked his own trunk. It was at the very top, wrapped in plastic fresh from the drycleaners with a note in Lily's handwriting – "Don't Be Late, Love Lils." But he already was? It was eight-fifty-eight. He threw on the robes, ran a hand through his untidy locks, and sprinted to the Great Hall.
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Lily Evans woke up at eight-thirty, had a quick breakfast, and got ready for the Graduation Ceremonies. She had done a sweet thing and gotten James' robes dry-cleaned for him to wear today. Perhaps she should go wake him up – but she didn't like going up the boys' dormitory stairs.
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Gerald Afbetoqui woke in his apartment in Hogsmeade at eight-thirty-five. He woke with the same headache that had greeted his mornings for as long as he could remember. He always had visions in the early morning – his blessing was a curse. Quickly, he separated the various images in his mind.
Today was going to be perfect.
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James arrived to skip up to his seat on the stage that was at the front of the Great Hall where the Head table was supposed to be. The four House tables were replaced by hundreds of seats for all of the adoring parents who were watching their children graduate. There was a smattering of underclass students – including the beaming Amy Moran – a sullen Lucy Phelps – and even Regulus Black. The graduates were sitting directly in front of the stage, in alphabetical order, all houses melded together. He glanced over them to find his friends –
Sirius Black was in the front row, next to his scowling, pale cousin Narcissa. His black hair was swept back, the bangs falling artfully past his ears. The dark, scarlet red was very becoming, and his blue eyes were twinkling. He was looking nervously at James, but longingly at Lummy, who was sitting a mere seat away from him. Damn that Chang boy!
Lummy or, as her nametag finally read, Luhrmalleen Delaware, was sitting next to her elder sister. Strange that she would be graduating a year earlier than planned – and what a year it was! Her deep green eyes were sparkling, a small smile curved into her mouth. She stared at James – why was he so late?
Ashley Turpin was lounging all the way in the back, her stunning blue robes were gathering at her feet, trying to pass notes to her best friend Clarissa Waters. Patrick Sweeney was trying to talk to her again, that clumsy oaf. Luckily, the good-natured boy was stuck next to Severus Snape, who hissed at him each time he tried to move. Remus Lupin almost fell asleep waiting for James, but a well placed throw from Gerald Afbetoqui woke him up.
Lily Evans watched James glance over the crowd. It seemed that every single student looked nervous or worried…except the imperturbable Gerald Aftbetoqui, who was as calm as ever as he peered nonchalantly at the lovely Harold Delaware. She twirled the ring on her finger. It was as beautiful as the day she had received it, although he had never spoken of marriage after his impassioned proposal.
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Dumbledore strode up to the podium, pointed his wand at his throat, and magically magnified his voice. The Great Hall became silent, and the lights suddenly dimmed.
"It is a pleasure to see that you seventh years have survived your years at Hogwarts. There was, of course, a time when such things were rare, although that time has thankfully passed. I myself have survived a good thirty or so years at this esteemed institution…therefore, I think the logic is that if I can, so shall you. However, such talk is mundane – and my speech is wanting – so I now give you Lillian Evans, our Head Girl."
James watched Lily stride up to the podium, her lovely auburn hair thrown behind her. She looked…nervous, perhaps? She cleared her throat, and the Great Hall looked oddly blurry behind her silhouetted form. And at that moment, as cliché and awkward as it sounded in his mind, James knew that she was the most beautiful thing that he had ever encountered.
"I didn't think that Hogwarts was the school for me when I arrived here. The students were capable of magic; a skill I thought didn't exist. My so-called magical abilities were merely coincidences, freaks of nature that had turned my sister and former-best-friend Petunia against me. I was ready to leave almost as soon as I had disembarked the platform.
But day by day, I was able to do it, feel the warmth in my fingers as a spell appeared upon my lips. And soon, I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. I couldn't imagine being anything else.
… So here I am, proud and honored to be your Head Girl, and just as proud and honored to be affianced to your very own Head Boy – and former Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, and amazed that the world I never thought mine would own me so shortly afterwards. Thank you, Hogwarts Class of Nineteen-Seventy-Eight!"
That seemed to be James' cue to stand. But – how funny – his feet were stuck to the floor. It was odd how the Great Hall was actually made of a new variety of adhesive. He finally stood up as Lily sat back down, and moved slowly to the podium. He had no idea what to say.
"Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, witches and wizards…the Hogwarts Great Hall proudly presents –
Well, actually, just me, I suppose. Well, first off – I suppose congratulations are in order…not to all of you, although graduation is fair enough, but to the man I am proud and humbled to know – Monsieur Blaque, the Hogwarts record-holder for most detentions received, a number in the thousands, I believe,"
James paused for the collective groan from the audience. Sirius stood up, did a tiny mock bow, and sat back down.
"But enough drunken debauchery, I am here to impart advice, especially to all those who strive to be butchers, bakers, and candlestick makers. Not to mention a few friends of mine who have a calling to be knife throwers and traveling musicians. Firstly, there is an excellent candlestick making enterprise already underway, and therefore I suggest that those headed to that career path rethink their choices. However, more importantly, enjoy what you do, damnit! Nobody cares how many Galleons you truck home if you are grouchy.
…In any case, despite my propensity to impart faulty advice, I hope you are satisfied, and pleased with the last speech that James Potter will ever give. Adios, la clase del ano setenta-ocho!"
Once James sat down, Dumbledore stood again. Strangely enough, he beckoned towards Sirius to stand. There was a wave of whispers – why was Sirius being called to the podium? He wasn't the Head Boy or Head Girl! Only Gerald Afbetoqui did not appear the least bit surprised – he knew that Sirius Black had been present at the Hogwarts Graduation Ceremonies since the tender age of thirteen.
"I am sure that a number of you are suitably surprised to see me in front of all of you – after all, I do have the most detentions ever received, one thousand-three hundred-and seventy-four, to be precise. Most of them imparted by mein most beloved, Minerva McGonagall."
Sirius gave a nod to Professor McGonagall, who blushed surprisingly.
"However, I have been giving out the Sirius Black Fan Girl Award for many years thus far. It is given to a girl in the graduating class who has demonstrated love of learning, kindness, deportment, and high achievement. Past winners include Gwenog Jones, Miriam Strout, and post-graduation honors were awarded to Millicent Bagnold."
Sirius paused obligingly as many in the audience offered shocked gasps, including Professor Slughorn, whose eyes had grown wide with excitement with Sirius' name-dropping.
"It is therefore my great delight, and supreme pleasure, to present this year's SBFGA to…"
The audience was waiting with bated breath, although Ashley Turpin had prematurely dusted off her robes as though she was preparing to walk down the center aisle to receive the prestigious prize.
"…Sasha Tsukino."
Another collective gasp was held, as a very surprised Sasha Tsukino stepped out of her seat. It appeared as though every single member of the SBFC was staring at her with unmitigated dislike. Sasha herself was staring unflatteringly at Sirius in disbelief. Remus looked tremendously jealous of his friend. Sirius took one haughty look around the Great Hall, cleared his throat, and began once more –
"You may all be wondering…in fact, I am quite sure that you are wondering, given your shocked visages and slack jawed expressions, what has prompted this choice. Contrary to popular belief, I am not the entire committee. However, I supported this particular choice wholeheartedly. Why was this award not given to Head Girl Lillian Evans – who surely demonstrates each of these characteristics? Or President of the SBFC Ashley Turpin – who is certainly a paragon of achievement? Perhaps even our newest students – Harold Afbetoqui…" Gerald had just joined the remainder of the crowd in slack jawed disbelief "…and Luhrmalleen Delaware were worthy? I think we can all agree that my favorite person in the world is Lummy. However, let me ask you – who helps every single first year who has a question about a class, at any time? Who was Ravenclaw prefect for three years? Who offered to manage the Ravenclaw Quidditch team despite certain bad experiences with the game? Therefore, I hope you will all join me in applauding Hogwarts' very own, Sasha Tsukino."
Sirius gave Sasha a trophy that appeared to be a little girl surrounded by a hag, a werewolf, and a fwooper. Sasha smiled, gave Sirius a friendly kiss on the cheek (which was caught by the photographers from Witch Weekly and the Magical Enquirer) and said only three words.
"Oh, the irony."
Dumbledore got up from his stately chair, and announced,
"Congratulations, Class of Nineteen-Seventy-Eight!"
A flurry of tasseled hats were tossed into the air, yielding a pleasing mixture of scarlet, green, black, and grey, accenting the Hogwarts' crest.
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Only seven months after my own high school graduation…
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