On the last day of my second last year of school, I hopped off the ship the moment we docked. I had boarded the ship dressed like a muggle, wearing all the old clothing I could spare - thick denim jeans, an old bottle green Leavers hoodie, and canvas shoes that were now grey instead of white, although the stripe of blue and red on the soles were still visible - and I got off the ship similarly dressed. My face now had a black line of soot on it, and my arms were covered in grease, for the ship was an old one and required a fair amount of handling. All around me, people landed from the ship, some ignoring the gangplank in favour of levitating themselves down, others choosing to jump the rails, but everyone on that ship was similar in appearance, covered in soot and ash and grease and stinking of oil.

I had not thought anything of my second last year at all. Matthias was getting off at the UK dock too, because his father, an international businessman in charge of Muller Apothecaries, was currently trying to make a business deal in Great Britain. This was the first time any of my close friends had been dropped off at the UK dock, and we were both eager to call it a day, arduous and exhausting as the travelling and the operating of the ship was. Being sixth year students, we were the ones in charge entirely in the manning of the ship, so we hardly had a break from steering, pouring oil, heating fires, using magic to make the ship sail smoothly over angry waves. In seventh year, I thought gratefully, the next sixth years would be doing this job, and I, like the rest of the seventh years had, would kick back on deck, pale arms bared, and sunbathe, drinking butterbeer and eating crisps.

I felt something flick past my ear, and spun around, wand leaping into my hand. It was only Reilly, who was grinning as she tucked her wand into her pocket. "Well, it's my last year," she said, inclining her head. "You're not really going to leave without a final goodbye?"

I rolled my eyes, but dropped my trunk on the ground and went over to embrace her. Heidi Reilly had been a guide at Durmstrang for such a long time, I had no doubt the next year was going to feel odd without her and her snide comments, her comic laughter, her astute observations.

"Yes," I growled into her ear. "Happy?"

Her grin widened. "Keep in touch," she said. "And if you ever need help from the Department of Mysteries..."

"Yes, yes, I'll firecall you, and expect you to pick up immediately," I said, stepping back from her.

"Or you can practice the patronus, like I told you to," she pointed out wryly.

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged on the corners of my unwilling lips. "That too."

Garrett, from behind her, winked at me and lifted Heidi into the air, carrying her off in the other direction, completely disregarding her screams to put her down. I laughed at the couples' antics. The two had both gotten a position in the British Ministry of Magic, and I wished them the best.

My other goodbyes had been said in school, so the final one was with Matthias, whom I embraced briefly and clapped him on his shoulder blades. "We'll meet at Fortescue's ice cream parlour," I told him. "Don't be late."

He smiled. "I'm not the one who's always late."

We said this early, even before we had to walk through the extra security in the form of x-ray scanners to check our trunks (which were all muggle-worthy, it was a safety precautionary spell that Durmstrang required all our trunks to have), and muggle police checking our passports and certifying our identities. Six years' experience told us it was going to be mayhem once we passed the police checks, and we both knew it.

Sure enough, when we emerged from the customs, there were all kinds of tour groups milling around, huge cargo trucks, a baggage collection place that all of us, with our small sized trunks and carry-on backpacks, manage to completely avoid. We barely walked two paces when we were surrounded by chortling or clamouring muggles.

I walked straight for the coffee shop in the corner, and pulled out several muggle coins after being sure that my father was among none of its customers. I sat down in front of the coffee shop in plain sight, set down my trunk, pulled off my backpack, and occupied myself with a book that was charmed to look like the Little Women but really was talking about patronuses - being able to conjure one was the project that Harriet Reilly had left me with, and I was determined not to disappoint.

My chai latte had already turned cold by the time my father finally arrived, dressed in a casual white collared shirt and cargo shorts. Despite his upbringing, he was more fond of comfortable and cheap attire than fancy outfits, and amongst all of my friends' parents he always looked like the least well dressed. I had to wave my hand several times and then discreetly shoot a spell at him before he even noticed me, despite being right in front of the coffee shop. As he strode toward me, I raised my brow.

"You're late," I said, for the umpteenth time.

"Well, I had to use the toilet."

"That's what you said two years ago," I answered. Shaking my head at my father's tardiness, I finished the dregs of the latte and stood, before following him out of the muggle hubbub for home.

It never struck me that that would be the last time that I would be in that messy, crowded, chaotic ship dock. I had never much followed British news, and interference at Hogwarts was one of the last things I had been expecting. Looking back, I realised that I did sort of miss the terse goodbyes, the teasing and mocking amongst us Durmstrang students. I missed the tough mental and physical exercise of working on a full battle ship, missed the invaluable lessons of diligence, discipline, and leadership that it had taught me. Because that was the last time I had ever disembarked or embarked from a Durmstrang ship.