Even though Clinton's letter had not even come up, Minerva had felt endlessly better when she left Sybill and Winky the previous night, after discovering that she had spent far more time with them than she had intended. Deciding to make up for the lost hours, Minerva had gotten up early and found that she was working a lot more efficiently than the day before. Finishing the French book hadn't earned her a new approach, but at least she could move on to new sources of information.

Around noon, however, she was startled out of her focused state by a quiet voice that sounded behind her in her office.

"Professor?"

Turning around, she found that one of the young ghosts had drifted through the door. "Yes, Mr Creevey?" she said, frowning a little at the disturbance.

"I'm sorry if this isn't a good time," Colin Creevey's ghost said hurriedly, a silvery blush on his cheeks, "but there is something I should say before… well…"

Minerva's eyebrows knotted further. Even in death, Colin had always been as enthusiastic as she remembered him from her classes. With that difference that she wasn't blinded by flashes like she had been the first few hours she had been teaching him, before she had finally banished his camera out of the classroom. Now, however, he seemed calm and serious. As if some inner restlessness that had brought him all that energy had disappeared.

"Go ahead, Mr Creevey," she said, gesturing at the chair opposite hers.

The young ghost nodded and glided over to float in a sitting position a little above the chair.

Minerva looked at him expectantly, but for a moment he remained silent.

"Mr Creevey?" she urged him eventually.

"Sorry," he said, looking shy. "I just wanted to ask you, Professor… Do you think they are angry with me? My parents and my brother?"

"Angry?" Minerva repeated, surprised. "Why would they be angry with you?"

Colin shrugged. "If I hadn't sneaked back into the school to fight… Well, I'd still be with them, wouldn't I?"

Minerva sighed. "I don't think they blame you, Mr Creevey," she said earnestly. "I know your brother rather well and I have had the pleasure of talking to your parents a few times. There can be no doubt that they are incredibly proud of you. Of course they are mourning your death and they miss you, but they know that you fought for a good cause. That you were in fact protecting them and all your fellow students. So you shouldn't blame yourself."

Colin nodded slowly. "Thank you," he said quietly. "Professor… I think I am leaving Hogwarts."

Minerva blinked. "Do you mean… Do you think you can move to your family's house?"

The ghost shook his head. "I mean that… I am moving on. There is no need to linger here any longer. I've talked about this with Dennis. And… now with the cold… It's better if there are fewer ghosts, right?"

"Colin," Minerva said, "if you are indeed ready to move on, you are of course free to leave us. But please don't feel like you are not welcome here. We will deal with the temperature. I don't want to see you go out of some misplaced feeling of guilt."

Colin smiled and shook his head. "No. I really am ready. I'm just saying that I'm glad that that will at least help you a little, too. Just… May I ask you to send a letter to my family? To tell them that I am gone? I think it's better if Dennis knows that he won't find me here when he returns…"

"Of course," Minerva nodded solemnly. "If there is anything else…"

Colin shook his head, but then he grinned. "Well, actually… I don't suppose you can ask Neville Longbottom to send my brother a signature? And a picture?"

The corners of Minerva's mouth curled indulgently. "I will take care of it," she promised.

Colin beamed, though at the same time, he seemed to grow a little fainter. "Thank you, Professor. It's been a privilege."

"No, the honour was mine," Minerva said, bowing her head a little. "I don't know what the right words are for the occasion, but… Rest well. You have earned it."

Colin smiled at her. A moment later, his image was gone.