Longest. Chapter. In the History. Of time.
I've tried very hard to stay true to canon with regards to this story, but I couldn't help it. I just had to give the gang their own little graduation! I mean, really. SEVEN YEARS. Seven years of school.. they deserve a little ceremony and feast celebrating their successes, hard-work, the memories, friends, what have you!
So a few things...
- The Gryffindors (as with every other house) are seated alphabetically. Imagine my amusement when I found out James and Sirius wouldn't be sitting together!
- I would like to give credit to "Keaton of the FCHS Class of 2007" for the beginning line of James's speech (modified it a bit.)
- I would just like to clarify, for those of you who happen to find this bit confusing, that an academic/graduation hood is different from an actual hood.
- Instead of the "mortar board" (customary for us muggles,) the graduating class is wearing "wizard caps." For those of you who haven't seen the first Harry Potter movie (though I strongly doubt that there are any of you out there, just in case, lol,) it's just a pointed, black hat.
- I dedicate this chapter to those of you who've yet to graduate from highschool. I wish you the best on that special day (mine, sadly, wasn't particularly eventful.)
- CANNOT believe I've been referring to James and Lily as sixth-years in this story. Will try to fix that right away.
Again, I'd just like to thank the people who've always been kind, and faithful to this story. Whether you've reviewed, or watched LWHD, it just means a lot. IAMaMUDBLOOD, Darkness-Killer, sunlightdust, randommoment — thank you so much for your lovely comments on the last chapter! Cheered me right up!
To randommoment: Hopefully I've addressed the confusion you had on the last chapter (left a little explanation there.) Really sorry about that!!
Again, I own nothing you recognize.
June 1977
Boys Dormitory, Gryffindor Tower
3:17 PM
"OI!"
Stiffening with pain, Sirius drew in several mouthfuls of air for patience, glaring ferociously after some moments over his rigid right shoulder at a crouched, furiously sputtering Peter who was holding what looked like a small, bloodied pin in his trembling right hand,
"You planning on giving me tetanus, Wormtail?" Sirius blasted without pity, his dark eyebrows raised in a look of affronted disbelief, and behind him, Peter let out a distinctly dry, humourless laugh.
"S'not a bad idea," Peter mumbled acidly out of the corner of his small, puckered mouth, at the other corner of which was another dressing pin.
Remus bit down at his bottom lip hard in an incredibly strained effort not to burst out laughing at Peter's difficulty.
Looking rather like a bride on her wedding gown fitting, Sirius stood, perfectly erect, on top of a roughly improvised pedestal composed entirely of his, and James's school books, his long, slightly toned arms held gracefully aloft on either side of him, whilst a huffing Peter, who was now forced to stand resignedly on the tips of his toes at the additional height, fussed over Sirius's hood: a scarlet cloth lined with gold silk, identical to the ones Remus and Peter were presently sporting.
"The instructions," huffed Sirius importantly, lifting, and unrolling a small scrap of parchment before him delicately as though he were about to issue an important proclamation to the Queen, "Said obtain assistance, not, I believe, ten bloody poke holes to the sodding back. I swear I'll be half-dead from blood loss, come my time to walk across the stage-"
"Why don't you have James or Remus do it for you then?" Peter demanded menacingly, sounding quite harassed, blushing a splotchy, uneven red as the pin he had been clutching with his lips fell soundlessly, unnoticed, to the floor, "I'm tired of you lot treating me like I'm, each of you, your personal man-servant!"
"But you're such a charming man servant," Sirius flashed Peter his sweetest smile, eliciting it's intended reaction of causing Peter to momentarily gag with revulsion.
"A word of advice," Remus cut in thoughtfully, looking amused as he propped himself up on elbows from where he lay, sprawled comfortably on the floor, with his head tilted back lazily on a twisted tuft of bed skirt,
"It might help loads, if you," Remus promptly gestured a baggy sleeve at a frowning Sirius, who, from his initially relieved expression, thought that Remus was coming staunchly to his defense,
"Stop being an arse?" Peter supplied merrily,
"-Stop moving your head every other second," finished Remus with a sharp, warning look at Peter, and Sirius turned away from both of them, scowling.
"It's my tossing hair," Sirius whined, sounding weary and pained, glaring hard at the round, three-foot mirror he had set up beside his bed ever since he was eleven, "It's not nearly messy enough,"
"Finished!" declared James suddenly from the doorway, startling Remus, Peter, and Sirius into a bungling jerk as he re-entered the dormitory in a speedy walk, and quite nearly, tripped over Remus's spread-out legs.
"As usual," Remus responded blearily from the floor, looking up at James with a faintly cocked eyebrow, "I've no idea what you're going on about."
Grinning, James eagerly dropped to his knees beside Remus, who, before gazing questioningly back at him, had momentarily flicked his eyes over to where Sirius stood, or rather, had been standing.
Peter had viciously kicked over the "book" pedestal Sirius had spent some five, eager minutes constructing.
"My speech," James answered happily, "Just finished it at the loo,"
Remus could've sworn he'd stopped breathing for a moment at this information.
"You said you'd finished that thing ages ago!" He choked out hysterically, his face pale with shock. James nervously chewed the corner of his lip as though now deeply regretting having spoken a word of his recent achievement.
"And… so I have," James replied quickly, coughing in an attempt to lower his suddenly pitchy voice, "Really, five minutes ago—ages, it is,"
Remus pinched the bit of skin separating his eyebrows, his head bent low as though in solemn prayer.
"Did you," Remus panted, as though he were having considerable difficulty getting air to his lungs, "At least remove the nasty bit about Snape?"
James feigned serious contemplation. "Which bit?"
Remus's eyes widened in horror.
"There's more than one?!"
James fell back laughing.
"Calm yourself, Moony! I'm not the callous, cold-hearted bastard you're constantly making me out to be-"
Remus snorted. James ignored this.
"The git's perfectly capable of embarrassing himself without my help,"
"There!"
James and Remus glanced up from their respective places on the floor, and were slightly amused to learn that Peter had pinned Sirius on all fours with the advantageous employ of his entire weight—beneath which Sirius was groaning with what sounded like unendurable pain—and had successfully pinned Sirius's hood in all the appropriate places.
"Merlin, Peter!" Sirius wheezed, "What d'you do? Eat your entire family?"
"Stuff it," Peter smacked him hard on the head.
"Just remembered: ran into the missus on the way here," James informed them gravely, roughly straightening his glasses, and shoving them higher over his nose, "Reckons we ought to be downstairs in the next bloody minute or two,"
Remus stuck out a pale wrist, his lips tightening into a wince as he briefly surveyed the front of his watch, "Agreed."
Remus gently smoothed out the wrinkles from his robes, "Everyone have their ceremony hat?" He inquired quickly over his shoulder,
"Yes mum," sniffed Sirius, and James punched him playfully on the shoulder.
"Mum!" Sirius moaned, grinning, "Jamesie hit me on the shoulder!"
"Lord, you must have been a difficult child," Remus shook his head gravely, looking rather as though he didn't want to fathom the idea, and Sirius, shutting the door loudly behind him, let out a little bark of laughter.
"You don't know the half of it, mate."
"Finally!" groaned Pragna indignantly from the stuffed armchair she'd grumpily esconced herself in a half an hour ago, abruptly sitting up in her seat to chuck a fat, red pillow at a sleeping Belinda, who cracked open a bemused eye the moment it landed with a faint 'poosh' on the right side of her face.
"What took you four so bloody long to get ready?"
"Hair issues," Sirius grunted, holding James stiffly by the shoulders whilst he critically examined his wincing reflection on James's round spectacles.
Belinda immediately raised herself, it appeared, at the sound of Sirius's voice, picking anxiously at several places in her hair, and quickly straightening the wizard's cap that had, until that very moment, sat slightly askew on top her head.
Lily and Pragna quietly shared knowing looks at this, trapping uncontrolled bursts of giggles in their hands when Belinda had leaned down momentarily to adjust the loose straps on her sandals.
James, for all he could see with Sirius bobbing up and down constantly within his line of vision, had not missed the subtle difference in Lily's appearance. Her cheeks we're slightly pinker with a touch of rouge, and a section of her hair had been pulled back, swept artfully on either side of her head with gleaming, black lacquer clips, while the rest fell, curly at the tips, over her chest, and shoulders.
"I can't believe it!" Belinda burst out suddenly, rising, rather dry-lipped and white-faced, from her little sandal mission, "We're actually going to graduate in just a few minutes!" She looked as though she had only just been aware of this fact, and Sirius, who finally appeared to be content with the thoroughly disheveled state of his dark hair, let go of a very disgruntled James, and turned to her, favouring her bewildered remark with his usual bark-like laughter,
"You can't believe it? I'm surprised James, and I here weren't sent an invitation to attend next year, what with the detentions, and History of Magic 'Trolls' we've got between us-"
"What?" exclaimed Lily in a tone of both exasperation and mild amusement, "And have you two stay another year? I think Professor McGonagall would rather swallow coal,"
"Speaking of the lovely woman," Remus broke in crisply, stealing another quick, anxious look from the cracked face of his old wrist watch, "Unless we want her to swoop down on us like harpy, we had better form ourselves a line, and get down to the Great Hall,"
Lily nodded.
"Right, everyone remember their places? Sirius you're at the—Sirius!" Lily cried, rather indignant to find Sirius, astonishingly on his hands and knees, crawling furtively towards the back of the half-formed line where James brought up the rear with his surname of 'Potter.'
"Alas, then," Sirius gave a dramatic sniff, extending a mournful hand to James as Lily wrenched him hard around the neck of the robes, and yanked him bodily to the front of the line, "Fare thee well, Prongs… love you mate, don't forget to write-"
Peter's small, beady eyes were unusually watery with what appeared to be enormous relish at the prospect of having James to himself for the entire length of the ceremony.
Remus, too, looked exceedingly delighted.
"It's only a godsend that you two are going to be separated for the next three hours," he declared volubly with an obvious relief, and Sirius shot him a rather filthy look from over Belinda, and Lily's right shoulders.
"Alright, Black," Lily prompted bracingly, mashing her lips together hard for a full five seconds as though to give them more color, "Lead the way."
Looking a little brightened at the small bit of authority his surname had granted him, Sirius jutted his chin out considerably, and cheerfully headed the group on their way out the portrait whole with extremely high, square shoulders, and a flamboyant walk that bordered dangerously on a strut.
Astounded yet delighted, the Gryffindors were met with many excited yelps of 'Hi!' and friendly, forthcoming cries of 'Hullo!'—the most popular recipients being both Lily and James—from the year's graduating Hufflepuffs, and some slightly apologetic-looking Ravenclaws as they departed speedily from their sixth magical staircase down, and briskly made their way to the wide, fire-lit entrance hall that led directly into the Great Hall.
The Slytherins, James could see, frowning slightly, we're already assembled at their table, seated in quiet pairs and threes across from one another, looking with strained attention at a wildly gesticulating Professor Slughorn who was dressed quite exuberantly in deep, velvet robes of a striking, regal green, his abnormally large, very rotund stomach just barely contained in a fancy, elegantly-cut waistcoat that appeared to be made from a dragonskin that was only a shade lighter than the color of his robes.
"You can continue your conversation with Miss Mitchell later, Black."
James immediately spun his head around at the pleasantly familiar voice, and spotted a slightly put-out Sirius smiling apologetically to a very different-looking Professor McGonagall.
Professor McGonagall had traded in her trademark emerald robes, and had ceremoniously opted for a deep, majestic scarlet, her long, dark hair smoothed back into a deceptively plain bun.
"Thank you, Black. I need scarce remind any of you that as seventh-years your behavior over the course of this evening's events will undoubtedly reflect upon the school," She intoned severely, a hint of a warm smile betraying her tightly pressed lips as she regarded them each silently for a moment with what appeared to be a tearful, reminscent gleam present in both her normally stern, ordinarily forbidding eyes.
"S'alright, Professor," James said suddenly, a sympathetic smile stretching his lips, "Those detentions we spent together... Merlin knows, no one can take them away from me. I'll keep them safe—right here."
James gently patted a reverent hand over where his heart beat, and Sirius let out an obscene snort he attempted to pass off as a wild cough.
"Head cold," He muttered behind the fingers he'd strategically placed on his mouth, and Professor McGonagall arched a faintly amused eyebrow.
"How very touching, Potter. Black, I sincerely hope you are well-aware of the significance of your position-"
Sirius's gloating expression said otherwise.
"There will be four rows in the front of the platform to accommodate each house," explained Professor McGonagall tartly,
"Gryffindor will occupy the first row, so Black you'll be responsible for herding the rest of the school, Hufflepuff will follow after Potter, then Ravenclaw, then Slytherin. Do not-"
Professor McGonagall nostrils flared exceptionally as though in warning, "Sit down until the last of the Slytherins has arrived—the absence of footsteps should tell you!" Professor McGonagall added impatiently as though she'd read Sirius's mind and couldn't fathom why he'd even think to ask such a silly question, and Sirius shut his half-open mouth immediately, smirking.
"Now, if any of you have any questions regarding tonight's ceremony, concerning the procession, your walk across the stage-"
From the out of the corner of his eye, James could spot Peter shaking the hand of an invisible Dumbledore, leaning in proudly to accept what apparently was a very large diploma. The self-congratulatory smile fell instantly from Peter's face as he caught James, watching him gleefully and raising very enthusiastic thumbs-up's in his direction.
When there appeared to be no pressing questions, Professor McGonagall asked them to join the rest of the houses back at the entrance hall.
"God, I hope I don't trip on the stage!" Pragna was voicing this particular concern to Lily in highly distressed tones as they all trooped back anxiously towards the noisy din of the nearly-filled entrance hall.
James quickly dug a sweaty hand in his right trouser pocket, making sure the speech he'd spent a morning, and an afternoon writing was still there.
"Everything in order?" Remus inquired, a little too innocently, once James had withdrawn his hand from his pocket with a feeling of delighted relief that must have shown on his face,
"Course," James grinned widely, and then they all heard, too soon, James thought, Dumbledore's voice sound cheerfully from outside the towering walls of the castle.
"Good evening, proud parents, family, welcome guests-"
James could scarcely make out the rest of Dumbledore's warm introduction as an extremely contagious outbreak of eager squealing, and gasping took place all around him.
Students who'd momentarily strayed away from their proper places in line to visit friends, immediately resumed their positions with a panicked start, looks of nervousness, and excitement easily discernible on each of their pale, slightly clammy-looking faces.
James, for his part, was a bit stunned to receive a sharp jab to the stomach from Peter's elbow, and looked up to see Lily smiling broadly at him from over Remus's turned shoulder.
James happily returned her smile, not hearing Dumbledore at all when he'd said, "Now I would like to ask you all to please join me in the welcoming of this term's graduating year of the Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
With a gentle nudge from Belinda ("Sirius…now?" "Right!"), Sirius hastily descended the large stone steps leading in and away from the massive front doors, everyone behind him instantly following suit, raising and shuffling their graduation robes about them every once in a while for fear of accidentally tripping on a random fold.
What awaited the students near the edge of the school lake was nothing short of spectacular.
As a slightly chilly wind played with James's hair, James easily spied Dumbledore, the house heads, and two surly-looking Ministry officials sitting in a tidy row of white chairs on top of a large, raised platform carpeted in black.
The platform was in the shape of a semi-circle, and was amply skirted in a sumptuous fabric that was alternately striped in each of the four house colors; scarlet, yellow, cobalt, and green. A great, heavy-looking curtain that had been cut from the same fabric, hung, suspended from a giant wooden archway that loomed above the platform.
"JAMESIE!"
Woefully embarrassed at being thus addressed, James whipped his head about angrily in the direction of the voice, instantly sighting a slightly plump, dark-haired woman who was brandishing a camera wildly at him from the front of the first column of seats facing the great platform.
"Mum," James growled murderously out of the corner of his mouth.
At front of the line, Sirius was struggling with the obvious urge not to burst out laughing.
The middle column was easily the smallest out of the three, and turning sharply, Sirius proceeded down the first row with exaggerated care, making such a show of almost sitting down the last seat that Professor McGonagall very nearly shouted at him from where she sat rigidly, tight-lipped, her hands curling into fists, next to a fairly bright-eyed Dumbledore.
As the sound of a hundred footsteps gradually faded into still silence, Sirius waited about a minute or two before grinning hugely at Professor McGonagall, and finally taking his seat.
James, along with the other slightly cold seventh-years, took Sirius's cue and sat down as well.
Eyeing them all very warmly, Dumbledore rose steadily from his seat, a wide, celebratory smile on his wizened face as he approached a small, wooden stand located at the middle of the platform, upon which a large megaphone had been attached.
"Thank you. I stand here, in front of you all, a very proud, and very moved man. It is neither wearing nor unexciting, even for a man of my considerable age, to serve witness every year in the acknowledgment of certain witches and wizards whom I've had the great pleasure of watching grow from frightfully timid, unsure little children..."
Dumbledore's kind, appreciative gaze swept through the seated seventh-years,
"To wonderfully confident, brilliantly gifted men and women.
There is not a single student present here which I cannot boast of being incredibly passionate, and immensely bright. And so…"
Dumbledore had raised a fluid hand to his left, where suddenly, a large, oak desk, with several black-ribboned scrolls arranged artfully into a tall pyramid appeared,
"Let us honor their growth."
Professor McGonagall got up to her feet, situating herself primly beside the desk, and levitating the top scroll from the pyramid skillfully into her left hand.
"From the House of Gryffindor, a house which celebrates outstanding bravery, and unyielding nerve—Black, Sirius!"
Sirius climbed to his feet to thunderous applause, James clapping the hardest, joining both Remus and Peter as they yelled, "YEEAAAAH, SIRIIIUUUUS!"
Sirius went up a tiny set of steps positioned at the right side of the platform, and crossed the stage with an eagerly outstretched hand towards Professor Dumbledore, who pumped it amiably with a wide, affectionate smile that was visible beneath his long, silvery-white bread.
Professor McGonagall tearfully handed Sirius his certificate scroll who took it with a little, jaunty dance that immediately earned loud, appreciative giggles from the crowd.
Then, to the shock and hilarity of nearly all present (several parents looked quite outraged; Professor McGonagall had to clutch at the end of the large desk Dumbledore had summoned on the platform for support,) every girl from Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw, along with Pragna, and a flushed Belinda, threw bright, silk, and lace-trimmed knickers at Sirius from where they sat, five-feet from the platform, cackling madly in their seats.
Professor McGonagall's watery eyes had bulged alarmingly to the size of golf-balls before each of the the lurid knickers exploded three-quarters of the way towards Sirius into tiny, fluttering showers of glitter, and violently rainbow-colored confetti.
James, Remus, and Peter roared approvingly with laughter.
"A telltale display I think," Dumbledore spoke tenderly into the megaphone, and it was clear that he too was amused, "Of that immense brightness I spoke of earlier,"
The crowd broke into hearty chuckles, and Sirius returned, grinning, to his seat with considerable bits of sparkling confetti stuck to his hair.
"Carmichael, Belinda!"
Belinda pushed herself off immediately from her seat, completely unaware of the odd look Sirius shot her as she ascended the platform steps gracefully to generous applause, and met Dumbledore with a small, blushing smile.
"Evans, Lily!"
The applause Lily received was even more tremendous than Sirius's, though James, who was cracking his knuckles furiously inside his sleeves, thought that the Slytherins' clapping looked a bit forced.
When Lily had arrived to another group of small steps on the left side of the platform, she was rather taken aback to find James standing there, having left his seat with very little detection, beaming widely up at her with an enormous, complicated-looking bouquet, positively to the brim with numerous, large, water-speckled Calla, and Tiger lilies.
"Aww!" the crowd chorused shrilly with glee, sinking into their seats with long, dreamy sighs, and Lily blushed a deep scarlet, drawing James into a tiny, grateful kiss as he lead her gently back to her seat.
"Lupin, Remus!"
Sirius pumped his fist savagely into the air, howling. James had leaned forward in his seat to wolf-whistle. Remus's cheeks we're slightly tinged pink as he regarded Dumbledore speechlessly with what looked like deep reverence.
"Patil, Pragna!"
Pragna was mounting the platform steps at snail's pace, her tall shoes appearing as though they were mired deeply in a tub molasses the way she was lifting them with agonizing delicacy, her back rigid with caution.
"Pettigrew, Peter!"
Roughly side-stepping Sirius's outstretched foot, Peter clambered up the steps nervously, his stubby fingers knotted together against his plump, slightly jiggling belly as James, Sirius, and Remus cried, "Whoooooo!" wildly for encouragement.
"Potter, James!"
The crowd seemed to explode with enthusiastic applause; countless admiring screams pierced the air. James beamed down upon them all as he climbed the steps up to the stage, shaking Dumbledore's hand zealously with a wide, lopsided grin, and pulling a stunned Professor McGonagall into a small, one-armed hug.
Sirius, and Remus had placed their hands around their mouths, and we're shouting, "MARRY ME, JAMES!" at the top of their lungs. Lily was putting her hands together almost maniacally, happy tears glittering in her large, green eyes as she stared up at him with a proud, watery smile present on her lips.
The ceremony progressed with Dumbledore shifting his attention to the Hufflepuffs who occupied the slightly longer row directly behind the Gryffindors.
The Ravenclaws followed immediately after almost a dozen, slightly weepy Hufflepuffs had crossed the stage, each having clutched Dumbledore's hand tightly with great, wide-eyed looks of sadness and gratitude on their faces, and all of them having accepted their certificates from the Head of the Hufflepuff house in a dramatic flurry of hysterical embraces, and open sobbing.
Douglas, who was the first of the Ravenclaws to be summoned to the stage, paled a little beneath his pompous expression as he caught sight of James's hands clenching dangerously into bloodless fists on his lap.
Sirius appeared to have experienced a rather similar reaction when Roberta Bowles, looking as heartbreakingly beautiful as ever with her dark, waist-length hair charmed prettily into loose, weightless ringlets, approached Dumbledore with a big, syrupy smile, and forget-me-not blue eyes wide, and twinkling with stunned pleasure.
When the last of the Ravenclaws had descended from the platform, Dumbledore addressed the Slytherins, who, James couldn't help noticing with undisguised scorn, looked rather as though they wished they were somewhere else as they each climbed up the steps almost lazily, promptly dropping Dumbledore's hand once they'd shook it as though they couldn't bear to grasp it any longer than was necessary.
Remus had glowered at Sirius reproachfully when Snape had narrowed his eyes at Sirius's silently moving lips which had said, 'Snivellus,' as though with the clear, joyful promise of injury.
After Snape had taken his certificate scroll with a wry, contemptuous grimace, Slughorn quietly returned to his seat next to Professor Flitwick, and Dumbledore gestured to both Lily and James, who took eachother shakily by the hand, and took to the platform again.
"And now before our feast, a few parting words, from your Head girl, and Head boy."
James squeezed Lily's trembling fingers for support, and Lily grinned at him weakly.
"You'll do great," he whispered as the crowd erupted into another riotous bout of deafening applause.
Dumbledore stepped aside to make way for Lily, and returned James's tiny smile as he wheeled about to join a very red-nosed Professor McGonagall.
Lily hastily unfolded a very wrinkled piece of paper, and set it down on the stand. She let out a low breath, her eyes closed for a moment, then she lifted them open again, smiling widely at the audience.
"This speech took me nearly all of a year to write," Lily confessed breathlessly to the megaphone, turning a bright pink in embarrassment, and the crowd responded warmly with soft laughter,
"It would have probably taken me much longer, and I might've been up in the dormitories at this very moment, having locked myself in, cringing and twitching with the absolute horridness of what I'd written had it not been for a very wise, and very kind person telling me that I didn't have to be good at everything, I just had to be myself."
Lily had half-turned her head to gaze fondly at James, her wide-open, startlingly green eyes swimming with gratitude, and James, feeling the eyes of hundreds of people on him, couldn't help growing a little warm in the face as he returned her smile cheerfully with a small, sheepish shrug.
"I didn't understand at the time, what he meant, and I couldn't understand for a while..." Lily broke off, shaking her head a little in confusion before ploughing on,
"I guess… I've always, sort of… felt this certain pressure to do well… for reasons I'm sure some of you can understand," Lily appeared almost apologetic. James knew at once that she was referring to the great, and painful insecurity she'd once had about being muggle-born.
Several people in the audience looked up at her with a twinge of understanding, and their smiles seemed to grow broader as she spoke again.
"So I read. I read until I thought my eyes would fall out. I filled my head with things I thought were important. I never failed to planned ahead, and I turned into a right little perfectionist-"
Some of the seventh-years, James included, nodded eagerly in unison, and Lily burst out laughing into the megaphone, producing one of the most beautiful sounds James had had the great fortune of hearing several times in his life,
"Well, I didn't like it much, to be perfectly honest... this swotting business, but I'd distinguished myself. With numerous Outstandings, OWLS, NEWTS… Became a prefect, and topped it all off with this," Lily's still-embarrassed gaze traveled momentarily in the direction of her Head Girl badge, which gleamed a pale, muted silver in the twilight.
"So when it came time to write a speech," Lily restored her painfully timid gaze at the crowd, "I approached it like I did every assignment. But I learned very early that it wasn't anything like writing an essay, where you could just pull answers out of a book. This speech.. it asked a lot from me.
I couldn't look anything up, there was absolutely nothing to research. It had to be .. well, I suppose it was just like James said, I had to be myself," Lily gripped the edges of the stand tighter,
"So I tried to remember little things from my stay here, something sad, something funny. Something meaningful. But I couldn't remember much, and when I'd ask everyone else, they all had all sorts of stories to tell, and I'd be wondering, where could I have possibly been then? What was I doing? ... It seemed almost miraculous that I should miss these things, that I should remember absolutely nothing about them, and then I realized, with a sort numbing sensation, that I had been reading, writing an essay, was in the library doing research, had been out in the corridors, in the middle of another late patrol.
I had spent the better part of my seven years working for a future, trying hard to make everything look easy, trying to prove myself, that ... well, I sort missed out.. on a lot.
And that will always be one of my deepest regrets.
There are just some things that you only get to do once, and if you don't.. I suppose, stop and smell the roses, it'll be like you'd never even done it at all. And I'm so fortunate, and so grateful that I have people in my life who've told me countless times to put the books down, to stop for a bloody moment, to just live. If there's anything worth telling, if there's anything I can tell you lot that's remotely important it's that when you all leave here tomorrow, I want you to live.
Merlin forbid any of you drop dead and die,"—the crowd laughed appreciatively—"But I'm sure you all know what I mean. Thank you all so much, and the best of luck to each and everyone one of you."
The audience burst loudly into raucous applause; Pragna and Belinda's eyes were sparkling brightly with tears. James had gathered Lily tightly in his arms for a quick, congratulatory embrace, then, letting go reluctantly, abruptly switched places with her so that he now stood behind the stand, grinning broadly at the audience who'd begun to stop clapping almost at once at the sight of him.
"A small request before I begin," James said calmly into the megaphone, once the patter of applause had died down considerably, "I'd appreciate it loads if you lot would clap and laugh incessantly after everything I say,"
The crowd's response to this request was almost immediate: many of them had brought their hands round together enthusiastically, and started laughing with some surprise at James's silly introduction.
"A charming audience, I love you all," James fell gracefully into a mock bow, and again, the crowd happily obliged James with boisterous cheers, and chuckles.
"When Professor McGonagall, a lovely, exceptionally sweet-tempered woman (the audience, including a surprisingly smiling Professor McGonagall, did not fail to note James's sweetened sarcasm) informed me plainly, not two weeks ago, that it was, indeed, part of my duty as Headboy to give a five-minute farewell address to the graduating year, doubtless one that would wax on painfully about soppy, nancy stuff: how I'd miss you all so much I'd no doubt cry every night from now on in my sleep at the sting of your absences—I will,"
The seventh-years nodded in mock approval,
"—How I've learned so much in my seven years here at Hogwarts I'm sure to be the next running candidate for Minister for Magic—two years at the latest—how you should all then, after my shining example, follow your heart, strive for your dreams, reach for the stars, pick yourself up after every fall, all that inspirational stuff you normally get from your dear, ol' mum.
And when Professor McGongall assured me, that there was, in fact, no possible way of evading, or shirking off this unsavoury task without a punishing curse to the gut, I thought her barking mad for a moment, because not until a few weeks ago I'd never even, ever once, thought about these things.
I'd been excited to attend Hogwarts, as were you all, but about a year in, I, honestly, couldn't wait to get out. Eleven, Quidditch star, top of every—well perhaps not every class—I thought I knew everything. I thought I was good and ready for the world. Well, the one thing I wasn't ready for was... the one thing I was ready for was this. Today. Odd thing, really, waiting for something for so long, only to feel later that you'd rather it never come at all.
Because today isn't just the day when we lot get to clap ourselves in the ruddy back and yell out 'Congrats, mate!' to every bloody soul we just happen to be sitting near. True, we've gained a lot, knowledge, experience, and what have you, and today's the day we honour that, with the people we love, and with the people who've patiently armed us with the things we ought to know for the real world. But while today is a day of gain, I suppose you can say too, that today is a day of loss."
The silence in the crowd was tangible. The audience was staring up at James raptly, clearly stunned that his speech had taken a surprisingly serious turn.
"I've honestly—never been in the company of so many outrageously attractive people in all my life,"
The crowd instantly shook in their seats with stunned laughter. Many of the seventh-years we're now shouting, "Yeah!"; scores of seventh-year girls we're flipping their hair over their shoulders coquettishly, and batting their eyelashes at him by way of appreciation.
"Really. It's small wonder why I almost failed my Transfigurations practical—lower that skirt, Lily," Her face reddening furiously, Lily punched James half-angrily, and half-amusedly on the arm,
"In the many years we've come to know eachother, and occasionally, driven eachother mad, we've come to be something of a bloated family. And a highly dysfunctional one at that. It's disturbing, really. I mean we wake up to one another every single day—you should see Sirius without make-up, not for the faint of heart, or stomach, I assure you—"
Sirius cried a shrill, mock-indignant "Oi!" over the sudden snorting of several, highly amused Hufflepuff girls,
"We eat at the same bloody table, at the same time, and know odd, alarming things about one another that we really would rather not have known if we could've helped it at the time.
We've borrowed, broken, and more often than not, lost one another's things, called eachother foul names because we were terrifically angry, and at the end of a particularly wretched day, we vent to one another even though we're quite sure that sometimes we tune one another out.
But I suppose that's the fantastic, really annoying thing about family. They never really go away.
They'll be there five, ten years from now, asking you whether or not you've finally settled down with a proper girl, embarassing you endlessly at dinner parties, society functions, little get-together's... shamelessly laughing at your countless, stupid mistakes, and, doubtless, crying with you through the more serious ones. So..."
James mimed raising a special, celebratory toast to the seventh-years, most of whom, with the exception of a few defiant-looking Slytherins, delightedly raised invisible glasses to him in turn, their wide, upturned eyes glistening with the strong possibility of tears.
"To my forty-odd siblings, close, estranged, adopted (James tipped his head jokingly in Sirius's direction, and the audience rang with bubbly laughter,) enjoy today.
It's been a riot. Cheers."
The Gryffindors practically leapt from their seats to reward James with a zealous standing ovation. Half the Hufflepuffs were trying very hard to discreetly mop up their pink eyes, and dripping noses on their sleeves. The Ravenclaws had joined the Gryffindors heartily in the pattering of applause.
Waves and waves of clapping, teary-eyed guests rose wistfully from their seats as forty-five wizard caps soared in the air.
James twisted his head around to beam hugely at Lily whose pink, slightly freckled cheeks were streaked brightly with hot tears. She let out a watery giggle as James gently draped an arm over her quaking shoulders, and planted a small kiss on her warm forehead,
"We'll turn out alright, yeah?" Lily whispered timidly into James's ear as the seventh-years below them we're tangled in quiet, mournful embraces, and rowdy, celebratory bear hugs.
James regarded her silently for a moment, occupying himself with a stray lock of her brilliant red hair. He twirled the silken strands around and around his curled right forefinger, and then, with that charmingly crooked, attractively lopsided smile that Lily loved, released them.
"Course, we will," James said in a thoughtful voice, "As long as you keep calling me an arse whenever I'm being one, I expect I'll be fine at least,"
"You know that's a full-time job right?" Lily informed him wryly,
"Lifetime's what I had in mind, actually," James grinned.
Lily positively beamed.