by
Catherine King
Ron seemed impressed. Hermione, however, was shocked.
“The Gringotts goblins never told you?!” she asked, horrified. “That is so dishonest!!!!”
“Don’t tell us, Hermione, tell them. You can bring it up when you open your own vault,” said Ron. To Harry he said, “Wow, I would never believe you have, like, 2 different houses. Can you lend one to my family?” Harry laughed. “Tough luck, Ron, but once I find out where they are, maybe I’ll let someone stay in it for holiday.”
Harry left the hosipital wing feeling refreshed and relieved. When Professor McGonagall came around the corner, however, he all of a sudden seemed to have snakes instead of guts. But she told him that Dumbledore wanted to see him, and Harry smiled. Dumbledore was kind, clever, and had a unique sense of humor. Harry went up to the stone gargoyle. “Umm,” he said, “jelly slug?”
No response from the inanimate object.
“Acid pop? Sherbert lemon? Butterbeer? Custard tart?”
At once the stone gargoyle leapt out of the way.
Harry was soon inside Dumbledore’s office. A fine, circular room, with weird little instruments and the paintings of ever-sleeping former Headmasters and Headmistresses. All of a sudden, Fawkes the phoenix appeared on a shelf, next to the Sorting Hat, the sword of Godric Gryffindor, and Dumbledore’s Penisieve.
“Hello, Harry. Have a seat.”
Harry sat down.
“Now, Harry,” said Dumbledore in an understanding tone. “I have been at this school for many wonderful years. The first time I ever saw Hogwarts, I knew that I would someday be a Headmaster. I soon became a teacher, and about 25 years ago, I became the Headmaster of Hogwarts.
Chapter 16: Pomp and Circumstance
When the final exam results came out, Hermione got 264 percent, Harry got 122%, and Ron got 107%. Neville passed Herbology with flying colors, and just managed to scrape off Potions. Parvati and Lavender passed Divination, of course, and every other subject. Dean and Seamus, well, you should’ve seen their faces when Professor McGonagall announced their names on the pass list.
Lavender was almost in tears. “I was the first Gryffindor that the Sorting hat called out, nearly 8 years ago, and here I am, getting ready to graduate!”
The Quidditch team had selected Helen to be the new Captain. Professor Gradison was looking up all the students who would start Hogwarts the next year. (My gosh, this is getting sentimental, isn’t it? At least, it seems that way from here…). Hannah Abbot, Justin Flinch-Fletchley, and Ernie Macmillian, from Hufflepuff, came to say good-bye and good luck. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sent Draco Malfoy a card saying:
“Roses are red,Violets are blue,
Boy, are we glad to get rid of you!
Ha ha! Harry, Ron, and Hermione
P.S. Wishing you the best of luck!
P.P.S. Not really.”
They spotted Malfoy’s face when he read the letter, and Hermione had to drink some milk to hide her laughter. Also, Neville was making plans with Sally-Anne Perks for them to get together. Harry was hoping that it wouldn’t come out that Neville would forgot them all and break her heart. When Ron asked Whitney why she and the rest of Quidditch team all had some black on them, she replied, “We’re wearing black out of mourning for your graduating.”
The night before the graduation, Harry said good-bye to the portrait of the Fat Lady, Nearly Headless Nick, even the painting of Sir Cadogon on the fourth floor, and packed up his dad’s Invisibility Cloak. He took one last, long look at the Gryffindor common room, and went to the kitchen to say farewell to two particular house elves.
* * * * *
The graduation night came. Gryffindor had won the House cup. Lavender was sobbing, and Ron was saying another prayer for good luck. The Quidditch team came over to say “so long,” and the Sippi brothers hummed “Bye’m Bye.” Finally, Dumbledore announced his retirement.
Since Harry, Ron, Hermione, etc., were graduating, they would see Dumbledore and tell him what they wanted to do with their lives. Harry thought of being an Auror (someone who catches Dark wizards), or taking over his father’s job as editor of the Daily Prophet. But by the time he got to Dumbledore, he knew what he wanted to do.
“I think,” he said, “that I’ll write a book. Yes, a book about all my seven years at Hogwarts and all that it’s meant to me and all that’s happened. And it’ll begin, ‘Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…’ .”
The End
