“Ha—”
A long yawn slipped from Nora’s lips, carrying the languor of an afternoon warmed by sunlight.
She raised a hand and rubbed the corner of her eye.
Her long ice-blue hair slid over her shoulders with the movement, a few mischievous strands falling beside her cheeks before she casually tucked them behind her ear.
The candlelight in the Great Hall floated overhead, casting everyone’s faces in shifting patches of brightness and shadow.
The long tables were covered with an abundant feast.
The rich aroma of roast chicken, the sweet scent of pumpkin juice, and the caramelized fragrance of treacle tart blended together, forming that uniquely comforting smell that belonged to Hogwarts.
But to Nora, all those scents only made her feel even more drowsy at the moment.
“Still yawning?” Her elbow was lightly bumped, and Evelyn’s amused voice came from beside her.
“Nora, what happened with that job interview you mentioned last time?
Which shop in Diagon Alley is it?
I want to come find you during the holidays.”
Nora turned her head and looked at her friend.
Evelyn was wearing a bright yellow dress today, making her chestnut curls look even livelier.
There was also a faint, excited flush on her face.
After all, this was their final dinner at Hogwarts.
“It’s all right, I guess.” Nora picked up her silver fork, speared a piece of roasted potato, and said lazily, “It’s pretty relaxed.
Occasionally, there are some… little surprises.
More interesting than I expected.”
She did not go into detail about Merlin’s Antique Shop.
It was not that she did not trust Evelyn.
It was simply that the place was too strange, involving “special transactions” and a shopkeeper who could disappear.
Telling her would only make her friend worry.
Some secrets were better shouldered alone.
“Little surprises?” Evelyn raised an eyebrow and pressed curiously, “What kind of surprises?
Does the boss perform magic tricks?
Or is there a talking elf in the shop?”
“Neither.” Nora smiled and brushed it off vaguely.
“You’ll know when you visit.”
Her gaze shifted toward Dumbledore on the platform.
The old headmaster was holding a piece of parchment, slowly reading his graduation speech.
His voice was gentle yet full of strength, like a hearth fire in winter, always giving people an inexplicable sense of peace.
But today, not even Dumbledore’s voice could dispel Nora’s sleepiness.
It was probably because she had stayed up too late last night organizing the antique shop’s accounts.
“…Therefore, I hope all of you graduates will remember this: courage is not the absence of fear, but the choice to keep moving forward in the face of it; wisdom is not knowing everything, but admitting one’s own ignorance…”
Dumbledore’s voice echoed through the Great Hall.
Most of the graduates below were listening earnestly, their eyes filled with longing and reluctance.
Nora, however, muttered inwardly: This speech has been going on for almost half an hour.
When is the old headmaster finally going to finish?
“Do you think Professor Dumbledore’s graduation speeches are this long every year?”
She leaned close to Evelyn’s ear and whispered, “I remember him saying something similar back in our first year.”
“That’s called earnest guidance, all right?” Evelyn shot her a reproachful look.
“In just a little while, we’ll have to say goodbye to Hogwarts.
Can’t you take it a bit more seriously?”
Nora shrugged and did not argue.
Was she reluctant to leave?
Of course she was.
She had spent seven years here, growing from a young witch who could barely hold her wand steady into a graduate capable of standing on her own.
The fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, the star charts in Ravenclaw Tower, the moonlight at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and even Professor Snape’s occasionally furrowed brows when he smiled…
Everything from those years felt like marks carved into her bones—clear and profound.
Seven years had slipped away like sand between her fingers before she even realized it.
“But seriously,” Nora said, looking at the familiar professors seated on the platform.
Professor McGonagall still wore her stern expression.
Professor Flitwick was secretly wiping away tears, while Professor Snape had his head lowered, staring into his goblet, no one knew what he was thinking.
Nora said softly, “After this, we probably won’t have many chances to hear the old headmaster talk this much again.
Let’s just treat it as… the last time we listen properly.”
Evelyn said nothing.
She only nodded lightly, her eyes a little red.
At last, Dumbledore put down the parchment, picked up the silver spoon beside him, and gently tapped the crystal bowl in front of him.
Ding—ding—
The crisp sound interrupted everyone’s thoughts.
“All right, all right.” The old headmaster revealed his signature kindly smile, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.
“It seems my rambling has made everyone impatient to enjoy dinner.
Then let us raise our glasses to the graduates who are about to embark on a new journey.
Cheers!”
“Cheers!”
Warm cheers rang through the Great Hall.
Everyone raised their goblets, and the sound of crystal cups clinking together was clear and pleasant.
Dumbledore sat down with a smile, picked up his knife and fork, and began enjoying dinner.
The students below were finally released as well.
They began eating heartily, and the sounds of conversation and laughter rose one after another, diluting much of the sadness of parting.
“You know, this year’s graduate representative is actually pretty surprising.”
Evelyn nudged Nora with her elbow and jerked her chin toward the Slytherin table.
Nora followed her gaze and saw a tall blond boy standing in front of the Slytherin table, holding a sheet of paper and speaking with a serious expression.
It was Felix Rosier, the Slytherin prefect and this year’s Head Boy.
“Felix Rosier, huh.” Nora chewed the roast chicken in her mouth and said casually, “Hasn’t he always wanted to be the representative?
He only became Head Boy in seventh year, so he has to find some way to make his presence known.”
Felix Rosier, heir to the pure-blood Rosier family, was a typical Slytherin—arrogant, obsessed with blood status, and ambitious.
Nora had little to do with him.
She only remembered one time in the corridor when he mocked a Hufflepuff half-blood wizard for having “dirty blood.” Nora had knocked him flat with an Impediment Jinx.
Since then, whenever he saw Nora, he would take a detour.
“Do you think he gets tired, talking that much?” Evelyn curled her lips.
“If I had to stand up there and talk for that long, my tongue would definitely tie itself in knots.”
“That’s why I don’t want to be any kind of representative.” Nora swallowed her food and picked up her pumpkin juice for a sip.
“Standing in front of so many people and rambling for half a day sounds boring.
I’d rather eat two more pieces of tart.”
She lowered her head and continued clearing the food on her plate.
Roast chicken, Yorkshire pudding, mashed peas…
The house-elves in the Hogwarts kitchen had clearly brought out their best skills.
Every dish was so delicious it made one want to swallow their tongue.
“Oh, right.” Nora suddenly remembered something and looked up at Evelyn.
“You still remember what I told you last time, don’t you?”
“What thing?” Evelyn was busy battling a piece of treacle tart and asked indistinctly.
“About going to Australia.” Nora’s tone grew more serious.
“Remember to leave early.
Don’t drag it out until the very end.”
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