Author's Note: Now that we have come to the end of Lady Diligence, I really do have to thank everyone who has read and supported this story both since its inception and along the way. I have had a rollercoaster ride of a time writing this story and it means so much to me for many personal reasons, but seeing the emails pop into my inbox telling me that it's been favourited or followed or even better, reviewed, basically made so many of my days better. I'm glad many of you seem to like Hermione's metamorphosis into a ghost at Hogwarts and stuck with her sorrow and pain until she could break free of it. This final chapter is more like an epilogue but hopefully, it's a lot more fulfilling than the epilogue of J K Rowling's final Harry Potter book. So, one last time, I ask you to read, relish and review this chapter and invite you to check back soon (maybe stick me on Author Alert?) because another story featuring Harry Potter and his friends is on the horizon...called Wolfblood. Do also read my other stories if they interest you. I do remember the names that pop up most often and continued readership and support is always appreciated!

DaenerysTargary3n

Thirteen years later…

The train platform at King's Cross where the antique crimson train had just whistled in readiness to leave London and begin its journey north to its magical destination. Throngs of anxious parents sweating bullets at the prospect of first-time students heading to school were waiting to usher their offspring onto the train and telling the older, more experienced youngsters not to cause their younger counterparts any mischief.

"Do not go scaring your little sister! It's perfectly fine not to be in Gryffindor."

"Mara," Luna said, "we still love you no matter what house the Sorting House chooses for you, or you choose. Don't listen to the boys. You know they're always up to no good. You, my love, will be exemplary."

"Luna…" Her husband warned, observing the platform around him become emptier and emptier.

"Yes, yes, anyway," she hurried, kissing her three kids, "Mara, Gwydion, Emrys, we'll write once a week. Do say hello to Professor Potter and Lady Diligence from us."

Mara looked uncertain at her brothers who just nodded and herded her away from their mother's embrace and onto the teeming train so they could find their friends. Morwenna Longbottom, or Mara as she was known by all who knew her, was exceedingly confused by her mother's last instruction. Of course, her godfather she knew well enough, but she had no idea who the second person her parents wished her to greet was. She had never heard of anyone called Lady Diligence but her brothers seemed to know this person who appeared to merit the same as her godfather.

As she wandered through the carriages, rocking a bit as the Hogwarts Express pulled away, she searched each compartment for her best friends who would hopefully be in the same house as her after the feast. Eventually, she quite literally stumbled into the correct compartment occupied by four of her closest friends.

"Mara, you okay? Your dad lost his toad on his first trip to Hogwarts, there's no need to follow suit by losing your balance!"

Once the cheeky wit of Fred Weasley had subsided and she had righted herself with his assistance, Mara sat down next to her fellow first years and longtime bosom friends. Sure enough, Fred Weasley had inherited his namesake's glib nature and sense of humour, but Mara held him in check through her knowledge of how unrelenting his older brother, Oliver's teasing over being sorted into Slytherin had been and how Fred had sent her countless owls because of how he feared that eventuality. Her own brothers had teased her but Uncle Harry had once told her she would be able to choose herself if she didn't support the hat's selection.

The eleven-year-old children of the war heroes, Mara Longbottom, Fred Weasley, Serena Bones and Megan MacMillan all rode the train to their new school together. Their topics of conversation ranged from what snacks they were going to get from the cart and what the houses were like and who wanted what to whether Emrys would win the Quidditch Cup for Ravenclaw again or if Gwydion would win it for Gryffindor. All the while these conversations went on between everyone but the youngest Longbottom, Mara was pondering this strange character who warranted such remembrance from her parents.

"Guys," she interjected, stopping Megan from relating the story of her mother, Hannah's difficulties in procuring places for the Ukrainian Ministry of Magic contingent to dine at Spinnet's, the best restaurant in Hogsmeade that was always booked up months in advance, "who's Lady Diligence? I've never heard of her but mum and dad told me to send their best to her."

"That's odd...my mum said the same." Serena said, not allowing herself to dwell on the fact that unlike her other chums, her father had scarpered the minute he found out her mother was a witch.

The other two confirmed that their parents had also expressed a desire to be remembered to a Lady Diligence, but they had thought nothing of it and had just focused on saying hello to their Uncle Harry when they saw him in their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson.

"So who is it?" Mara asked, having inherited her mother's curiosity and unable to let the problem go.

Fred scoffed, "Dunno, but Uncle Harry probably knows. I bet it's some secret that you find out when you go to Hogwarts...like an initiation!"

Although everybody wanted to state that only Fred's dad would have been interested to meet and greet anyone involved in a bizarre school prank, they resisted.

Serena piped up, "How odd is it going to be to have to call Uncle Harry 'Professor Potter'? I don't know how the others don't slip up all the time."

Mara laughed back, "Apparently, Emrys says it's easy not to do because every time he or Gwydion used to slip up, Uncle Harry docked points from their houses. Losing points for forgetting to call your godfather the appropriate name has to be a social no-no. That's how you remember not to call him Uncle Harry."

Uncle Harry as they knew him, who was about to transform into some unknown entity called Professor Potter for the four preteens was a figure of kindness, advice and fun for his godchild and the progeny of his former comrades and schoolmates. All the kids' parents had remarked in the years after the war that Harry had changed and become more solitary than he ever had. Course, they all attributed that to the loss of Hermione Granger, who had a picture in each of their houses in memoriam. That's why Uncle Harry rarely left the castle where he worked and lived, never staying the night and never speaking of his personal life outside of the classroom. Mara herself had decided that the war had stolen her Uncle Harry's family: his parents, his godfather, his father's best friends and the one person he counted on and loved above all others and his youth to boot, so he could never stand to be more than Sirius Black was to him. Black had been his shadow, always lurking in the darkness, always caring but not a constant presence, just an occasional one, but one that was an unrelenting source of strength, love and support.

The kids passed the next hour and a half getting settled into their robes, Fred courteously standing outside the door in the narrow aisle as the girls donned their new black garments and the girls then gave the lad his privacy while he changed. Before they knew it though, the train was decreasing in speed and the faint lights of the Hogsmeade platform were coming into view.

"It's beautiful." Megan whispered.

None of the others could think of a suitable reply or addition, so all they did was nod their unwavering assent. Before long, they noticed the platform in their view was no longer serene and vacant, but filling up with bodies, and they hastened off the train.

"Look, there's someone shouting 'First years' over there. Come on, girls," Fred bellowed, "we don't want to be left behind."

With that they hurried to where he was pointing, to the silhouette of a gigantesque man standing with only an antique lantern to light his way. They were at first terrified to be willingly striding towards the large, threatening figure, but that dissipated quickly.

"Oh, hello you four," Hagrid said as the first-years he knew ran up to the small sea of students surrounding him while the others headed for the carriages, "good journey?"

"Yeah, it was, thanks Hagrid." Serena replied, triggering stares of awe from the majority who had no prior knowledge of the Hogwarts gamekeeper...or his stature.

"Right, good then. Well, you lot," he growled out to the entirety of the group, "follow me. Boats are this way and no more than four to a boat."

As the group approached the jetty with its cluster of small dinghies tethered around it, one of the shorter and younger children asked Hagrid pointedly where the oars were, prompting sudden and sheer silence from the witnesses.

"Should he even be here? Is he a wizard or what?" Fred whispered in Mara's ear.

While Hagrid explained the enchantment placed on the vessels in brief terms to the unfortunate pupil who dared to ask a question, he happened to catch the newest Weasley to grace the halls of Hogwarts' words.

"No harm in a question," Hagrid said, still unable to call George's son by his name, "besides, say that around Lady Diligence and she'll tell you about another Weasley that said something like that. It's not a good tale."

With that, and a smirk from Mara, Fred shut up and got into the boat with the three girls with whom he had shared his journey north. Once they neared the castle, you could hear the very ripples on the surface of the lake above everything else, for the newcomers to the school were stupefied by the castle on the side of a hill, lit up with life and imposing as it bore its shadow down on the lake around them. The towers and turrets that had to be rebuilt after the final battle with Voldemort's forces were starkly different to the parts of the castle exterior that survived the skirmish, but somehow the ancient walls and features contrasted with the novel and unspoiled renovations made the new pupils about to step into the castle that had seen war and peace, loyalty and betrayal poignantly aware and proud that they were to live and learn in an establishment that - but for the sacrifices of many - might not have been open to them.

They were ushered into the Entrance Hall to wait to be led into the Great Hall where they would be sorted into their houses. Hagrid winked as his four young friends hesitantly followed the crowd and waited for a more senior member of staff. He then stalked off to take his place at high table.

"Welcome," a strong, masculine voice echoed around the stoney hall, taking its other occupants by surprise, "to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, first-years. For those of you who do not know, I am Professor Potter, Head of Gryffindor House and Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Harry paused, for as some of the staff members had warned, the students were quite starstruck to have the Boy Who Lived as a teacher, and for some, a Head of House. He waited a moment for the whispers and poorly concealed blushes of several girls, who reminded him too much of Ginny Thomas, to subside before continuing.

"As you will all have noticed on your trip from the train, Hogwarts is different this year. After The Battle of Hogwarts, we have rebuilt several wings of the castle, but apart from that, the system has changed. Although, you will be sorted into your houses, lessons will no longer be divided into houses, with the exception of Quidditch. You will be tested tomorrow and afterwards, you will be divided into streams. The high scorers - Stream A - will be taught separately and Streams B and C will receive separate classes too. This is to give you all a means-based education and not play to the ideals and natures of the four houses. After your first year, your end of year examinations will determine which stream you fall into during your second year and so on until your last year here. Now, for more immediate business, before I take you into the Great Hall, I must instruct you to retrieve your wands and hold them out before you like so."

Harry held his own wand in front of him just like a broom so it was at a ninety-degree angle to his body. Once he was satisfied that all the students before him had done as they were told, he moved his wand to write the spell the young witches and wizards would be casting in the air in golden, wispy script..

"Now, please repeat the following and when your wand glows, do not move. Lucem aeternam diligentiae dominamque huius loci custodire promitto. Your parents and you yourselves have already consented to this spell in your letters confirming attendance, for as stated in the new school rules, you cannot enter past this point without this magical signature. The sentinel spells on the doors to the Great Hall will simply not allow you into the school."

Without further ado, the students who couldn't wait to gain entry into the august Great Hall with its enchanted ceiling and house tables and colours, chanted the words that were emblazoned on the air above their hero's head.

"Thank you. Now, the moment that you've all been waiting for, I'm sure," Harry said with more of an easygoing smile now that his assemblage of students had done the necessary spell without a hitch, "please follow me into the Great Hall."

As Harry paraded into the vast room with a river of nervous and agitated children walking in his wake, the rest of the student body erupted in applause, both for the war hero who survived and led another new year of witches and wizards and the new pupils who were soon to join their ranks. It did scare the first years initially, but it was a new tradition that had developed after Hogwarts opened its doors after Tom Riddle's demise.

That was Harry's duty fulfilled: getting the first-year arrivals cleared for the sentinel spells and up to the stage where the Headmistress and the rest of the professors (except one) sat. Now, he could relax in the knowledge that Hogwarts' secret and undying light were safe and protected for another year. All he had to do until the students filed off with their prefects was look excited when every new Gryffindor was called. The only excitements the evening truly held in store for him were seeing where the new cohort of his friends' children would be sorted and going to the library to see Hermione.

Luckily for him, the sorting did not take too long and no one dragged out on the school song. Once the dessert platters were sent up from the kitchens, Headmistress McGonagall took to the podium once more and introduced all the professors to the new students. She usually invited the ghosts of the four houses to make themselves but ever since a new ghost had taken the place of Professor Binns and there was a new Lady Diligence, Minerva preferred to introduce the ghost who lived in the library before the rest of the Hogwarts spectres.

"Now that you have met the professors seated her beside me," Minerva said without thinking much about the same spiel she rolled out at the onset of each academic year, "it gives me great pleasure and honour to introduce to you first years, and to present to you others again, your History of Magic professor,"

Emrys turned to his little sister sitting beside him at the Ravenclaw table and smiled knowingly but, while Fred was at the Hufflepuff table and the other two girls were talking to Gwydion with the Gryffindors. However, they were all clever and booksmart, so he was consoled by the idea that they'd all most likely have classes together, plus there was the realisation that no matter who was playing, they'd all have no doubt whatsoever which team would garner their support.

Just as Headmistress McGonagall uttered her last word, an array of ghosts swooped down from the ceiling and glided between the trestle tables, some like the Bloody Baron and Grey Lady steering towards their respective houses and others teeming above the action. There was one phantasm who did not swarm about the students and create a stir among them, but instead the grey feminine form swam up to the Headmistress and came to stand beside her as the other ghosts disappeared.

"Lady Diligence." Professor McGonagall concluded, gesturing to the undead woman by her side.

There were many first years who inwardly remarked how similar Lady Diligence looked to Harry Potter's fallen best friend from the image the majority had seen in the papers following her funeral. Only once they did double takes of the ghost did they come to the conclusion (with the older students' assistance) that they were one and the same. Hermione Jean Granger was now a Hogwarts ghost.

Mara gasped, "Hermione Granger...that's who mum and dad were talking about! They knew and didn't tell me that one of their best friends wasn't really gone forever and would be one of my professors!"

"No, Morwenna," Emrys said, shaking his head, "it's part of the spell...you know, the sentinel spells that allow you access to the school. The words in the spell mean 'I promise to safeguard the eternal light and Lady Diligence of this place.' Professor Potter created it, with her help, just after her funeral when she was discovered here in the library. She teaches here and everyone - that is, the parents, students and governors - know who Lady Diligence is, but no one is allowed to reveal her true identity to anyone without the magical signature of Professor Potter's sentinel spell."

"But, why? Lord Voldemort is gone. What's the harm in knowing Hermione Granger is not dead?"

Her brother, who was known through Hogwarts for being particularly aware of the contents of Hermione's favourite volume, groaned at his sister's inability to grasp the situation, "She is dead and the point is that there are many who are not Riddle, but still evil, who could profit from knowing that Lady Diligence, which is how the library ghost is always known. All Professor Potter did is make sure that no one would ever find the way to remove her from Hogwarts or himself because the penalty of doing so is death. The sentinel spell functions very similarly to an Unbreakable Vow. She told me once when she was tutoring me before she replaced Binns that the only way she can leave Hogwarts is if she makes the choice herself or Uncle Harry dies. She would never leave him and no one can force her away to get back at Uncle Harry."

Mara noticed how Emrys became incensed as he narrated the saga of how the woman that - had she lived - would have been her godmother and Aunt Hermione. Now, so many things made sense but the tidbit of new information that made her smile the most was the fact that while she had imagined Uncle Harry feeling so alone and dejected that he couldn't spend time with families and happy people, life had been good to him for once and given him his best friend and lifelong companion back...even if she was a ghost.

"Oh, okay."

Mara's succinct reply did not surprise her sibling, who had noticed how her face became awash with glee. As Lady Diligence flitted away, not failing to send Harry a stunning, radiant smile, she sang out to the crowd, "I'll see you all in the library for study periods."

"Study periods?" Megan asked Gwydion.

Gwydion, who was certainly less studious than his brother, preferring Quidditch and singing to reading, "Oh yeah, Milady is a stickler for those. Twice a week, two of your so-called 'free periods' are study sessions she takes in the library. Basically she helps you with all your homework. They're really dull but they don't half free up some evenings for Quidditch practice. By the way, you don't always have to call her 'Lady Diligence'...all the students just call her Milady."

Once the horde of people had had their fill of puddings ranging from ice cream to raspberry and vanilla bavarois, the students and a few professors went to bed, most teachers who weren't on duty wanted to get some hot cocoa in Professor Slughorn's chambers. Harry, however, had only one location on his mind and one companion for the rest of the evening before term officially commenced the next morning.

"Hi Harry," his angel greeted him softly as he rounded the corner into the deserted library, "interesting evening?"

He smiled as he settled into one of the armchairs and she sat opposite him, "You were there for the most interesting bit, 'Mione."

"I don't suppose - in your eyes - the two were unrelated."

Harry shook his head at his best friend's sharp observation that, as always, nothing was worth noting except her presence when she was with him. His eyes had blinkers on them the minute he laid eyes on her nebulous form and everything else paled (though not quite literally) in her wake.

"Harry, I want to hear what houses the children were sorted into!" Hermione demanded, unceremoniously cutting short his reverie.

"Fine."

Having agreed to satisfy her curiosity, Harry launched into a vivid tale of how exactly they looked when they saw him in the Entrance Hall to what the Sorting Hat said for each one. Only Hermione's pity for Fred when he was sorted into Hufflepuff punctuated the narrative, but she was adequately soothed, much like Fred and the girls, when she realised he would be content enough in the house of the just and loyal.

"So what's your day like tomorrow?" Harry asked his ghost.

"I've got double with the third years then a break and nothing until double with the first years."

Harry smiled mischievously, "So, you're free late morning and early afternoon after lunch?"

"Yes."

"Want to pull that prank on Sir Cadogan like we planned?"

Hermione giggled, "Yeah, sure, but Minerva's going to go spare if she finds out it was us, Harry. We have to make it seem like it was Peeves."

"She already knows about our traditional pranks, sweetheart," Harry confessed, "she told me at the feast that she was looking forward to this term's hijink."

Lady Diligence was truly shocked at the Headmistress' awareness that two of her professors indulged themselves twice a year in shenanigans and misadventures that occasionally over the last ten years led to quite a commotion and bit of trouble for the other faculty members.

"Why has she never told us to stop it?"

Harry smiled and held his hand to a centimetre off his beloved's cheek, "Because, my love, she knows that our biannual jokes are the only way we wouldn't go completely insane and destroy her school in a rage that we lost our youths and our futures to a war."

Hermione would have wept, but she chose to leave the tears to Myrtle, and whispered back, "We haven't lost our futures."

"Maybe not, but the futures we might - should - have had, Hermione, were stolen from us. We will never have families, children, lives away from this castle. We will never have that, so Minerva lets us have what happiness we can find. Besides, we've never done anything dangerous or too off-piste."

Hermione wished more than ever that in that moment she still had a tangible body, for she would have embraced him with warmth and all her love, which had since her passing become cold and remote.

"You can still have children, a wife, a family," she reminded her mortal counterpart, "you can also go home and retire whenever you like. You don't have to spend the rest of your life at Hogwarts, you know."

Harry looked at her, appalled by her suggestion, "I can never leave here. 'Mione. I have no future without you. My future is here, the only family I care about is here and the children I want can be the children we teach here at Hogwarts. After all, who would I be if I left Lady Diligence?"

"Well, you wouldn't be Professor Potter." Hermione replied with a chaste kiss to her professor's lips.