"At night they come without being fetched. By day, they are lost without being stolen."

"Oh, bollocks," Daphne cursed, spearing a dirty look at the eagle head door-knocker. "You couldn't give us an easy one for our last time being here, could you?"

"Oh, don't say that it's the last time!" Lisa bemoaned. "It's too sad!"

"But it is the last time…"

"Yes, I know, but you don't have to say it…"

"Are you crying?"

"I c-can't help it! I a-always get so emotional at endings!"

"Look at what you've gone and done now, Daphne, you've made Lisa cry," Padma said.

"I didn't!" Daphne cried at the same time that Lisa insisted, "She didn't!"

"The answer is 'stars'," Oliver told the door-knocker after a moment's thought.

All of the eighth year Ravenclaws stood on the landing outside their tower, waiting as the guardian admitted them passage. Each clutched a book, or else had one tucked under their arm.

"Ready?" Padma prompted. She seemed to have become their unspoken leader after telling the seventh years to wait below until their group was done.

"Oh, I hope I've chosen the right book," Sue fretted. Ernie shifted uncomfortably, like he empathized with her plight, but did not want to say it aloud.

Mercifully, NEWTs had come and gone; the Leaving Feast had been eaten and enjoyed the previous night. All those from eighth year, and those from seventh who had not opted to stay on another year, were preparing for their leaving ceremony in only an hour. Their trunks were packed and stacked in the Entrance Hall. There was only this small tradition left to complete before they would turn their backs on Ravenclaw Tower for the final time.

Padma led the way toward the Stacks, accompanied first by Sue and Oliver. The three veteran Ravenclaws had spent their entire Hogwarts career planning which book they might one day leave behind in the Stacks, and so had been ready with their picks for some months now. Lisa had confidently chosen her favorite Jane Austen novel, ignored Sue's protests that there were probably at least seventeen copies of Sense and Sensibility in there already, and thought nothing more of her choice. Ernie had deliberated which book to leave behind with anyone who would listen, for weeks now, and it seemed had finally made a decision. Daphne had gone back and forth between a few different texts, but had eventually opted to settle on a Charms text she had found helpful over her years at school.

Hermione did not recognize the book Draco had selected. When she questioned him about it, he held it aloft to show the title, Magical Objects: Their Creation and Repair. At her querying look, he informed her, "This book taught me everything I needed to know about mending that Vanishing cabinet in sixth year."

"You kept it all this time? I'm surprised."

"It seemed a shame to discard it simply because I have bad memories associated with it." As he picked his way through the towers of books in physics-defying stacks, he added, "Perhaps someone can put it to a more worthy use than I did."

With a soft smile, she nudged his shoulder and nodded to a veritable archway made of books that could only have been held up by magic. "There looks to be an appropriately sized space in the upper left curve of that arch."

He contemplated the space, sizing it up, then decided, "Just so." The book was levitated into place with little ceremony.

Hermione paused by a precariously leaning pile. The late morning sunlight was streaming through the high window onto it like a spotlight, as she contemplated the stack. Her gaze landed on a specific spot near the top, where it looked like someone might be able to fit a tome just the size of the one she had chosen.

Draco peered over at her title, then frowned, "Hogwarts, A History?"

She nodded. "Yes. It's my favorite book."

He hesitated a moment, then protested, "There have got to be a hundred copies in here…"

"But none of them have got my notes in the margins," she countered, tapping the book's spine with her finger. Seeing the thunderstruck look on his face, she explained, "I added in information about things the book hadn't published. Both Ravenclaw's and Hufflepuff's secret chambers, for one… along with what I knew of the Chamber of Secrets, and the Sword of Gryffindor."

"You mistake my surprise. I am shocked that you actually wrote in a book."

Playfully, she shoved his arm, then placed the volume into the slot she had picked. It fit perfectly, and when she stepped out of the quietude of the Stacks and emerged back into the midnight blue common room on Draco's arm, it felt just right.

.

.

The rarely-used chamber that sat off the Great Hall was not particularly spacious, but it was festively decorated in garlands of summer flowers hanging from the exposed rafters. There were a few tables laden with hors d'oeuvres and flagons of delicious things to drink.

It was a rare situation when Hogwarts decided not to make ceremony of things, but this was one such occasion: this small party amongst the leaving eighth- and seventh-years, and their professors was almost casual.

The headmistress had given a toast to the health and success of all those present, while each of the Heads of Houses had each said a few words, and voiced wishes for the future. Awards had been given, recognitions made, and goodbyes were said. Professor Sprout surprised everyone with the announcement that she was taking Neville on as her apprentice; Neville beamed, his ears flushing with her praise of his knowledge and capabilities. Meanwhile, a photographer from the Daily Prophet caught it all on camera.

Hermione had gone around the room, bidding goodbye to all her professors (Hagrid was hard to escape; she only managed it by slipping away as he blew his nose into a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth). The farewell she made to McGonagall was particularly emotional.

"I shall miss you greatly in my classes, Miss Granger," the professor said fondly. After a second, she corrected herself, "Mrs. Malfoy."

Hermione waved the correction away. "I'm going to miss your tutelage particularly, professor."

"Oh, I have no doubt. Especially the parts where you ignore my instruction and do as your curiosity desires," McGonagall teased with a twinkle in her dark eye. At Hermione's spluttering, she added, "It is a fitting attribute for a person who is a mixture of both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, I think."

Draco approached then to also pay his respects, "Headmistress…"

"Mind you take care of Hermione, now, Mr. Malfoy," Minerva faux-scolded. "Or you'll be hearing from me."

It was said in jest, but Draco still sobered, promising, "To the best of my ability."

"Off with you both, then." The elder witch made a motion of dismissal with her hands, but Hermione could not help noticing that her eyes were shining suspiciously.

After bidding farewell to Professor Flitwick, they made to join Harry, Ginny, and Ron, when they were waylaid by the photographer and an accompanying journalist from the Prophet.

"The Malfoys, I presume?" queried the small, pot-bellied man with the notepad. His beady eyes were scrutinizing them with interest. "Have a minute for a few questions?"

"No, thank you," Hermione answered.

"Aw, come on, princess - it's not every day that there's a couple what gets married while still at Hogwarts… and especially not between the Golden Girl and a Death Eater."

"She said no," Draco snarled, immediately at her defense.

"But the public will have questions," the reporter pushed irritably. There was a fake smile plastered to his face. "Take us only a mo…"

Harry, having noticed the commotion, stepped up behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder, "I believe they declined to comment."

"And?" The pushy man turned and stopped in his tracks. "Oh."

"I don't believe we've met. You aren't working for Skeeter, are you?"

"No." He puffed himself up a bit. "But I'm just doing my job."

Joining the group, Ginny butted in, "Don't you know who he is?"

The photographer had shrunk back into himself and seemed to have forgotten his camera, only watching the exchange from the periphery. Meanwhile, the reporter had turned a bright red, while his mustache quivered, perhaps with words he would like to have said. Finally, he answered, "…Harry Potter. Yeah, I know."

"I love when people do that, it makes me feel like you're famous or something," Ginny wise-cracked. Then, looping her arms through Hermione's and Draco's each, she led them away. "Coming, Harry?"

They quickly left the Prophet representatives behind, to re-join Ron, where the lot of them quickly set to bashing the audacity of the man. Their words quickly had even Draco chuckling - especially Ginny's somewhat vicious renditions of what she hoped would befall the hapless individual. The reporter must have heard at least some of it, because he and his assistant cleared out rather quickly afterward.

Finally, Harry cleared his throat. "Now that they're gone, Ginny and I have an announcement…"

After fumbling around her in her pocket for a moment, Ginny extended her hand as if she were visiting royalty, allowing her new jewelry to sparkle before them for a split second before squealing, "We're engaged! We wanted to hide the ring from the reporters so we had time to tell people ourselves."

Hermione gasped in excitement; Ron turned pale.

Harry grinned. "I asked yesterday - and she even agreed to move in with me."

"We've got to get Grimmauld all spruced up," Ginny determined, no-nonsense. "Next year's going to be a big year…"

"Ginny!" Ron gaped. "Are you pregnant?"

"No, Mum," she retorted, sticking out her tongue at him.

"Then what's the rush!" he demanded, sounding indeed quite a bit like a fretting Molly Weasley.

"I'm just trying to marry my longtime celebrity crush before he changes his mind - duh." She grinned, "We're going to do it next summer."

"The damnable smug expression you're wearing, Hermione, is a carbon copy of Malfoy's," Harry moaned, "and I'm absolutely certain it is going to haunt my nightmares the rest of my days."

"I can't help it!" she insisted, not looking sorry at all. "I'm really excited for you two."

"And you know, she is my wife," Draco added, looking immensely pleased with himself as his trademark smirk slipped onto his own features. "We were bound to pick up a few habits from one another."

The group laughed - even Ron - and discussed what the future held. Harry supplied that he was all set to begin Auror training in a month, while Ginny's plan was to try out for some of the professional Quidditch teams in Britain. Meanwhile Ron, who had originally planned to become an Auror alongside Harry, had decided instead to partner with George in the joke shop to get it open and running again.

"What about you two?" Ginny queried, leveling her gaze at Hermione and Draco.

With a glance at Draco, Hermione smiled and slipped her arm through the crook of his. "We've decided to travel for the next six months. We'll be in Portugal in four days' time."

"From there, we head to Spain, and will begin making our way through Europe, and into the Middle East."

"There goes your theory about them throwing a fancy wedding, Gin," Ron teased.

"It sounds heavenly," Ginny sighed. "Don't forget to write, will you?"

.

.

For those who would not be returning to Hogwarts, they were given two options on how they would like to leave it. Some - especially those who had younger siblings to tend to - chose to take the carriages down to the Hogwarts Express, which would convey them back to King's Cross station like it always had. For the remaining majority, they opted to take the boats back across the Black Lake to leave - in direct juxtaposition to how they had arrived as eleven year olds.

Not to Hermione's surprise, Harry decided to take the train; though Ginny rolled her eyes, she indulged his nostalgia by agreeing to go with him. Though she had expected Ron to join them, Hermione was surprised when he insisted that he meant to take the boats. These were set to leave later in the day, as the train was a far longer journey - students who stepped out of the boats in Hogsmeade were prepared all to simply Apparate home, or else utilize the Floo network from the Three Broomsticks.

Once they had gathered down by the edge of the lake, however, she found out Ron's real intention when he hopped into a boat after Daphne. While Millicent and Tracey both looked intrigued and a little bemused at his sudden presence, as they also shared the boat - Daphne seemed mostly pleased.

Something must have happened at the dance, Hermione decided, smiling as she watched Ron entreat Daphne to go on a real date with him that coming weekend. She agreed with very little convincing, which only confirmed Hermione's suspicions.

When it was their turn, Draco climbed into the boat before her and held out a hand to help her in. Hermione sat and closed her eyes a moment to savor the gentle sloshing of the water lapping at the sides of the vessel. When she opened them again, her face traveled from the rippling surface of the water, up to the shore where she recognized a significant weeping willow - the very same which she and Draco had performed their initial mandala beside.

She turned to observe upon this to him, but he was already grinning at her as he followed her line of vision.

With a smile, she looked down again and smoothed her hand over the rough wood of the oar by her side. She would not need to use it, as it was propelled by magic, but there was a certain something nostalgic about the feel of it on her skin.

"Mind if I join you?"

She looked up. It was Theo. He was shuffling awkwardly on the shoreline, running a hand through his hair obsessively.

"Ridiculous question," Draco scoffed. "Of course you can."

"Thanks." The tall, lean wizard climbed into the boat after them and sat opposite Draco.

"I thought you had planned to take the train?" Hermione queried. "Something about boating being a waste of time, if I recall?"

"Yeah, well, I realized it would be bullshit to take the train all the way back, only to have no one meet me at King's bloody Cross, didn't I? Nah, I'll just Apparate home from Hogsmeade with the rest of you all."

Awkwardly, Hermione shifted, unsure what to say. She knew her parents would have met her at the station if she had asked, but Theo had no one.

"Hey, I know," he brightened, glancing from Draco to Hermione. "You can ask me for your future, I'll tell you three things, and one of them will be true."

"I'm never asking you a bloody thing ever again, you twat," Draco protested. "I nearly died and you never breathed a word!"

"Look…" Theo started, "I already knew you were going to live… and you yelled at me about meddling before, so…"

"What I want to know," Hermione cut in, sensing an argument brewing, "is if Draco and I ever unbind ourselves."

Nott frowned. "Well that's not a game at all."

"You don't have to tell me how," she insisted, "I just want to know if."

Theo exhaled heavily and answered, "Yes - and for whatever reason, you're going to be a little sad about it, Hermione, because Draco won't need his glasses any more."

She grinned, shooting a suggestive look at her husband. "Maybe I can convince him to keep the frames."

Before either of them could answer in kind, and just as their boat was about to bump off from the shore, a fourth person jumped in - Luna.

Without preamble, she turned to Theo, looked him directly in the eyes, and queried, "Are you finished predicting everyone's future yet?"

Flabbergasted, Theo only stumbled over a few gibberish words. "Er, wah, well, I, er…"

She did not seem to mind. "Well, are you going to tell me mine?"

Blinking slowly - though whether at Luna's sudden insertion into their boat and conversation, or at her bluntness, it was hard to tell - Theo's expression slowly morphed into one of utter dumbfoundment. "I… can't See yours."

This did not seem to bother her either. As their boat left the shoreline to join the small fleet of others in their final journey from Hogwarts, Luna explained matter-of-factly, "Well, I'm going to go on to write several books about Rowena Ravenclaw, of course. I'll become the leading scholar of my time."

Draco snorted.

Luna ignored the outburst. "And you, Theo Nott, will make a pilgrimage to the fabled Hall of the Soothsayer… They say the fumes from the incense there can allow a true Seer to find a purpose. Those who chose to remain beyond their pilgrimage are expected to live there almost like monks, but you'll be allowed to stay as long as you like, with acceptance, and then leave when you're ready."

Nott's mouth was physically hanging open. Hermione stifled a laugh as she watched the two interact for the first time. Well, Luna did say she always wanted to meet him...

"I know you don't like the future you See for yourself - and it is a bit bleak - but there is a very real sense of hope that the other Seers can guide you in correct decision-making and on how to act going forward. They can help you harness your powers, recognize issues with altering the things you See…"

"How did I not See you coming?"

Hermione looked at Draco, the two of them silently agreeing to try giving their companions a modicum of privacy. Simultaneously, they turned their backs on them to face the shore.

As the silhouette of Hogwarts, bathed in afternoon sunlight, slowly diminished behind them, Hermione murmured, "Ginny got me thinking back there, at the ceremony."

"Of?" Draco wondered quietly.

"Well, she mentioned that she thought we had been trying to plan a big ceremony… It made me wonder: did you want to do something formal?"

"We could have a big ceremony if you wish," he agreed placidly. "But it will never be the most important day to me."

She smiled, her gaze on the water, and where ripples gently trailed through the water behind their vessel.

"The most important day," he went on, "will always be the 31st of December, last year. You might have been panicked, and I might have been anxious of what the future meant for us… but I will always think fondly of that day."

She smiled and took his hand to squeeze it. "I feel the same."

Hermione glanced over at the other two occupants of their boat; Luna was now giving Theo all sorts of details about how he could hone his abilities at the Hall of the Soothsayer… while he continued to gape at her like a kelpie out of water.

A commotion from some of the other boats ahead of them took Hermione's attention. Looking up at the line of trees that marked the edge of the forbidden forest, she gasped. "Draco, look!"

By the water's edge stood a solitary unicorn, its silver-white flanks shining like starlight made earthbound, even in the daytime. Standing very still, it seemed to be watching them pass.

"Well, what do you know?" he murmured. A smirk slid across his lips. "Nice of it to see us off."

Fin.

Author's Note: Well. I'm an emotional mess. It took 2 years, 8 months, and 17 days, but it's finally... really... done. You may be wondering why I chose not to resolve some things - but it's because in real life, problems don't all go away at the same time, wrapped in a neat little bow. In my head, Daphne does eventually conquer her particular demon on her own, but not at this time. The same for Hermione and her panic attacks… for George and his demons, etc. Some people never do (like Pansy), and they succumb to the darkness. That is life.

How can I ever express enough gratitude to my beta? I was BOTWP has been there for this whole journey: the incessant scenarios I put before her, the ridiculous questions I asked... ah, the invaluable input of an indulgent friend with a brilliant mind. Thank you, again and again.

And thank YOU so, so much for reading my tale. For the silent readers, those who ever favorited or followed... but especially to those who reviewed or sent PMs. Reading your thoughts and reactions, and all the love and support I've been given over the years... it's treasured so greatly, and was truly invaluable to the storyline.

If you're looking for more of my fanfics, please check out my other works, both here and on AO3. I have two other WIPS at the moment, which you can follow if you're interested: This, Too, Is Sacred and Set In Stone.

Thank you for sharing this journey with me.

Cheers,
Edie