The Great Hall had never looked so radiant.
Golden light poured through the tall windows, painting the room in rich warmth as the enchanted ceiling mirrored the early summer sky—flecked with rose-gold clouds and a sun that refused to set just yet. The tables sparkled with polished silverware and glittering goblets, every plate filled with the kind of food that made even the professors abandon formality. Roasted meats, colorful vegetables, sweets stacked higher than Fred and George's latest prank plans—it was a celebration worthy of a battle won.
And it had been a battle.
Not one fought with swords or spells in the open, but a quiet one, fought in corridors and shadows. In friendship, loyalty, and trust. And tonight, that victory was written in the smiles around the room.
Lennon sat at the Gryffindor table, her chin propped in her hand as she picked lazily at a slice of treacle tart. The conversations around her were a hum of joy—Hermione retelling the moment she woke up and realized she'd missed everything, Ron and Harry trying to explain spiders and flying cars, Ginny shyly hugging her brothers every few minutes like she needed to make sure they were really still there.
Across the hall, Lennon's gaze caught on a trio of green-robed figures.
Mattheo, Lorenzo, and Theodore sat together at the Slytherin table, but their eyes often wandered toward her. When she caught Mattheo looking, he didn't look away. He gave her a small nod—a private signal that made her heart lift just a little more.
He hadn't said much after their moment by the lake. He didn't need to. They understood each other in silence now.
Beside her, Hermione nudged her arm gently. "You're smiling," she teased.
Lennon glanced at her. "And?"
"And that's the first time I've seen you do that without a hint of exhaustion in weeks."
Lennon rolled her eyes but didn't deny it.
Across the hall, Fred and George stood on their benches, dramatically clearing their throats as if about to deliver a speech. Dumbledore, at the staff table, raised a single amused eyebrow but said nothing.
"Dear Hogwarts," Fred began.
"We are gathered here," George continued, "not just to celebrate the end of another school year, but the narrow avoidance of being eaten, cursed, or otherwise dramatically inconvenienced."
"Especially by large snakes," Fred added, earning a laugh from the entire Gryffindor table.
"And egotistical professors," George chimed in.
Lockhart's empty seat at the staff table remained conspicuously untouched.
Lennon stifled a laugh behind her goblet. Even McGonagall didn't stop them. Tonight, the rules were just a little softer.
Once the twins finally sat, Dumbledore rose, his twinkling gaze scanning the hall.
"This year has tested every one of you," he said. "Bravery has been shown in the most unexpected of ways. Loyalty, even in the face of fear. And friendship… friendship proved stronger than any curse."
The room fell silent under the weight of his words.
"I ask only this of you, as you leave for your summer: do not forget what this year has taught you. Kindness is a strength, and unity—a force no dark magic can break."
There was a pause, then thunderous applause that echoed through the rafters.
As the feast resumed, Theodore wandered over from the Slytherin table, balancing a bowl of strawberries and a smug look. "Lorenzo says you owe us a thank-you."
Lennon raised a brow. "For what, exactly?"
"For giving your life the thrill of chaos, naturally."
Mattheo appeared just behind him. "They're angling for poetic speeches again. Don't let them."
"I've got one," Lorenzo said as he arrived beside them, snatching a strawberry from Theo's bowl. "Lennon—savior of Gryffindor, survivor of Weasley twin mischief, breaker of Slytherin pride…"
"I will hex you," Lennon warned playfully.
Mattheo smirked, his hand brushing briefly against hers under the table.
"I already told them," Lennon said, her voice quieter now, "I've got chaos covered."
Fred, somewhere nearby, had just made a pudding explode.
"But if you three want to make it official…" She smiled. "You're welcome in the madness."
Lorenzo grinned. Theodore raised his glass. Mattheo leaned closer, murmuring just loud enough for her to hear, "We'll try not to burn anything down."
"No promises," Theo added.
The feast carried on around them—house banners swaying gently, laughter mixing with clinking silverware, and the kind of joy that only came when you'd nearly lost everything, and somehow got it all back.
When the plates finally cleared and the golden sky dimmed to soft twilight, Lennon stood beside her friends—old and new—as the Great Hall slowly emptied.
There was still so much ahead. More battles, more secrets, more choices.
But tonight, Hogwarts felt whole again.
And Lennon, for the first time in a long while, felt at home.
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