And the school year went on. Final exams approached and Hermione found herself more relieved than ever that she had Harry and Ron once again at her side. The taunting came once again as people slowly began to realize that Hermione and Draco were over. She heard more than one person say “I told you so,” but luckily, Ron and Harry were smart and didn’t rub it in her face.

As Hermione walked out of her last exam – Transfiguration – Ron jogged to her side.

“So…” he began nervously, not sure of her mood. “How’d you do?”

“I actually think it went all right … I might’ve missed number twenty-eight, about the Bynkas, because I don’t think I gave enough detail … but …”

Ron turned around and yelled to Harry. “It’s all right, mate! Come on!”

Harry smiled, nodding, and came to Hermione’s other side.

“What’s all right?” she asked sharply, looking back and forth between the two.

“Well, you know how you sometimes are after exams …” Ron began slowly, trying to pick his words carefully. “You sometime want to go over them and all … and sometimes, if you think you did a bad job … you’re sort of not fun to be around.”

Her jaw dropped open at how he tried to end the sentence simply.

Ron’s eyes got round in fear as she stepped towards him, an angry expression etched into her face. As he backed away, she broke out in laughter.

“You guys are fun. I'm glad you’re scared of me.”

“We’re not scared of you!” Harry protested.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, and then crackled with laughter again.

….

“This may be an ending for some of us,” Hermione said into the microphone placed at the head of the Great Hall. “But leaving Hogwarts is a beginning for me. We’ve all grown up here, and as I look around at my fellow peers, the others my age … older or younger … I realize we’re all going somewhere. I came to this school, insecure, my nose constantly stuck in a book … but I'm leaving with the best friends anyone could ever ask for, and the knowledge of what it really takes to survive. Hogwarts has always been my home and probably always will be … Maybe one day I’ll come back and teach, maybe I won’t … but everything I’ve taken from this place will stay with me for the rest of my life. I know my friends can say the same thing, and I hope, one day, that you’ll also be able to.”

She stepped down and returned to the Gryffindor table, applause erupting around her.

“Once again, that was Valedictorian Hermione Granger,” Dumbledore smiled, nodding in her direction. “We’d like to wish a farewell to the leaving Seventh Years, and for everyone else … I’ll see you next year!”

People clapped once more, and the tables filled with food.

“That was an ‘xellent speech, ‘Ermine,” Ron said through a mouthful of chicken.

“I'm going to miss this place,” Harry sighed, sitting back and looking up at the ceiling. A starry night met his eyes and he shook his head. “It’s just sad to leave, you know? Where am I going to go now when I get in trouble?”

“You’ll always be welcome at my place,” Ron offered. “Speaking of … you told your Uncle you’re coming, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry sat back up straight and reached for a roll. “Like he cares. He’s probably dancing at the thought.”

Ron snorted. “I don’t even want to think of your Uncle dancing. The house might fall down if he did.”

Hermione coughed into her goblet, juice spilling down her front. “Oh, Ron, that’s awful!”

“So is the idea of that madman!”

“You have no idea,” Harry replied, watching the two, amused.

….

“Mum, we’re here!” Ron called into the door of the house. They decided not to ride home on the Hogwarts Express; instead, they had journeyed into Hogsmeade to celebrate with the other graduated Seventh Years.

She raced into the foyer, wrapping two of the three of them into a hug. “Harry – Hermione – it’s so good to see the two of you again!”

Ron stepped back, clearing his throat.

“Oh, and you, Ron!” she smiled, hugging him also. “Dinner’s fixing to come to the table. I hope you’re all hungry.”

“We always are, Mrs. Weasley!” Harry grinned, and they went upstairs to drop off their things. After they left Hermione at Ginny’s door, Harry followed Ron to his shockingly bright orange room. Posters of the Chudley Cannons were distributed unevenly over the neon walls and a full size bed sat in the middle of the room.

“Do you still like her?” Harry asked, finally letting go of his trunk. He had to stretch out his hands; they were sore from carrying such a heavy item up so many stairs without much of a break.

Ron did the same thing, then turned and shrugged. “No, I don’t.”