Patrick walked into the great hall. He survived another term. If it wasn’t one thing it was another. He seriously needed to find out why in the world he had to have such an adventurous term each time. His parents never spoke of all these wild things. He swore when he met the new headmaster it would be tame.

Still a bit bummed about losing the Quidditch Cup he put that behind him because he was headed back to the states soon to play some Baseball for the summer and help on his parents farm. So far away from Hogwarts that he wouldn’t be left dangling on the edge of a cliff, having magical creatures attack the place he’s staying, or start growing patches of pink fur. Noticing one of the younger students looking like she was ready to be done with the term he felt that in his soul.

Sitting down about three quarters of the way back he plopped down. Now it was hitting him. Merlin he was going to be in his sixth term after this feast. How in all things magical did he get to this point? He had so much to do and figure out and he really didn’t want to see more of his friends go just yet.