The final feast of the school year arrived with a gentle inevitability, like the last note of a familiar song. In the Great Hall, golden plates gleamed beneath the enchanted sky, waiting to be filled one last time before summer claimed the students of Hogwarts. The excitement of Harry's Triwizard victory still lingered in the air, but now mingled with the bittersweet anticipation of farewells, creating an atmosphere both jubilant and wistful. At the Hufflepuff table, Chris sat surrounded by his now-familiar circle of friends, his eyes taking in every detail of the scene, carefully committing it to memory.
Susan leaned close to him, her hair brushing against his shoulder. "Hard to believe it's over," she murmured, her voice carrying the same mixed emotions that filled the hall. "It feels like just yesterday we were sitting here for the Welcoming Feast."
"And now look at us," Hannah added from across the table, her blonde plaits adorned with small yellow flowers in honor of the occasion. "A Triwizard Champion in our study group, and all of us top of our classes."
Chris nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "We've accomplished quite a lot this year," he agreed, his gaze drifting briefly to the staff table where Dumbledore sat in his ornate central chair. The Headmaster's customary twinkle remained, but his bearing just slightly less assured than it had been at the start of term. The recent revelations about his past had taken their toll.
Astoria wiggled excitedly beside her sister, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing. "Are we going to win the House Cup too? That would be the perfect ending!" Her enthusiasm drew an indulgent smile from Daphne, who smoothed her sister's hair with uncharacteristic tenderness.
"I believe Gryffindor has that honor secured," she replied dryly. "Potter's victory ensured that."
As if summoned by the mention of his name, Harry appeared at the edge of their table, his green eyes bright with contentment behind his round glasses. "Mind if I join you for a bit before the feast starts?" he asked, gesturing to the empty space beside Hannah. "Ron's saving my seat at Gryffindor, but I wanted to see you all first."
"Of course," Chris replied warmly, shifting to make more room. "You're always welcome with us, Harry."
Harry slid onto the bench, his demeanor more relaxed than they had seen all year. The weight of the tournament had lifted from his shoulders, leaving behind a young man who seemed both more at ease and more mature than the uncertain boy who had faced the dragon in November.
"I still can't believe it's all over," he said, echoing Susan's earlier sentiment. "The tournament, the school year... everything."
Hermione arrived then, her bushy hair tamed into an elegant knot for the occasion. She greeted them all with a smile before taking the seat next to Daphne. "The carriages for Beauxbatons and the ship for Durmstrang are already prepared," she informed them. "They'll be leaving right after the feast."
Conversation flowed easily among them, reminiscing about the year's highlights and speculating about the summer ahead, until Dumbledore rose from his seat. The chatter throughout the hall gradually faded as students turned their attention to the Headmaster.
"Another year gone," Dumbledore began. "And what a year it has been. We have hosted the Triwizard Tournament, welcomed friends from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, and witnessed extraordinary displays of magical skill and courage."
His gaze swept across the hall, pausing briefly on Harry. "I would like to once again congratulate Mr. Potter on his remarkable victory in the Tournament. His performance demonstrated not only magical aptitude beyond his years, but the quintessential Gryffindor qualities of bravery and determination."
Polite applause rippled through the hall, with the Gryffindor table erupting into more enthusiastic cheers. Harry ducked his head slightly, a flush of pride coloring his cheeks.
"Now, to the business of the House Cup," Dumbledore continued. "In fourth place, Ravenclaw, with three hundred and fifty-two points. In third place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and seventy-six points. In second place, Slytherin, with four hundred and twenty-six points. And in first place, with four hundred and seventy-two points, Gryffindor House."
The hall exploded with red and gold as the Gryffindor banners unfurled from the ceiling. At the Gryffindor table, students leapt to their feet in celebration, while the other houses offered varying degrees of congratulatory applause. Even Daphne gave a small, gracious nod of acknowledgment.
"Yes, yes, well done, Gryffindor," said Dumbledore, waiting for the noise to subside. "And now, before we enjoy our feast, I would like to extend my sincere gratitude to our guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Your presence has enriched our school and our lives. We hope you carry fond memories of Hogwarts back to your homes."
Madame Maxime rose, her immense figure commanding attention even among the crowded hall. "It 'as been our pleasure, Dumbly-dorr," she replied with dignified warmth. "Ze friendship between our schools is strengthened by zis experience."
Igor Karkaroff's response was more reserved, a curt nod and a few formal words of thanks that did little to mask his evident relief at the tournament's conclusion. Throughout the year, he had grown increasingly tense, his dark eyes often darting nervously around the hall as though expecting danger from any corner.
"And now," Dumbledore concluded, "let us enjoy this final feast together. Tuck in!"
The golden plates filled instantly with a sumptuous array of dishes that surpassed even the regular Hogwarts fare. Roast beef, lamb chops, pork tenderloin, five kinds of potatoes, vegetables prepared in a dozen different ways, boats of thick gravy, and baskets of fresh bread appeared before the delighted students.
As they ate, the atmosphere in the hall grew more relaxed, conversations flowing between tables and even between schools. The barriers of competition that had defined much of the year seemed to dissolve in the face of impending farewells.
When the feast concluded, with the last crumbs of treacle tart and spoonfuls of ice cream vanishing from golden dessert plates, the moment for international goodbyes arrived. Students began to rise, moving between tables to exchange final words with new friends.
Fleur Delacour approached the Hufflepuff table with graceful purpose, her silvery-blonde hair cascading over the shoulders of her blue Beauxbatons uniform. Several boys from nearby tables turned to watch her passage, but her attention was fixed solely on Chris and his friends.
"I wanted to zank you all," she said, her French accent lilting pleasantly, "for your kindness zis year. Not many treated me as... just Fleur." Her blue eyes held genuine warmth as they moved from face to face, lingering longest on Chris. "Especially you, Christopher. Your... interesting insights 'ave given me much to think about."
There was a deeper meaning in her words, an acknowledgment of conversations held away from others, advice given and received. Chris inclined his head slightly, accepting both her thanks and the unspoken subtext.
"It was our pleasure, Fleur," he replied. "I hope our paths cross again."
"Zey will," she assured him with quiet confidence. "I 'ave accepted a position at Gringotts for ze coming year. To improve my English." A smile touched her lips. "So I will be in London, and we shall correspond, non?"
"I'd like that very much," Chris said.
Fleur bent down then, placing a kiss on each of his cheeks in the French fashion, though perhaps lingering a moment longer than strictly necessary. "Au revoir, Christopher," she murmured, before moving to say goodbye to the others.
As Fleur moved away, Viktor Krum approached from the Durmstrang table. His heavy brows were drawn together in their usual serious expression, but there was a hint of something almost friendly in his dark eyes.
"Potter," he said with a curt nod to Harry. "Good work in the maze. You deserved the win." The acknowledgment, so simple yet clearly difficult for the proud Durmstrang champion, seemed to please Harry more than the elaborate congratulations of others.
"Thanks, Viktor," Harry replied, extending his hand. "You were brilliant too."
Krum shook the offered hand firmly, then turned to Chris. "Emrys," he said, the same respectful nod accompanying the name. No further words passed between them, but something in Krum's expression suggested recognition of Chris's role in Harry's success, an athlete's acknowledgment of good coaching.
Soon after, the students of Hogwarts spilled out onto the grounds to watch the departures. The Beauxbatons carriage stood ready, its enormous winged palominos pawing impatiently at the ground. Madame Maxime helped her students aboard before taking her own seat, raising one giant hand in a final farewell as the carriage rose into the air, growing smaller and smaller until it was just a speck against the blue summer sky.
The Durmstrang ship made a more dramatic exit, sinking gradually beneath the surface of the Black Lake in a swirl of magical current, leaving only ripples to mark its passage back to northern waters.
"And that's that," Susan sighed, her hand finding Chris's as they turned back toward the castle. "Just the train ride home left now."
...
The next morning dawned clear and bright, perfect weather for the journey back to London. Trunks were packed, dormitories cleared of personal belongings, and tearful promises to write exchanged between friends as students made their way to Hogsmeade Station.
Aboard the Hogwarts Express, Chris secured a compartment for their group, helping Susan and Hannah stow their trunks in the overhead rack. Hermione arrived moments later, followed by Daphne with Astoria skipping at her heels. Harry joined them just as the train's whistle sounded, sliding the compartment door closed behind him with a sigh of relief.
"Escaped the reporters," he explained, dropping into the seat beside Hermione. "Rita Skeeter's been trying to corner me for an exclusive interview about the tournament all morning."
"She won't bother you much anymore," Chris said with quiet certainty, settling himself by the window with Astoria immediately claiming her usual place on his lap. His fingers absently stroked her strawberry blonde hair as the train began to move, Hogwarts castle gradually receding in the distance.
"How can you be so sure?" Harry asked, curious.
Chris merely smiled. "Let's just say she and I have an understanding."
As the Scottish countryside rolled past the windows, conversation turned to summer plans.
"My parents are taking me to France for two weeks," Hermione said, her eyes bright with anticipation. "There's a magical district in Paris that's supposedly even older than Diagon Alley. I've been reading all about it."
"We're staying at my aunt's cottage by the sea," Hannah shared, gesturing between herself and Susan. "And then Susan's coming to stay with me for the second half of summer."
"That sounds lovely," Hermione replied. "What about you, Daphne?"
"Greengrass Manor, as usual," Daphne said, her tone neutral. "Mother has arranged several social engagements for us." She glanced at her sister, who was now half-dozing against Chris's chest. "And Astoria has her dance lessons to continue."
"And you, Harry?" Chris asked. "Will you be spending the entire summer with your relatives?"
Harry's face brightened considerably. "No, actually. Sirius has a house in London that he's fixing up. He says I can come stay with him after a couple of weeks at the Dursleys. He's got official guardianship now, thanks to that legal help you recommended."
"Excellent," Chris nodded, genuinely pleased for Harry. "You deserve a proper home."
The compartment door slid open then, revealing Ron Weasley. The redhead stood awkwardly in the doorway, his height making him stoop slightly under the low frame.
"Alright, Harry?" he asked, ignoring the others in the compartment. "Just wondering if you wanted to come play Exploding Snap with Seamus and Dean for a bit."
Harry hesitated, glancing around at the group. Ron's cold shoulder toward him had thawed considerably since the first task, warming further with each of Harry's tournament successes, but there remained an unspoken tension between him and Harry's study group.
"Go ahead," Chris encouraged with a small smile. "We'll be here when you get back."
With a grateful nod, Harry followed Ron out of the compartment. The door had barely closed behind them when Daphne raised an elegant eyebrow.
"Weasley seems to have conveniently forgotten his behavior at the beginning of the year," she observed coolly.
"People change," Chris replied with a shrug. "Or at least, their allegiances do. Harry needs all the support he can get."
The journey continued pleasantly, with sweets from the trolley, games of wizarding chess between Susan and Hermione, with Susan winning each match, and comfortable silences filled only with the rhythmic click-clack of the train's wheels. Harry returned after an hour, settling back into their company with evident relief.
"Ron's still Ron," he said by way of explanation, accepting a Chocolate Frog from Hannah.
As the train approached London, the mood in the compartment grew more subdued. Astoria, now fully awake again, looked close to tears.
"I don't want summer to come," she declared, burying her face against Chris's shoulder. "I won't see you every day anymore."
Chris gently tilted her chin up, meeting her eyes. "Summer will pass quickly," he assured her. "And we'll see each other again before you know it."
"Promise?" she asked, her lower lip trembling slightly.
"Promise," he replied, sealing the vow with a gentle tap on her nose that made her giggle despite herself.
The train slowed as it pulled into Platform 9¾, billowing steam past the windows as it came to a complete stop. The platform beyond was a heaving mass of parents waiting for their children, trunks being unloaded, and tearful goodbyes between friends.
"Well," Chris said, standing as Astoria reluctantly slid from his lap, "here we are."
They retrieved their trunks and made their way onto the platform, staying close together in the swirling chaos of reunions and departures. Families called out to one another, owls hooted in their cages, and the steam from the engine created a dreamlike haze over everything.
"Susan, Hannah," Chris said, turning to the two Hufflepuff girls who had become his closest house companions, "shall we meet in Diagon Alley for school supplies? Third week of August, perhaps?"
"Perfect," Susan agreed, her fingers briefly twining with his in a gesture of affection. "I'll owl you with the details."
Hannah hugged him impulsively, her blonde plaits bouncing. "Have a wonderful summer, Chris."
To Hermione and Daphne, he offered similar farewells, with specific encouragement. "Don't let your minds grow idle over summer," he advised with a knowing smile. "I suspect next year will require all our intellectual resources."
Finally, he turned to Harry, extending his hand. As they shook, Chris spoke in a lower voice, meant for Harry's ears alone. "Stay safe, Harry. And remember what we discussed." The reminder referred to their private conversations about Dumbledore, about trusting one's own strength rather than authority figures, about the importance of being prepared for whatever might come.
Harry nodded, a new understanding in his green eyes. "I will," he promised. "See you in September, Chris."
With final waves to his friends, Chris made his way to the public Floo connection on the platform. Unlike most students, he preferred not to take the Muggle exit into King's Cross proper. With a pinch of powder and a clearly spoken "Ambrosia Manor," he stepped into the emerald flames and vanished from the bustling platform.
He emerged in the grand entrance hall of Ambrosia Manor, where Bouncy waited with characteristic enthusiasm.
"Master Chrissy is home! Master Chrissy is back!" The house-elf bounced from foot to foot, his ears flapping with excitement. "Jilly has prepared Master's favorite dinner and aired out all the rooms and made everything perfect-perfect for Master's return!"
"Thank you, Bouncy," Chris said with genuine warmth. "It's good to be home."