Post War Marriage Law - Hermione

chapter 7

As the Hogwarts Express came to a full stop, the mood in the compartment shifted, falling into a solemn hush. Hermione glanced out the window, seeing the carriages lined up along the platform. This year, they were no longer pulled by unseen magic, but by the skeletal, winged Thestrals, creatures only visible to those who had seen death. Their eerie, yet gentle eyes seemed to echo the weight of memories everyone was carrying with them.

Neville broke the silence, staring out the window alongside her. “I didn’t see them at all until… well, after the battle. I never realized they looked like this.”

Hermione nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “They’re strange, aren’t they? In a way, they seem… fitting.”

As they all disembarked and moved toward the carriages, Luna reached out to gently stroke the neck of a nearby Thestral, her expression peaceful. “They’ve always been here, waiting, watching. They understand things we can’t see.”

Ginny gave a small, sad smile, her gaze moving between Luna and the creatures. “It’s strange to think we’ve all grown up so much, in ways we never wanted to. I miss the days when they were invisible, you know?”

“Yeah,” Harry added quietly. “Feels like a lifetime ago.”

Ron looked around, his face tight with emotion. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.”

In silence, the group climbed into a carriage together, each carrying their own thoughts and memories. They felt the slight jerk as the Thestrals began pulling them up toward the familiar castle, yet Hogwarts seemed different, shadowed by the memories of those who were no longer here to make this journey.

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Once they entered the Great Hall, the returning students made their way to their respective tables, while Hermione, Ginny, and the others watched as the new first-years shuffled nervously toward the front. The enchanted ceiling above shimmered with soft evening light, casting a warm glow over the assembled students and teachers alike. The Sorting Hat sat waiting on its stool, looking as worn and wise as ever.

Professor McGonagall, standing tall in her familiar emerald robes, began calling out names one by one. Each young witch and wizard took their turn under the Hat, some looking pale with nerves, others with wide-eyed curiosity. As each new student was sorted into their house, cheers erupted from the tables, filling the hall with echoes of applause. But this year, the cheers were tinged with an underlying solemnity, as if everyone was acutely aware of what Hogwarts had been through.

Hermione couldn’t help but feel a swell of warmth seeing the newest students join her house, each a symbol of the legacy that Hogwarts carried forward. She glanced around the hall at familiar faces, many of whom had returned like her to complete their interrupted schooling. Neville caught her eye and gave a small nod, as if silently agreeing that, despite everything, Hogwarts was still home.

Ginny leaned over, whispering, “Think they have any idea what they’re in for?”

Hermione gave a soft laugh, though her eyes were misty. “Not at all,” she replied. “But they’ll learn—just like we did.”

Finally, the last student took their seat, and McGonagall raised her hands to quiet the hall. She looked out at everyone, her expression a mix of pride and sadness. With a steady voice, she welcomed them back to Hogwarts, noting that while much had changed, the heart of the school—their shared magic, resilience, and hope—remained steadfast.

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After the Sorting Ceremony, Professor McGonagall remained at the podium, her gaze sweeping across the students with both pride and solemnity.