The castle breathed again.
The morning after the longest night of the year dawned bright and golden, sunlight spilling through the high windows of the Great Hall as though Hogwarts itself had exhaled at last.
The parents had been Floo'd home the evening before — the Muggle families escorted gently by Aurors through the castle's fireplaces, their farewells a flurry of hugs. The magical families departed more quietly, with nods and lingering glances at a school that would not feel their presence again.
Now, the last breakfast of the term was in full swing. House banners rippled lazily overhead, and the smell of toast and summer fruit filled the air. The students' trunks — neatly packed and sealed by house-elves — waited outside their dormitories, ready to be loaded onto the train.
At the Ravenclaw table, Shya and Talora sat with the rest of their circle — Cassian, Roman, Padma, Lisa, Mandy, and Luna — a knot of laughter and easy chatter in a hall that, for the first time in months, truly felt alive.
"Do you think the school will be as dramatic next year?" Mandy asked, balancing her goblet precariously.
"Hopefully less dragon-sized spiders this time," Lisa said, making a face.
Padma smirked. "That's an optimistic view of Hogwarts."
Talora, calm but smiling, rested her chin on her hand. "I'm just glad to be going to a home without a monster in the basement."
"Speak for yourself," Shya said, grinning. "I still have to explain to my dad how telescopes can see beyond Jupiter. He's probably already planning a visit next year."
Mandy raised her cup in salute. "At least your father finds astronomy fascinating. Mine still thinks magical theory is a polite way of saying unemployable."
Lisa snorted. "Mine thinks dueling counts as networking."
That drew a round of laughter, warm and real.
Even Luna giggled softly, feeding a crumb of pastry to a passing owl that landed on the table. "You're all much louder than usual," she said serenely. "I like it. It sounds like peace."
They fell quiet for a moment, letting that truth settle.
Across the hall, the Gryffindor table told a different story. The usual din of noise and laughter was gone, replaced by uncertain whispers and sidelong looks.
Harry and Ron sat near the end — reinstated among their housemates, but isolated all the same. No one spoke to them. No one even sat close. The fallout of the Chamber had left them heroes in rumor and pariahs in truth.
Further down, Hermione Granger sat with Neville Longbottom, her toast untouched. Her eyes were still red from the night before.
She'd gone to McGonagall's office desperate for reassurance — and left with a truth heavier than any reprimand. The professor's words still echoed in her mind: You are not their equal partner. You are their caretaker.
Now she watched the boys in silence, confusion and hurt warring in her chest. Neville, kind and unassuming, tried to fill the quiet.
"Everyone's been talking," he murmured, fidgeting with his cup. "Some say they tried to stop the professors. Others say they just panicked. No one really knows anymore. It's all gone a bit mad."
Hermione managed a faint, strained smile. "I think I know enough," she said softly.
Neville didn't press her. They ate in silence — two quiet Gryffindors in a hall brimming with noise they no longer shared.
At the staff table, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore rose, clearing his throat and tapping his spoon against a goblet for attention.
"My dear students!" he smiling so wide his mustache quivered. "Congratulations on surviving another year — quite literally, this time!"
Laughter swept through the room. Even the staff smiled, though McGonagall's quill was still visible in her hand — a reminder of the endless paperwork awaiting her.
"Do remember," Dumbledore continued, "to do your summer reading! And for those of you who forgot last year — yes, we will know."
Groans followed, mingled with laughter. The tension melted, replaced by the easy buzz of summer anticipation.
By mid-morning, the carriages were waiting beyond the gates — sleek and dark, their harnesses gleaming in the sun. The air was sweet and heavy with the smell of grass and distant lake water.
Students poured out of the castle in small clusters, their robes rippling in the wind.
The Eight walked together, wands tucked away, their laughter trailing like a ribbon behind them.
"Next year," Cassian said, "I'm convincing Flitwick to let us have an independent research project."
"You mean," Padma corrected, "convincing Talora to convince him for you."
Talora laughed. "I'm not your magical secretary."
"Too late," Roman said. "You're the responsible one."
"Only because you can glare people into good behavior," Mandy teased.
Luna smiled dreamily. "That's a very useful power."
They were still laughing when they reached the first carriage.
Then Shya stopped.
The others didn't notice right away — they were too busy arguing about snacks, waving to friends, chasing errant owls. But Shya stood perfectly still, eyes wide.
The carriages weren't empty.
Great, skeletal creatures stood harnessed to them — black as shadow, their wings half-spread, their hides gleaming like oil on water. The sun struck their faces, revealing sharp bones, empty eyes, and a kind of fragile, ancient beauty.
No one else reacted.
Students climbed in, chatting and joking, utterly unaware of the creatures before them.
Shya's breath hitched. "You see them, don't you?" she asked softly — though she wasn't sure to whom.
Luna stepped forward, calm and radiant in her own quiet way. "Yes," she said simply. "Aren't they beautiful?"
One of the Thestrals turned its head toward Shya, nostrils flaring as though recognizing her curiosity. For a breathless second, girl and creature regarded each other — no fear, only knowing.
Talora called from the carriage, "Shya! Come on, we'll miss our compartment!"
Shya blinked, torn from the moment. She smiled faintly. "Coming."
She climbed into the carriage beside her friends. As it lurched forward, the Thestral spread its wings and began to walk, the sunlight catching the delicate texture of its hide — dark, shimmering, alive.
The laughter of the Eight drifted through the morning air, rising above the wheels and the wind, carried toward the distant train station and the promise of summer.
And behind them, Hogwarts stood gleaming — ancient, eternal, watching over them all.
***
The Hogwarts Express was a riot of noise and motion, a long scarlet snake steaming through the sun-drenched countryside. After securing a compartment and shoving their trunks into the overhead racks, the eight of them collapsed into the seats, the final adrenaline of the term slowly giving way to the lazy comfort of the journey home.
"So," Talora began, stretching her legs out. "Mum owled this morning. We're not going back to Devon until August. We have to stay in our London home for the whole summer."
Shya nodded, a similar letter in her own pocket. "Same. Mum was trying to sound disappointed, but I think she's secretly thrilled. She hates being away from home for long."
Cassian, who had been gazing out the window, turned back. "That's... a coincidence. I will also be staying in the city for this summer"
Roman's eyebrows shot up. "You're joking. My father said we will be staying due to something happening at Wizengamot" A slow grin spread across his face. "So... we're all going to be in London for the summer?"
The compartment erupted in excited chatter.
"Brilliant!" Talora said, her face lighting up. "We can meet up! We can actually do things without having to worry about curfew or Filch!"
"Or basilisks," Shya added dryly, though she was smiling.
The excitement, however, wasn't universal. Mandy sighed dramatically. "Lucky you. My mum's dragging the whole family to Greece for the summer to stay with her sister. Completely Muggle. No magic at all for two months. I'm going to forget how to hold my wand."
Lisa leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. "That's still better than my trip. My dad's with the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and he's been assigned to a conference in Mexico for six weeks. He says we can come, but Mum and I will be stuck doing tourist stuff while he works. He did say a lot of the ancient ruins are off-limits, though. Apparently, curse-breaking teams are still working at the big pyramids."
Padma, who had been quietly listening, chimed in. "Parvati and I are going to America for the whole summer. Five of our cousins are getting married. It's going to be a marathon of 'Big Fat Indian Weddings'. I'll probably come back ten pounds heavier just from the food."
Talora's face fell slightly. "You're all going to miss my birthday," she said, a genuine note of disappointment in her voice. Her birthday on July 25th had always been a highlight of her summer.
Roman nudged her foot with his. "Hey, I'll be there. We can cause some trouble in London."
Talora gave him a playful scowl. "Ugh, you're a boy. I want my girls there."
"Don't worry, Talora," Padma said warmly. "We will send the best presents we can find. I'll find you something amazing in America."
"Same from Mexico!" Lisa added. "I'll find a genuine, non-cursed artifact. Or at least a really cool sombrero."
"And I'll send you something sunny from Greece," Mandy promised. "Even if it's just a postcard of a very handsome statue."
Talora laughed, her good mood restored. "Okay, deal. But you have to promise they'll reach me by the twenty-fifth!"
The conversation drifted to plans for their summer meetings—visiting Diagon Alley, maybe even a carefully supervised trip into Muggle London.
The train carried them onward, the Scottish hills flattening into green fields. Inside their compartment, surrounded by the promise of a summer together and the bonds forged in a year of terror and triumph, the future felt not just safe, but bright with possibility.
The horrors of the Chamber were behind them, and ahead lay the warm, golden days of a London summer, waiting to be filled with laughter and the easy comfort of friendship.