Chapter 18: Summer Term Ends

On the last night of the summer term, the wards were allowed to sleep.

The Accord named one stretch in the year when no watch was kept.

It ran from the day the first year went home to the day it came back.

The Warden read the clause aloud at ten o'clock, in the Boundary Gallery, with the clerk standing behind him and a lamp on the table.

Harry and Draconia stood on either side of the cradle with their wands crossed.

"You may release them," said the Warden.

They did not move.

It was a small thing, and the Warden noticed it, and made a note.

Draconia lifted her wand first, because she was the one who always did.

The silver flickered, and went out along the hill from stone to stone.

The gallery went dark except for the lamp.

Harry put his own wand in his pocket, and for the first time since October his hands did not know what to do.

"Good night," said the Warden. "You have done tolerably well."

"Thank you," said Draconia, "sir."

They walked out together, and neither said a word as far as the head of the stair.

He tried the latch.

Once.

She stood with her back against the wall, in her travelling cloak, with the green scarf folded over her arm.

"You will want this back," she said.

"Keep it."

"I don't think I should," she said. "It's a Malfia scarf on a Peverell neck. It has had an eventful term."

"Keep it, Draconia."

It was the second time he had said her name in front of anyone, and the first time she did not tell him not to.

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