The glow on the horizon gradually faded.
A few purplish-red wisps of cloud drifted above the tower. The light had not yet fully vanished from the sky, and the slanting sunlight hanging in the western horizon spilled across the school grounds, staining even the edges of the green grass a warm rose-red. Wild roses bloomed in the courtyard, their fragrance rich and heavy. Two slightly plump cats lay sprawled on the lawn, meowing now and then, their soft, fluffy tails swaying faintly as they lazed in the cool air.
This year's End-of-Year Feast officially began.
The seventh years had all arrived early. Rather than scattering themselves across the tables as usual, they chose seats in the front rows near the temporary stage, making it easier to watch the Ghost Play.
Loren ran into Nearly Headless Nick and Moaning Myrtle, who no longer liked to cry. He smiled and nodded at them, flew a few circles around the Gryffindor table, then ducked back underground to continue rehearsing.
The time reached half past six.
The Great Hall gradually grew livelier, and the atmosphere became increasingly festive.
The professors had arrived early tonight as well. Instead of taking their places at the High Table straight away, they spread out among the House tables and greeted the seventh-year students. From time to time, they wandered over to the other Houses too. Dumbledore was there to join in the fun, and wherever he went, cheers followed. Even Professor Snape sat at the Gryffindor table for several minutes.
"Just now, I was bored, so I sat with the younger students for a while," Loren said, leaning close to Hermione's ear. "Aside from hearing them talk about Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore, I heard some of them talking about Professor Snape too. They said he left midway through