Why am I watching this? It's not like I care. It's not like I should care anymore. I'm dead, after all.

Yes, I am dead. Irrevocably, definitively, removed from the land of the living.

I never considered becoming a ghost, and fortunately I'm not one. I was having quite the adventures, thank you.

Harry graduates today. With honors, though he never sat his NEWTS. But after all he has accomplished, who cares about that tiny detail? Ron and Hermione are with him. Hermione DID take her NEWTS, despite being excused, and aced them all.

I have seen so many children enter Hogwarts, grow up and graduate that I lost track of the sheer number. But there are some I remember. Like James Potter, Harry's father. They no longer resemble each other. Oh yes, Harry still has the messy hair. His face is shaped like his father's. But James Potter, upon graduation, was a bright, happy, bolsterous boy, eager to start Auror training, eager to marry his girlfriend Lily. Harry Potter has the appearance of a boy, but his eyes are that of an old man. Older than mine, no doubt.

Looking behind me, I see where I came from. I am looking at the ceremony as if the ceiling of the hall is a big window. I was curious to know.

Only a year ago I saw them off on their Horcrux quest. Has it only been a year? It seems like forever. Of course, time really has no meaning where I live now. I was headmistress of Hogwarts for two months only. Then the horrible battle came that ended so many lives. I could not remain behind while my staff went into danger, into the Forest, to protect those living there. I don't remember dying. I just ended up here suddenly, looking up in Albus's beaming face, and being offered apple-pie by Perenelle.

I look around. Perenelle is scolding Nicholas and Albus for setting a bad example for the boy. Severus toddles over to her, smiling his sweetest smile, that always makes her melt.

When Severus arrived here, during the last battle, he was too hurt and too weary to heal fully. So, while Albus still held him, he began shrinking. Nicholas had merely smiled at our worried faces, and explained that for Severus to ever be happy, he had to grow up again, with us. When it was over, Albus was holding a six month old infant in his arms.

Harry wouldn't do the speech. Of course not. The poor boy has done enough. Time for him to live his life. Hermione takes over, clearly pre-arranged. She speaks of the war, of the lives lost, of the students who should be standing there with her, instead of being in my world. We meet them sometimes, though they live at different places. They are happy, but they shouldn't be here yet. They should be getting drunk tonight, down there, with their friends, because they graduated.

Only half of the children that entered Hogwarts seven years ago live to graduate. The rest died, on either side of the war, or caught in between. It is a cruel thing, war. I sigh deeply, and Harry looks up, as if he heard me. I can see my sigh reflected in his mind, and I nod at him, letting him know I understand. He smiles, stunned, for a brief second before he turns away. I close the window, and return to where I belong now.