She spat the password out before she even had time to think about it; her toes tapped impatiently against the stone when the statue took too long to unwind the staircase. When just enough space was opened for her entrance, she squeezed between the walls, nearly flying up the passage way. She was slightly breathless when she came to him, sitting patiently in his lounge chair, his fingers pressed into a steeple and resting at his chin.

"Oh, Albus, you'll never guess what I got in the post!" she exclaimed in extreme agitation, holding out an ivory piece of parchment that looked as though it had been wrung in her hands for the past several minutes.

"The next issue of Witch Weekly," he supplied with a half-smile, his fingers tapping against one another. She shot him a look that was not quite patient enough to be a scowl, and tossed him the paper.

You are cordially invited to the wedding of

MOLLY PREWETT

and

ARTHUR WEASLEY

At Two O'clock

Wednesday Afternoon

July the Tenth, Nineteen Hundred and Sixty Eight

Ottery St.-Catchpole

He gazed at the script for a few moments, a smile playing on his face.

"There's more to it—directions, I assume. I left them in the envelope." She sighed and caught her face in her hands, rubbing her eyes lightly with the tips of her fingers. "I feel so old, Albus!" she cried suddenly, startling him a bit. She threw her hands from her face and paced the room, and he couldn't tell if he'd caught the hint of a smile on her lips or tears in her eyes. "Some of my first students, getting married."

"Well, we all knew this day would come," he sighed as he lifted himself from his chair, setting the invitation on a nearby table. When she turned to him, he was rather startled to see a faint tear trail down her cheek. She chuckled at herself as he wiped the tear away.

"Would you like me to accompany you?"

"If you're free, yes. I think I'll need it."