Errand A Fond Farewell to Our Seventh Years

Graci had always thought that the 7th years were admirable. Scary and intimidating, but admirable. They just seemed so smart. Knowledgeable. And, if she really thought about it, survived Hogwarts for seven years. An impressive feat in and of itself.

Which was exactly why she had come to the small hall and stared at a lonesome piece of parchment for what seemed like ages, contemplating what to write.

It wasn't that she didn't have anything to write, just that she didn't know how to say it. Or what to say. No, I just have no idea what to write.

Graci was glad that there were few other people to witness her indecisiveness. There were a lot of thoughts in her head, and not all of them very productive in the moment. Merlin, it's just a note. Can it really be that hard?

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓭𝓾𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓼.
𝓘'𝓶 𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓿𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰.
𝓨𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓷 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓯𝓾𝓷 𝓪𝓭𝓾𝓵𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰!
-𝓖. 𝓛𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓷, 𝓪𝓷 𝓲𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻

Graci didn't know how she felt about that one. It seemed to childish, but then again, she was only twelve. Maybe short and sweet was good? Maybe she was supposed to do something more heartfelt? She didn't know any of the seventh years in anything but title.

She decided she didn't mind. Maybe take out her name, if she really felt embarrassed about it. But Graci wasn't embarrassed. No one really knew her last name, save for the teachers and the one or two people who she had introduced herself to with her first and last name. There probably weren't too many of those though. And this small, insignificant piece of paper would probably just get lost in the plethora of encouragements.

It would actually be quite embarrassing- if someone read this. Good thing I signed it 'immature first year' so I do have an excuse if they know me. Or sought me out. But they wouldn't do that.

Graci finished her note with a flourish, thinking it quite cool that they had different colors of ink. It makes it much more personalized, and rather adorable. I would do green, but then it might seem like I'm in Slytherin. Stupid house colors. Why do they have to have colors. It makes it easier to determine what house we're in, but that just opens way for colors to start being prejudiced.

She just sighed, figuring her note wouldn't be getting any better. I really wish it could though. Maybe next year. Or this year....

Graci quickly got to scribbling a revised version of her previous one.

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓱 𝓨𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓼, 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓲𝓭 𝓲𝓽.
𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓮 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓼. 𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓽’𝓼, 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮… 𝓪 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓭𝓸 𝓪𝓷𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓿𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓶𝓫𝓼 (𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓲𝓽𝔂?) 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓬𝓽. 𝓨𝓸𝓾’𝓻𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓵𝓮𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝔀. 𝓝𝓸 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓮. 𝓓𝓸𝓷’𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓮𝓪𝓽, 𝓼𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓹, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓬𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓫𝓵𝔂 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓵 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓵𝓭.
𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪𝔀𝓮 (𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓳𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓼𝔂), 𝓖. 𝓛𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓷, 𝓐 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓕𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓨𝓮𝓪𝓻

"Ah, much better. More me. I like to think parenthesis are more my style than boring simple sentences."

███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████

OOC note:
First note so you can read it: Dear graduating seventh years,
I'm impressed you managed to survive that long.
You're an inspiration, have fun adulting!
-G. Laren, an immature first year

Second note so you can read it (This is the one she actually chose to use): Dear seventh years, you did it.
Seven whole years. That's like... a really long time to do anything, especially survive the castle with all limbs (and dignity?) intact. You're kind of legends now. No pressure. Don't forget to eat, sleep, and cast responsibly in the Real World
With awe (and some jealousy), Graci Laren, A Little First Year.

coded by Eugenia Karageorgiadi

banner by elena clark

date- June 12th, 2025 wc- 490

interacting/mentioning- no one ooc notes-

With graduation just around the corner, Sage couldn't help but be impressed by the graduating class. Seven years at the school, potentially more for some, felt like a lifetime. How would she feel when she was in the same position in the next few years? Despite not having any strong connections with a majority of the seventh years, Sage was still immensely proud of them for all their hard work.

It felt crazy to Sage that by the end of the month she would be a third year. How time flew! And that left her with... four years until she graduated, if you went from third year. With a bunch of new classes and opportunities for next year, Sage knew she was looking forward for next year. She loved her current classes, but Muggle Studies, Runes, Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, it all seemed so fun. It would all prepare her for when she graduated.

Entering the small hall, Sage took in the scene. She walked in the direction of the writing supplies to draft out a few messages for the older years. But what to write? She'd only graduated from her first year around a year ago, she had limited experience from graduating after long periods at the school. She felt extremely under qualified to give advice to those who would go out and get jobs or go to universities.

Seventh years,
Congratulations are an order. I can only imagine how you feel, graduating after seven years at the same school. I hope you had the time of your lives here at Hogwarts with the rest of us. I know I've enjoyed seeing your mark in various areas of the school like sports or the Headliner. Some of you have even been my fellow prefects. Whatever you've done, give yourself a round of applause. Even if you feel like you've done less than your peers. I see your legacy in this school and you should be proud. I'm proud of you. Wherever you plan to go in life, may you have a wonderful time getting there. Good luck with your future jobs and families. You've done great here at Hogwarts, and you will continue to excel in the other aspects of your life. I'm sure of it. Thank you for everything you've done for us younger years. You'll be missed around the halls of the school.
Best wishes,
Sage W.

Setting down her little note, Sage nodded to herself. It would have to do. She honestly had a limited idea of what she would be doing next year what extracurriculars she would be, in what classes she would take. It all just felt like a lot. But props to the graduating class for managing it all for seven years.

She pinned her message up onto the board and took a step back. "Good luck, seventh years," she whispered to no one in particular. She turned and exited the room.

Interacting with: N/A Mentioning: N/A Date: 06/12/25

Word Count: 539

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

Avery took in a deep breath as she sat on her bed. In just a few weeks, she would be a second year and the seventh years would disappear from Hogwarts and enter the real world where not everything was as easy and laid out. She just hoped that things would go well for them. Though she didn't know any seventh years personally, she had watched them from afar and admired their steadfast hold on what they did. She also admired their endurance to survive through all seven years of Hogwarts. That alone was a triumph for them. Avery couldn't wait until she graduated. She would finally be free from her mother's grasp and be free do finally do what she wanted. She could also move back home to a place where she belonged. A realization dawned on Avery at that thought. By then, what would she be like? Would she be strong and brave like a true Gryffindor should, or would she be beaten and worn out from the constant turmoil she knew was coming for her. She didn't know, but she did know one thing. She wasn't going to stop trying and pushing herself. She would do it someday. Someday she would be the one saying farewell to Hogwarts for forever. That alone helped straighten her posture and stand. She could do it. Just like the seventh years. Avery walked out of her dorm and out the portrait that led into the hall. She had heard something about a farewell message to the seventh years, so she decided to go and check it out. As she walked down the stairs, she couldn't stop thinking about what she would write. So many things could be said about these steadfast students that she didn't have the right words yet. Maybe they would come to her once she got there. She could only hope that was the case. As she entered the small hall, she read the instructions carefully written across the board. Avery grabbed a quill and a sheet of paper and began to write. Now was finally her time to find the right words, and congratulate the seventh years on their achievements. Seventh Years, Congratulations on making it this far! You have proven yourselves to be steadfast and strong individuals with a mindset to succeed. I wish you all well as you enter the real world. I know at times it won't be easy, but I encourage you to stay strong as always. Don't forget your times spent at Hogwarts and the friends you made. They are a key to the good and bad times that you went through together. I would like to say that even though none of us have formally met or even been acquainted for that matter, I would like to say that I hope I will see you all someday. Stay strong! Avery Gray Upon finishing the letter, Avery re-read it carefully. Proud of what she had written in it. She guessed that she really did find the right words to say. All it took was a little encouragement. Once she was done proofreading, she dropped the letter into the box where it would eventally be given to the graduating students of 2025.

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

To any Seventh Year who may read this:
I see you as a transition. You are still kids, yet you are adults too. The key is to balance both worlds to create a happy life. I look up to you and see years ago you were our age. And if you can do it, so can we. I am excided to see what this generation of adults are ready to do to the world. I understand that times may be tough and you may want to give up, but I look up to you and see that you are ready for this. You have been pure kids for too long. You are ready to take on the world. I believe in you.

Lillian McMason

Today's task seemed to mirror a similar one earlier in the year when they'd all been invited to write encouraging notes to first years—a task that had seemed herculean as a first year herself. But if she'd known nothing about Hogwarts then, she certainly knew nothing about adulthood now. She knew the basics—you should eat, sleep, have a job and a house—but nothing actually useful about navigating what it meant to be away from the relative safety of school.

So, she had a simple strategy going in those doors to the small hall: to make the prettiest note possible. To say with art what she could not with words. It was probably to her benefit, considering this approach, that she knew zero seventh years in any real, tangible way. There was no one who would pick up her note and read it with deep expectation. This gave her some relief and the ability to focus on the beautification process alone.

Eagerly she collected the prettiest shades of paper she could: lilacs and subtle pinks and cornflower blues dashed with gold. Inks were in scarlet and turquoise and a black that if you blinked looked more like violet. Because she was writing for no one in particular, she feel free to put things together in unconventional ways, molding the color wheel in ways she had not thought of before. Carefully, she'd fold the edges over, making new shapes, and tearing out pieces to make something between a dollie and a snowflake with just enough space in the middle for a small note in the center: Good luck, friend. It was short and simple, and wonderfully fluid—a note for any and every student. And it was because of that beautiful anonymity, she chose not to sign it. That would ruin the way this felt like a message in a bottle rather than a personal address. And she rather liked the universality of it.

She would spend a lot of time here, perfecting about a dozen notes. Each had that same simple message, but none were the same. Some were round and some square. Some had cut out dots and others intricate shapes. Some had sharper lettering and other more smooth. Some had colors that traditionally went together and others absolutely did not, but somehow they did in her mind's eye. She even added some ribbons and rhinestones on some that she'd brought down from her dorm.

And when she was satisfied, she left them on the board and exited the room.

To the graduating seventh years, (Looking at you!)
You’ve been here awhile, (not saying you are old) you’ve seen a lot, learned a lot of probably cool spells and some not so cool spells. One day, I hope I can meet you guys, even if you will be adults. I have never met you but I sure you will be awesome adults. It must feel crazy to realize that you have been at this school for seven years. I wish you the best in the next chapter of your life.

Ellie Randensmith

banner by Pericles Dralt| interacting as Archer Duncan

Archer knew very little seventh years, but considering the amount of people he knew full stop, four seemed like a miraculous number already. Perhaps "knew" was the wrong word, but considering he could not quite claim he "knew" anyone, much less those five years his senior, he made due with that fact and decided to contribute the wall of farewells for the graduating class of 2025.

There was little he had to say, and he said it fast, writing in the same half-legible handwriting that smudged letters together, all sharp edges and little flourish:

Dear @Ruby Cazares & @Koko Riddle,

I still remember working on the article for the former EiC's graduation as if it was yesterday and yet now the two of you are facing the very same graduation. You were more than the leaders that kept the paper alive, you fostered in me a passion for journalism I never thought I would act on. I can't claim to ever have the honour of knowing the both of you well but what I am certain of is the Headliner would not be the same without you two.

I don't know what direction you wish to go into after Hogwarts, but I am certain you will do good work.

Thank you for all your contribution and guidance.

Best regards,
Archer Duncan.

Dear @Astrea Soleil Neptune & @Bridget Collins,

When I first joined the duelling team, I had no idea what I was doing. As captains, you helped me find my footing and stay steady after I did even if you were unaware. You didn't have to act for me to have looked up to and be admired by you. After spectating your duels I am certain you will continue to be skilled in this art and any other. I would have loved to have known you two better, both as duellists and as people, and I am saddened that you would be leaving Hogwarts, but I hope you find success in whichever paths you choose to pursue.

Thank you for your continuous support.

Best regards,
Archer Duncan.

Archer paused slightly, pen in hand, contemplating if he ought to write a letter addressing the entirety of the seventh years, before deciding against it and slipping the instrument into his pocket, not fully satisfied but without much else to add either. Wordlessly he tacked the two messages onto the boards, then left as if he had never been there in the first place.

date: june 15th, 2025
word count: 450 words

Magnolia only knew one Seventh-Year Hufflepuff that was graduating, @Annie Morgan. She had met her out on the grounds a month ago, and she was kind enough to help Maggie out with planting some new sprouts and flowers in an effort to revitalize the fauna of Hogwarts. And now she had to deal with her barely-made friend already leaving Hogwarts for bigger and better things.

It felt... strange, to have a new friend taken away like this. She had dealt with this kind of loss before, with friends moving away or deciding that they preferred the company of others. She was used to that kind of hurt. But to have someone outgrow the very school, to have to leave it... this was new, and a new kind of hurt.

So when she stood in the Small Hall of Hogwarts, feeling so small against the huge board of already-posted notes for the graduates, she teared up a bit. The board was a physical manifestation of this change, that students were leaving, that the year was over, that she was growing up. In a few short years, it would be her on the receiving end of these notes, and that was scary. She had just gotten here!

She had already dealt with the immeasurable change that was discovering magic and integrating it into her life. She had already dealt with spending her very first night away from her family and everything she knew. She had already dealt with the immense loneliness that came with moving so far away. And now things were changing again?! It wasn't fair. She wasn't ready. She needed more time.

And she couldn't ignore the fact that perhaps there were some Seventh Years who felt the same way, feeling small against the forever-changing way of the world. And so when she picked up a quill and a piece of purple paper, she wrote shakily.

Dear Seventh Years,

I know the world out there might seem scary. Maybe you feel like you're still like me, a kid who doesn't know anything! But you got this. If you can make it through magic school, you can make it through anything! The wind is at your back. Spread your wings and fly!

Forever Your Cheerleader,
Mags

Magnolia sniffled as she put her quill down. Keeping her tears away from the paper, she wiped them with the back of her hand. And then on the tippiest of her tippy-toes, she put her note up, stepping back quickly to regain her balance, and to admire the multicolored pages of encouragement that were scattered about the board. She hoped that her words would bring some comfort, because at the very least, they comforted her.

Thursday, June 12, 2025

English - Thoughts

WC: [463]

Small Hall

XXXEonaria didn't know what to say. The year had gone by all too quickly, and she was at a loss for words. Write a note to the graduating seventh years? She didn't even know any seventh years! And what on earth is 'valedictations?' The word sounded similar to 'valedictorian,' something she also did not know the meaning of. She just knew the word. They were probably related somehow.

XXXShe examined the array of colorful supplies, lighting up slightly at the sight of the ink and stamp pads. But Eonaria couldn't let herself get carried away! This was supposed to be a meaningful message to the graduating students, not... a birthday card. Or something. Would I cover a birthday card with stamps? Probably not. Unless it's someone I'm really close with. Actually, scratch that, I would never give my brother a card with more than three colors. Eonaria sighed, picking up one of the light blue pieces of paper. She was not about to write on something that looked like it could reflect neon light into your eyes. Now, what was she supposed to say, exactly?

XXXDearest graduates,
XXXCongratulations on your accomplishment! Seven long years is a lot of time to spend within the halls of Hogwarts, but I hope every year was enjoyable. Make sure to seize opportunities that come your way! Every endeavor comes to fruition, no matter how small. Keep working hard, and you will soon find prosperity!

XXXBest Wishes,
XXXEonaria Kabukimono

XXXEonaria regarded the words she had written on the little piece of paper. Did it sound too weird? It was absolutely advice that she was supposed to apply to herself. She was kind of failing at it. Did that make her a hypocrite? Yikes. She stuck the piece of paper on the board anyway, smoothing it down carefully and making sure it was on straight. The board was looking kind of chaotic, with bright colors plastered all over it. Someone had stuck a bright green paper right in the center.

XXXEonaria was extremely tempted to rearrange the papers into nice rows, but resisted firmly. Sometimes a little chaos looked cheerful and encouraging. She shouldn't touch other people's messages. Eonaria knew if she came back and her paper was not where she had left it, she would be pretty upset. That meant she shouldn't do it to other people. So she turned around and walked away, distinctly aware of that little piece of paper hanging on the board.

XXXThey're not going to preserve these things, right? Are they? She had written the note in a way that she hoped would both convey her meaning and also not anger her mother if she happened to read it... somehow. Hey, anything can happen. Eonaria knew she wouldn't regret leaving that note behind.

.・-: ✧☾♩♪♩♬　. 。・゜✭・.・✫゜・。.　♬♩♪♩☽✧ :-・.