Okay, so perhaps the name was a little too up beat for the topic. But calling it a Memorial had the potential to remove the right of attendees to catch up, have any laughs over lost comrades, and so on. At least in their minds. Hermione, acknowledging this, couldn't be as upset as she wanted to. Thirty-two years since the battle, people still recognized the importance of that day. It hadn't been the end, exactly, but it was certainly a step in the right direction.
That is, aside from Harry disappearing twenty years back. Twenty and a half, to be exact.
Merlin's sake.
Hermione sighed under her breath, unimpressed with the fancy gowns and suits that the people around her wore. Ron, of course, was no better off - though he was undoubtedly a little curious about who they'd run into and the sorts of speeches and food that would fill the room. Hogwarts graduates and even a number from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were in attendance, and Hermione hoped they would all understand the real purpose of the vent.
As part of her duties at the Ministry, Hermione had ensured that tickets were sold - reasonably, of course - and that the funds from those sales would go directly to the safety of magical transportation and the students of Hogwarts. After the Ilvermorny catastrophe, her department had gone through almost literal hell and parents were still in a fuss. What in the world would happen come the end of term? Hopefully nothing at all.
As if he'd heard her thinking about it, the Headmaster of Hogwarts strode through the door to the ballroom, looking about for someone he knew, presumably. If nothing else, perhaps she could talk to him about plans for the end of the school year.
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