Here we are, one year, ten months, 560 pages, and 113,903 words later. All worldy things must come to an end at some point or another. This is the end of the end of my first fanfiction. Thank you all so much for sticking with me until the end! I honestly don't know how I could thank you enough. I've had so much fun with this story and read everything you have ever sent me.

You may be asking why it took me so long to update this last chapter. Firstly, I didn't want to end the story. Secondly, the computer that had "The Teachers' Notebook" saved onto it crashed and now refuses to turn on. In order to end the way I wanted to, I needed all the chapters compiled into one place and it took me a while to do.

One more request and I'll be done. Please, leave me a final review on this story.

Thank you so, so much!


One Hundred Seven - Final

Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was exhausted. Two days, just two days, before end of the year exams would start. However, forty eight hours seemed far too long. As always happened near the end of the year, students became rather antsy. Surveying her class full of fourth years, McGonagall caught several students passing notes, napping, or doing anything but studying.

Deciding an example needed to be made, Professor McGonagall rose from her seat and walked over to a student particularly involved in his drawing. "Mr. Levi, is this what you call studying?"

"No, Professor," the boy said after a moment, realizing there was no escape.

McGonagall held out her hand. The boy grudgingly handed the paper over, his face beginning to turn red. The teacher went back to her desk and tossed the drawing of a tree with hearts and initials carved in it to the side. She was pleased to see that the rest of her students took the hint and their desire to look at their notes was revived.

Movement in the corner of McGonagall's eye caught her attention. She looked at the drawing she had taken. It had begun to morph. Lines turned to letters, all varying in style until words clearly formed. McGonagall cleared her throat to keep from choking as she looked more closely at the writing; it was familiar.

"Professor," one of the fourth years said bravely, "can we go now?"

McGonagall looked at her watch. "Yes, you may go. Let it be known that I'll have no pity on any of you if you're not satisfied with the grade you get on your exam," she said loudly as the students hurried to get out of the room.

The professor waited until the last student had left before grabbing the confiscated paper eagerly.


Well, hello, Professor McGonagall!

Hey! Look! It worked! …Did it? We only ever tried it up to an hour… five years is considerably longer…

One hour… five years. Eh.

It's (hopefully) been a while. Perhaps we should point out who is who?

Indeed we shall! In case you have forgotten my marvelous penmanship after all the lines I had to write for you, Professor, I am James Potter, also known as Prongs by my closest of friends.

I am Padfoot, sometimes known as Sirius.

I'd be highly offended if you forgot my writing, Professor. However, for sake of keeping you from offending someone aloud, I am Remus Lupin.

No you're not! You're Moony!

Yes, I am frequently called that.

Peter Pettigrew here! I go by Wormtail, though I could never quite figure out why…

Are you serious, Pete? We've told you at least fifty times.

Oy! Where's the Mrs.?

I'm not a missus quite yet, Sirius.

Lily! I thought you wouldn't be joining us?

Who told you that?

-whistling-

Sirius!

Anyway! At this point, Professor, you may be wondering why we have written this.

Actually, right now, we're writing it…

Technicality. No one cares about those.

Back to the point, Padfoot!

Point! Right! Well, by now it has hopefully been five years since our graduation.

Oh, I'd hate it if it were sooner… Can you imagine if this shows up after an hour?

Let's not imagine such a terrible scene, shall we?

Back to the point! We thought that now might be a safe time to confess to a few things.

Shocking, isn't it? They still have things to own up to.

You do too, Prongset, hush your mouth!

I hate it when you call me that…

Shouldn't have called Remus 'Moony', then, should you have?

And what do I have to own up to?

Think about our last day in the castle, Lily. What did we just do a few minutes ago?

Oh! That's right. Perhaps I should confess to that a little bit later?

No! We're saying that one last.

Ok, let's move on. We're probably making her nervous. Have we made you nervous yet, Professor?

Come on, Lily. You first.

Why do I have to go first?

Because we'll take longer!

Fine!

Professor, if you wouldn't mind informing Professor Sprout that it was I that charmed her door to sing "Never Gonna Give You Up" every time it opened and closed, that'd be great. I would hate for James to continue to get credit for my brilliance. Please also inform her that I am not now, and never have been, pregnant.

Great job, Potter!

Heaven's sake, Sirius! I'm not married to James yet!

Eh. Close enough. Moving on!

Where should we start?

Let's talk about the Christmas party, second year.

A great idea, Mr. Moony! Professor, do you remember that one staff party when you dueled the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? We may have 'accidentally' snuck into that… Snuck? Sneak? Sneaked? Sneakily?

What?

Don't have a heart attack yet! The fun's only beginning!

What next, Remus?

The Stash.

Very good idea, Moony! Professor, do you remember when Madame Hooch lost her Quidditch gloves?

Or when Professor Sprout's hat mysteriously disappeared?

Or when your secret Ginger Newt stash disappeared along with Slughorn's Crystalized Pineapple stash you'd hidden with it?

This may have gone unnoticed, but a pair of Dumbledore's socks just went 'poof' one day…

Or maybe you remember the time when Professor Slughorn's "special concoction" vanished before you and Professor Sprout could steal it away from him?

All that stuff can be found up in our dorm. We were on the seventh floor. There's a bit of wall, 23 bricks up and 11 bricks to the left on the west side of the room, that kind of turns into a cabinet. Open that up and feel free to return any of the contents within! Also, if you were ever curious as to what we were writing about during classes, several pages of notes are there, as well.

What else should we confess to? We're on a roll, here!

How about the secret passage ways?

Brilliant! Floating around somewhere among the number of confiscated items in Flich's office is a map we spent many years making.

Peeves helped.

Anyway, this map revealed to us everyone's location in the castle and, conveniently, every secret passageway in the school, including the ones out of it.

We may have gone to Hogsmeade a few more times than all the other students…

What else?

James managed to blow up Umbridge's diary before we got the chance to get anything good out of it.

That was an ACCIDENT!

You pointed your wand at the thing and said "Incendio!"

I was aiming for your Transfiguration essay.

Bull.

Speaking of Umbridge, I lied in third year. James, Sirius, and Peter were with me when Umbridge came to visit.

Anything else?

I dunno… I think it might be time to move onto the big one.

Brace yourself, Professor.

Shall I say this one?

Be my guest!

You started the whole thing.

Go ahead, James!

Do you remember, when we were in first year, when one of your notebooks disappeared?

And then reappeared in my desk weeks later?

Lily, my turn to talk!

Anyway… we had always heard the tale of 'The Teachers' Notebook' and I saw you writing in the same notebook quite frequently. I borrowed it for an indefinite amount of time without permission. We copied and returned it. For the next year we desperately tried to figure out how to open it. Finally, halfway through second year, we figured out your password.

Have you any idea where this is going Professor?

Are you chasing us down yet?

So we opened the Notebook in third year, and ever since then have been reading it faithfully. This is how we always knew more than you thought, how we found out about the Order, how we got prank inspirations…

Everything.

If you're going to kill us, we'd appreciate a few minutes' warning.

On the bright side, if you open your top left desk drawer, you should find the Notebook we 'borrowed.'

If the charms we placed worked correctly.

Now, Professor, when we see you at the next Order of the Phoenix meeting, we'll be happy to talk to you about this!

Meaning we'll be thrilled to let you yell at us until you go hoarse.

Maybe the Order's not needed anymore!

Then what am I supposed to do with myself? Professor, did I take down Trixie? Oh, I hope I bring her down.

Let's invite Trixie to the wedding! What do you say, Lily?

If you do invite her, be sure to tell her it starts three hours later than it actually does. That way we can get through the actual ceremony and at least start the reception before she and her "friends" show up.

You kidding? They can be our entertainment! Have I called dibs on Best Man today yet?

Yes, you did, Sirius. You woke us all up to tell us so. Don't you remember?

Ah, that was a great moment of mine.

Where did you even get that horn from?

I never reveal my suppliers!

Frank got it for you, didn't he?

Maybe.

What about godfather? Have I called dibs on that yet today?

Yes, you did. You woke ME up to tell me so!

That was an even greater moment of mine. P.S. I'm with James. James Jr. sounds like a great name! I would prefer Sirius Jr., actually. But that can be your second born's name.

I've told you both to leave it alone for now! Besides, I'll be the mother. I'll choose the name. And I like Harry.

James is a stronger name.

I'll have no godson of mine being called Harry!

Oh, look! Here you come, Professor!

Oh, who knew we weren't supposed to be passing notes? I wasn't aware that this was a review day!

Professor, you've cut the joy of reading this note down. For now it is time for us to say farewell.

Or maybe not! Maybe we'll see you in a few hours!

But for the time being, goodbye!

So long, fare well!

Bye-bye, Professor!

We'll be seeing you, someday!

I hope we haven't driven you too far up the wall! Good bye, Professor!


Professor McGonagall was not sure how long she stared at the paper or how many times she read it over. How ironic the whole thing was.

For years she had suspected all the things her most troublesome students had confessed to, even the Notebook. While the confirmation was disturbing, it was also rather amusing. McGonagall opened her top left drawer to discover not one, but two copies of her Notebook. The professor allowed herself to smile at their cleverness. They had stolen her Notebook and kept it hidden fairly well for seven years. It was really quite impressive.

McGonagall slammed her fist down on her desk and looked up at the ceiling. Dumbledore! He had known! Of course he had known, tricky old man that he was. He'd always given the boys that piercing "I know what you're thinking" look whenever they were in trouble. McGonagall made a mental note to bug the Headmaster later.

Quite suddenly, McGonagall's mood changed drastically as she thought of just how much irony was in the single sheet of paper she held.

Sirius had been dubbed James' Best Man. Lily had won the name battle, and Harry James Potter had become Sirius' godson. The Order of the Phoenix was no longer necessary. However, that was only because James and Lily were dead. Sirius had betrayed them and then killed poor Peter himself. No one knew where Remus had gone; he had simply disappeared after the funerals. On occasion he would send Dumbledore a letter letting the Headmaster know he was still alive.

Harry Potter, the son of one of the brightest students and one of the most challenging students ever to pass through Hogwarts, had survived the killing curse when he was only a baby. This boy, who would have been pampered and loved more than could be understood, had been sent off to live with his aunt who would no doubt hate him. He would not ever get the love and attention he should have.

Professor McGonagall had never been one for crying. Tears were silly and useless; they accomplished nothing. However, as she read the note left to her one last time, she felt a string in her eyes and something run down her face.

Quickly, before she could change her mind, McGonagall held the paper over her lit candle and watched it burn. Dwelling on the past would not help. The note would only ever remind her of her once beloved students that were all dead or gone.

"Sirius, I hope you burn, just like this paper you wrote on," McGonagall said with a mixture of disappointment and venom. In a much sadder and subdued voice she added, "Good bye Remus, Peter, Lily, and James."

The candle went out as a slight gust of wind came in from the window, blowing the ashes of the note all over Professor McGonagall's paper ridden desk, leaving a cold, dark, and lonely feeling about the classroom.