Once Callie turned to her neighbors and Tate was left to his own company once again, he was tempted to turn his attention back to his goblet. It wasn't that the hunk of ancient iron was interesting or amusing. It was just... yeah. Looking at the tables full of happy students hurt him just a little and in a way he hadn't expected.

But he was a Gryffindor and a damned fine one, and when things were difficult, lions got to their feet and roared. Or something like that. They had pride? No, they were in a pride... Merlin, he was stalling again. Tate stood suddenly, unexpectedly, and nearly toppled that enormous goblet with the motion.

He put up a hand to quell the talking and then began to speak himself before really even waiting for complete silence. "End of term is always a bittersweet time. We have the chance to celebrate the hard work you put in this year, both by congratulating our Hufflepuff friends for their House Cup victory and our Ravenclaw brethren for their Quidditch Cup win and by remembering fondly what we've gained for our time here this year. It hasn't been an easy year, what with mysterious illnesses and the situation in Hogsmeade, but you were all pulling for each other. I would venture to say that, in spite of the houses that divide us, we recognize our unity best of all when a little adversity thrusts us together."

He was wandering from the point again, and Tate cleared his throat before continuing. "You lot are cleverer than when you started the year. Some of you know yourselves better, and some of you are just meeting your true selves for the first time. Certainly most of you are taller than when you started, and the way we feed you, I'm certain many of you are a bit wider too." He patted his own stomach, which certainly hadn't suffered during his tenure, although he attempted to practice moderation.

"It's a sad time, too, isn't it? Another year has ended, and we're all closing in on our inevitable departure from these hallowed halls. Some of you have another six years, so you may not feel it keenly yet, but those seventh years... they know what I mean. You can always come back to Hogwarts, but it will never be your home again." He took a deep breath and glanced at that folded piece of parchment next to his plate. "It's sad too for those left behind, because you know that next term, there will be faces missing from the crowd. Perhaps faces you don't even know are missing, but faces that make this place what it is today. Some students... some professors." He glanced meaningfully at Williamson and Jenkins.

"And some Headmasters. I wasn't sure I would tell you... old soldiers are better at slipping away than giving prolonged and mushy goodbyes. I promise not to be mushy, but I'm afraid I'm already prolonged. Perhaps it is my own ego that prompts me to tell you... I wouldn't leave you if I didn't have to. I've never been an educator, as I'm sure my detractors would tell you, but I've always been a champion for this school and for you students. My path leads me elsewhere - someone else requires my efforts for now - but my heart is heavy over it, and so I suppose I'll leave it rest at Hogwarts for a while."

He fell silent for a long time, staring hard at the table top as if he could glare a hole right through it, before he felt contained enough to continue. "It appears I broke my promise not to be mushy, but I seem to be breaking a lot of promises these days. Perhaps it's better for the old lion to go to pasture, and for all the students to break bread together. Let's eat."