Fleamont
Fleamont had been told of the old traditions his family had, he had learned them inside and out. He didnât have much of a choice considering he was the oldest and the heir. The thing was he had always dreamed about making his very own tradition. He wanted to have been the one to start one. He also wanted it to be a fun one that didnât have many rules and took a lot of planning. He wanted it to kind of be a spur of the moment kind of thing. So when he sat in his very last transfiguration class with professor Dumbledore at the front he got an idea. Pretty much the whole school knew that the head of Gryffindor house adored his students and that his little lions loved him more than any of the other teachers. So as the last class drew to an end he got up on the table, all of his friends looked at him in confusion and so did his teacher. He grinned a wide mischievous one. One he only wore after he had played an especially good prank. The ones who had seen him wear it through the years knew he was probably up to no good and those people looked at him wearely. He stood straight and looked Dumbledore in the eye as he saluted and said.
âOh captain, my captain, you will be missedâ He bowed, deep and overly formal. One hand tucked into it and the other stretched out theatrically before jumping down and making his way out of the classroom. Not without spotting the warm smile his teacher was wearing or the fact that his eyes were both suspiciously wet and containing a proud spark in them. His classmates cheered as he made his way out and then followed him outside, also saluting and bowing before leaving. Following their Head boys lead out of there. Dumbledore couldnât help but feel proud of his students. Knowing that they were ready for the world and that they would all go far.