𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 | draco malfoy ✔️

39. the leaving feast

TRAINING WHEELS—
THE LEAVING FEAST

039

Cedric is dead.

The words replayed around Amora's head like a broken record and all she wanted to do was rip off the needle or smash it to pieces. Anything to stop seeing her cousin's lifeless eyes staring back up at her whenever she blinked for more than a second.

It had been one hour. Everybody had been sent to their common rooms. Amora didn't know where Harry was, but he was probably answering questions. Amora had a lot for him, but right now, all she could do was mourn. The wound was fresh and bitter and filled her with sickening rage.

"Amora?" Professor Buckley's eyes were red too, but she was a lot better at covering her sadness up for the sake of her daughter and her brother. "Amora, do you want to talk to me about it?"

Amora clamped her mouth shut to prevent loud sobs from belting out and she shook her head, clenching her eyes shut. More tears fell, squeezing past her wet eyelashes and making her cheeks sore.

"Come here." There was a heavy sigh and then she was pulled into her mother's arms again. "I have to go and see Uncle Amos in a few minutes. Would you like to come?"

"No," Amora sobbed, shaking her head. "I can't."

She couldn't stand to see her uncle cry. She didn't want to hear the same wails that had echoed for what felt like hours on the Quidditch pitch. Amora just wanted to bury her head into her pillow and never leave it.

Eventually, Professor Buckley had managed to calm her down through a mixture of motherly caresses and gentle words. She left Amora sitting in the comfortable teacher's seat of the Muggle Studies classroom. She kissed her forehead and promised to return with something for her to eat and drink. Not that Amora believed she could stomach it.

Amora rubbed at her eyes with her palms. They ached and felt sore from all the crying she had been doing, and even then, she still felt like she could cry for hours longer. Her heart had never ached so badly in her life; she'd never experienced this sort of loss before.

The worst part was knowing that Cedric's death was obviously a permanent thing; she could wait all she wanted for him to come back, but he never would.

Amora stumbled from her seat, reaching for the door handle and twisting it open. It was June, but the corridor felt cold. She wandered down it aimlessly, small sniffles following every corner she turned, every staircase she wandered up.

It was silent. So silent until she bumped into him.

"Amora," Leon gasped, his hands steadying her. "Amora, are you okay?"

His hair was dishevelled and he appeared paler than usual, eyes slightly red and swollen. Amora was glad that she hadn't been shoved into the Hufflepuff common room with everybody else. Watching them cry over her cousin would only make it worse.

Amora swallowed thickly. "What do you think?" Her voice broke as if her record player was scratched beyond repair.

Leon's face melted. "I know, I know. That was a stupid question, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything, Amora. I'm sorry about Cedric—"

"Don't say that," Amora cut him off, clenching her eyes shut. It made it feel so much more real.

The brunet shuffled awkwardly for a moment. He didn't know what to say, that much was obvious.

"Amora," Leon breathed, "Do you want a hug?"

"No," Amora said, Leon's face falling.

"Do you need me to walk you to the common room? I can get your mother for you, or—"