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He had never liked the cacophony of noise which always went hand in hand with the end of the term feast. But that day, noise wasn't pounding in his ears. Silence was.
The crowd had broken into cheers of applause. But Ophiuchus had been standing still. His eyes had been fixed at the sight before him, Harry clutching Cedric tightly, unaware of the surroundings. Something had been off from very the moment they had arrived.
"He's dead!" "He's dead!" "Cedric Diggory! Dead!" the people in the ground below had started screaming.
Panic had risen in the crowd. Confused glances had been exchanged all over it.
"He'll need to go to the hospital wing!" Fudge had been saying loudly. "He's ill, he's injured – Dumbledore, Diggory's parents, they're here, they're in the stands..."
"I'll take Harry, Dumbledore, I'll take him -"
Ophiuchus had seen Cedric's father running towards them.
Girls were screaming, sobbing hysterically. Normally he would've made some remark about how melodramatic they were, but at that moment he had been quite. He had seen Professor Moody take Harry away from the others. It had been slightly suspicious, but he had decided not to question anything . The sky had fallen.
Ophiuchus Black was painfully familiar with silence. So much so that he was hardly ever bothered by it. But this silence was different. It almost outweighed the weight of the world. That day was the day they were all mourning Cedric. Ophiuchus didn't know why his death bothered him so much. He didn't even know the Hufflepuff.
On a second thought, he knew exactly why it bothered him so much. It wasn't the death that gave him cold feet, it was the cause. Cedric Diggory, had been murdered by Voldemort. Voldemort was back.
"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house," Dumbledore continued. "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."
As Dumbledore went on with his speech, Ophiuchus was met with an intense urge to get up and walk out of the Great Hall. But he didn't. He just stayed and listened. He, as a matter of fact, knew that everything was about to change.
"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."
A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.
"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."
Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned toward Dumbledore now... or almost every face. Over at the Slytherin table Ophiuchus saw Draco muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle. He shook his head, and turned back at Dumbledore. He did not have it in him to make snarky remarks at the moment. Not even to himself.
"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedrics death," Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."
A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Harry's direction before flicking back to face Dumbledore.
"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."
Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. Ophiuchus too murmured his name, as he had murmured Cedric's, and drank to him. It was nothing much but the environment in the Great Hall was taking a toll on him for some reason.
The time to leave Hogwarts for the holidays finally arrived. For the very first time in his entire life, Ophiuchus didn't want to leave. He didn't want to return for the holidays. But that was not even an option, so he stared out of his dormitory window. Everything outside was uneasily serene. Uneasily Still. This was the calm before the storm.
