Black and Potter | H. Potter

44 ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆ the start of a journey.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧*⋆.*:･ﾟ✧.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

| THE START OF A JOURNEY |
song: you're gonna go far by noah kahan.
TW: panic attack.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧*⋆.*:･ﾟ✧.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

IT WASN'T EASY TO SEE PARENTS GRIEVING THEIR CHILD, and yet that's exactly what Ara and Harry had to witness when they had a meeting with the Diggorys. Ara, for the majority of the time, wished the ground would just swallow her whole, she hadn't known Cedric, not really, and it felt wrong to be talking about him with his parents. But Harry had seen him get killed and she'd helped him bring his body back, and as much as she didn't wish to be sitting there, Mr. and Mrs. Diggory deserved their closure.

Thankfully, they did not blame Harry nor Ara for what had happened; on the contrary, both thanked them for returning Cedric's body to them. Mr. Diggory sobbed through most of the interview. Mrs. Diggory's grief seemed to be beyond tears.

"He suffered very little then," she said when Harry had told her how Cedric had died. "And after all, Amos . . . he died just when he'd won the tournament. He must have been happy."

When they got to their feet, she looked down at Harry and Ara and said, "You both look after yourselves, now."

Harry seized the sack of gold on the bedside table.

"You take this," he muttered to her. "It should've been Cedric's, he got there first, you take it —"

But she backed away from them.

"Oh no, it's yours, dear, I couldn't . . . you keep it."

Then they left.

There was a loud silence when Ara and Harry were left alone, neither of them really knew what to say to each other. Though Ara was certain, that much like her, Harry didn't like quietness nowadays. Because with silence came thoughts, and neither of them wanted to think too much at the moment, because if they did, they would only recall the events of that night.

"How are you feeling?" Harry's voice finally broke through the stillness, his eyes still glued to the sack of gold in his hands.

"I'm. . ." Ara considered lying, but there was really no point. "I could be better. You?"

"I don't know," she heard him mumble quietly. She turned her head just as he glanced at her and saw his misty eyes. "I just—I can barely close my eyes without hearing. . ." he cut his sentence short as he closed his eyes tightly as if trying to make a memory go away.

"Hear what?" Ara questioned softly.

"Nothing, I'm sorry," Harry sniffed.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Harry," Ara insisted as she reached out to grab his hand.

"I should have done something," Harry shook his head and Ara could tell by his loud breathing that it was getting difficult to remain calm. "He t-tortured and I did nothing to—"

He was gasping now, his breaths coming out as pants.

"Harry, hey—" Ara cupped his face, making him look at her as sweat beaded on his forehead. "You need to breathe—"

"I can't—"

He shook his head as he tried to get air in his lungs but was unable to, his chest felt as if it was being crushed by some force that prevented him from breathing properly. It felt as if a vice had wrapped itself around his lungs, squeezing the air from them. The world began to blur away and the only thing he could vaguely make out was the outline of Ara's face as she held him.