36. The Beginning

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"If God can take a friend away from me, then I can say what I want and he won't do anything" ~ Everything's An Illusion, Mayday Parade

The days that follow the third task are days that I hardly remember, almost as if what I went through in the graveyard was too much for me to take in any more. I remember meeting with the Diggorys, and how Mr Diggory sobbed, how Mrs Diggory's grief was beyond years. 

I remember students avoiding Harry and I like the plague, clearing believing Rita Skeeter's story about us being deranged. I remember briefly wondering why Draco hadn't sought me out yet (in fact, I'm yet to speak to him, even now). I remember visiting Hagrid during our spare time. And most of all, I remember spending hours upon end with Dad, Hermione, Ron, Tay and Harry. 

Only now, the night before we're leaving Hogwarts is my mind beginning to clear up. I pack my trunk with a heavy heart; it's bad enough knowing I won't see my friends for weeks, and even worse knowing that we're not allowed to stay with Dad over the summer, for reasons Dumbledore didn't go fully into to. 

I can't help but dread the farewell feast, which has always been a cause for celebration when the winner of the inter-house cup is announced. 

When the five of us enter the Hall, the first thing we notice is that the usual decorations are missing. The Great Hall is normally decorated with the winning house's colours, but tonight, there are only black drapes hanging behind the teacher's table. An uneasy feeling emerges in my stomach; it's for Cedric, of course. 

I don't take much notice of anything else in the hall as we sit down, the room unusually quiet for a leaving feast. 

"The end," Dumbledore says, looking around at us all, "of another year."

He pauses, and his eyes fall upon the Hufflepuff table. There's are the saddest and palest faces in the room, naturally - I swallow hard and quickly look away from them, blinking furiously. 

"There is much I would like to say to you all tonight," Dumbledore continues, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here" - he gestures at the Hufflepuffs - "enjoying our Feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses to Cedric Diggory."

Everyone rises; benches scrape as we stand and raise our glasses in the air. "Cedric Diggory," we all muse, in low voices. 

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many qualities which distinguish Hufflepuff house," Dumbledore continues, as we all sit. "He was a loyal and good friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you know him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."

I raise my head and look at Harry and then Dumbledore, my throat beginning to burn. 

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

A panicked whisper sweeps across the Great Hall. 

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore says, "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."

I find myself nodding as every stares, stunned and shocked, at Dumbledore...or almost every one. Over at the Slytherin table, I see Draco muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle. I feel a hot, sick swoop of anger in my stomach and force myself to look, blinking back furious tears. 

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