Magic (5sos/l.h. Hogwarts AU)

Chapter 75

~A/N~ I've been absolutely swamped with work, but the good news is I've had two Uni offers and an interview already!
Enjoy the chapter!
Leila xx

Have you ever had a safe place, a place where you thought nothing could ever go wrong? A place where you wouldn't mind being in your darkest moments, almost a second home? A place you thought you could never be harmed, because everything would always turn out right in the end?

Have you ever had that place ripped away from you?

None of us knew Diggory well, and there was nothing I regretted more. A poor, innocent life had been taken, and I didn't know him. He still had so much to do, so many places to visit and people to meet, but now he never could. His whole life had been ahead of him - he would grow up, get a job, marry and have children that would love him and bring him so much happiness - but everything had changed and now, all that was ahead of him was a bleak void of nothing.

Throughout everything, all I could think was perhaps I would've met him. Perhaps after the Tournament I would've congratulated him, and we would've talked until a friendship blossomed, just like it had with Noemie. Perhaps we would have run into each other in the same career in a few years, and got talking again until it lasted. Perhaps he and I would have had monthly catch-up sessions over tea and cake, reminiscing over the good old Hogwarts day.

But it wasn't reality - reality was cold, and hard.

The whole school was in a state of mourning. Harry said Voldemort was back, and I believed him unlike many others. But there was nothing we could do, so we had to continue on as normal.

Every evening in the common room was spent curled up with Luke in an armchair, as usual, watching the others perform silly dances in front of the fire or helping Fred and George with their Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, a business still up and running despite everything.

Due to a bizarre turn of events that left my blood cold, we now had no Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher so that lesson was substituted for a free period during which we would visit Hagrid. One particularly hot Summer's morning, we were lounging around in the stifling hut when Michael brought up a subject we hadn't yet broached.

What happened to Moody was a touchy topic for both students and teachers alike, so it was a surprise when Michael mentioned it, but no one shut him down.

"How d'you think Dumbledore didn't know it wasn't the real Moody teaching us?" he asked. "I mean, that Death Eater was taking Polyjuice Potion, which doesn't alter how you behave. Dumbledore's known Moody for years, he knows what he's like, how did he not tell?"

"We can't blame Dumbledore," Hagrid said. "Good man, 'e is, but we all make mistakes. Moody's known for being undefeatable, no one would'a thought 'e'd be kidnapped. An' on top o' that, he's been going mad for years. There's no sayin' how he's going ter act. Completely unpredictable."

That closed the conversation quite quickly, and we found ourselves traipsing back to the castle all too soon. The boys announced they were going to the common room but I had another errand to run, so hurried away to the second-floor bathroom where I knew a certain ghost would be awaiting my arrival.

"Ooh, hello Leila!" Myrtle giggled when she saw me. "Back to touch up your concealer?"

I grinned ruefully as I rooted through my bag for the tube of makeup, and peered in one of the mirrors to apply it underneath my eyes. It wasn't vanity that prompted me to do this, though I believed in self-love more than vanity, but a desire to cover the every-growing bags under my eyes that became more prominent with each passing day.

"You know, you should really get more sleep," the ghost added, floating behind me as I dabbed the concealer in with my finger. "Those dark circles aren't getting any smaller."

"I know," I said. "It's just because of all this stuff with Cedric, and Mad Eye Moody, and we still haven't caught Rita Skeeter. Plus, I'm not loving the Slytherins quoting her article about me every time we pass them in the corridors."

"Things will get better," Myrtle promised. "Term ends in a couple of days anyway and then it'll be a new year, with all of this behind us."

"Hopefully."

***
"SNAP!" A bang followed the cry and Noemie squealed, still not used to the noise.

"Zis eez so scary!" she laughed, putting a hand over her heart and I giggled. "Why are you making me do zis?"

"Don't hate the player, hate the game," Michael held his hands up, only to slide them around Ginny as she leaned on her shoulder. "We thought you should have a taste of true English magic before you leave."

"I am going to miss all of you," the French girl sighed wistfully, taking in the sight for one of her final times. I was sprawled over Luke's lap on one of the armchairs, while Ginny and Michael were smushed on the sofa with Fred and George. Ashton lay on a fluffy cherry rug in front of the fire, and though Calum wasn't in sight I knew she could almost envision him dancing around the common room.

"We'll miss you, too!" I said. "You have to come and visit sometime!"

"And write to us," added Ginny.

"Make sure you don't forget us," Luke said, and Noemie shook her head.

"You 'ave been so good to me. I could never forget you!"

Seeing Noemie off was more difficult than I had perceived, for though I was glad to see the year come to an end, tears pricked my eyes as the powder blue chariot disappeared as a dot on the horizon.

Even waving goodbye to the Durmstrangs was emotional, despite the fact that I hadn't connected with any of them, because it marked the end of all the special bonds that had been formed. Promises to write and visit meant nothing, the vision of the future shaky, but there was nothing to do except deal with it.

Somehow, Calum was absent during the whole ordeal and it was fair to say we were relatively annoyed with him as we trudged back to Gryffindor Tower, still in a broken mood from bidding farewell to our new friends. Ready to berate him, I stumbled into the common room only to find the boy ecstatic, hopping around the room with a jar in his hands.

"Leila, we did it!" he squealed. "We got her! She's here!"

"Rita Skeeter?!" I asked excitedly, and he nodded in confirmation. "Finally!"

"She was on the window sill in the hospital wing, it's so lucky I was there!"

"She won't be hurting anyone any more."

"What should we do with her?" Calum asked, and I frowned until it dawned on me.

"We have leverage now. She has to keep her quill to herself, otherwise we'll let the cat out of the bag, or should I say beetle out of the jar."

I winked at the fat beetle in its glass prison, and Calum chuckled. "Good idea. Let's let her out when we get back to London."

***
And so, in a packed compartment with all my friends and two incessantly hooting owls, with invitations to stay in the holidays and promises to write hanging in the air, we sped back through the countryside in a scarlet train to signify the end of a busy, emotional year.