What did I do? Sorry. But enjoy this thing that actually made me sad while writing.
October 25, 1999
- Present Day -
Rachel was constantly wrong, about a lot of things. For one, she was not the first person to ever feel the pain of lose. Second, she would eventually heal. But it didn't feel that way. Not to her. Not now.
In the dawn of war, Rachel had returned to her alma mater to fight against the very person who had taken away the love of her life. Cedric Diggory had died years ago, leaving a cocky, lovable Hufflepuff sized hole in her heart. For the last few years of her schooling, she had distractions from the pain left, right, and centre. In the midst of war she never really had time to grieve.
Of course, she never had any direct contact in battle with Lord Voldemort, but sending a few death eaters to their graves was enough. But that didn't make her feel better, instead the reminder that she had taken lives, even on a battlefield, had her waking up screaming in the middle of the night, traumatized by the memories of the past. The ghosts roaming her mind. It was like a constant stinging reminder that the pain she felt over losing Cedric, someone definitely felt about the men she'd hurt during the war. She knew she was on the right side, and those men were evil. But it still felt as though there was no coming back from ending a life.
Her best friend and roommate (until he moved in with Angelina Johnson, but that has never been truly talked about) is the only person that Rachel was really close with. Everyone else she knew was left at arms length. Never getting close enough to hurt her.
George knew what she was feeling, probably worse. He had lost the most important person in the world to him. And he'd never be the same. But he was managing. He had the legacy of the Wheezes, and he had his family. He had his fiancée and his best friend, who he was deeply worried about. He'd tried to talk to her about the clear PTSD and grief she displayed, but like a switch she would shut off whenever the conversation would start. Once she shut off, she was a robot for days, and he couldn't risk doing that too much for fear that something horrible would happen to her. He was afraid he was going to lose her to herself.
And he couldn't lose her.
You see, after the war, after feeling like nothing would ever be okay again. Rachel pounded on the door to the closed shop of the Wheezes. When George continued lying in Fred's bunk bed, she broke in. She climbed into bed with him and they stayed there for days. Leaving only to use the bathroom and eat. Then she snapped her fingers, and said, "let's get this baby back into business."
And just like that, they had a distraction to focus on instead of dealing with their pain. The difference between the two was that George would frequently talk to his siblings, and reach out to them when he needed support. Rachel was like a brick wall, and wouldn't say a word even as she wept alone in her room.
George couldn't let it go on forever, soon she'd die of a broken heart. So he did what any confused, young man would do. He ran to his mother and asked for help.
"I think that maybe I'm not the one who's going to pull her out of this, mum. I've tried but I think I'm too close to it to see what she needs."
Molly only smiled slightly, and took a day - with the help of Hermione, to head to the Wheezes and try and talk to Rachel. The store closed early on Sunday's, giving both Rachel and George the afternoon off. Ron took the entire Sunday since the mornings were slow anyway.
Rachel didn't notice at first that this was a gentle intervention, and put on a cup of tea for both of her guests. Hermione casually strolled around the shop, giving some space to Molly and Rachel.
Rachel served the tea.
"How are you doing, honey?" Molly asked, trying to sound as light as possible, not wanting Rachel to shut her out.
"I'm fine, store could use a little cleaning tonight, and I might get a head start on the inventory night for tomorrow."
Molly suspected she'd be filling her time with distractions this week. Saturday would've been Cedric's birthday. Molly thought for a moment, and decided to just go for it, and fill Rachel's head with Cedric before Molly could by shut out.
"How old would he be?" she asked. She knew the answer, but she needed to talk about Cedric. That was the root of Rachel's pain.
Rachel quickly went as stiff as a board, as her head filled with images of the boy she loved so much. The boy who took her heart and died with it still in his possession.
"What is this?" Rachel asked, standing from the table. "How dare you?"
"I just want to help you, Rachel. You're wasting away in here. We're worried about you," Molly said, "We love you and we want to help."
"Who's we? You and Hermione?" Rachel asked, Molly stayed quiet. "Did George put you up to this?" Rachel sighed. "Of course he did. Well if I'm causing this much stress maybe I should just get out of his hair then."
Rachel left the room, and climbed to her bedroom. Angrily, she threw clothes into a trunk, crying and repeating how everyone should just leave her alone. She sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets in her hands until her knuckled turned white. She had pushed Cedric out of her mind for so long, and his memory was like a dam bursting, filled her head until she was drowning in her pain.
November 16, 1993
- Fourth Year -
Rachel held her potions textbook tight against her chest, willing this git Marcus Flint to give her back her essay. He persisted in trying to get a kiss from her.
"Come on, who says Gryffindors and Syltherins have to be enemies? We can be sweethearts instead," he said, grinning.
Gross.
She rolled her eyes, and once again told him to just give it back. She didn't have time for this, it was almost dinner time and she had plans to meet her friend afterwards to play chess. Also, she just didn't particularly care to be harassed.
"I'm not giving it back until I get a kiss, love."
"Not happening," she said, shaking her head.
"Well, then I guess I'll keep this. I don't need it but I bet I could sell it to someone in your year. Last chance, love."
"Give her the parchment back, Flint," a boy said, approaching the pair. He was a Hufflepuff prefect, and absolutely stunning. She knew him as Cedric Diggory, all the girls did. He was in the year above her, so there was no way he knew who she was. She felt her cheeks heat up as Cedric came to save her homework. She could've turned into putty right then and there.
"Who's gonna make me? You? You've got no power over me, Diggory."
"No, you're right about that. Except I am a prefect, and I would hate for Snape to hear about this, I really would."
"He'd take my word, he wouldn't believe you."
"He'd believe her, top marks in his class you know. Above all the Slytherins," he said, smirking. "And he'd know you definitely didn't write that. All the words are probably spelled right."
"And if I rip it right now, burn it even. How are you going to prove it?"
Rachel saw Snape rounding the corner only a few feet away from where they were standing. He had an extra sour look on his face, the kind of face he made when he knew he'd have to discipline someone from his own house. Marcus hadn't noticed him approach yet.
"I won't have to."
"I'll take the essay, Mr Flint," Snape said, putting a hadn't on Marcus' shoulder. Snape unrolled the essay, skimming over it briefly. "You disappoint me, Mr Flint. Five points from Slytherin, and an essay on why stealing is wrong to be on my desk by the end of tomorrow."
Snape looked at Rachel and scowled, before giving her back to essay and leaving. Marcus huffed off as well.
"Thanks, I really didn't want to do that twice," she said. She wanted to ask how he knew she had top marks, but she figured he was bluffing. Good thing Marcus hadn't called it.
"No problem, Rachel. Happy to help," Cedric said, walking off.
She took a breath and began walking towards the Great hall, before stopping dead in her tracks and turning around in time to see him turning the corner, out of her sight.
He knew her name?
October 25, 1999
- Present Day -
The pain in her chest was agonizing. It was like her chest had been set on fire, while her mind filled with water and froze. The tears continued to fall, as her white knuckles began to fall numb. She was suffering. She'd never really let herself grieve over Cedric. She stuck to distractions, and numbing herself.
Turns out she couldn't stop the pain, only postpone it. And today it was coming back with interest.
Rachel heard the door open, and relaxed her hands, letting the blood flow return, making her hand tingle with pins and needles.
She looked up and saw Hermione peeking her head in. The girls used to be a lot closer than they were today. That was how it was with pretty much anyone that used to be close with Rachel. After Rachel's sixth year, aside from Fred and George, she'd pushed away everyone, and shut them out. Refusing to give anyone the power to leave her.
"He would've been 22," Rachel said, her voice no louder than a whisper. Hermione said nothing, but continued to look at Rachel. She'd never seen her look so weak. It was always hidden. Suffer in silence.
"Not to say you're wrong to miss him, and hurt over the fact that he's gone. But we've all lost people. And we've survived by dealing with it. That's all we want for you, we just want you to experience life again." Hermione sat down on the bed next to Rachel, and put a soft hand on her shoulder. Rachel genuinely couldn't remember the last time she'd been shown physical affection from anyone. She hadn't hugged anyone since Fred died. "We miss you."
"I think I miss me, too." Rachel sighed. "But I miss him, more."
February 12, 1994
- Fourth Year -
Rachel crossed paths with Cedric Diggory again, less than a week later. He was standing in front of the Great Hall, talking to a friend of his – Jon, she thought his name was. And she was passing by, trying to escape without having to make eye contact with him. She knew that if she saw his beautiful smile, or the way his grin made it up to his eyes, letting you know that everything about him was genuine. It made her sick. Made the butterflies in her tummy jump to life, like a toddler was running through and disturbing them.
"Hey, Rachel!" Cedric said, thwarting her plan. "Wait up."
She had no choice to, there was no way to pretend she didn't hear him. She turned around with a forced smile. Small talk is easy to fake, just get through it.
"You okay?" he asked, his grin fading into concern and he put a hand on her arm, immediately setting it on metaphorical fire.
"Yeah, uh, I just need air."
She ran away.
From the cutest boy in the world.
She ran.
Was she ever embarassed.
She made it to the entrance of the school, and sat on the top stair. Putting her head in her hands and trying to cry of embarrassment. When the guy you develop a crush on touches you... don't run away, maybe? A couple of deep breaths later, and someone joined her outside. Cedric had followed her out here? Why? He didn't even know her.
"You're pretty quick," he said, clearly trying to lighten the mood. She said nothing. "You want to talk about anything?"
"How'd you know my name?"
"Uh, we met last year."
She shook her head. "No, why didn't. I would've remembered that."
A blush crept onto his cheeks, and he looked away from her. Now she was really confused. "I might have asked your friends about you."
"What? Why? They never said anything."
"I kind of lie to them, and said I was just trying to learn everybody's name. They pointed out like forty people before they got to you. Funny thing is, I don't remember any of the other names. I was just anxious to get to yours." His grin was back on his face, but his cheeks still held the ghost of a blush.
"Why me?" she asked.
"Because I think you're beautiful," he said without skipping a beat.
Rachel blushed, her eyes growing wide. He chuckled when she looked away. Between the pair of them the only pattern was a 'blush and turn.' Casually, Cedric slide closer to her, so their thighs were touching, and from the corner of her eyes she saw him drumming his fingers against his knee. With a relaxed face, and natural smile she looked over at him, and tried to find an ounce of a lie in his features. When she couldn't find one, she settled for just smiling at him. He smiled back. When she thought the moment was ending, he was planning to start a new one. He moved his hand up to her neck, and ever so gently guided her closer, giving her every opportunity to move away. When she started moving with his advances, he smirked. Drawing her in for the final collide of a kiss. They both knew they were goners, right then and there.
Hogwarts was truly magical.
October 25, 1999
- Present Day -
"I can't think about it anymore, Hermione. It hurts," Rachel said. "It hurts so much."
"I know," she said, tearing up. Hermione felt pain in her chest watching Rachel breakdown. Was t weird for her to admit it was better to see her breakdown than shut down? Felt like they were having a break through. "Tell me about the day."
"Which day?"
"The day he died."
"No, no, no, no..." she kept repeating no, but Hermione stood her ground.
"You need to talk through your feelings. I have all day. Just start stalking and if you need to stop and cry, or collect your thoughts. Fine, that's absolutely fine. But I'm afraid if you wait any longer your going to permanently stunt your emotions."
"It hurts..."
It felt like Hermione was forcing razors down her throat. Felt like she was fighting against drinking a lava smoothie. If she recounted the day, after all these years. She could no longer deny he was dead. Could no longer hope that one day he'd walk through the door as if he hadn't missed a day. Could hold her and tell her everything would be fine.
June 24, 1995
- Fifth Year -
She sat crossed legged on the bleachers, on edge just as everyone else was. She was so hoping that Cedric won. She'd be so proud of him. Her boyfriend, the Triwizard Champion. Even thinking the words made her excited.
"I thought you hated the idea of the whole thing," Hermione said, eyeing her friend.
"I've come around to it," Rachel said, smiling. "He's been so proud of himself. And I've been proud of him. And I'll admit, every time he completes one of those challenges, and he's all proud and sweaty... it's pretty sexy."
"You're shameless," Hermione said, laughing.
"Maybe."
Then someone appeared back at the start of the maze. Harry came back first, he won! Rachel got ready to cheer, happy that at least Hogwarts won if not Cedric. But then she noticed something else.
"Is he knocked out?" Hermione whispered, talking about Cedric.
There was a commotion down there, and immediately Rachel was fighting and shoving her way down the the area. She hopped over the wall and made it, staring at the body of her body, lying lifeless on the grass. She heard things going o around her, but she couldn't make out details. The air around her felt thin, she couldn't breath. She felt dizzy, and confused, and upset. What was going on? What happened? It's okay, he's just petrified she kept repeating in her head. But she knew that wasn't true.
On her arms she felt two cool, firm hands. She looked and saw Professor McGonagall gently shaking her, and telling her not to look. The words, Do you hear me? Rachel, don't look! Don't look! Didn't even register with her. She kept staring at Cedric's face. His beautiful face. Frozen.
Cedric wasn't going to wake up. He died out there. The air got thinner. And her throat got tighter. But she didn't even realize she was dizzy – she just kept staring at Cedric until tears streamed down her face. But it wasn't even crying, she just hadn't blinked in so long. She couldn't stop looking at her recently deceased boyfriend.
"What's happening?" she asked, but it came out in a wheeze. And only a few seconds later, Rachel passed out, falling onto the ground like a ragdoll.
October 25, 1999
- Present Day -
After recounting every second of that day, Rachel wept for another twenty minutes before the tears finally stopped.
"I never got to say goodbye. There was so much wee were supposed to do. So much I had to say. So much left," she said. Hermione still hadn't spoken. "I was so mad at him, Hermione. For weeks I was so mad at him. I kept thinking, I knew this tournament was going to be a horrible idea. And I begged him not to enter. I begged him, but he did it. And I supported him – like a girlfriend is supposed to. And then he died. And I was mad." Rachel didn't start crying again, but her throat tightened and she felt like it could start at anytime. "How am I supposed to move on from perfection? From someone who loved me so genuinely, and selflessly? From someone who didn't break up with me but is just... gone."
"You don't move on," Hermione finally said. "He's never going to leave you. He's always going to be a part of you, you have to know that by now. I get that you feel guilty for living when he isn't, but you have to remember he wouldn't want you to waste your life. He wanted more for you than anyone. You don't move on, you don't forgive and forget. You forgive and carry on his memory, because that's all you can do. And one day, when your kids, or my kids, or George's kids... someone, asks you about your first love. You tell them. You tell them that you fell in love with a beautiful guy who was a perfect gentleman. And you tell them that you still love him, and you will always love him. But love doesn't stop because a heartbeat did."
Rachel sat unmoving during Hermione's whole speech.
"Did you rehearse that?" she asked, smiling.
Hermione laughed. "Yes I did."
For the first time in years, Rachel thought she might be okay one day. She just needed to let them in. Let her friends back in.
"I think I'd like to have a party next Sunday," Rachel said. "All of our friends and family. Let's celebrate."
"Celebrate what?" Hermione was curious, but so so so on board.
"Each other."
June 1, 1995
- Fifth Year -
"Not still mad at me, are you?" Cedric asked, sitting between his girlfriend's legs, propping his elbows on her knees and sinking back into her chest. Even, yes, she was still mad – she loved when he tucked himself close to her. She continued reading her book without answering him, letting go with one hand to get comfortable. She raised the book above his head, and set her now free palm on the grass, feeling the blades between her fingers. "C'mon, babe! Dumbledore wouldn't let anything happen."
She sighed, and closed her book with one hand, making sure to use enough pressure to let it slam with a clap. "They cancelled these games because people kept dying, you realize that?"
"I'm not going to die," Cedric said, stretching himself up to nuzzle his nose against her neck. She sighed contentedly at the softness of his hair, brushing against her sensitive neck. He laid a few gentle kisses on the skin there, before slacking back down to his original lazy posture. "Cute that you're so worried about me though."
"It's not cute," she said, rolling her eyes. She set her book down and wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing the side of her head against his. He laughed, and turned to kiss her cheek.
"I love you, always and forever."
She sighed happily. "I love you, forever and always."
