TITLE: The Last Thing
AUTHOR: Alcott
RATING: T
DISCLAIMER: JK Rowling owns everything… even the grass underneath the willow tree.
SUMMARY: Following Cedric's memorial service, Harry is comforted when he needs it the most.
SPOILERS: This story takes place near the end of "Goblet of Fire." If you've read the fourth book and seen the fourth movie, I won't be spoiling you.
The last thing Harry Potter had expected to do was break down in front of Ginny.
Yet that was exactly what happened shortly after Cedric's memorial service. When Professor Dumbledore had dismissed the students, most had gone straight to their dormitories; they were too spooked to wander the grounds, believing whatever had happened to Cedric could surely happen to them as well.
Harry didn't want to be with any of his classmates, not even Ron or Hermione. Everyone gazed at him with the same expression of sympathy and curiosity.
He had liked it better when everyone had hated him.
Eventually the others would forget the circumstances surrounding Cedric's death. But not Harry. Harry would remember everything: the lifeless flopping of Cedric's body outside the Triwizard maze… the unblinking stare of Cedric's eyes… and the young boy's last wishes:
"Take my body back."
The sun was bright, a contradiction to the sad memorial over which Dumbledore had presided. The water in the pond glistened like teardrops. Harry found a Weeping Willow tree… one that didn't look as if it might be enchanted… and slumped down beside it, his back to the castle. He could still hear Cedric's plea in his mind:
"Take my body back."
Harry shook his head, as if to knock away that voice. His eyes welled, but he blinked the pain away and distracted himself by picking a long blade of grass and splitting it into paper-thin pieces.
"Hullo."
Ginny was standing in the shade of the tree, but the sun behind her illuminated her hair like a halo of light.
She looked like an angel.
He hadn't noticed her approach, but now that she was there, he indulged himself in a long look. It was odd how she could make him feel so much better just by smiling at him.
He very nearly returned her smile, but then his mind conjured the image of her being tossed through the air like a lifeless ragdoll, and landing hard, her bones shattering on impact. If Vdoldemort could do that to Cedric, he could do it to her- or any of them- just as easily.
"You shouldn't be out here alone, Ginny," he said.
"You're out here alone," she pointed out.
There wasn't much he could say to that, and he mutely nodded when she asked if she could sit with him.
"I know you want to be alone," she said. "And I'll let you be alone, but I have to say this one thing first."
"What's that?" Never would he have anticipated her next words.
She smiled again, but this time her smile was heartbreakingly sad. "I know you're the Great Harry Potter," she said. "The One Who Lived. And I know that you somehow feel responsible for what happened to Cedric. But Harry…" She lay her hand gently against his forearm. "Harry, you couldn't save him. You're just a boy."
He shook his head, about to protest, but she shushed him, her hand traveling up to touch his hair gently, to run the warm strands between her fingers. "You're just a boy," she repeated.
Her gentle voice and soft touches melted his composure, and for the first time, Harry felt like a boy… a small, frightened boy.
He wanted his mum.
The first sob burst out of him like a long-supressed cough. He tried to hold it in, his shoulders trembling hard with the effort. For a moment, he was frozen, his mouth agape, no sound coming forth.
But Ginny quietly whispered to him, urging him to let go of the hurt raging inside him. Finally, he was too tired to fight it and simply collapsed, keening, gasping for breath between his wails.
He thought he'd never come out of the hysteria he was in, and he felt indescribable gratitude when Ginny pulled him near. When his cheek touched her shoulder, however, he felt a jab of pain as his glasses got in the way. Ginny chuckled slightly as she took off his tear-spattered glasses, folded their stems and set them aside in the grass. He would have laughed, too, had he not been so lost.
She pulled him close again, and this time he buried his face in her shoulder, his eyes closed tightly against the emotions that overwhelmed him completely. He didn't realize he was clutching her as if he was drowning. If his grip was hurting her, she didn't say a word, merely accepted his grief as if it was a gift.
Eventually, he found he couldn't cry anymore, and he fell still, hiccupping on the last of his sobs. As he quieted, he waited for Ginny to push him away, to inspect his swollen face and drippy nose and fuss over him. But she neither spoke nor loosened her tight hold.
He knew he should sit up and wipe his nose and cheeks and for heaven's sake, get himself together. But after all that had happened in the past few days, he was simply too tired to do anything beyond lie there, boneless in her arms.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
She replied, "Hush…"
After a while, he found himself getting sleepy. She seemed to sense it as well; she began to jiggle him from side to side, as if she was trying to coerce a baby into falling asleep.
Her ministrations were working like a charm. Now he couldn't open his eyes, even if he'd had the strength to do so. "Ginny…'M so tired…"
"I know," she whispered. "We should go back to the castle, so you can rest."
He thought of his classmates, and how they had watched him carefully during Cedric's memorial, waiting for him to break down. Now that his eyes were undoubtedly bloodshot and his nose red and his cheeks flushed, he really didn't want to feel their curious eyes upon him again. He shook his head. "I'd like to just stay here."
Insecurity crept into Ginny's voice. "Do you want me to leave you alone, Harry?"
He thought about it. He knew that so much of his journey- both behind and before him- was meant to be fought alone. For both their sakes, he should have said yes.
"No," he whispered. "Please… will you just sit with me for a bit?"
He couldn't see the wide smile that broke over Ginny's face, but he did feel the gentle kiss she left on his temple.
"As long as you'd like," she whispered. "Sleep now, Harry. I'm right here."
He nodded wearily and allowed himself to drift away.
