*~*~*~*~*~*~*Ode to Cedric*~*~*~*~*~*~*
NOTE: Sorry to anyone who tried to read this the first time when the html got messed up. Fanfiction.net just didn't like my computer. Anyway, now it should be fixed.
A/N: This is not my first fanfic but its more like the first I've typed (go me!). This fic concerns Cedric's death, each of several characters expressing their thoughts & emotions on the subject. I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, or any of the characters from the books. These belong to the ingenious J.K. Rowling and her publishers. Enjoy!
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Albus Dumbledore's voice rose above the shocked crowd in the Great Hall, seeming to reach the heavens: "...Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."
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Cho Chang was sitting at the Ravenlcaw table, leaning on Padma Patil for support. The tears of grief that had been building up inside of her for the last week had finally let go and were streaming down her face. Her head was spinning, her emotions pouring into her shining tears.
Cedric... dead... gone... I'll never see him again... no, it can't be true, this must be a nightmare... but this is not some story, this is real and it is really happening... to me. Oh Cedric, why, why, why?!?!? Why did you have to leave me?!?!? You never hurt anyone, why did you have to die?!?!?
She wanted to scream out to the bewitched stars above, and let them share in her agony. She felt lost... lost.
Padma tightened her hold around her friend as tears streaked her own face...
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Hermione Granger was sitting silently at the Gryffindor table. She still had not really been able to grasp the fact the Cedric, a fellow Hogwarts student, was gone forever. Yes, of course she had read all about death and the emotions others feel involved, but never had she experienced the loss of one so close. This must just be some nightmare, she had told herself when the news first reached her ears. This can't happen to me, it just can't! But in the days that followed, she realized that Cedric's death was all too real.
As she sat at the table she silently mourned at the loss of a good person: even though he was the competitor, even though he was the "enemy". But when its good versus evil, it doesn't matter what house you're in or how many points you win or lose or whether you win a Quidditch match or not. Voldemort is evil, and all Hogwarts must unite against him. Even though she never really knew him, she knew Cedric's death meant so much and wished he could have lived. But she knew the war against Voldemort had begun once again and many more would loose their lives before it was through. A lone tear streaked down her face.
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Ron Weasley remembered the days when he was little, the days of terror when You-Know-Who reigned. It was only brief memories, images that had caught his attention when he was young. The fires, screams, burning, running, blood, darkness, fear. The evacuation of their former home near London when You-Know-Who killed the neighbors. Mr. Weasley, coming home red-eyed and leaving before the sun came up. All these memories were burned into his mind through You-Know-Who's evil. In a sudden flashback while Dumbledore was talking they all came back to him, most of all the fear. What had Harry said of Trelawney's true prediction: "...he will be greater and more powerful than ever before." Poor Cedric's death was the fore-runner to all these horrors, what would be next? Ron began to feel as his Divination teacher always did, and only saw horror and suffering in the future.
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"Not again, not again," muttered a stressed Neville Longbottom. He knew of all the pain and suffering You-Know-Who had caused, and hated it all. He had killed so many people, including Harry's parents, and now Cedric. Why?! What had caused You-Know-Who so much pain that he took it out on the rest of the world, destroying families. Neville sniffed back tears as he thought of his own parents, in St. Mungo's Hospital. What did You-Know-Who have against all these people? Why did he and his followers have to do this? How many more would die before he finally fell. And then what? What would happen to the families like his own that fell apart. And what of all the brave wizards and witches that would risk their lives rather than go to You-Know-Who's side. Life is precious, he realized suddenly. We must never take it for granted.
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Justin Finch-Fletchley sat at the Hufflepuff table, his eyes red and sore from so many tears. He did not believe that guys weren't allowed to cry and had let his emotions flow. Cedric Diggory... his great friend, classmate, and role model, was gone, dead, never to be seen again. Never again would Hufflepuff win a victory by Cedric, and then have their seeker claim it was a mistake. Or would Justin be able to cheer on Cedric on as he fought a dragon single handed. Never again would they joke together until the dawn in the common room, or compare notes. Cedric was gone, and had lost his life as he had lived it- brave, loyal, and true. Another victim of the evil Dark Lord who had done nothing wrong, had lost his life.
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Draco Malfoy sat smirking at the Slytherin table all through Dumbledore's speech. Although he attempted to maintain an untroubled, bored look, inside he had begun to worry. Naturally, he had heard from his father the details of Diggory's death. Not that he would have cared if Diggory had been a Muggle, but Diggory came from a wizarding family, with blood as pure as his own. Draco had not believed that the Dark Lord would just kill a pure-blooded wizard with no real gain from doing it. But that is exactly what he had done. Had his father known this all along? Was that why he was so nervous and afraid when his dark mark on his arm began to burn black? Would Voldemort kill his Death Eaters in an instant? Was his own father in danger? Draco shuddered at the thought and tried to convince himself that it would never happen to him...
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Viktor Krum sat with the Slytherins who all seemed smug and content, not seeming to care what the headmaster was saying. How could they do this? Someone had died! Someone they all had known and cheered for (even if they would have prefered Warrington) had been killed and they just SIT THERE!?!? What is wrong them? Krum glanced at the Gryffindor table, and seeing a tear run down Hermione's face, he didn't feel jealous but was glad some people in Hogwarts showed some emotion. Krum sat back and closed his eyes, wishing he could let his emotions go as easy as Hermione. But he had been trained differently- it was weak to cry. But then again, Cedric deserved some tears for what he had done. He had lost his life against the evil Voldemort. Anger began to course through Krum. He was one of the few students in the Hall old enough to remember the evil works of Voldemort. Viktor had been only five when Voldemort fell, but the details of torture stood vivid in his mind. Even in Bulgaria, the effects had been horrible.
Voldemort had befriended many Bulgarians and Death Eaters roamed the streets day and night. It was suicide to resist them. A five year old Viktor had watched in horror as many protestors had been tortuned and died, screaming in agony. The light at the end of the tunnel came when one-year-old Harry Potter became 'the boy who lived'. Voldemort disappeared and Bulgaria became free of his iron grip. Millions rejoiced in the Death Eater-free streets.
But it seemed Viktor would be the bearer of bad news back to his country: Voldemort had returned!
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Fleur Delacour sat with the Ravenclaws. She hugged Gabrielle at her side and glanced at some of the others at the table with tears running like rivers down their cheeks. Cedric had been such a good person, why did he have to loose his life? He didn't deserve it! She remembered what her mother had told her: "It vuz 'orrible. Death 'n' fear everywhere. Merciless killings o' the innocent. Nowhere to 'ide. Ten dere vuz light. The little boy, 'Arry Potter, lived. Ve vere free from the 'orrors of You-Know-'o." Fleur stared back up at Dumbledore. She had paid little heed to her mother's words, until now. So this was what she had meant. The tears began to drop like small crystals from her eyes. And yet there would be more. Every instinct Fleur had telling her this: This was just the begining.
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Professor Albus Dumbledore sat down with a sigh. Why did Voldemort always have to murder the innocent! He thought back to the last time a student of Hogwarts was killed while still in school; it was Myrtle, killed by none other than Voldemort himself! Dumbledore felt old, older than time itself. "And thus the battle rages on," he muttered to himself, knowing that this time the battle would be even harder to win.
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Mr. Amos Diggory was silent on the trip home. He held his wife close. Their son... for whom he had planned so much... had left this world. He almost screamed in anger, anger at whatever God had let this happen to his son. What had he done wrong? Nothing!!!! He didn't deserve to die. He should have taken my life. Cedric was innocent. Why had I let him join that Triwizard Tournament, what was I thinking?!? What is happening to my life!?! He held his wife close and tried to hold in his tears and they moved slowly closer to a home... now silent with a missing member.
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Harry Potter sat aloof from his friends. Memories of that evil night of murder and resurection kept flooding back into his mind. Cedric; Voldemort; Death Eaters; the shadows of his parents, Cedric and the others; Wormtail; Crouch. Every thing was jumbled in his head and he just wanted to sleep and wake up from the nightmare. But he knew that it could not be- the nightmare was just beginning. As he sat there, oblivious to the laughter beside him, he silently vowed to himself that he would fight, always fight and never give in, to Voldemort. Maybe one day the world would be free forever. But until then, he vowed never to give in because it was the easy way out, and to always to fight for what was right. For my parents, he thought to himself, for Cedric.
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I'll leave you with this last thought, a poem written by a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital. I received it in a forward many months ago and saved it to put with this fic. It reminds all how lucky we are just to be alive. Never take it for granted!!!!!!
SLOW DANCE
Have you ever watched kids
On a merry-go-round?
Or listened to the rain
Slapping on the ground?
Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?
You better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
Do you run through each day
On the fly?
When you ask "How are you?"
Do you hear the reply?
When the day is done
Do you lie in your bed
With the next hundred chores
Running through your head?
You'd better slow down
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
Ever told your child,
We'll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste,
Not see his sorrow?
Ever lost touch,
Let a good friendship die
Cause you never had time
To call and say "Hi"?
You'd better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
When you run so fast to get somewhere
You miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day,
Thrown away.
Life is not a race.
Do take it slower
Hear the music
Before the song is over.
