The only sound that could be heard now was the patter of rain on the roof. The cackling fire had died out long ago and the crickets outside stopped chirping as soon as the rain began falling. That was one of the few things Oliver Wood liked about England at the moment. The rain. It always seemed to fall at the exact wrong moment, but sometimes, it would fall at the perfect time. As cliché as it sounded, the rain is exactly how Oliver felt: cold, wet, and dark.
No one had told him that Cedric Diggory had been killed. He had read it in the Daily Prophet over his morning coffee. He had never finished the coffee; as soon as he read the article Oliver had spent the rest of the morning throwing up stomach acid (and a small amount of coffee). He had never been particularly close to Diggory, in fact, they had a kind of rivalry when Oliver had gone to Hogwarts. Diggory was the hot new Quidditch Captain of Hufflepuff and Oliver was struggling to keep his Team from falling. When Diggory had caught the Snitch that night nearly two years ago, it had been raining just as it was now. Oliver had wished, prayed to someone he had never believed in, that Diggory would fall dead for winning.
And now he had.
Oliver held back a small sob and tried to focus on something other than the rain.
Percy Weasley was curled into an odd looking human ball in the love seat across from Oliver. When he had actually fallen asleep, Oliver didn't know, but he looked peaceful, his glasses askew and hair rumpled. He had a book without a visible title clutched loosely in his hands and that made Oliver smile, despite his dried tears. Percy was always Percy, even when asleep.
A thought rushed through Oliver's head and this time he could not hold back the sob.
Because of Diggory, he had Percy. Because of Diggory, Oliver knew that Percy was always Percy. Because of Diggory, Oliver was in love.
The night Oliver had wished death upon Diggory; he had tried to in fact kill himself. It was a horrible attempt, he'd admit. Standing under a freezing shower head, in rain drenched robes, trying to drown himself had seemed like a good idea at the time. He had lost. He had lost to the Pretty Boy. He had lost to the Pretty Boy and the Pretty Boy had tried to apologize to him. It truly was insulting.
He didn't know how long he had been there, but it seemed like ages. Oliver knew he would never succeed in dying this way, he kept spitting out the water when his breath ran out, but he didn't want to leave. He couldn't leave. His pride was gone. He wasn't a Gryffindor anymore he felt.
Then He had come in. Percy had walked into the Quidditch showers looking absolutely furious. He had yelled at Oliver, telling him that it was close to curfew and to stop acting like 'bloody idiot'. Then he stopped yelling, and had pulled Oliver out from under the spray and forced him to change into dry clothes. Oliver's memory had gotten blurry after that. He slightly remembered Percy walking him back up to the Dorms and forcing him to change again and go to bed. After that, he only knew what Percy had told him later. Apparently he had gotten himself sick and Percy, afraid to take him to the Hospital Wing for whatever reason, took care of him until he became better.
After that, Percy and Oliver grew closer and closer till they realized they were more than just friends.
Oliver's shoulders began shaking as he tried to hold back another sob.
If the Dementors hadn't come to that Quidditch match, Potter wouldn't have fainted. If Potter hadn't fainted, Diggory wouldn't have caught the Snitch. If Diggory hadn't caught the Snitch…
Percy's eyes twitched behind his glasses as Oliver let out another half sob.
He felt guilty. He had wished for Cedric Diggory to die. A horrible death, if he remembered correctly. Had whom ever he not believed in decided to answer his wish, in a fashionably late way? No matter how many times Percy had told him that Diggory's death was an accident, that it was no way Oliver's fault, he still felt it was.
Oliver would never be able to thank Diggory for that night.
Cedric Diggory had won, but he still lost his prize. His life.
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Not as heart-wrenchingly sad as I wanted, but I can't think of anything else. But I like it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it. I just use the characters for my own fun sometimes.
R and R, yeah?