Title: After the Maze
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Fleur
Prompt: 030:Death
Word Count: 638
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: spoiler for the film of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Author's Notes: the end of the GoF film was heart-wrenching even knowing all and i am so in love with Cedric right now! these are Fleur's thoughts after the maze (this story follows the film version of events, not the book)
Disclaimer:I don't own anything
Her head hurt. Everything hurt. As Dumbledore had warned, Fleur knew she was no longer the girl who had entered the maze. She never would be again. The maze hadn't just beaten her, it had tried to devour her. She couldn't quite explain what had happened, she'd barely been conscious when Harry had found her. At least she thought it was Harry. Nothing seemed certain anymore. Viktor had stunned her but she hadn't said anything yet, she simply didn't trust her memory. It seemed like Viktor but he hadn't been himself and despite his gruff exterior she simply couldn't imagine him attacking her. He was so quiet, so stoic. It didn't make sense. She looked over at his prone body off to the side of her, the Hogwarts nurse fussing over him. Karkaroff was uncharacteristically absent. Fleur pushed away the memory of Not Viktor in the dark silence of the maze and turned her attention to the crowd.
They were somewhat subdued as they waited for the two Hogwarts champions to emerge from the maze. As the time dragged on the flag waving and cheering had died down to a low murmur. The air was thick with tension. Fleur caught sight of the Weasley boy in the stands, his bright red hair stood out amidst the sea of faces. He was clearly concerned but trying to appear brave for the girls who sat beside him. Fleur recognized the girl who'd accompanied Viktor to the ball on his left and a girl who could only be his sister to his right. Both were pale with worry for their friend Harry. Fleur was worried herself, for both of the boys still in the maze. She looked down at her hands clenched tightly in her lap, her thoughts flying from Harry to Cedric and back again over and over and over again.
Harry and Cedric were remarkably similar in temperament though Fleur felt only she seemed to notice. Harry was so young but he carried himself as if he knew what it is to be a champion. He never boasted, he just had a simple confidence that most boys of his awkward age did not share (Fleur couldn't help thinking of the Weasley boy with a smile). And Cedric was a gentleman, a fierce competitor and a genuinely good person. She didn't know which she wanted to win the competition; she simply wanted one to win soon. It was cold and her head hurt and she was desperately tired and worried.
A pop sounded in the tense air and suddenly the crowd began to cheer. Fleur looked up to see Harry and Cedric had both returned. Grinning madly she jumped up and ran toward the two Hogwarts champions. It appeared that Harry was holding the cup but he was sprawled over Cedric and neither was rising to greet the crowds. Harry was clutching Cedric, his breath heaving out of him and looking as pale as his friends in the stands. Cedric was still. Fleur realized Harry was crying and she stopped dead. Harry was shaking and Cedric remained still. Fleur felt cold, she clutched at her sides, she tried to close her eyes but she couldn't look away.
Cedric was dead.
Fleur screamed longer and louder and more desperately than she had when she'd encountered Not Viktor in the maze. And then she stood staring at Cedric, tears running down her cheeks, as Dumbledore tried to pull Harry away...as Cedric's father pushed his way past and fell apart at the sight of his son...as the students swelled forward and then stopped, afraid to move, afraid to speak, just afraid. Fleur stood silent and alone. Her head hurt. Everything hurt. As Dumbledore had warned, Fleur knew she was no longer the girl who had entered the maze. She never would be again.