When Cedric died, I thought my world had ended. And he was only the first to die. No, I am not overly emotional. It is true that few escaped this war unscathed, without someone close to them dying, so I shall not pull the pity-card and say that my hurt was worse. And yet, at the same time, it was, for he died at the time everyone was still trying to look the other way.

The only one who could have understood was the Boy Who Lived, the Hero, Harry Potter. But he wanted nothing to do with me; guilt, shame, the end of a teenage crush. Perhaps I dwell too much on the past, and his thoughts are in the future.

There is a possibility that we could have work things out. But we didn't. And that's alright. Our Hero (shy, stuttering, awkward around girls, quick to fall into young love and even quicker to fall out) ends up with the female Weasley, with bright head hair and the possessively jealous nature. I was only trying to be polite (I'd much rather we be uncomfortable friends than uncomfortable enemies) when I offered to show Harry the diadem. But her eyes flash, and I back down. What does it matter?

People accused me of being soft. Crybaby. Weak. Selfish. Stupid, vapid, vain girl. Crying over her first love; what's the point. She'll move on. There will be others. If she if going to act this way each and every time a love ends badly, then maybe she should just stay alone!

Maybe I am all of these things (and more). But I have lost someone I loved for a battle that shouldn't even need to be fought (to a demented man with an unhealthy obsession). Don't you DARE tell me Cedric didn't matter. He will always matter, constantly tugging on my memories and mind. He was the first, and they are always close to our hearts, no matter who we end up with.

And I'll tell you a secret. Those people who whisper and point, with angry, judging eyes; most of them don't know what it's like to lose someone you love to the darkness of the world. So yes, I cry! I do cry, cry until all my tears are spent! Because he was the first to die, the first out of many. And someday in the future, things will makes sense, and my tears will not look so pathetic.

At first, I responded with sadness and depression. All I could do was cry. And that was when my true friends were revealed. You ask why I stayed by the sneak, the one who turned us in. And I answer that she stayed by me when all I could do was sob over a broken heart. She handed me tissues to dry my face, and patted my shoulders in an helpless effort of kindness when I shunned everyone else, making them turn away. I stayed by her because she was a loyal friend.

And I don't know about you, but I stay by my friends, no matter what others say.

Then I responded with anger (How did I know that Harry hadn't just murdered Cedric in cold blood? I had no one's word to take but the Headmaster's, and everyone knows he favours Harry!) I wanted to lash out, curse, jinx, hurt those who had teased and belittled me! Anger and revenge were all I could think of. I dreamed of playing a big role in the war, of striking a blow so great it felt the enemy reeling! This, of course, did not happen.

It is not my nature to stay angry. There are some, I know, who could and who will stay angry at the world. I am not one of those people. True, my anger helped me. It gave me a reason to live and stop crying. It gave me a reason to stand up and fight back. But after a while, you stop fighting.

I played my part in the war. What's done is done. Our war is over. The battle has been won. My broken heart is finally starting to heal.

Now I have a new lover (a Muggle, but I married for love, not caring whether my talent for magic was passed along or not), sweet and kind, with soft eyes and a good heart. Now I have a child just learning how to walking, and a job at the ministry, working on building better relations between Wizards and Muggles.

I wake up each morning with a smile on my face; a kiss on the cheek, a cooed baby song. Happiness and sunshine. Sometimes, it's true, a ray of sadness pieces my heart, because no one wants to have their first love murdered. I wish my years at Hogwarts had been different.

But I cannot change the past. And since I am not a hero, I shall not worry about the future. For now, all I can think about is the present.

I have moved on. And life is good.