Sadie was quite used to blending into the background. As a 3rd year Hufflepuff it wasn't difficult. Her year as a whole blended into the background as did the other years in comparison to the year above due to Harry Potter and his exploits. Indeed, Hufflepuff as a house tended to blend into the background. Gryffindor had Harry Potter and the Weasley Twins, the Slytherins had their whole semi-dark and evil thing going on whilst the Ravenclaws had their noses in a book too much to really notice anything. Sadie had witnessed the extent of this when some poor Ravenclaw had been so engrossed in a book shed seen him fall down two flights of stairs. What was this book that so fascinated this young boy? "Two thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi". Compared to the other houses Hufflepuff definitely faded into the background. They didn't even have a special characteristic, they were the miscellaneous. The ones who were gathered up at the end and dumped in a yellow corridor. They didn't even have a tower.
However, this year someone had broken the mould. Cedric Diggory had broken the Hufflepuff mode of "nice enough but nothing special" and had entered the Triwizard Tournament and excelled. So as the Hufflepuff army of yellow waited for Diggory to come out the maze they were all feeling quietly confident that for once Hufflepuff might be noticed.
That didn't happen.
Instead, after an hour of nervous waiting for Cedric and Harry, after both Fleur and Krum had failed to conquer the maze, there was a sudden flash of light. Sadie leaned forward over the stands to see bodies lying where the flash had occurred. There were gasps and nearly the entire crowd stood up trying to get a glimpse of the mayhem down below. Dumbledore and a host of adults ran out to the bodies. The smaller figure moved, tried to stand but could not and Sadie could see the mop of dark hair but the tall boy in the yellow jumper with the light brown hair had not and there was a sudden crowd realisation. Cedric wasn't moving.
Dumbledore rushed over to Harry then saw the other motionless body, paused looked at Harry and immediately pointed his wand at the body and did some sort of charm whilst the crowd screamed as a massive black dog ran over to the body and bit its leg. A small man ran out into the pitch grabbed the body, the one with the yellow jumper and there was a heart rendering cry from the small man repeating over and over again, "My boy! My boy!".
McGonagall who had followed Dumbledore suddenly looked up and saw the crowd of students staring down at the scene in shock. She walked over to the head girl, Lucy Miller, a Ravenclaw, and said something to her then amplified her voice and with only a slight tremble announced, "prefects take your house back to the dorms". With that the crowd started standing up still in shock still whispering to their friends about what was happening. It was only Ben Johnson, a seventh year who was able to get Hufflepuff back to their common room and managed to get the younger confused children into bed with some hot chocolate. However, third years and up refused to go and the Hufflepuffs waited in near silence for their champion to come through the door. It was not until 3am when Professor Sprout came in alone and revealed the news the house knew. Cedric Diggory was not coming through the door. The shining star of the miscellaneous Hufflepuff had been extinguished.
As Hufflepuff was waiting for news all hell had broken loose on the pitch. The only people left on the pitch was Dumbledore, McGonagall, Harry and Moody. For Harry, lying down on the ground, guilt crashed into him, slamming into him again and again Yet it was not the noise of the diminishing sound of Mr Diggory's wails or even Dumbledore's touch and gentle encouragement that brought Harry to his senses. It was a faint scratching inside the cup itself which he still clung onto. "Professor", he croaked.
Dumbledore immediately came away from his whispered conversation with Professor McGonagall.
"Yes Harry" he gently whispered back.
"There's something in the cup"
"Harry?"
Yet Dumbledore leant over to peer inside the cup and his eyes widened for a secong before pointing his wand at the cup. With one resounding crack the cup split and between the two halves was a small fat unconscious man.
"Pettigrew" Dumbledore's voice was the coldest Harry had ever heard. It cut through him like ice. He shot another spell and immediately incarcerated the unconscious figure.
"Minerva", he called to McGonagall, "place anti-animagus charms on the ropes to prevent him from transforming then take him to the dungeon and call for the Minister.
McGonagall hurried off and with a regretful sigh but still tenderness had been restored to his voice, Dumbledore spoke to Harry once more. "Harry, you've done everything you can for Cedric. Let him go. Harry, I need to speak to the Minister but Alastor! Take Harry to Poppy and get some calming draught. I will see you very soon Harry."
Moody gently dragged Harry to his feet and started to head back to the castle supporting the boy. Dumbledore called out to the departing figures.
"Harry! You've been so brave and done so well tonight"
They did not turn around.
The events of that terrible June evening were rapid but within ten minutes faced with the evidence of both Pettigrew and Sirius Black who had been fetched from his place at Hagrid's vegetable patch Fudge was left with no choice but to free Black and demand the arrest of Pettigrew.
Dumbledore hurried to the hospital wing but when the only occupant was the body of Cedric Diggory, he knew his suspicions had been confirmed. Rushing down to Moody's office he found the imposter about to attack Harry. The questioning that followed resulted in the summoning of Fudge when he'd just arrived back in London and an even busier night for the Ministry and of course the Prophet.
The third set of questioning to Harry was only made possible by the care of Sirius Black. Dumbledore's soul rejoiced leaving the pair knowing that both of them were finding a home together with each other.
Yet the sorrow of that short meeting between the Diggorys, Sprout and himself was what haunted Dumbledore that night. Faces of the grieving and the dead were not a new sight for Dumbledore in his capacity as head of the Order. Yet as Headmaster it was rare but had happened before. It was these faces that stayed with Dumbledore. No parent had ever understood why. Why their child had suffered why their child had died. The faces of that dreadful meeting in a Kent living room over fifty years ago with muggle parents who did not understand how their fourteen year old daughter had died in a bathroom. Watching Lady Mountstephen crumple when she heard Timothy her middle son was in a coma after a flying accident. Lord Mountstephen had nearly seemed stoic at Timothy's funeral. Three weeks later he had turned his wand on himself. Yet what kept Dumbledore awake that night was the memory of a little girl in Glasgow and the exact moment she realised her big sister wasn't coming home.
It was too late at night to ponder over the faces of the dead and the grieving. Voldemort was back and these faces would always be replaced. Yet as Dumbldore went to blow out his candle the thought of Harry was the flame that sustained even as the room descended into darkness.