CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: CEDRIC'S LAMENT
Icarus couldn't remember the last Leaving Feast he'd attended. Usually, the Hall would be decorated in the colors of whatever House won the inter-house championship, or whatever it was called.
Today, drapes of black hung behind the staff table at the top of the Hall. The students were more subdued than usual.
Icarus noticed the real Alastor Moody up at the staff table - he was very jumpy, and started everytime someone spoke to him. He didn't blame the man. Professor Karkaroff's chair was empty, but Madame Maxime had moved over to sit right next to Hagrid and they were talking quietly. Professor Snape was speaking to Professor McGonagall. He saw his father make eye contact with someone and look away, expression stony.
Icarus saw Harry watching the Professor from across the Hall and frowned slightly.
He didn't eat much, and was glad when Dumbledore rose to his feet to speak.
"The end," he said, "of another year."
He observed the students sadly.
"There is much I would like to say to you tonight. But first I must acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," He gestured towards the Hufflepuff table, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."
Icarus and Draco stood with the rest of the school, noticing out of the corner of their eye that a few Slytherins had not done the same. Pansy Parkinson huffed impatiently, tapping her foot.
"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities of Hufflepuff House. He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how he died."
He paused, surveying the Great Hall.
"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."
A whispered panic swept through the crowd. Draco and Icarus remained silent, pale, and attentive to every word that came from Dumbledore's mouth.
"The Ministry of Magic," he said, raising his voice slightly, "does not want me to tell you this. It is possible some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Voldemort has returned, or they think you too young to hear this. It is my belief, however, that the truth is preferable to lies and that any attempt to cover up how he died is merely an insult to his memory."
Icarus' face was becoming stonier. Draco grabbed his hand softly and continued to look up at Dumbledore, trying hard not to let his emotions show on his face. Icarus looked across the Hall, and met Harry's green eyes. Harry looked away first.
"There is somebody else who should be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death," said Dumbledore. "I'm talking, of course, about Harry Potter."
Icarus stopped watching the boy as almost every head swiveled to look at him.
"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort. He risked his own life to bring Cedric's body back to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."
Dumbledore raised his glass, but his eyes strayed and met Icarus'. The boy did not raise his glass, but met Dumbledore's eyes with his own. A cold fury echoed in its depths.
Dumbledore looked away.
Once everyone was sat down again, he spoke again.
"The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemort's return - such ties are more important than ever before."
Icarus watched Dumbledore look all around the room, his gaze finally settling on Viktor, who sat next to him. Viktor was pale and very frightened. He nudged him gently and the boy broke eye contact with the old wizard to smile nervously at him.
"Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore, his eyes lingering on the Slytherin table, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts open. It is my belief - and never have I wished to be so mistaken - that we are all facing dark and dangerous times ahead. Some of you have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst. Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you should choose 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."
The students flooded out of the Hall quietly that night; sad and subdued.
"Why didn't he mention anything that you did?" Draco asked irritably as they turned a corner to reach the stairs to their common room, "Why does he never mention Slytherin?"
Icarus wasn't listening. He was so deep in thought that when the heavy, scarred hand fell on his shoulder, he jumped almost a foot into the air.
Moody stepped back, arms up and eyes wide, as he observed the wand pointing directly at his chest.
A couple of the students stopped, watching the scene.
"Sorry," he growled, "I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that."
Icarus lowered his wand but he remained wary and trembling. Draco stood next to him protectively, observing Moody with narrowed eyes.
"Just wanted to say that, even though I didn't get to know you well, I think you're a very brave lad. Dumbledore was wrong not to mention anythin'."
"No," Icarus murmured, his breathing returned to normal. "We have our reasons."
Moody blinked carefully, finally lowering his hands. "Ah," he said, "I see."
Then he turned and clunked away.
"You alright?" Draco asked, frowning in concern.
"Fine," Icarus lied.