Harry: *sigh* Okay, it's been a few days, I suppose now's as good a time as any to talk to Cedric's parents *walks up to them* Uh...hey.
Amos: Oh, Harry. Here to gloat about murdering my son?
Mrs. Diggory: AMOS! You know that's not true. He's not that good of a wizard.
Amos: Yeah, I know, I just wanted to try and make myself feel better.
Harry: Kind of a twisted way of doing it, but okay.
Mrs. Diggory: Harry, don't blame yourself for what happened...
Harry: Kind of hard to when I forced him to grab the Cup and to stand up to people more.
Mrs. Diggory: I'm sure you did everything you could.
Amos: Except save our boy.
Harry: Anyway, I was thinking, since I don't really need it, and you're currently suffering, and Cedric tied with me anyway, you should probably have this *holds out bag of Triwizard winnings*
Amos: What? Do you think we're so hard up for cash that we need to take money from a child?
Harry: ...I mean, you don't have to, but...
Mrs. Diggory: It's okay dear, we'll just wait for that kind, shockingly white and somewhat sparkly man to bring us our boy back.
Harry: Do you even know where he went with the body?
Amos: No idea, why?
Harry: Yeah, I expected as much.
*later*
Ron: Harry, are you feeling better yet?
Harry: Oh, sure. Just witnessed the most traumatic thing I can possibly witness less than a week ago...
Ron: But Harry, your parents died when you were only a year old.
Harry: *heavy sigh* Fine, second most traumatic thing, so I'm just fucking peachy.
Hermione: Don't worry Harry, we'll be right here if you need us.
Harry: Sorry, but I don't think either of you is a licenced psychiatrist. By the way, is it just me, or are lots of people avoiding me?
Hermione: Oh yeah, Dumbledore asked everyone to leave you alone...
Harry: Oh, that was nice of him. I wonder what's his reason for that...
Hermione: Because he's the only one allowed to continue to traumatise you.
Harry: There it is.
Ron: There are also people who think what Rita Skeeter wrote about you is true.
Harry: Are people at this school really that stupid?
Hermione: Harry, you've been here four years. Surely you know the answer to that at this point.
Harry: Yeah, I know. So, how do we want to spend our last day here?
Ron: Go to Hagrid's?
Harry: Since the plot demands it, yes.
*at Hagrid's*
Hagrid: 'ello kids. What can aye do for yeh?
Harry: *sees several suitcases packed and ready to go* Going somewhere?
Hagrid: Aye *ten seconds of silence*
Hermione: Are you going to tell us where you're going?
Hagrid: Nay.
Ron: Is it anything to do with giants?
Hagrid: Maybeh. Or maybeh I'm jus' gettin' hitched tah Madame Maxime.
Harry: Nah, Rowling wasn't that nice to you.
Hagrid: Aye kno'. Well, have fun dealing with whatever bullshit comes out of this trainwreck.
*at the end of term feast*
Harry: Wow, the halls aren't covered in the winning house's colours. Are we actually going to take Cedric's death seriously?
Dumbledore: Your attention please *a hush falls over the Hall* Voldemort *loud thundercrack* killed Cedric, now we're all fucked.
Harry: I shouldn't be surprised at this. Why am I surprised?
McGonagall: What I think Professor Dumbledore was trying to say...
Dumbledore: Is that we're fucked.
McGonagall: ...is that we shouldn't panic, and try to remember that Cedric wouldn't want us to turn on each other in such hard times. That we should help each other, and...
Dumbledore: Nope, I definitely just meant that we're all gonna fucking die. Let's eat.
McGonagall: *sighs, then mutters to herself* Just a few more years Minerva and you can retire.
Snape: I can take him out before then if you want.
McGonagall: Can you make it look like an accident?
Snape: Even better, I can make it look like a suicide.
McGonagall: Hmm...I'll consider this.
*the next day, while waiting to leave*
Harry: Well, this is it, another school year finished. I wonder how long it'll be before we start next year's adventure.
Hermione: If the release dates of the real books are anything to go by, nearly three years.
Harry: Wait, what?
Fleur: Harry, may I have a word?
Harry: *covering the front of his pants as she got closer* Uh, sure.
Fleur: *hands him a piece of paper* Here'z my number.
Harry: Oh, thanks.
Fleur: Pazz it on to Bill for me. Okay, thankz, bye *leaves*
Harry: Well, that happened *hands the paper to Ron* Here, you'll see Bill before the rest of us probably.
Krum: Harry, may I have a vord?
Harry: Are you going to give me your number to give to Hermione? Because she's right here, so...
Hermione: HARRY! Do you know how expensive international calls are?
Krum: I just vanted to say that I am saddened by Cedric's passing. He vas good, even if he vas a bit naïve, and I am sorry you had to vitness his death.
Harry: Oh, uh, thanks. I wasn't expecting...
Ron: CAN I HAVE AN AUTOGRAPH?!
Harry: *as Krum starts signing a piece of paper* Of course Ron had to ruin it.
Hermione: Isn't that the piece of paper with Fleur's number?
Ron: ...oops.
Krum: Vell, I vill be seeing you. Some of you hopefully sooner than ovvers *winks at Hermione before leaving*
Hermione: And then we hardly talk again. On to the train.
*on the train*
Harry: *looking through the Daily Prophet* Huh, there's only a very brief mention of me winning the Triwzard Tournament, and nothing at all about Cedric's death. And no articles from Rita Skeeter whatsoever. I don't know what you did to that bitch, but it worked.
Hermione: Oh Harry, all I did was this *pulls a jar out of her bag that has a beetle in it*
Ron: Is that...
Hermione: That's right, one of Rita Skeeter's specially trained beetles that she attached a mini microphone to so she could spy on everything at Hogwarts.
Ron: Oh, I thought you were going to say she was an unregistered animagus and that was her in the jar.
Hermione: Silly Ron, you still believe in magic, don't you?
Harry: Don't worry, the audience knows what's up. So, I'm guessing she's been given the ultimatum of shutting the fuck up or you go to the Ministry?
Hermione: Yep. And just to be safe, I'm keeping this for the next year in an unbreakable jar.
Draco: *entering the compartment* Oh, is that so? Well, we can't have that for our reporter friend that's been screwing with the lot of you all year, can we?
Ron: Actually, she hasn't done anything to me.
Draco: Enough talk, let's get them *drawing his wand*
Crabbe: Gah *drawing his wand*
Goyle: Duh *drawing his wand, but from the wrong end*
Harry: Furnunculus!
Ron: Puris Malusque!
Hermione: Confringo!
? 1: Locomotor Wibbly!
? 2: Mucus ad Nauseam!
Draco: What the... *five spells hit him, Crabbe and Goyle*
Fred: *arriving with George* What's up? Having fun cursing Malfoy?
Harry: Well, technically I jinxed them, but yes.
George: Cool, cool, who wants us to wrap up our blackmail storyline?
Harry: Oh yeah, there's that thing we haven't mentioned in twenty three chapters.
Fred: Yeah, well, Bagman paid us in leprechaun gold at the World Cup when we won that bet, so we sent the goblin mafia after him. Turns out he owes them a lot.
Hermione: How much does he owe them?
George: However much you're thinking, it's more than that.
Harry: You know what? That's pretty awesome. Have some money *hands them his Triwizard winnings* And before you try to refuse...
Fred: Why would we refuse?
George: This is more money than any one person could reasonably spend in a single lifetime.
Harry: Excellent. Well, does anyone have anything else to say/do before we close this book out? *no-one says anything* Okay, well, seeya.
Author's note: And...done. Four down, three (four?) to go. Thank you all so much for reading, and I can't wait to get started on Order of the Phoenix. Unfortunately, that's not looking like happening until early next year due to my other fics taking priority (though with the current world situation, I have a shitload more free time, so maybe I can speed things up? We'll see). In the meantime, feel free to enjoy my other fics, like my current one The Marauders, or the fic that will be replacing this one, Death Battle Season 2. And keep voting on my poll to decide what my next fic will be. Until next time guys...