A/N If you enjoy listening to music, I enjoyed listening to "Lupine" by Luchs while I was writing this chapter.

It seemed the Hufflepuff students hadn't strictly abided by the common room lock down orders, for what they had put together overnight was a major undertaking.

The enormous Hufflepuff banner from the Great Hall now hung in the Entrance Hall, left of the marble staircase and adjacent to the corridor that would lead down to their common room. Its length was draped over desks taken from a nearby classroom and pushed against the wall, yards of excess fabric bundled up underneath. A framed photograph of Cedric took centre place, his image smiling cheerfully, a little embarrassed by all the fuss and attention he was getting.

Surrounding the photograph was an assortment of yellow and black memorabilia, a Hufflepuff scarf draped over a corner of the desk, a stuffed badger wearing a yellow beanie and so many flowers they were stacked on top of one another. At the back and peeking out over the top of the flowers was the Golden Egg Cedric won from the Swedish Short-Snout in the first task.

Ron and Hermione had accompanied Harry to the Entrance Hall. When he left the Hospital Wing he hadn't a specific place in mind, rather had just started walking with only loose plans of finding somewhere private to hide away. But after talking with Ernie he had decided to go straight here. It felt like this was the place he was supposed to go, and when he said this to Ron and Hermione they just nodded. It wasn't a question of should they go with him, they just did.

When they got to the Entrance Hall Harry began to falter, not feeling prepared for what he had to face. Descending the marble staircase he had slowed down to a stop, choosing to look at the memorial over the edge of the balustrade without going any closer. There had been no one else around but them, not a soul, for which Harry was immensely grateful.

The whole thing had left him feeling unsettled, finding it rather confronting to face. He had thought that seeing and touching Cedric's dead body was enough, that it would have been the final confirmation that his fellow school mate was irrevocably dead, but the memorial was something else entirely.

In the back of his mind Harry had continued to feel a kind of suspended disbelief about Cedric, a stupid but hopeful thought that maybe he had been wrong. Perhaps that's why he had found the memorial so confronting, why he hadn't been able to go any closer. It was an acknowledgement from other people that in fact, Cedric was dead. Harry wasn't mistaken. There wasn't a second chance. Cedric was dead, and people were grieving for him.

Unable to go closer, but not ready to leave, Harry sat half way down the marble staircase and observed the memorial from a distance. As he knew they would his friends lingered with him, Hermione sitting by his side while Ron sat on the step above. Neither of them questioned or pushed him about anything, allowing him to sit there quietly with his thoughts.

The strange sense of normalcy he felt earlier had faded completely, a hopeless wish. Nothing about today was normal. Nothing was ever going to be normal again, the sight of Cedric's memorial making that fact clear.

It might have been ten minutes before someone else came along, hushed whispers drifting out of nowhere as Hufflepuff students emerged. Conscious they were not supposed to be out of their dormitory they moved about quietly, coming forward to lay yet more trinkets, stuffed badgers and flowers on the table.

By then it was been too late for Harry to try and leave undetected. One of the Hufflepuffs had noticed him sitting there on the stairs, pointing him out to their friends, and so Harry grit his teeth and stayed. It would have been worse had they seen him fleeing as if he didn't want to be seen. So instead he had been forced to stand his ground, to remain exactly where he was and continue paying tribute to Cedric in his own silent way.

The Hufflepuff students had talked quietly amongst themselves for a little while, and when more arrived from downstairs their whispers became exasperated. From the relative privacy on the stairs Harry watched as they worked together to rearrange the table, spreading out the bottom of the enormous Hufflepuff banner across the floor so they could lay flowers there too. It was barely seven o'clock in the morning, and already the table was overflowing with tributes.

Harry could hear them talking about him, though their tone of voice was difficult to distinguish. Despite their whispers they didn't disturb him in the slightest, and the small, hesitant smile he got from one of the fifth years made him wonder if they didn't mind him being there.

There was little time to dwell on whether or not the Hufflepuffs wanted him there, for a short while later Harry looked up to the landing above him. Fred, George and Ginny had arrived to join them, and though he had been reluctant at first to see Ron and Hermione, he was glad to see them too.

They weren't overly cautious or apprehensive of him. They didn't act like he was on his death bed ready to croak. Instead the twins ushered Harry to his feet, surprising him when they unexpectedly hugged him. This would be the first time they had seen him since he had been brought through this very Entrance Hall last night, and until now they had heard only second hand recounts of his condition from Ron and Hermione.

'We've left you something in your dorm,' George whispered.

'It's a toilet seat,' Fred added, taking his turn to hug him. 'You're welcome.'

'Gee, thanks,' Harry murmured. 'But I'm still using the first one you gave me.'

Fred nudged Ginny beside him. 'You hear that sarcasm? He's fine.'

Ginny just nodded, lifting her hand to say hello before sitting down a few steps higher. Together the six of them sat there on the marble staircase, for despite the lock down still being in effect more students were beginning to gather in the Entrance Hall. But aside from a few hushed whispers and the occasional pointing, no one dared to bother him with Ron and Hermione sitting right next to him, Fred, George and Ginny lingering nearby and collectively keeping the nosier students away.

They didn't make a scene of keeping people away, though only one other student was permitted to come over. Neville had stopped by to say hello, and quite like his usual self he seemed shy and uncertain, but Harry knew that it wasn't personal. He knew that with even greater certainty when Neville quietly sat down a few steps below them, filling in the last empty spot surrounding Harry.

Noticing this, he made a point of looking around at them all, unable to miss that he was quite literally surrounded by his friends. While he sat against the balustrade and looked down at the memorial his friends had flanked him on all sides, acting as a guard and deterrent against the people around them. Not so long ago he had been completely and utterly alone…but he tried not to dwell on that thought.

The Entrance Hall filled with more and more people as time went on, though the noise didn't reach more than a low hum. Most people weren't talking much, and if they were it was in hushed, respectful whispers.

People were there for Cedric, not solely to gawk at Harry, and that was evident by the way the memorial grew. Students were laying down flowers and home made wreaths, leaving trinkets and photographs and letters to Cedric. It was a collective grief, one they all seemed to share without question.

Yet despite the sadness of this occasion something about this moment felt, dare he think it…good. For a while it felt like they were all in this together, sharing their grief and paying tribute to Cedric as one.

'Do you think it would be bad taste if we put a toilet seat down there?' Fred whispered, leaning down to them.

'I'm not sure they'd understand the sentiment,' Hermione said glumly.

While she was leaning her head against his shoulder Harry tried to glance at her from the corner of his eye. He couldn't do it right now, it wasn't he time or place, but he knew he would need to ask how she and Ron were doing. Being stuck here in the castle while he was missing had to have been awful for them, particularly without having any information to reassure them.

Students weren't the only ones flouting the rules that morning. Teachers were out and about in the corridors, escorting younger students down to the Entrance Hall in groups so they could pay their respects. McGonagall was standing by the doors to the Great Hall with Professor Sprout, covertly passing her colleague a small hip-flask that probably didn't contain pumpkin juice.

Lurking in the corner was Filch in his best trench coat, standing there with what vaguely resembled a solemn expression. Mrs Norris was sitting on his shoulder, her tail smacking him in the face as if to remind him students weren't supposed to be out of their dormitories, but he made no foolish attempts to discipline anyone present.

Hagrid had come by too, but to Harry's relief he had done little more than wave his hand to him, perhaps knowing that Harry didn't want excess attention drawn his way. Instead Hagrid has ushered Neville to come down, and the two of them talked before Neville hurriedly returned.

'Hagrid says the kettle is always on at his hut,' Neville said, relaying the message as he resumed his former place. 'Any time you need a brew.'

'Thanks Nev,' he replied, watching as Hagrid laid down a bunch of flowers along with the others. When he looked up Harry nodded and raised his hand in a small wave, acknowledging his offer with gratitude.

'Should I do it now?' Ron was whispering anxiously to Hermione.

Hermione was hesitant, and she leant forward to get a better look around. 'Yeah, now's good.'

'It's just…' Ron added, still sounding anxious. 'What if they don't want it?'

Harry looked around at them, picking up the conversation halfway through.

'They will, Ron. It's a really nice thought.'

'But, it hasn't exactly been friendly between our houses, you know. What if this makes it worse?'

Turning around Hermione looked him in the eye, imploring him to understand. 'It's a beautiful gesture.'

'It is,' George agreed. 'Can't believe you thought of it.'

Curious about their conversation Harry looked back at Ron above him, surprised to see him clutching his Gryffindor scarf. But it became clearer what Ron was deliberating about, and Harry started to feel guilty now when he looked back to the Hufflepuff scarf draped over the table below.

It should be him who took the Gryffindor scarf down there, who made the twisted sort of condolence offering to Hufflepuff. But what would that be saying? Sorry I asked Cedric to take the Cup with me? Sorry I got him killed?

But even if it was the right gesture to make, Harry didn't think he could bring himself to do it. It would be too much…he physically could not bring himself to get up from this step and put his whole self on the line in front of so many people. Wasn't he allowed to be a coward some times?

Ron seemed to understand what Harry was thinking, and he brushed him off. 'It can be you if you want,' he said lowly, sounding as though he were also talking himself into it. 'But I got it. I can give it to them from you. You know, on your behalf.'

Grateful for him, Harry nodded. Things might have been tense between them last year before the First Task, but Ron and Hermione would always have his back. That was never more clear to him than it was in that very moment.

'Thanks,' he said gratefully. 'But don't say it's from me. It's from Gryffindor. From all of us.'

In agreement Ron nodded to himself, and his lips moved as he muttered under his breath, practicing what he would say. He was looking downstairs, his eyes moving along the path he would have to take as he braved himself. Then without another moment of hesitation he simply got up and went down, clutching the Gryffindor scarf.

Harry and the others watched him going down, hesitantly approaching two of Cedric's friends who stood closest the memorial, the sixth year students he was always seen in the company of. The Entrance Hall became quiet now, the sudden change making Ron's ears start to go red in embarrassment, but he didn't falter. He went up to the two sixth years and showed them the scarf, and they talked quietly.

Holding his breath Harry watched on, immensely grateful to Ron for doing this for him, for their entire house. To his immense relief Cedric's friends clapped Ron on the shoulder and ushered him over to the table, and they stood with him as he laid his scarf down on the corner alongside Hufflepuff's.

At once the silence in the Entrance Hall broke, the soft murmurs and whispers picking up a little louder now. Everyone seemed pleased with what had just happened, and Harry could see why. The sight of the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor scarves draped alongside one another was heart-warming, particularly after the intense rivalry that had sprung up in the wake of the Goblet of Fire spitting out Harry's name and upstaging Hufflepuff's champion.

Ron and Cedric's friends talked a little longer, one of them gesturing and looking up at Harry, but Ron hastily shook his head. Roger Davies was coming over now too, bringing a Ravenclaw scarf and laying it down alongside Gryffindor's. Cho Chang was with him, her face pink with tears, and Harry had to look away.

'They wanted to talk to you,' Ron said when he came back and resumed his spot behind Harry and Hermione. He sounded a little out of breath, like he had been holding it the entire time. 'But I said not today. Hope that's okay.'

'Thanks.'

'Screw it,' George said abruptly, jumping up to his feet. 'Let's give Diggory a toilet seat.'

Without another word he departed with Fred hastening to follow, and then after a moment Ginny bolted after them, and she could be heard begging them to let her blow the toilet up this time. Harry watched the three siblings leaving, smiling when he saw Fred sling his arm around his sister's neck and roughly pull her against him, mussing up her hair as he agreed to her request.

Amidst the grief, Harry could hear the beginnings of rumours that were beginning to spread. It was just a whisper here and there, mainly people who hadn't realised Harry Potter could hear them, or who perhaps didn't care. He'd been hearing them interspersed in conversations, and heard most of the rumours repeated in a single conversation when a few students lingered by the memorial to talk, standing right beneath Harry's place on the stairs.

'Moody set the whole thing up to kill Potter,' someone whispered, thinking they were being subtle. 'He killed Cedric.'

'No, no,' someone else whispered urgently. 'Mr Crouch from the Ministry was helping Moody. That's who killed Cedric.'

'But, why was Potter gone for so long?'

'I heard he killed someone. Didn't you see him last night?'

'Do you think he killed Cedric? Like, by accident?'

Giving a short laugh beneath his breath, Harry was astounded at the inaccuracies of the rumours, disappointed that not one single statement he had overheard was true. Rita Skeeter's article from the day of the Third Task surely wasn't helping given she had called him disturbed and dangerous. He turned to Hermione.

'What's the Prophet saying?'

'Just that you and Cedric were missing.'

Not quite trusting her tone of voice, Harry looked at her a little longer. 'And Rita Skeeter?' he asked, looking to Ron also.

'Nothing worth repeating,' he said darkly.

'I'm going to see it anyway.'

Hermione sighed now, having hoped to avoid this line of questions. 'She accused you of pulling a disappearing act to get extra attention, because you had to share the win with Cedric.'

'And Cedric?' he questioned, not at all surprised by Skeeter's angle. 'How did she explain that?'

'Nothing about that, yet. The Evening Prophet only came out not long before you returned.'

'We're expecting her retraction any minute,' Ron muttered darkly.

'She can't just blindly accuse you of manufacturing this. People might believe it. We've already spoken to Dumbledore.'

This was not of any comfort. 'Dumbledore's got bigger things on his plate than her.'

Hermione shook her head, disagreeing. 'It matters. If Fudge won't hear the truth, he's going to put his own version of the truth out there. He's done it before. About Mr Crouch, and Bertha Jorkins.'

'What about today's Prophet?' Harry asked.

'Not here yet. We think the mail might be on hold until the lockdown is over.'

Thankfully their conversation trailed off now, and the gossip about Harry slowly gave way to something better. There was a whispered murmur going around, something about a gathering in the Hufflepuff common room that afternoon. It would be far from a party, but there would be food and it was rumoured Sprout was sending out for Butterbeers.

The whispers came around to them now, Justin Finch-Fletchy coming over to tell invite them, specifically asking Harry come. Everyone was watching him, waiting for his response, and all he could commit to was, 'I'll try.'

'If you're feeling up to it,' Justin said lightly, giving him an out. For a moment he looked as though he were going to clap Harry on the shoulder, but then he seemed to think better of it. 'Thanks Harry.'

'Do you think you'll go?' Ron asked once Justin was gone.

'No,' Harry muttered, looking back down at the memorial. 'I, erm…'

'It's alright,' Hermione said, reaffirming her arm that was entwined with his. 'Ron and I will go. We'll make excuses for you.'

'Thanks.'

A short while later Harry heard the doors to the dungeons open, announcing the arrival of the Slytherins. Having been dreading this very encounter Harry braced himself, his free hand ready to move to his wand though he knew there was no cause for it. Even if Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were there, and even if they'd somehow heard from their fathers the details of what happened, nothing would happen today. There was no reason to be concerned about them, but they weren't the only Slytherins on Harry's mind.

Snape was crossing the Entrance Hall, escorting the small gaggle of students so they could come and pay their respects. As he watched him Harry was relieved to feel only a numb sense of detachment, though he understood and accepted what had happened. Snape had been there while he was tortured, bearing witness to Harry's very worst moments. When he lay on the floor screaming, pleading for them to stop, promising to obey them…Snape had let it happen.

Dumbledore and Sirius had explained everything, but he knew that Snape could have done something to help him sooner. He could have taken drastic measures like rescuing him immediately, even at the expense of revealing himself to be a double agent. Dumbledore himself had said that any cost was acceptable to save him…and Snape had not done it. Instead he had left him to suffer more, all to preserve his double life.

Beside him, Hermione gave him a budge. 'Don't,' she whispered.

Coming back to earth, Harry abruptly remembered that she had her arm entwined around his, that she could feel how tense he had become. He tried to let up, loosening his hand that had been gripping hers, but he could not relax.

'Do you know what he did?' Harry asked, his first step towards gauging what they did and didn't know about what happened to him.

'Dumbledore gave us a run down,' Ron said, and Harry was pleased to hear he sounded equally uneasy with Snape's presence.

'He said Snape saved you,' Hermione added diplomatically. 'Convinced You Know Who to let you go.'

This fact Harry could not dispute, but that didn't mean he wouldn't argue. 'He also stood by and did nothing. He watched while they tortured me.'

There was a long pause, and then Hermione spoke again. 'In ten years, what will matter more? That he -'

'And we are completely on your side,' Ron interrupted, cutting her off with a pointed glare. 'Aren't we, 'Mione?'

'Yes of course,' Hermione hastened to clarify. 'Of course we're on your side. Bu-'

'One hundred percent blindly on your side,' Ron interrupted again.

She nodded in agreement, beginning to look worried that Harry would get the wrong impression. With his face turned away to watch Snape approaching the memorial, she couldn't see the hint of a smile in his eyes. He had known that Hermione would try to make him see things from a different perspective, while Ron would blindly support him no matter what. It was just the way they were, and he never expected any different.

'I get it,' he said gently, glancing back to reassure her he wasn't mad at her. He turned away again, watching as one of the Slytherin seventh years laid down their green scarf with the others. 'But what matters in ten years isn't what matters now.'

'Just to be clear, we hate him right?' Ron asked.

'Yes'

Ron nodded, understanding. 'Maybe if we get lucky he'll insult a Hippogriff.'

Harry managed an actual smile now. A good round of Snape bashing was always good fun. Beside them Hermione was shaking her head in her usual exasperation, this too making Harry smile. Usually half the fun was inciting her, getting her all riled up about their disrespect for teachers.

But the moment of fun was fleeting, for there was no denying where they were right now, there was no pretending. From a distance Harry watched as the Slytherins continued coming forward to lay flowers while Snape watched on, standing with McGonagall and Sprout.

Harry stared, waiting for him to look up and acknowledge Harry's presence. But not once did he look in Harry's direction, and it felt clear he was making a point of that, likely wishing to avoid any interaction at all. Despite what Snape had done for him, Harry still could not bring himself to trust this person, someone who had stood aside and let him suffer so horrifically.

Though it made his skin crawl he thought back to that last encounter at Malfoy Manor, the hooded Death Eater who had tortured him, who had concealed their identity. He didn't want to think about that again, not ever…but it lingered in the forefront of his mind, and he knew who the person who tortured him had to be.

Hermione cleared her throat, gaining their attention. 'Not even a Dementor would kiss Snape.'

At this comment Harry looked around quickly, certain he had misheard her. But Hermione just shrugged, looking between him and Ron. 'You both think you're the only ones who don't like him,' she said indignantly. She readjusted her arm around Harry's, giving a heavy sigh as she looked down at Snape. 'I have insults too, you know.'

Ron let out a laugh-like gasp, covering up his mirth with a hurried cough that trailed off into stifled laughter. Though Harry didn't quite manage the laugh he did look at her proudly, and this time it was him shaking his head in exasperation.

'About time you got into the spirit.'

'Mmm, well. One hundred percent blindly on your side. Juvenile insults and all.'

'Thanks,' he said genuinely, giving her hand a squeeze. 'Shall we get you started on Trelawney?'

Hermione shook her head, bringing his attention to Colin Creevey who was approaching. 'That old bat is too incompetent to insult. Hi Colin.'

Hearing her sharp and expectant tone, Colin hesitated and looked at her warily, perhaps unaware of her unofficial role of keeping people away from Harry. Around his neck hung his camera, and they had seen him photographing Cedric's memorial and ushering people to get out of the frame. But he hadn't dared point that camera in Harry's direction, at least not that any of them had noticed.

'I've got something for Harry,' he said nervously, looking between Ron and Hermione and waiting for their permission. 'It's from Professor Dumbledore,' he added, showing them a scroll of parchment.

'Thanks Colin,' Harry said, reaching out and taking it from him.

'You're welcome,' he breathed, smiling at him. 'I'm really glad you're okay, Harry. We all are.'

Thanking him again, Harry forced a smile so that Colin would leave, and then he reluctantly broke the seal of Dumbledore's scroll. Whatever his Headmaster wanted, Harry wasn't sure he was ready to depart the Entrance Hall. It felt like he would be going too soon, like he needed to sit vigil here the entire day or else he wouldn't have properly paid his respects. The memorial continued to grow as more and more students came and went, while Cedric's friends who lingered for longer were beginning to pass out candles to those around them.

But when he opened Dumbledore's scroll and read, Harry knew that he had to go. Dumbledore was requesting him to come right now, and he must know where Harry was and why. If Dumbledore wanted him to leave the memorial it would be for good reason. Perhaps he had information to share with him, news of what went on for the last few hours while Harry had been sleeping.

Passing the note to Ron and Hermione he let them read it through. They didn't need to talk about it, they just got up together and departed as quietly as possible, whispering a quiet goodbye to Neville who still sat on the stairs a few places below them. A few other people noticed them leaving, but no one said anything or made a fuss, not that Harry had expected them too. At the top of the stairs they passed by Fred, George and Ginny, the latter of whom was soaking wet with toilet water, clutching the toilet seat as her brothers painted it yellow.

Before leaving Harry took one last moment to look over the balustrade to the Entrance Hall below, standing above Cedric's memorial and looking down at it. It had grown and expanded from the small table it had started as, Cedric's Quidditch robes fixed to the wall alongside the team photo and dozens more.

Draped across the corner were the scarves of all four Hogwarts Houses, a unified memorial to their fellow student. As they departed Harry wished that he could stay a little longer, somehow knowing that the sense of unity the school was feeling right now was not going to last.

A/N Sorry for the delay with chapters - please do leave a review, writing this story takes a lot of time and it's so encouraging to hear your feedback. Cheers.