If you're reading this, much love.
I've decided to gloss over what happened after the Death Eaters got called. Alright, so long story short, the Death Eaters came, Harry's wand shot golden flames appear out of its own accord, the Death Eaters panicked, sending 50 different curses at Harry, killing him. The spells knocked Harry back and the Portkey, to which Cedric was attached, zoomed to Hogwarts. The thing is, Harry was covered in blood.
"This is the worst I've ever felt in my life."
- Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
ENJOY!
Even though nearly a week had passed since Harry Potter had came out of the maze in the Quidditch pitch covered in blood on the June the twenty-fourth, Ron and Hermione felt as if it were only yesterday. The horrific vision of Harry's blank, bottle green eyes, his askew glasses, and his torn robes splattered horribly with blood still stood out as vivid as ever, fresh in their minds, and even though everybody had done everything to cheer Gryffindor House up, it was as though they would never be happy again.
Day after day, after lessons ended, the Gryffindors would turn up in their common room, which seemed as though a couple of Dementors had gripped the usual jubilance of the room. They would all stare at each other, wondering what had made them cheer when Harry's name was pulled out of the Goblet of Fire for this mess.
All except Ron and Hermione.
Hermione had became increasingly un-Hermione-ish ever since the restless night, and spent her time brooding about it by staring into space. Never talking, never speaking. No questions. No answers. It was as if someone had permanently placed her into a trance. It was a pitiful sight.
Ron, however, felt as if he had no insides at all. As if the wand had been snapped. The candle flickered out. The petrol ran dry. The paint grew stiff. The lamps extinguished. The battery was flat.
And that feeling was overwhelming. Each time Ron stared at Harry's trunk, he knew it would never get emptied. Each time he gazed at his favourite chair by the fire, he knew it would never get filled. Each time he stared at his bed, which had been stripped by a grim-faced Madame Pomphrey the morning after the Third Task, he knew it would never get occupied.
Somehow, the two friends managed to drag themselves through the week to the Leaving Feast. As soon as they entered the room, the usual, colourful posters that had decorated the Great Hall were replaced by droopy, dingy black drapes. Ron and Hermione knew instantly that they were there as a mark of respect for Harry and Cedric. After every student got seated, a miserable-looking Dumbledore held up his ancient, wrinkled hand; the mournful hubbub died instantly.
"Today," began Dumbledore,"we are lamenting the loss of two very fine people who should be sitting here," he continued, gesturing a hand towards the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables. "Today, we are mourning the loss of our two Hogwarts champions. They have died in vain, trying to do honour to their school, whether they chose to," he glanced at the Hufflepuff table, "or not." He turned to the Gryffindor table. "For this, I would like you all to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter."
They did it, every single one of them; they said, in a low, rumbling, echoing voice, "Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter." Ron and Hermione had peered through the crowd and noticed that Malfoy and his two trolls, Crabbe and Goyle, did not stand. Neither did most of the Slytherins, earning them a glare from Hagrid.
"Cedric Diggory," began Dumbledore,"proudly displayed the qualities of Hufflepuff House. He was kind, he was caring, he was loyal; most of all, he valued fair play. Cedric Diggory was known among his peers as a hard-working student who never put limits on himself. He was courageous enough to enter himself into the Triwizard Tournament to represent Hogwarts.
"Harry Potter," continued the Headmaster, "was a brave student, who definitely showed nerve and chivalry that proves that he belongs to Gryffindor House. Unlike Cedric, he was forced into the Tournament; however, he put much effort into getting through the Tasks that were presented to him. He was a person whom many people will miss bitterly for an awful stretch of time."
There was a very pregnant pause, in which everyone exchanged anxious looks, contemplating the Headmaster's deep words of respect for the two boys. Ron put his arm around Ginny's. She absent-mindedly rested her head on his shoulder.
"Hogwarts had lost two students, two loyal, kind, brave and courageous students who represented us in the Triwizard Tournament. Remember how valuable your family and friends' company is to you; there are many, many people who will have an extremely restless night, who will have a missing fragment in their hearts because of Cedric and Harry's passing. Remember Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter."
The trunks were packed; the beds tidy; Pigwidgeon shut safely in his cage; Crookshanks sleeping soundly in his wicker basket and Hedwig residing temporarily in Hagrid's hut. As the Hogwarts express tooted noisily at Hogsmeade station, Ron glanced back at the enormous castle that his best friend had considered home for four years. Hogwarts had always meant a lot to Ron Weasley - it was the place where he and Harry had met, it was the place where his sister was rescued from the Chamber of Secrets, it was the place where he came to find out the truth about Scabbers the supposed rat, it was the place where he loved more than anywhere in the world.
The train, when all of the students had taken a compartment, chugged slowly out of Hogsmeade station, turning its steamy back on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ron, Hermione, and Neville were piled into a compartment, a subdued silence settling among them. A while after Hogwarts faded into the fog, Neville croaked timidly, "This is the worst I've ever felt in my life."
"Join the club," replied Ron bitterly. He had rested his cheek on the cold glass; the sky's showers completely shattered the summer's mood. He felt as if he'll never grin again. He closed his eyes - but this time he couldn't stop his tears flowing. He sniffed hard, and buried his face in his hands. Hermione did the same.
Suddenly, the compartment door was ripped open, and Ron and Hermione hastily wiped their faces and looked up. The very last person Ron, Hermione and Neville had wanted to see poked his ugly face in.
"Trying not think about it, are we?" hissed Draco Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle gave a grunt of approval. "Trying to pretend nothing happened, Weasel, No-Brain, Mudblood?"
"We're not!" piped Neville up angrily. "We're not. And I bet You-Know-Who's behind it all."
Ron gasped.
"Of course he is," whispered Malfoy. "The Dark Lord will never let anyone murder Potter but him. You w-"
"Well, of course you'd know, your father's the biggest Death Eater of them all!" retaliated Hermione.
"Keep that bushy head down, Mudblood," hissed Malfoy. Crabbe cracked his knuckles threateningly. "And anyway," he continued, "You wait and see, the Dark Lord'll kill you all, it'll be Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first. Or perhaps second, because Potter was the fir-"
All three Gryffindors leaped to their feet and hexed Malfoy and his trolls; however, they were not the only ones to do so. Ginny, Fred, George, and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team appeared behind them in the hallway.
"Thought we'd love to give them a lesson," said George. Gazing at Crabbe, he said, "Who used the Bat Bogey hex?"
"Me," replied Ginny, her chest rising and falling. She stared at Neville, and said, "You used the Leg-Locker Curse, didn't you?"
"Yep," said Neville proudly. "He used that one on me in my first year. I've finally gotten my own back." He paused, then said, "Gran would be pleased."
As Ginny, Fred, George, Angelina, Katie, Alicia and Wood clambered into the compartment and somehow managed to squeeze themselves inside it. Fred and George pulled out a pack of cards, and they all had fun playing Exploding Snap, listening to the drum of the rain outside.
How could the rain fall so gracefully? How could the tree branches sweep so swiftly? How could the sparrows sleep so cosily, how could the world continue so normally? How could Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, be dead so suddenly? Ron realised, with a pang, that Sirius could be laying on the cave floor, lamenting the loss of his godson, his best friend's son... Ron felt as if he could never get enough of Harry.
As the Hogwarts Express pulled into platform nine and three-quarters, Ron leapt off the train, to greet his mother, who was looking at him sadly from underneath her floppy, flowered hat.
And as Ron strolled through the wall's magical barrier, he wondered what terrible power could end such a wonderful life.
Hi everyone! What do you think of my grand piece of work that I put so much effort into? I know the chapters are shorter than a usual chapter book's, but here we are - you can't judge a book by the length of its chapters.
Many thanks to everyone who reviewed Once Upon A Ghost, I hope you have fun reading this, and I'll post the new chapter ASAP.
A bientot!
The Walking Fan-Fictionary