AN: WARNING MOURNING AND GRIEF. This chapter is very heavy with Penny's process to come to terms with what happened.
It was hard writing these last two chapters, and the pain of it was weighing on me, so I am posting earlier than I normally do to release it all, and it felt horrible leaving Penny on such a horrible note last chapter. Grief is hard, but it can and DOES get better.
This ends the Goblet of Fire! I can't believe I made it this far. Thanks to all of you for coming on Penny and Snape's journey! We now go forward to embark on the events of THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX. Hopefully some Penny and Snape terrorizing Umbridge makes up for this!
Be happy be happy!
"Penny dear, drink this, it'll help."
Penny blinked in confusion. There were people around her, all staring at her, looks of concern and pity in their eyes. She was sitting on a bed, the room dim, Harry's slumbering form just to her right. How had she gotten here? And why were they looking at her like that?
A cup was being pressed to her lips, but Penny refused it. Something wasn't right, she could feel it but she could not remember what it was. There was something she desperately needed to do. She tried to get up, but a gentle hand pressed her back into bed.
"Miss Potter, your injuries are in need of attention, I insist you stay so Poppy can tend to them."
The voice seemed familiar to Penny, but she could not recognize to whom it belonged to. All the faces before her were blending together, forming a long dark tunnel. Something fluttered around her face lingering to catch her attention before making its way down the newly formed tunnel. Every beat of its delicate wings tinkled like a wind chime, reminding Penny of warm sunny days and the smell of grass. She wanted to follow that sound-no, she needed to. There was something she needed to do-if she didn't-
""Foun' her like this, bin in a righ' ol' state, jus' mutterin' ter herself, kep' beggin' him ter come back."
The noise of these great blurred figures were drowning out the beautiful sound, swarming her, blocking her view of her guide. It was progressing without her, making it's lonely way to the end of the tunnel.
"Stop!" she begged. "Don't go that way, come back!"
"Mum. . .is she alright?
"P-Penny dear, can you hear me? It's Mrs. Weasley, we're here to help you."
The towering figures were pressing against Penny now, pushing her backwards, away from the way she wanted to go. The darkness was growing around her, and her guide's tiny light was growing fainter as it continued on its way without her.
Fear was growing in her chest, suffocating Penny. She was being pulled downward into that dark place she did not want to go. She could not go there, would not. If she was dragged in, she'd never make it out again. Her hands swung and her legs kicked instinctively. They collided with something that recoiled, so Penny continued her attacks, throwing all her body weight against the darkness, willing herself to make a path through, before the light went out.
"Get out of the way!"
Freedom was just a-head, Penny's hand reaching for it, she needed to grab it, if she could just catch it in her hand, she could stop it. . . But a towering figure grabbed her hand instead in its scissor like grasp. Its other arm pressed against her chest propelling her backwards with more strength than Penny could resist.
It forced her down into a free-fall, the darkness following her like water down a drain. It was swallowing her, the guide drowning, engulfed by the darkness. Penny had failed, there would be no second chances. She'd lost it never to find it again. She should have done more, called out-something-anything.
She was crying now, yelling in agony. She did not want to be left alone in the darkness. The falling sensation was sickening, coldness pressing in at all sides. She was gasping now, searching for air, but her chest refused to open for it.
"You're hurting her!"
The impact that came was unusually softer than Penny anticipated, it confused her. A thick blanket of emptiness encased her making it impossible to see anything, but she could feel the grip pinning her shoulders down. There was a curious vibration coming from it, spreading through her limbs. It was pleasant, calling to Penny in the tenderest of ways. She knew this sound, trusted it.
"Albus, stop him, she's seizing!"
"Molly, Severus would not do anything to hurt Penny, and I'm afraid he is the only one that can reach her now."
Penny felt an odd detachment from herself. In the blanket of cold she did not know where she began or ended. The darkness was eating away at her, worming its way inside of her to make her a part of it. She did not have the will to resist it, but the vibration reprimanded her for that, forcing her back into her own self-awareness.
It tugged at her, trying to pull her free, but Penny struggled against its efforts, which were agonizing. It felt like something was tearing the flesh from her, refusing to let her go. Why couldn't it just let her be? The blanket had been content to just absorb her, but was angry at the attempts to dislodge her. Their tug of war over her went on for what felt like an infinite amount of time, Penny fighting both sides, wanting nothing more than to be left alone. But then the emptiness finally relented, Penny feeling as though she were flinging upwards.
She gasped, sucking in great gulps of air, blinking rapidly, confused. She was staring into darkness, uncertain if she was still trapped in that place. Then she realized the deep pools looking at her were those of Severus Snape, who ensnared Penny with them along with his strangling hold on her.
"No, I have to go back. I need to stop him, if I can just tell him to stop," Penny said, desperately, trying to sit up.
Snape's arms held her firmly in place, pinning her to her bed.
"There's nothing you can do for him, you have to accept he's gone," Snape said, his lips tight and eyes hard.
"He's not! He can't be, I didn't get to tell him. . .Just let me go so I can tell him, if he goes that way he'll be all alone," Penny yelled, twisting against Snape.
"Penny, you aren't well, you're confused. If you'd just let us heal your injuries. . ." Another voice. Penny's eyes snapped to its owner. It was Mrs. Weasley, seeing her filled Penny with relief. She'd understand, she'd help Penny.
"I'm not! You have to help me, they took him away in a box, he's all alone in there. I must go to him, they don't understand, if I can just tell him to turn back. . ."
Mrs. Weasley looked down at Penny, her eyes welling with tears. Why was she crying? Why could no one understand how urgent this was?
"He's gone, Penny," she whispered.
This answer angered Penny, so she looked away searching the other faces, all their eyes full of the same pity.
"Fine! I'll do it myself, just get off me!" Penny growled, writhing beneath Snape.
His hands bruised her, he and Mrs. Weasley forcing her arms into submission, someone else taking a hold of her legs, trapping her in place.
"Why are you doing this!" Penny cried, erratic now. "I need to tell him, please just let me tell him!"
Snape's hand took an unkind hold of her chin, "Look at me!"
She could look nowhere else so she allowed herself to be pulled into those agonized eyes of his. Those familiar dark eyes, full of light, so unlike empty, lifeless grey ones. . .
Her chest constricted as she remembered-sitting before his lifeless body; the silence of his chest; the coldness of his hand. He would not respond no matter how many times Penny begged and cried. And then, before she was ready, he was being taken, people pulling her away. But she had not gotten the chance to say goodbye.
Her eyes filled with tears, the pain in her chest freeing itself in a stifled sob.
"I have to tell him, I should have stopped him," Penny cried, the pain in her chest spiraling through her and exiting as waves of tears.
"You will never find peace if you continue this way. He's gone, let yourself accept it," Snape said, his voice hard, though his features were contorted in pain.
"I can't," Penny choked.
His left hand released her arm to clasp both sides of her head.
"You will and you must," Snape said, his hands holding her more forcefully than was necessary as though willing her to accept his words.
Penny closed her eyes as another sob raged through her body.
"It hurts too much," Penny said, gripping the blankets beneath her.
Her chest was collapsing, the image of Cedric smiling down at her and kissing her nose blurring reality. It was worse than any of the aching in her body, than the cruciatus curse she'd felt just an hour before. In fact, she'd welcome the cruciatus curse, to feel that pain, to have her brain preoccupied with it would be a welcome distraction. But this hollow pain coming from the abyss in her chest would not let her escape.
It reminded Penny that she was alone, Cedric had left her alone, just like when she'd turned in that tunnel, just like death, how Cedric was alone in death, and Penny could not bear it.
"You're going to drink this," Snape said, uncorking a small vial Dumbledore handed to him.
"Don't send me back into the dark, please," Penny pleaded, trying to keep her mouth from him.
"This will bring nothing but relief."
"But I don't want relief. If I don't feel any pain, how will I remember him, how will I know he was actually here," Penny spluttered as Snape pried her mouth open and began pouring the liquid into it.
"You don't need the pain to remember, the hole will always be there, you will never be the same. No matter how much you may desire to forget at times, it will remind you," Snape said, quietly, bitterness and anguish appearing as harsh lines around his mouth.
Penny coughed, but allowed Snape to continue his effort, no longer resisting. For some horrible reason, she found comfort in his words. The edge in his voice, the way his eyes dimmed, and how the vibrations around him changed-they all told Penny that he knew. There was a hole somewhere inside of him, and this horrible ache in her chest was something she did not need to describe to him. Her pain, it was precious to her, because Cedric could not disappear completely, not if she carried this emptiness within herself.
Snape's grip was loosening and Penny's head was lulling, her eyes roaming the room in a haze. There was Dumbledore, dabbing his eyes beneath his half-moon spectacles. Ron and Hermione standing beside Harry's bed, looking terrified. Bill, releasing Penny's legs and moving to his mother's side to offer her a handkerchief. Mrs. Weasley, moving back to her seat, openly crying, looking between her and Harry. Hagrid, blowing his nose loudly. And then there was Snape. He lingered over her watching her for a moment. Penny wanted to reach for him, but something shifted behind those eyes, and the anguish disappeared, his wall returning to its was walking away, Penny sinking further into herself. She'd thought she'd heard Dumbledore speak,
"It's time, Severus." But she faded into unconsciousness before she could be certain.
When Penny woke from her dreamless sleep, the suffocating pain in her chest was gone, to be replaced with a numbness. She sat up, staring at her twin, who stared back at her. Neither of them could speak. Inside of Harry's head, the truth about why Cedric had died existed. He was the only one who'd witnessed it, and Penny found she was terrified of that.
"Penny-" Harry started, his face twisting with the effort to contain his emotion.
"I can't Harry-not yet," Penny stammered, unable to hold his gaze. "I'm sorry, Harry."
Before Harry could stop her, Penny got up, fearing the movement of emotion in her chest. She must leave it slumbering, she could not face it. So she moved, her legs taking her without thought.
Before her were two plates, the bare space beside her the one Cedric had occupied the day before and every day since they started dating. All Penny could do was stare at the empty plate. The Hufflepuff's did not seem to find this peculiar. Their eyes, unlike those from the night before, did not contain that loathsome pity. They grasped her shoulder, their eyes red with tears, leaving her the space she needed. Penny was vaguely aware that Dumbledore rose to speak and that everyone around her listened intently. But Penny heard nothing of it.
She could not turn away from the empty plate beside her, the empty tea cup Cedric always filled for her, the empty goblet he drank his pumpkin juice from. No matter how long she stared, Cedric would never join her. The truth of it finally suffocated her and Penny could not stand to sit there a moment longer. She felt wrong, tainted, alone, she needed to flee from it, flee from the horrible sense of loss that was washing over her.
Before Penny could flee, a gentle hand on her shoulder startled her.
"Penny," Professor McGonagall said, softly.
Penny opened her mouth several times to say something, but no words left her mouth.
"The Diggory's have asked to see you. If you'd like to go get changed first, they'll be in my office in ten minutes," McGonagall said, seeming to understand Penny's plight.
Penny nodded, getting stiffly to her feet, McGonagall's look of concern following Penny as she moved on autopilot, registering nothing. She only stopped when she reached her dormitory and began unbuttoning her shirt, the hollowness buried in her chest stirring dangerously. This had been what Penny had worn the last time Cedric looked at her. She couldn't go back once she took it off. The carefree Penny Cedric had looked at, known and loved was gone, a shell left in its place.
Choking down the desperate need to vomit, Penny tore her clothes from herself in an angry motion, throwing them on the ground with a loud yell. Grabbing her matted hair, she forced it into a bun, and then searched for the picture book she'd compiled from drama club.
With a shaking breath, she prepared herself for the onslaught of pain, and then began grabbing and duplicating every photo of Cedric she had within it. When she felt she could not fight the rising tears a moment longer, she stuffed the stack into an envelope.
The sight of Mr. Diggory's sobbing sent Penny teetering to the edge of her abyss. She could not bear to look at him. More painful still was how calmly Mrs. Diggory turned to her, her eyes scanning Penny and seeing what Penny refused to acknowledge.
"Cedric was happy," Penny found herself blurting out. "He was smiling when I wished him good luck before entering the maze," Penny said, her voice cracking with emotion, her tears rolling treacherously down her cheeks.
"Remember him that way, Penny. Don't let grief steal that from you," Mrs. Diggory said, placing her soft hand on Penny's.
It was unlike the hands Penny normally felt. She'd never known what it was like to have a mother or known the extent of their tenderness, but in this moment she felt she understood a mothers love. Taking a shaking breath, Penny nodded and handed them the envelope, refusing to watch as the two of them looked through the photo's, the sadness washing over all of them of how his life had been cut so terribly short.
"Thank you, Penny." Mrs. Diggory said, giving her a warm kiss on her forehead. "Our door is always open if you ever need anything."
And then the two of them were gone, leaving Penny trapped in that crippling pain as the memories of Cedric raced across her mind's eye. She tried with all of her might to suppress the emotion rising in her chest, it would surely overcome her if she let it. So she was moving again, on autopilot, to a place where Cedric's essence did not linger, where his memory did not haunt her.
The dungeon was cold and empty, Snape's office, dark, though not silent. She could hear the buzzing of life from his store cupboard. Focusing on it until it was all that occupied her mind, Penny sat against the cold door, unaware of the movement of time. She sank into the comfort of the numbness, letting herself become blissfully unaware of herself, far from the pain buried deep inside. She had not thought nor emotion, she simply listened, allowing the buzzing to dictate herself to her.
Penny's day's blurred together. She was too painfully aware each morning when she woke from a tormented sleep that she was getting further and further away from Cedric, from the moments they shared. So she'd force herself out of bed before the others to sit at the Hufflepuff table beside that empty space and plate and just stare; as the Great Hall filled, became loud and then began to quiet as students finished breakfast.
Everyday, at some point, Penny found herself unable to stand the sight of the empty space and felt the desperate need to get away from it. Like the day before, she'd walk and sit at Snape's empty office, wondering only momentarily where he had gone before escaping into the numbness. In the evenings, Harry Ron and Hermione would corner Penny and force her to sit with them and eat something before allowing her to retreat to her bed.
Harry did not pressure her to talk, though Hermione tried several times to broach the topic of 'grieving' only to receive a severe look from Ron, which Penny had appreciated. She had not heard her own voice since speaking to the Diggory's and had no desire to speak to anyone yet. The only thing she wanted was escape from being Penny.
For days, time held little relevance to Penny until the realization the moment she would be leaving Hogwarts without Cedric to embark on a very different summer than they had planned to, hit her. She got up abruptly, garnering many glances from those around her, and made her way to Snape's office, the endeavor so routine to her now that she did not notice that light flickered within.
The buzzing lulling her into a stupor, the door behind her slid open and Penny toppled backwards, her head colliding painfully with the cold floor. Dazed, she looked up into the face of Snape, who repressed a look of exasperation. Rubbing her head, Penny sat up and scooted her way back out of the door and leaned against the wall.
"What are you doing, Ms. Potter?" Snape said, stepping out of his office to look at her.
When Penny did not respond, he tried again.
"I am told company is good for grief. Why have you not sought the company of your brother, he was after all the last one to see-"
"Don't say it!" Penny choked, her hands clutching her head and her eyes squeezing shut as though afraid of an incoming blow.
Silence followed Penny's plea, blissful silence that kept her safe, She bit her lip, panting slightly from the effort to keep it all where it could not overcome her.
"You have not been spending your days sitting in this hallway alone, Ms. Potter," Snape said, and Penny felt she could almost hear his eyes narrowing on her.
"Can you just let me stay, I won't bother you," Penny said quietly, her voice raw and foreign to her. "It's the only place. . ."
"No," said Snape, his tone startling Penny with its sharpness.
He was bending down, pulling Penny to her feat and leading her inside before she could register what he was doing. "You are not to be alone." The mixture of his words and tone was oddly caring in a reprimanding sort of way.
He half dragged her across his room and set her down against the wall beside the fireplace where he would not have to look at her from his desk.
He watched her for a moment, Penny avoiding the dark eyes that saw more than she wanted them to.
"One thing everyday," he said, quietly.
"I don't-"
"You will think on one thing about Diggory everyday, it need not be much, his favorite color, his middle name, I do not care what you choose, but you will do it and not skip a day, do you understand me?"
Penny finally looked at him, her brows furrowed. She wanted very much to lie to him and say yes, just to make him go away. What he asked was too hard, too painful. But he was a step head of her as always and saw the lie before it even formed on her lips.
"If you do not I will know. You will never recover unless you do this. One thing ." Snape warned, and then he returned to his desk leaving Penny to listen to the scratching of his quill.
Recover? What did that mean? It sounded like something she'd like to feel, but was afraid of. The word was foreign, speaking of something Penny could not even imagine. But something about Snape's words gave her courage, they were safe words. And his eyes, in his eyes lingered no pity. To him, her pain was not something uncomfortable that needed to be covered up. No, Snape would never ask her to let that go.
"Indigo. His favorite color is-was indigo," said Penny. She clutched her chest as the ball there began to expand, threatening to force its way out of her.
The corners of her eyes burned and her heart thumped dangerously. Snape had turned and was watching her struggle.
"Grey," he finally said. "because it is never given the tedious task of conveying an emotion, it simply is."
His words worked their way into Penny's chest and she felt the ravenous creature within her curl back into itself. Closing her eyes, Penny allowed the sounds of Snape to lull her back into the stupor that required nothing of her, just like him.