Chapter Twenty-Two

Remember

:.:.:

The next few days certainly did drag on . . . though they passed by in a blur. I couldn't bring myself to focus on much of anything, and my Durmstrang brothers seemed to notice; they didn't try and question me about what happened, they didn't speak to me much at all, except Viktor, Finn, and Grigor, of course. But they didn't take it personally if I didn't respond or retreated into my thoughts, and never forced me to tell them anything. They were just simply there for me to keep me company, and that was all I wanted at the moment.

The first week was a rather emotional time. I couldn't seem to go very long without tears slipping out. The blokes did their best to distract me, though, as did the twins. They didn't visit too often, but considering I never left the ship anymore, they did make two or three trips out to see me; I'm afraid I wasn't much company, though.

On the night before we were to return to Durmstrang, that was when a state of numbness hit me. I felt more like a statue of who I used to be rather than the flesh and blood of who I was. I glided into the Great Hall for the Leaving Feast, as though I were nothing but a ghost. In a way, I sort of was, I suppose. I noticed, upon entering, there were black drapes on the wall behind the staff table. I knew they were there as a mark of respect to Cedric.

The real Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table now, his wooden leg and magical eye back in place. He was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. I couldn't blame him; Moody's fear of attack was bound to have been increased by his ten-month imprisonment in his own trunk. Karkaroff's chair was empty. I wondered if he'd managed to hide somewhere.

Madame Maxime was still there. She was sitting next to Hagrid. They were talking quietly together. Further along the table, sitting next to McGonagall, was Snape. He looked as sour as ever. Pretty soon, Dumbledore stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was, became very quiet.

"The end of another year," said Dumbledore, looking around at us all.

He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had even gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," Dumbledore continued, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."

We did, all of us; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Cedric Diggory."

We all sat down again.

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff House," Dumbledore continued; Viktor, on my left, and Finn, on my right, each took one of my hands in theirs. "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 it came about."

I was shaken from the bubble I'd been keeping myself in. I straightened up and stared at Dumbledore.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.

"The Ministry of Magic does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so — either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned toward Dumbledore now . . . except Draco. I noticed him muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle.

"There are two other people who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death," Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter and Demetria Harris."

Why me? I thought. Why not just Harry? I didn't do a damn thing...

"Harry Potter and Demetria Harris managed to escape Lord Voldemort. They risked their lives to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. They showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor them."

Dumbledore looked between Harry and I, raising his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. I didn't want them to, not for me anyway. It should've been about Harry . . . Actually, it should've been about Cedric . . .

When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened — of Lord Voldemort's return — such ties are more important than ever before."

Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to myself and the other Durmstrangs.

"Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore, eyes lingering upon us Durmstrang students, "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 are open.

"It is my belief — and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken — that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall 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 have to make a choice 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."

I knew I always would.

–

"Not gonna say your goodbyes?" Finn asked me.

I was perched up on the port railing of the ship, watching students from all three schools come together and bid farewell. Not everyone was doing this, but I did catch sight of Fleur saying goodbye to Harry.

"I'll see them again," I said indifferently.

"It'd mean a lot to them if you said something, I'm sure," he pressed softly.

"Why aren't you saying goodbye?"

"I've just got one left." His voice sounded distant, dreamy. I followed his gaze and spotted Daphne Greengrass. I wondered if they'd ever made things official, though my guess was that they didn't. I wasn't sure why but I also didn't feel like prying to find out. I suppose distance would play a part, though...

"Go on, then," I encouraged, though rather blandly.

Finn looked at me for a moment, clearly concerned, but eventually, he did descend the plank and go to Daphne. I also spotted Viktor saying goodbye to Hermione, and I'd been so interested in watching them that I hadn't noticed someone walking up the plank.

"Demetria?" came a French-accented voice. It was Fleur. "I am sorry if I am bozzering you."

"No," I told her, shaking my head.

"I just wanted to apologize for 'ow I treated you in ze beginning," she said whole-heartedly.

I was so surprised . . . also because I could feel an actual emotion etched across my face.

"I-I'd like to apologize too," I told her honestly.

"Zat is okay," she assured me, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Perhaps we will see each uzzer again." She reached out her hand; we shook.

I nodded. "That would be nice," I said, a fraction of a smile beginning to form on my own face.

"Good-bye, Demetria," she said, turning to go. "It 'az been a pleasure."

"Au revoir, Fleur."

And before she made her way down the plank, she looked to me with such a bright smile that it actually made me smile too. And if Fleur Delacour, of all people, wished to say goodbye to me, then I knew the friends I'd made at Hogwarts deserved the very same from me . . . even though it wasn't really goodbye, just see you later. I found Harry and Ron close by Viktor and Hermione, the two still engaged in conversation.

"You're coming to the Burrow this summer, right?" Ron asked immediately.

"I wouldn't miss it," I told him, a trace of a smile still carved into my face, though it never reached my eyes. I held out my arms, and though Ron was a bit hesitant, ears reddening, we hugged.

"Harry, I'll see you too, I hope?"

He seemed to give me the same sort of smile.

"Of course," he said; we hugged as well. "Remember to live," he whispered to me before we pulled apart. I nodded.

Hermione came over with Viktor, and we hugged, of course. She assured me she would see me at the Burrow too. And speaking of the Burrow, I began searching for those troublesome Weasley twins, as Cedric's last words for me began to play in my head.

"Tell Demetria . . . to remember to live . . . and not to let her life stop for me . . ."

Suddenly, someone had covered my eyes with their hands.

"Can't wait for that Quidditch match, Princess."

Fred.

"You're on, Weasley."

I turned around and immediately wrapped my arms around him; he quickly followed suit.

"See you soon, Harris," he said when we pulled apart.

"See you," I returned.

"Just can't get enough of us, can you, Dem?" George appeared beside his twin.

". . . Tell her I love her . . . and I know she loves me . . ."

I rolled my eyes, though still grinning. "I suppose not."

George extended his arms, and I placed myself between them.

". . . but I want her to love again . . ."

Suddenly, I had a brilliant idea. I pulled away from George and looked between him and his twin.

"Come with me," I told them brightly.

"To Durmstrang?" said George, taken aback.

"No," I told them, laughing. "Just come with me for a second."

They followed me as I led the way back to the ship.

"Better make it quick, Princess," said Fred, checking his watch. "We can't miss the carriages."

We made our way below deck, into the students' quarters, and then over to mine and Viktor's bunk. I pulled my trunk out from underneath and drew out my Triwizard winnings.

"I want you two to have this," I told them, handing the sack to George.

"What?" he said, flabbergasted.

"For your joke shop," I said fervently, "since Bagman never paid up."

"You can't be serious," said Fred.

"We can't take this." George tried giving it back to me.

"Please, I don't want it," I told them earnestly. "I shouldn't've even gotten it."

The twins exchanged a look.

"If you don't take it, I'm just going to toss it —"

"Alright alright," Fred was the first to admit defeat. "If you're sure...?"

"Yes, absolutely," I told him, happy to be rid of it. That gold had been a rather massive weight on my conscience.

"Thank you, Dem," he said sincerely before hugging me again.

"Yeah, seriously," said George, doing the same, "thank you, Tri."

Tri. My heart skipped a beat, as it always did.

". . . but I want her to love again . . ."

–

The day after we returned to Durmstrang was also the day we would all be heading back home. Usually, the night before would involve a large feast and a speech from Karkaroff in honor of the seventh years graduating. However, since Karkaroff had up and left us, Sasha took over. He'd been nervous, certainly, but he seemed to have a knack for it. I wondered if, since he was also graduating, the Norwegian Ministry would simply consider making him the new headmaster.

The journey back home was always — Well, just that — a journey. We started out by taking the ship out of the mountainous region where the castle was located, and from that point on, it was Muggle travel; unless, of course, you lived in Norway, in which case, congratulations — you were home. Those from Norway usually had family waiting for them once we all got off the ship, but for everyone else, our next destination was the train station, where we rode through Sweden and into Denmark. From there, everyone split apart, all of us sort of on our own at that point. Some stayed on the train, others had to take connecting routes, but everyone's destination was either Ukraine, Russia, or Bulgaria. Well, everyone except the two blokes I never bothered to notice were Finn and his younger step-brother, Marko. This was also where I said goodbye to Viktor and Grigor.

"I can't believe you two won't be at school next year," I said, crestfallen.

"Vell it is a good thing you found Finn," Grigor brightly offered. "or else you vould haff been on your own."

Finn tousled my hair beside me.

"Yeah, good thing," I teased sarcastically.

"Ve vill all stay in touch," Viktor assured me. "Do not vorry, sestra. Nothing is going to break apart this family."

And I knew he was right.

"Shte se vidim skoro," I told both of my Bulgarian brothers. "Az vi obicham i dvete." (I'll see you soon. I love you both)

Grigor and I embraced, exchanging kisses on the cheek as he said, "Obichame te." (We love you)

Grigor wrapped Finn up in a hug then, too. After Viktor and Finn did the same, he approached me and kissed my forehead, hugging me.

"It was you, wasn't it?" I asked him. Viktor pulled back and looked at me strangely.

"Vut vos me?" he asked.

"You put my name in the Goblet of Fire," I said matter-of-factly.

When Viktor began to smile, I thought I was right, so I was surprised to hear him say, "I did not, sestra, but I know who did."

"You knew the whole time?" I said incredulously.

"I found out very recently," he told me, "but you vould not believe me if I told you."

"Try me," I said.

After a rather long pause, Viktor finally said, "Nikolai Pavel."

"What?!" I exclaimed. "That git said he didn't! He was trying to get me killed?!"

Viktor actually chuckled. "No, no, Demi, you haff it all wrong," he assured me. "Pavel has been jealous of you since you came to Durmstrang. He never gave Grigor and I any trouble until ve befriended you. After you two duelled on the ship, Pavel vos vorried he had hurt you; he asked me how you vere ven I returned. That vos ven he admitted he had been too scared to enter the Trivizard Tournament."

"And you just knew that meant he put my name in?" I asked in disbelief.

"I am good, but not that good, no," Viktor admitted. "Though that is vut I suspected, so I asked; he said yes. He said, as much as he did not like to admit it, he knew Durmstrang vould be better served vith you as our champion."

I sighed.

"I'm not even going to think about it, I'm just going to believe you," I told him.

It seemed rather unbelievable that Nikolai would do something like that for any reason other than to have me hurt . . . but then again, perhaps not . . . I had, after all, seen another side of Nikolai a few times during that year, and it didn't appear to be a bad side at all.

"He did also tell me that if I told you this, he vould deny it," Viktor said.

I laughed. "Now I definitely believe it."

Viktor and I hugged again before he and Grigor went their way, and Finn, Marko, and I went ours. We headed to the ferry we'd be taking into the United Kingdom which, to our dismay, could not be done until reaching the Netherlands, for there were no longer any direct ferry routes from Scandinavia to the UK.

Unfortunately, there was a range limit on Apparation; only the absolute most skilled of witches and wizards ever even attempted inter-continental Apparation. And since I'd never seen anyone confident enough to pick up their child or children from Scandinavia by Apparating, Muggle transportation was necessary. It was also rather inconvenient, but it gave you extra time to spend with your mates, and though I usually took this part of the journey alone and used it for thinking time, it was nice to spend it with Finn, and Marko. I had a few good conversations with him, as well. And before I knew it, I was in the home stretch. All that was left was to take a train into London. Finn and Marko, on the other hand, still had a bit of a journey left in order to reach Scotland, so when the train pulled into King's Cross Station at my stop, Finn and I said our goodbyes.

"Don't get into too much trouble without me, Demetrius," he teased.

"It wouldn't be the same without you, Winifinn," I retorted, smirking.

He pulled me into his embrace, then, which I gladly returned.

"Owl me," I told him, sincerely.

He rubbed my back in a reassuring circle before breaking away. "As you wish, Your Highness."

"Couldn't be serious for a second more, could you?" I swatted his arm and he gave a laugh.

"See you, Dem." Finn smiled, watching as I left the compartment.

"See you, Finn."

My trunk and I stepped off the great steam engine and on to Platform 9 from Harwich. For a split second, I'd been expecting to see Grandad, but when I spotted Remus instead, it served as a reminder of why Grandad wasn't there.

"All right, Demetria?" Remus asked, concerned.

"Yeah, just tired," I told him; it was true, though. It was fairly late and I was exhausted.

"Then let's get you home."

Home. How could I call any place other than Harris Manor, home? I wished, then, that I hadn't ignored Grandad so much during the year, that Dumbledore had invited him when the families visited to watch the third task. But then I thought . . . I could wish and wish, but it wouldn't change a thing . . . What's done is done. I couldn't live in the past . . . and I would try my hardest not to. I would listen to Cedric's advice — I would remember to live.

And so the first book ends! I do have the sequel FINISHED, and will start posting, so be sure you're following me to be notified of when the new story posts! Thank you so much to everyone who encouraged me to keep going when I thought no one was interested anymore. I'm currently working on Book III so I hope everyone is as excited as I am for that!