"Harry, mate," I take from Hermione's book and use a very soft hushed voice. It feels like I'm dealing with a skittish puppy, and I think in reality that I am. Harry has been torn up into pieces, beaten bloody and raped. He's been taught to believe that this pain is what he wants, when obviously, it's the last thing. I would have loved to believe that Harry was a macho man, but he isn't. He's alone. He needs help. "Cedric has not be nice to you lately." I need to be very cautious with my words.

"What do you mean?" Tears continue to cascade down my brother's face. It is in this moment that I realize that he looks like an angel. I quickly, and gently take hold of his other hand, so that he isn't alone in any way. He is surrounded by real love. Neville, who is sitting on his left, wraps his arm around his waist.

"Harry. He hit you."