Oliver lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, worrying. It had been three days since the final task was set to take place. Aquila was meant to have come home the day after. But she had yet to make an appearance. He was terribly worried that something had gone wrong. He had had the same sick feeling in his stomach for days. Something had happened. Something bad. He just knew. The darkness of the night began to turn to the light of the dawn, and Oliver felt all the worse for it. Where was she? What had happened in the final task of the Triwizard Tournament? Was Harry okay? Where was Aquila? He was horrendously aware of the sound of his own breathing. It felt like there was nothing else in the world, and it was slowly driving him mad. But then there was a sound. A crack that split the night. Oliver threw off the blankets and rushed into the sitting room, knowing it would be her. His heart pounded with relief and dread. What was he going to find when he went out there. He turned the lights on, and blinked through the stinging sensation. He had goosebumps up and down his arms, but whether that was from the cold or what he saw, he could not say.
Aquila stood in the middle of the room, staring blankly ahead of her. Her hair was a messy array, her face was drawn and pale. There were old bloodstains on her apron. Tears had left crusty tracks on her cheeks. Oliver thought he was going to be sick. What had happened.
"Aquila?" His voice cracked. "Aquila… What happened?" He took a hesitant step towards her, aware that when she was truly upset that she didn't like to be touched. He chanced putting a hand on her shoulder. She turned to face him, her eyes wide, as though she were only seeing him now. Her mouth worked in an attempt to speak, but no words came out. Something awful had happened. She suddenly seemed to collapse in on herself, her knees buckling and hitting the floor. She sat continuing to stare ahead of her, and Oliver sat next to her, taking her hands, dread filling him.
"Something's happened." she said, weakly. Her voice sounded monotonous, yet quite haunted. "They wanted to move his body with magic, but I wouldn't let them. He deserved better. I carried his body. Me and Poppy. We carried him. We… We cleaned him. Made him presentable. He was so young, Olly. He was a child. And now… Now he's gone." Oliver felt his heart jump up into his throat. Someone had died… Harry. Oliver's breathing came in ragged, fast gasps. Harry was dead. That small boy with so much talent, so much life about him.
"Aquila… What happened?" He tried his best to keep his voice calm, but the panic was beginning to seep through.
"They went into the maze, and they had to get to the Cup. Harry… Harry and Cedric reached it together, and they decided to take it together. But the cup… The cup was a… a portkey. It took them somewhere, and then Harry came back… With… With… Oliver… Cedric, he's. He's dead. Cedric's dead!" She sobbed the latter half of the sentence, and saying the words aloud seemed to undo the terrifying calm that had come over her. She cried out in great racking sobs, the tears flowing freely on her face.
"Cedric?" Oliver felt like he'd been struck. Cedric. The Hufflepuff team captain, prefect, and all around decent boy. Cedric, the lively, handsome boy, who was just beginning to find himself. Oliver's eyes flooded and blurred, and he could no longer see Aquila, who he'd taken into his arms. "How? How did this happen?!" He had known something bad had happened, but never in a million years would he have guessed that Cedric was dead. Who could kill Cedric? How could that strong boy just die? It didn't seem possible to him.
"He's back." she gasped, suddenly. She sounded terrified.
"Who's back?" he asked, but he felt that he already knew the answer to that.
"You Know Who. He's back. Harry… He just about escaped with his life. Brought back Cedric's body after they… after they killed him." Fresh sobs overtook her, and she could no longer speak. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had murdered Cedric… He didn't know if that made his passing better or worse. He was robbed of life. He was so young.
"His poor father… Cedric was all he had left in this world."
Aquila and Oliver sat together for a time, in silence, crying and mourning their friend. Oliver was shocked. He had only just seen him at Christmas. He had been so vibrant, so alive. How could he even begin to imagine a world where a young life like his had been snuffed out.
"When… When Poppy and I were taking care of Cedric, Professor Moody… He took Harry away. But… He wasn't. He wasn't Alastor Moody. He was a Death Eater. He had been taking poilyjuice all year to look like Moody. He tried to kill off Harry. He'd orchestrated the whole thing. Put Harry's name in the Goblet, swapped out the Cup for a portkey. Harry was hurt, I had to take care of him. I couldn't leave. I wouldn't leave Cedric's body. I couldn't leave the students. We're all in danger now. I had to protect them. I couldn't come home. I'm so sorry…" He held her all the closer.
"You did the right thing. You were so brave." Oliver couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like for her. Having to carry the dead body of her friend. Washing him, dressing him. Making him presentable for his father. Oliver would have balked at the task, and Aquila had been a greater friend to Cedric than he had. It was no wonder she sounded as haunted as she did.
"Is Harry okay?" She looked up at him then. He had never seen such sadness or desperation on her face.
"How could he be. He had to be there for when HE came back. Harry… He's a wreck. He blames himself for Cedric." Aquila sat back, seeming to calm. "Cedric's funeral is tomorrow." She looked at the lightening sky. "Today. We have to go." She stood all of a sudden. Oliver stood with her, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
"You could probably do with a shower. You'll feel better." he said. She nodded and staggered off towards the bathroom. She clutched the door frame and seemed to sag. She was crying again, he could tell. He felt stronger. He knew he was strong enough to hold both of them up. He came up behind her, and put an arm around her waist, supporting her. "I've got you." he said gently, as he helped her to undress, shedding off her rumpled and soiled uniform. She clung to him for support. He could tell when he looked in her eyes that all her strength had been spent the last three days. She had no more. He supported her into the bathroom, and watched her get into the shower, and slide down to the floor. He knelt down beside her, the warm water soaking him through in an instant. He pulled Aquila to her feet, and hugged her close. She bawled cried into his shoulder, clutching him close. He raked her sodden hair back from her face, and held her, their tears mingling with the water of the shower.
"Let's get you clean." he said, gently, reaching for a shampoo bottle. Her lavender shampoo. The smell calmed him, and he could see the tension in her shoulders ease. He didn't really know much about how to clean girls hair, but he supposed the same principles applied. She was still quite weak, and tried to keep an arm around her when it was possible, but she was calmer, there was some colour in her cheeks.
"Olly, you're clothes are soaked." she said, her voice somewhat scolding. But he could hear her gratitude. She didn't have to say it, he knew.
"They needed a wash anyways." he said, as he wrapped her in a fluffy red towel. That made her smile a little. The smile didn't last long, but it was something. "It's going to be okay." he said. "Dumbledore will figure this out. It's all going to be okay." But they both knew it wouldn't. The dark times were coming again, and they would have to fight. They would have to fight for their lives.