Author's Note: Thank you so much to rozutsuki for reviewing! It made me so happy! I hope you enjoy this next chapter! (Although "enjoy" might not be the right word for this chapter.) Chapter Two: Remembrance and Strength

September 1, 1989

Mairead shifted her heavy trunk to one hand and used the other to slide open a compartment door on the Hogwarts Express. A group of students in her year were inside. She smiled at them, hoping for an invitation, but the hissing among them began at once.

"That's the Death Eater!"

"Don't let her sit with us!"

"Just tell her we're full."

Doing her best not to let her smile falter, Mairead said, "Oh, sorry, I was looking for someone," and slid the door closed again. Moving to the next compartment, she tried again. This time she recognized a few students from Slytherin. This group didn't even bother to lower their voices.

"Oh, look, it's the Squib."

"Does she seriously think she can sit with us?"

Mairead swallowed. "Sorry. Wrong compartment."

She slowly moved down the line of compartments, dragging her trunk and repeating the lie that she was looking for someone as she went, as though this would somehow soothe the sting of rejection.

Finally, she reached the last compartment on the train, which was empty.

It's better than riding in the loo like last year, she told herself. She struggled to lift her heavy trunk into the overhead storage, but couldn't manage it by herself. Finally she gave up when it crashed down on her foot and she just let it lie on the floor. It wasn't like anyone else would need the leg room.

She settled down into a seat by the window and opened up a book. It was something Sister Mary Margaret, a Novice at St. Hedwig's, had given her. It was about a young witch whose cruel parents would not let her attend school but who sneaked into the forest behind her house each night to hone her craft. Along the way, she befriended many woodland creatures and even a Muggle girl in the neighboring village. Eventually her powers outgrew those of her parents and she was finally able to attend school, where she made many friends and charmed all of her professors. This was the third time Mairead had read it. She was so engrossed that she didn't hear the compartment door sliding open.

"Hi - can we sit here?"

Mairead looked up into a pair of soft grey eyes peeking out from underneath a mop of brown hair.

"Are you talking to me?" she asked in confusion. The boy nodded.

"There's a group of us - d'you mind?"

Mairead looked past the boy's shoulder and saw that he had six or seven friends all lumped behind him, standing on their toes to see around him. She opened her mouth to invite them inside when the friend closest to the boy tapped him on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear. The boy frowned.

"Why not?" he asked quietly. The boy's friend whispered something else in his ear. Others were starting to shuffle around the boy and stare at her.

"Let's go sit somewhere else," one of the girls suggested.

"Yeah," agreed another. "We don't want to sit with her."

"I mean, there's seven of us and only one of her," reasoned a boy near the back. "Shouldn't she go find someplace else to sit?"

"I'm not leaving this compartment," snarled Mairead. "I found it first."

"What are you gonna do - duel us for it?" challenged another of the boys.

Mairead felt a prick of nervousness on the back of her neck. She was not in a position to fight them for this compartment. The first boy looked right at Mairead. His face was curious, but not hateful like the others' were.

"Listen - why don't you lot go sit in that other compartment we found?" said the boy.

"But they're one seat short, remember?" asked one of the girls.

The boy nodded. "I'm going to stay here," he said.

"Mate, listen, you do not want to do that," said the boy right behind him.

"It's done," said the first boy resolutely. "I'll catch you up later."

The other students left, shooting dubious glances at the boy as they went.

The boy slid the compartment door shut.

"That is - is it all right if I stay here?" he asked.

Mairead stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Why did you do that?" she asked suspiciously.

The boy shrugged. "Just felt like it, is all."

Mairead glowered. "What did that boy tell you, that I'm a Death Eater, or that I'm a Squib?" she asked sourly.

The boy looked away awkwardly. When he looked up and saw that Mairead wasn't going to budge, he quietly mumbled, "Both."

"Isn't this modern world we live in fascinating, where you can be both a Death Eater and a Squib at the same time? Fancy that!" sneered Mairead.

The boy shrugged again. "I don't think you'd be on your way to Hogwarts if you were a Squib, and I don't think you'd be so hurt right now if you were a Death Eater," he said simply.

Mairead blinked at him, completely disarmed.

"So, can I sit, or...?"

"You... you really want to sit with me?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yeah," he said. "I really do."

Mairead nodded. "Your choice of seats."

The boy's face broke into a big smile, and Mairead found that she couldn't help but smile back.

"Need some help with your trunk?" he asked, pointing.

Mairead's mouth twisted. "I couldn't lift it by myself," she admitted.

"I'll help you with yours if you help me with mine."

Mairead grinned. "All right, you're on."

They were both short and scrawny, and their trunks enormous and heavy, but after several tries and much grunting and straining, they managed to store their trunks in the overhead compartments.

"What's your name, by the way?" asked the boy when they had settled into their seats with a whoomph!

"Mairead..." She hesitated and lowered her gaze before quietly adding, "O'Keefe."

When she looked back up through her lashes, though, the boy was still smiling at her.

"Nice to meet you," he said. "I'm Cedric Diggory."

...

June 24, 1995

"Cedric Diggory!"

"Cedric Diggory is dead!

"He's dead!"

Mairead stared down into the lifeless, staring eyes of her best friend, her own eyes confirming what her ears were being assailed with all around her.

She was only vaguely aware of everything surrounding Cedric - of Fudge trying to peel Harry's fingers off Cedric's wrist, of Dumbledore lifting Harry to his feet, leaving Cedric lying on the ground. Mairead was seized by the insane impulse to lie down on the ground alongside his body, so that he wouldn't be alone down there. She wanted to hold his hand.

Fudge and Dumbledore were bickering over what to do with Harry. No one was talking about what to do with Cedric. Finally, she heard the word "Diggory" from Fudge and looked over. She could see a man running towards them - Cedric's father. Dumbledore and Fudge hurried off in the direction of Mr. Diggory. Mad-Eye Moody came over and put his arm around Harry and began guiding him away from the scene towards the castle, leaving Mairead alone with Cedric.

"Oh God, Cedric, what happened?" she asked in a whisper.

"What happened - Oh, God! CEDRIC!"

Amos Diggory fell down on his knees at the sight of his son's body. Mairead stumbled back a few steps to give him space. He seized Cedric by the shoulders and began shaking him.

"Ced! Cedric!" Mr. Diggory cried. "What happened?! Oh, God!" His voice broke and he began to sob, clutching his son's pale hand in both of his. "My boy, my boy, my beautiful boy..."

Mairead looked around and saw that Fudge was standing there doing nothing, helplessly watching Amos Diggory's anguish unfold. Dumbledore was still yards away with Mrs. Diggory, both of her hands in his, no doubt explaining what she was about to see. There was no one there to help.

Nothing could be done for Cedric, but something needed to be done for his father, whose cries had grown hysterical.

Mairead stepped forward. She knelt down beside Mr. Diggory and placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

"Mr. Diggory?" she said quietly.

Amos Diggory turned his red, tear-streaked face towards her.

"Oh, Mairead!" he cried.

Then, he lurched forward and threw his arms around Mairead. Mairead staggered under the unexpected weight of him, but she recovered and wrapped her arms around Mr. Diggory and squeezed him as tightly as she could. His torso repeatedly convulsed as violent sobs wracked his body. He was leaning what felt like most of his weight on Mairead, and it took all of her strength to hold him up.

"Shhh, I'm here," she whispered, automatically falling back on the words she would use to soothe frightened children at St. Hedwig's. "I've got you. I won't let you go."

Mairead held Mr. Diggory fast against the grief trying to tear him apart until Cedric's mother arrived. Her hand fluttered over her mouth and her eyes widened in horror as she looked down at Cedric. It occurred to Mairead that Mrs. Diggory was looking at her very worst fear.

She, too, knelt down next to Cedric. She stroked a hand tenderly over her son's cheek.

"My sweet darling," she murmured.

Then, she put a hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Amos," she said quietly.

Mr. Diggory released Mairead, turned to his wife, and the two took each other into their arms, the only port in what could only be the worst storm of their lives.

"Where is Harry?" Mairead heard Dumbledore ask urgently from behind her. "Cornelius - where did Harry go?"

"I don't know, Dumbledore," answered Fudge, sounding very put upon. "I was with you."

Mairead felt a strong hand grip her shoulder, and she looked away from Cedric's parents and up into the piercing blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

"Mairead, did you see where Harry went?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Professor Moody took him a few minutes ago," she said quietly. "They were headed back up to the castle."

Dumbledore's eyes began to blaze with a fury Mairead had never seen in them before. She was taken aback by the fearsome countenance of the Headmaster.

"I must go," said Dumbledore shortly. He released Mairead and began running up to the castle. "Minerva! Severus! Follow me at once!" she heard his deep voice boom commandingly.

"Dumbledore, where the hell -?" Fudge said, throwing up his hands in exasperation. Then, the Minister of Magic marched off and began shouting at the crowd to calm down.

Mairead looked around. Cedric's parents were still in each other's arms, both crying into the other's shoulder, holding each other together through their grief.

Mairead looked down at the body of her best friend. His face, normally rosy-cheeked and full of life, had grown pale and grey. His lips were blue. He somehow looked nothing like himself and yet Mairead drank in the sight of him, knowing that this was the last time she would ever look upon his face. She reached for Cedric's cold, lifeless hand and squeezed it once, then twice.

"I will love you forever," she whispered to Cedric. Then, she pushed herself to her feet.

There was no one to hold her together, so she would have to hold herself together.

...

September 7, 1990

Mairead pounced on Cedric as soon as he stepped through the passageway into the Common Room.

"Well?" she asked anxiously.

Cedric looked at the ground and scuffed it with his toe, looking disappointed. Mairead's face fell. Then, Cedric looked up at her and his face split into the contagious smile she loved so much.

"I'm in!" he cried.

Mairead shrieked, grabbed Cedric's hands, and jumped up and down on the spot. "Congratulations!" she squealed. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Thanks!" said Cedric, looking as though he still didn't quite believe it. "I got Seeker!"

Mairead's smile wavered only a little. "That's..." she said, then, "I - w-what is that? Is that good?"

Cedric blinked at her. "You don't know what a Seeker is?" he asked.

Mairead pursed her lips awkwardly. "Someone who... seeks?" she offered.

"Wait - you don't know Quidditch?" asked Cedric, looking bewildered. "How did I not know this about you?"

"I know Quidditch," said Mairead defensively. "It's the thing with the brooms and the balls and... and, and flying and... air. F-flying through the air with the balls."

Cedric looked at her blankly. "'Flying through the air with the balls'?" he repeated.

"I mean," Mairead faltered. "Technically that's accurate, isn't it?"

Cedric shook his head. "Sit down," he said firmly. "We're fixing this right here, right now."

Half an hour later, Mairead still hadn't gotten it.

"If it's so important, then why doesn't everybody just look for the thing, then?" she asked.

"The what?" asked Cedric.

"The ball."

"...Which ball?"

"Erm," Mairead screwed up her face trying to remember. "The flying one?"

Cedric looked as though he had serious concerns for her. "I... don't know how to begin answering that," he admitted.

Mairead huffed out a frustrated breath. "Look, maybe I just have to see it before I can understand it," she said.

Cedric nodded. "That makes sense," he said. "How about you come and watch a few practices?"

Mairead's eyebrows went up. "Are people allowed to do that?" she asked. "Non-Quidditch people, I mean?"

"Well, sure," said Cedric.

Mairead frowned and wrapped her arms around her middle, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I dunno," she mumbled. "Your teammates might not want me watching. I don't want them to feel nervous and do badly or anything."

Cedric's mouth formed a straight, firm line. "Well, they're gonna have to get over that," he said evenly. "If they've got a problem with my best friend, they've got a problem with me."

Mairead looked up at him, her mouth falling slightly open. "I'm your best friend?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"Of course you are."

Mairead's throat felt tight and her eyes were burning, but she still smiled tremulously at Cedric. "You're my best friend, too."

...

June 26, 1995

Mairead's throat felt tight and her eyes were burning as she sifted through a stack of photographs of Cedric. Here was one of him opening a broomstick on Christmas morning, his eyes shining with anticipation (after all, how could one disguise a broomstick?) and his mouth dropping in glee as he read the brand name on the handle.

"How did you know the deceased, miss?"

Here was one of him standing between his parents, smiling broadly. He looked to be about twelve. Here was a very recent photo of Cedric and Cho that must have been taken at the Yule Ball. Cho was glowing with happiness and Cedric was looking at her as though he couldn't believe his luck.

"Miss?"

Here was one with his father, one with his mother, one with his grandparents, one of him as a toddler on a toy broomstick, and another, and another, and another.

"Miss?"

Mairead blinked and looked up. "I'm sorry, what was that?" she asked hoarsely.

"How did you know the deceased?" repeated the aged funeral director.

Mairead looked down at the photo in her hand. It was a solo photograph of Cedric at the age of fifteen. He was standing outside, wearing his Hufflepuff robes. The sun had been setting, complementing his rosy cheeks and bringing out the natural highlights of his brown hair. He looked at the camera with a warm smile on his face, love shining out of his eyes. She had taken the photo herself.

"He was my best friend," she replied softly.

Mairead felt as though something heavy were crushing her chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe, but she hadn't fallen apart yet, and she wasn't about to start now, not when there was so much work to be done.

She blinked hard and twitched her nose to ward off the burning sensation that preceded tears. Then, she handed the solo photo to the funeral director.

"Here," she said. "Use this one, please."

The funeral director smiled, but did not take the photo from her hands.

"You mean, you are not related to the Diggorys?" he asked.

Mairead shook her head. "No."

The director pursed his lips. "My dear," he said in a placating tone that immediately set Mairead's teeth on edge. "I was unaware of this. I thought that you were a member of the family. Perhaps we should save these decisions for when Mr. and Mrs. Diggory can -"

"Mr. and Mrs. Diggory are unable to participate in the planning today, Mr. Luctus," Mairead cut him off. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

Mr. Luctus hesitated, then gave a little disappointed sigh and accepted the photograph Mairead was now brandishing at him.

"Very well," he said. "Shall we look at stationery next?"

Picking out stationery and caterers was far easier than going through the photos had been. Mairead hoped fervently that the most difficult planning decisions were behind her. She had a throbbing neck- and headache from clenching her jaw against the tidal waves of grief that constantly crashed over her.

She checked her watch subtly while the funeral director went on about the differences between white stationery and cream stationery. Her eyebrow twitched emotionlessly as she saw that the practical portion of the Defense N.E.W.T. was beginning now.

She had been standing next to Sophie that morning waiting to be admitted to the Great Hall for the written examination when Hopsy, the Diggorys' house-elf, had appeared in the Entrance Hall with a loud snap. Several people had screamed, still on edge from the events that had taken place two days earlier.

Hopsy had found Mairead and begged her to come with him. He said that the funeral director was at the house but Mr. Diggory had shut himself inside his library and Mrs. Diggory could not get out of bed.

Mairead had exchanged a look with Sophie, and then told Hopsy to lead the way.

She had arrived at the Diggory's home and immediately been led to Cedric's bedroom. Her breath had caught at the pain of being in a space where he had spent so much time. There were posters on the walls and his old textbooks on the shelves. She hadn't had long to take in the surroundings, though, because Hopsy was pushing her towards the walk-in closet where Mr. Luctus waited, looking slightly put out. Apparently the Diggorys were already supposed to have picked out the clothes that Cedric was to be buried in, but according to Hopsy they couldn't bring themselves to open up Cedric's closet door. Mr. Luctus asked her to hurry and stepped out of the room.

Mairead had been unprepared for this; she had expected to come lend moral support to Cedric's parents, not to have to do the thing herself. Nevertheless, she had screwed up her face against her howling anguish, strong as hurricane force winds, and had emerged fifteen minutes later with a suit and tie, dress robes to go overtop, socks, and shoes. From there they had moved onto picking out a photograph to be blown up and stood next to the casket, which Mairead had also had to choose.

Each step of the way her every decision had been subtly criticized and second-guessed by Mr. Luctus. Mairead had wanted to throw up her hands and tell him to plan the funeral himself if it meant so much to him, but she managed to keep control of that impulse. This was probably the last thing she would ever be able to do for Cedric; she wanted to do it right.

"Very well, miss, shall we move onto flower selections?" asked Mr. Luctus. Mairead nodded and managed to smile graciously.

"Now, lilies are of course very common, but I thought that an arrangement of gladioli and roses might be nice," said Mr. Luctus.

Mairead shook her head. "Cedric was allergic to gladioli," she said. "Let's do lilies."

Mr. Luctus frowned. "Are you sure, miss?" he asked. "Gladioli can be a striking and memorable addition to funereal arrangements."

Mairead nodded. "I'm sure. Cedric liked lilies."

Mr. Luctus's frown deepened and Mairead suppressed a sigh. Was he seriously going to take a hard line on this? Was she?

"With all due respect, miss," the funeral director said delicately. "You are not Mr. Diggory's mother. Nor are you even his sister. I can't help but wonder whether you are truly in a position to know what Mr. Diggory liked. I really think that we ought to see what the Diggorys would prefer."

Mairead's patience ran out. "I think the Diggorys would prefer that their son were still alive, so let's go with lilies as a distant second to that, yeah?"

Mr. Luctus sighed. "Very well. Now, what do you wish for here...?"

...

September 15, 1991

"What did you wish for?" asked Mairead.

Cedric made a face at her, which quickly melted into a grin. "I can't tell you that!" he said.

Mairead shrugged and handed a knife to her friend. He took it and sank it into the cake, lopping off a large wedge.

"I think you're supposed to take the candles out first," she said.

"Why? Oh..."

The two looked at the long strands of wax that were now streaking through the cake, then at each other. Cedric shrugged.

"Oh, well."

The two friends sat next to each other in a ring of Cedric's friends. They chatted and laughed as they ate cake, occasionally reaching into their mouths to pull out a piece of candle wax. By now Cedric's friends had come to tolerate Mairead's presence in their friend group. It never ceased to amaze her that someone with so much charisma and social power would use it to build tolerance and acceptance instead of using it to further his own self-image, but then that was Cedric: fair, welcoming, and kind to everybody.

"What did you get for your birthday, Cedric?" asked Heidi, one of Cedric's teammates on the Quidditch team.

"Oh, some clothes and things," said Cedric vaguely.

"Saw you got a bunch of money from your parents," said a rather tactless boy named Eugene.

"Yeah, it's this thing they do..." said Cedric, looking awkward. "They give me one more Sickle each year on my birthday, so that's why there were so many."

"So you got fourteen Sickles? Wicked!" Eugene exclaimed.

Cedric laughed uncomfortably. "Yeah, so I'm buying next trip to the Three Broomsticks," he said.

Mairead felt uneasy in crowds of people, especially crowds of people who didn't especially like her, but she stayed to the end for Cedric's sake. The two of them lingered after everyone else had gone to bed, clearing up the mess so that the house-elves wouldn't have to.

"I wish my parents wouldn't send me so much stuff," Cedric muttered, kicking disconsolately at a stray piece of wrapping paper. Mairead knew that the number of gifts his parents and grandparents showered him with made him feel guilty and uncomfortable. He didn't like most of his friends to know about it, but had confided this to Mairead last Christmas. "It's not even stuff I asked for!"

Mairead twisted her mouth sympathetically. "What would you want instead?" she asked.

"I dunno," he mumbled. "It'd just be nice to be asked, I suppose." He looked up at Mairead and smiled bitterly. "I sound like a spoiled, entitled, ungrateful little brat, don't I?" he asked sadly.

Mairead dropped a pile of serviettes in a wastebasket, went over, and pulled Cedric into a hug. "Not at all," she said loyally.

Hours later, Mairead tip-toed into the Third Year boys' dormitory. She silently peeked behind the hangings on each of the beds until she found Cedric. She reached out and clamped her hand over his mouth.

His eyes snapped open. It was good she had her hand over his mouth, he made enough noise as it was thrashing around. She tapped the first finger of her other hand to her lips. With a small frown, Cedric nodded and Mairead released his mouth.

"Come with me," she whispered.

Cedric followed her into the Common Room.

"May - what the hell?" he whispered. "It's six in the morning!"

Mairead nodded. "We've got a birthday mission," she said solemnly. With that, she turned and marched up the passageway.

"My birthday was yesterday!" hissed Cedric, scampering quietly along behind her.

"I know," she said. "Next year we'll do it on the day. This is a new birthday tradition."

The two kept mostly quiet as Cedric followed Mairead up staircase after staircase. At one point they had to hide in an empty classroom because they could hear Mrs. Norris mewling nearby. Finally, Mairead opened a door leading to a spiral staircase and gestured for Cedric to walk through.

"Why are we going to the Astronomy Tower?" he asked.

"Shut up - you'll see."

They emerged at the top of the tower and looked out on the Hogwarts grounds, still bathed in the dusty blue of pre-dawn.

Mairead sat down on the floor, back to the wall. Cedric looked down at her and crossed his arms.

"Okay, are you going to tell me what this is all about now?" Cedric demanded.

Mairead grinned. "My gift to you is fourteen wishes," she said.

Cedric blinked. "What?"

"I got the idea from the Sickles your parents sent you," she explained. "Every year on your birthday we're going to come up here and you have from the first light of dawn until the time the sun rises to make as many wishes as you are years old."

Cedric laughed uncertainly. "But... why?" he asked.

"Because I want you to have the things that you want," she said. "Not the things that people want for you, or want you to want."

Cedric looked at her, seriousness taking over his features. Without another word, he joined her on the ground, pressed his back up against the wall beside her, and took her hand. She squeezed it once, then twice.

"I will love you forever," he said quietly.

Mairead smiled, her heart filled with affection and contentment. "Here comes the first sunbeam," she whispered.

Cedric looked over at her. "Will you help me keep count?"

Mairead grinned. "Definitely."

Cedric glanced sidelong at her. "We're doing this on your birthday, too," he said decisively.

"Deal," she said. "Okay, fourteen wishes. Go."

...

July 3, 1995

"Oh, all the comrades that e'er I've had

Are sorry for my going away

And all the sweethearts that e'er I've had

Would wish me one more day to stay

But since it falls unto my lot

That I should rise and you should not

I'll gently rise and I'll softly call

'Goodnight, and joy be with you all!

Goodnight, and joy be with you all'"

Mairead watched from the back pew as Cedric's coffin was carried out of the church and into the churchyard. The pallbearers were made up of Cedric's classmates and Quidditch teammates from Hogwarts. They had sat up in the front rows of the church along with Mr. and Mrs. Diggory. Even Cho had been offered a seat of honor next to Cedric's grandparents in one of the front rows. But Mairead had been relegated to the back of the church.

Mrs. Diggory had stayed in her bedroom for two days. When she had come out, she had thanked Mairead profusely for all of her help and asked her to be a pallbearer at the service.

According to Hopsy, with whom Mairead had become close during all of her work planning Cedric's funeral, it had taken a visit from the Minister of Magic himself to get Mr. Diggory to come out of his library. When Mr. Diggory had finally emerged, he had asked Mairead to come over for drinks. When she had arrived, Amos Diggory had also thanked her for her "contributions," but said that he had one final favor to ask of her.

That favor had turned out to be secrecy. He said that, while he appreciated her generosity of spirit, his colleagues and other prominent members of Wizarding society would be at the funeral, and it would hardly do for Cedric's memory to be tarnished by his association with Mairead. He revoked his wife's offer of pallbearer and asked that, if Mairead felt she must attend Cedric's funeral, she do so discreetly.

Out in the yard, the coffin was lowered into the ground. She was shuffled to the back of the line of mourners and struggled to see as Cedric's parents, grandparents, and girlfriend dropped flowers - flowers Mairead had picked out - onto the top of the casket. Mairead gritted her teeth as her eyes flitted over the pallbearers. Two of them were boys Cedric wasn't even friends with anymore.

She turned to go. She had had enough.

...

June 1, 1993

"Had enough fun, have you?"

Mairead looked up from her cardigan, whose hem she had been fiddling with, and into Cedric's smiling grey eyes. His hair was windswept, like he had just come in from outside, and the camera he had gotten for his birthday that year was dangling from his neck.

She smiled wanly. "Just tired," she said softly.

Cedric laughed, then took in her appearance. She was huddled in an oversize armchair in a corner of their Common Room, far away from the conversation and merriment taking place closer to the fireplace. It was late afternoon but she was still in her pyjamas, and the quilt she had draped over her lap was from up on her bed.

"Did you even go to Hogsmeade?" he asked her. She shook her head.

"Why not?" said Cedric. "Exams are canceled! The school is saved! I would've thought you and Steven would be out celebrating."

Mairead said nothing, but her trembling lips gave her away. Cedric immediately crouched down on the floor by her chair.

"What's wrong?" he asked urgently.

Mairead twitched her nose and blinked rapidly to forestall the tears, but her voice still broke when she said, "Steven broke up with me last night."

"What?!"

Mairead looked away, desperate not to start crying again.

"Move over," said Cedric.

Mairead looked up, startled. "What?"

"I said budge up."

Mairead dubiously shifted her weight to one side of the chair, and Cedric crammed his hips in beside hers. He turned his body towards hers and held out his arms.

Mairead didn't have to be told twice. She buried her face in her friend's chest and began weeping pathetically.

After she had calmed down somewhat, Cedric softly asked, "What happened?"

Mairead wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve and sat back slightly. "You know how he's moving to Portugal, right?" she began, and Cedric nodded. "Well, I thought that we were going to write and Floo and see each other as often as possible. But last night he told me he doesn't want to do long distance." Using a dry part of her sleeve to wipe her eyes, she added, "He says he's ending it for my sake, but Sarah's been telling me for weeks that he was probably going to break up with me. Sh-she said he would want to be single when he got to Portugal, but I didn't b-believe her." She broke off as new tears streamed out of her eyes.

Cedric's eyes flashed. "Sarah is a trouble-making busybody arsehole and I do not understand why you're friends with her," he said angrily.

"Because she's the only friend that I've got!" said Mairead hotly.

Cedric froze. "I really hope you didn't mean that," he said softly. "I hope you know that's not true."

Mairead shifted guiltily, unable to meet his eyes. "Maybe you shouldn't be friends with me," she said morosely. "Maybe you should break up with me, too."

"That's never going to happen," said Cedric patiently.

"Well, maybe it should! I'm bad luck. I'm unlovable. I'm self-centered and I say mean things and I - why are you laughing?" she wailed.

"Because you're the most lovable, least self-centered person I know," said Cedric fondly.

"No, you are," said Mairead churlishly.

"Nope. You."

"You're way nicer than me!" cried Mairead.

Cedric rose to his feet then. "Come on," he said, holding out a hand to her.

Mairead frowned. "Where?" she said.

"We're going to Hogsmeade - well, first you're taking off those ridiculous slippers and putting on shoes. Then we're going to Hogsmeade."

"Why?" she challenged.

"Because it's that or get into a dick-measuring contest over who's nicer, and I lent my measuring tape out."

"It's too late to go to Hogsmeade," she argued.

"We'll get dinner."

Mairead pulled the quilt up around her chin. "I don't feel like it," she said sullenly.

"You will."

"I'm just going to bring down your mood," she said, starting to cry again.

"Never," he swore.

"Why are you friends with me?" she asked after a long silence.

Cedric knelt down beside her and took her hands. "Because I love you," he said sincerely. He squeezed her hands once, then twice. "I'll love you forever."

Mairead once again dissolved into another bout of fitful crying.

Eventually Cedric persuaded Mairead to go upstairs, get dressed, and go to Hogsmeade with him. Cedric sang snatches of his favorite song as they walked, once reaching for Mairead's hand and spinning her around as they went.

"On a magical night like this

Just being in your arms is bliss

Don't know what you've incanted

Just know that you've enchanted me"

As they walked through the gates, Mairead spoke up.

"You lent your measuring tape out," she said. "I wouldn'tve done that. That makes you the nicer person."

Cedric threw his head back and laughed. "Merlin's beard, you are so much WORK!"

Grinning now, Mairead reached over and swiped the camera from around his neck. Looking at him through the viewfinder, Mairead quietly confessed, "Cedric? I'm really glad you're my friend."

Cedric looked over, smiling lovingly at her. "I'll always be your friend. I'll be your friend until the day I die."

Mairead took in the glow in his eyes, the way the setting sun looked on his skin and his hair, and she snapped the photo.

...

July 3, 1995

Mairead arrived back at the house in St. John's Wood. She dropped her ring of keys on the coffee table and went to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water.

She felt as though she were somehow outside of her body. The exhaustion of the past week was the only thing she was even vaguely aware of. Everything else felt numb. She barely even felt the floor under her feet, or the coolness of the glass of water as she drank. There were no pets in this house. It was situated in a quiet neighborhood with very little traffic. Silence pressed in all around her.

Mairead listlessly walked back over to the coffee table where she had dropped the keys and sat down in a beautiful but uncomfortable chair. Her eyes fell on the coffee table books artfully spread out on the surface. Scanning the covers disinterestedly, her eye caught on the title of one.

It was a book on the symbolism and meanings of flowers. Mairead set her water glass down on a coaster and picked up the book. It was so large she had to rest it in her lap as she fanned aimlessly through the pages, full-color photographs of each flower flashing before her eyes. Apathetically, Mairead turned to the back, automatically checking for an index. She let her finger trail down the alphabetical list of names until her finger came to rest on one.

Gladiolus palustris.

Mairead blinked at the scientific name for a moment, then flipped to its corresponding page in the book. The flowers were beautiful, but the almost hyper-real brightness of the blossoms made her angry, for some reason. Her upper lip curled back in a small sneer as she scanned the entry. As Mr. Luctus had said, gladioli were frequently used in funerals and memorials. She read that they represented remembrance, faithfulness, strength of character, and moral integrity.

Mairead's eyes flicked back to read the meanings again.

Strength of character. Moral integrity. Faithfulness.

Her breath began to quicken as she suddenly became aware of her error. These flowers should have been at Cedric's funeral. They represented everything he had felt was important in life.

"Oh, no," she whispered, feeling the beginnings of a panic attack fluttering in her chest.

She jumped to her feet, grabbed the keys, and rushed out the door.

Night had fallen by the time Mairead returned to the churchyard where Cedric had been buried that afternoon. She was clutching a large bouquet of gladioli. It had taken her nearly two hours to track down an open florist who had them in stock. She stumbled as she hurried through the churchyard, trying to remember where his gravesite was.

With an unpleasant roiling in her stomach, she realized that his grave was the one with the fresh dirt piled on top.

She approached slowly, hesitantly, as though worried she would disturb him. Her hand shook as she gently laid the flowers at the base of his headstone. She stepped back a few paces.

"Hey," she said softly. "I'm - I'm sorry I didn't go to your reception. But then, I figured you probably wouldn'tve wanted to go, either... But you would've. You would've gone anyway." She laughed thickly. "See? You were the better person... I'm sorry about the mistake with the flowers. I didn't think you'd have wanted the gladioli seeing as you're allergic to them, but then I found out what they mean, so I wanted to make sure you had some. And anyway I guess your allergies probably aren't bothering you right now."

She broke off and tipped her head back, taking long, slow breaths, trying not to fall apart.

"I just wish... I wish I knew what happened to you," she continued in a small, high voice. "I never found out how you died. I didn't think it would be right to ask your parents and... I just -" her voice broke and she stopped for several long moments to press the heels of her hands hard against her eyes. "I hope you weren't afraid," she said in a tiny voice from behind her hands. "I hope it didn't hurt. I hope it didn't take long. I hope you weren't alone - I hate to think that you were alone."

"He was not alone."

Mairead whirled around. Albus Dumbledore was standing behind her, his hands folded in front of him.

"Professor Dumbledore," she said thickly, stepping away from Cedric's grave. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude -"

"It is I who intruded, Mairead," said the Headmaster solemnly. "Truth be told, I thought I might find you here."

Mairead blinked rapidly to try to clear her head. "Oh? Did you need something, sir?"

Professor Dumbledore shook his head, his blue eyes regarding her wisely from behind his half-moon spectacles. "Only to thank you," he said, "for what you did for Cedric and his parents."

Mairead frowned. "How did you know about that?" she asked quickly. "Mr. Diggory asked me not to tell anybody."

"Miss Rosier informed me that you were called away by the Diggorys' house-elf minutes before your Defense Against the Dark Arts exam," said Professor Dumbledore. "I must confess I was able to piece things together after that."

"Oh."

"The service was beautiful," said Dumbledore. "You did a splendid job."

Mairead's breath hitched and she shook her head. "I got the flowers wrong," she said, voice trembling slightly. "I didn't know about gladioli. There should've been gladioli. So I was just bringing some." She gestured at the bouquet she had left.

"Your dedication to Cedric is remarkable," Dumbledore said. "And the admiration and love he had for you speak mountains as to your character."

Mairead pulled both lips into her mouth and bit down as hard as she could, but the pain she was feeling was no match for what was tormenting her soul. She looked up at the Headmaster, desperate for help.

"My dear, poor child," he said softly.

After holding herself together with no one to help her or offer her comfort for over a week, like she was a diamond and Dumbledore's words had struck at just the right place, Mairead broke apart into a million pieces.

Tears that had been amassing and repeatedly forced back down cascaded down her face. Sobs that she had been swallowing for days tore out of her throat. Strength that she had been calling upon and using and draining and never replenishing abandoned her, and she felt her knees give out under the crushing, pulverizing weight of her agony.

Dumbledore caught her before she hit the ground. In a surprisingly strong grasp, he held her boneless, wretched body and protected her while she dissolved. Without saying a word, Dumbledore let her know that he would hold onto and guard the pieces she was falling into so that none of them would get lost. So that they would all be there when she was ready to put herself together again.

Mairead lost track of how long she cried, but when she could finally stand on her own again, she pulled away, too devastated to be embarrassed. "You - you said he wasn't alone, sir?" she said in a broken voice.

Dumbledore nodded. "Harry Potter was at his side right through the end," he said. "It was quick. It was painless. And from what Harry has told me, it doesn't sound as though Cedric felt much fear. His concern was, as it always was, for others. He was the boy you loved to the very end."

Mairead held a hand to her mouth as a fresh wave of grief rolled over her. When she could speak again, she asked, "What happened to him?"

"He was murdered."

Mairead's mouth fell open and she regarded Professor Dumbledore with shock. "Murdered?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "By a Death Eater named Peter Pettigrew. Acting on the orders of Lord Voldemort."

Mairead went so still she temporarily stopped breathing. "You-Know-Who is dead," she whispered.

"I am afraid not."

For a moment Mairead feared she would pass out. Lowering the hand from her mouth, she breathed, "He's back?"

The Headmaster bowed his head.

"D-does the Minister know?"

For the briefest of moments, what looked astonishingly like irritation flashed in Dumbledore's eyes. "I regret to say that we will have little to no support from the Ministry in preventing the amassment of Voldemort's power."

Despite this calamitous news, Mairead's ear caught on one word. "'We'?"

Dumbledore's eyes lit up. It was as though he had been hoping she would pick up on precisely that word. "We," he confirmed.

The pieces Mairead had fallen into began to stir, preparing to reassemble themselves. Her strength was gone, but purpose took its place, lending sturdiness to her spine. She looked up, her swollen, red-rimmed eyes meeting the Headmaster's gaze resolutely.

"What can I do?"

...

Author's Note: How we all doing? Hanging in there? If it helps, I can say that the next chapter has a pretty happy moment for Mairead. :-) Thank you so much for reading! I hope you'll let me know what you think!

Songs: The song that is sung at Cedric's funeral is an Irish folksong called "The Parting Glass." Soundtrack for this chapter: "I'll Remember You," by Thea Gilmore (Mairead)