Us ; George Weasley

Ninety-two

George

Allie was over the denial of her grief. It was obvious that realising today was the funeral, helped her over the denial part and now she was experiencing what I believed to be depression.

The ones going to Cedric's funeral was Allie, Marco, William, Eleanor, Charlotte, Mrs Silverberry and my family too. We all took a portkey to the graveyard where the ceremony was held and as soon as we landed outside of the graveyard, Allie had grabbed my hand, making sure I stayed close to her while Marco walked on the other side of her, between her and William.

Everything was ready. They had made an aisle with rows of chairs on either side and the casket at the front, the lid open with his body inside. They had made him look so alive and next to the casket was a photograph of him.

I looked to Allie. She refused to look at the casket. She looked everywhere but at it. I knew it was too harsh. Before we left, she panicked and talked about how she didn't want to attend the funeral. I had to convince her, knowing she'd regret it if she didn't.

Most of the school were here and every teacher was too. The minister was the one doing the ceremony, saying the words when lowering the casket while Cedric's parents were the one who had planned it all.

There was a moment before it started when Cedric's parents came to talk to Allie and Marco, but Allie didn't want me to leave so I was there for that too.

When the ceremony started, Allie was still holding onto my hand as we sat next to each other, listening to the minister speaking. The whole time, Allie looked down. Not once had she dared to look at the casket where Cedric lied, though Marco couldn't take his eyes off of it.

As the minister kept speaking about the events of Cedric's death, calling it a tragic accident instead of saying the truth, I pulled Allie's hand into my lap and held it with both of mine, stroking her skin in a comforting motion.

I heard her sniff and I knew she was crying. It upset her that they were covering up the truth. No one believed that the Dark Lord had returned but someone still believed that Allie was the one who killed him.

Rita Skeeter was still writing about it in every paper she published. There kept being one page dedicated to Cedric's death and how Allie was a suspect.

If Rita Skeeter wasn't a woman, I would have found her and punched her right in the face just for thinking my Allie could have anything to do with that.

Towards the end of the ceremony, guests could form a line to say their final goodbyes to Cedric. Marco was the first one to stand, then Allie followed, holding onto my hand. We all walked up there together in the line.

The first time Allie let go of my hand since we arrived was when he grabbed the edges of the casket and looked down at him. He was dressed in his quidditch uniform which was what he would want to be buried in and his wand was in his hand.

All witches and wizards are buried with their wand.

I said my goodbye to Cedric before waiting for Allie. She stared down at him, tears silently running down her cheeks while she had her lips pressed together to stop them from trembling.

Marco had an arm wrapped around her while saying some words to their mutual friend. It was hard for the both of them but it was a good thing that they had each other. They had a hard time leaning on each other when it came to emotions, but it would be healthy for their friendship if they tried.

"It's not fucking fair." Allie then said in a whisper, staring at Cedric. "He loved life and he was a good person. Why did he have to die?"

She took a deep breath before she let out a very quiet sob.