Redhead || George x reader || y/n Lestrange

Chapter 55

"THATS MY SON!"

The screech echoed from the top of the arena as it fell to where you and Harry were standing. It was painful, and with each tearful crack in his voice it shattered your heart into smaller and smaller pieces.

"THAT MY BOY!"

Amos Diggory ran across the dewy grass from the late evening rain, panting toward you. Toward Cedric. To his son.

His knees fell to the ground, his eyes locked on the cold and frozen body that was once the warm Cedric Diggory. Tears fell heavily down his face, down his cheeks and added to the droplets of water on the blades of grass. His hand cupped his dear sons cheek as he leaned in to look closer at his son, only hoping that a ray of life would jolt his heavy eyes awake and meet his fathers gaze one last time.

When he was met with no response, he leaned in, curling into a sorrowful ball over his son.

"My boy..."

                ______________________

For what felt like many long and painfully still hours, you stared, frozen at the dead body of an almost friend, and his broken father.

Amos Diggorys tears and voice cracks broke your soul to its very core. Each tear, scream, cry and wail added another and another crack in the heavily guarded and fortified heart of y/n Lestrange.

And yet, somehow, with each crack and wail and scream, not from Amos but from you, something in the deepest part of your body began to fade and disperse. Float into the emptiness you wished was available. Every emotion was so prominent, so sharp and present, it was almost as though you has decided you didn't deserve to care.

With every part of your being that was fading away, the distant part of your emotions that remained, remained still. As still as Cedric was. As still as you had to be, because deep down, you knew, this was your fault.

Your eyes fluttered across Cedrics still face. His warm and sun kissed skin was nearly purple and a ghostly white. His kind eyes looked at nothing, except the endless sky. His hand was limp, and yet his father was holding as tight as he wished Cedric could return.

Your breathing was slow, almost not present. But with one involuntary breath, a shallow stream of foggy air released into the night, and from all you could remember, that was the last breath you wanted to take.

"I..." you continued, breathless.

"Sorry..."

Nobody was listening.

"I couldn't..." tears began to choke up.

"I should have...and I didn't..."

Your eyes didn't have to leave Cedrics to know that the entire arena of witches and wizards has their eyes on you. Not in anything but suspicion, perhaps a tinge of fear.

You were scared to look up, because if you did and one of those suspicious, fearful eyes was George's...

Then you truly were the monster everyone said you were.