𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍 | 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘞𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘺

Chapter 81 - In his memory

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Love is fragile as a frozen leaf

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The Great Hall which was usually adorned with the winning House's colours for the Leaving Feast was decorated with black drapes on the wall behind the teachers' table. Betelgeuse knew that they were there as a mark of respect to Cedric.

The authentic Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table, his wooden leg and magical eye back in place. He was excessively twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. The Black could not blame him; Moody's fear of attack was bound to have been increased by his ten-month imprisonment in his own trunk. Professor Karkaroff's chair was empty. Betelgeuse slightly frowned wondering as she sat down with the other Gryffindors where Karkaroff was currently and whether Voldemort had caught up with him.

Madame Maxime was still there, sitting next to Hagrid. They were speaking quietly together. Further along, sitting next to Professor McGonagall was Snape. Betelgeuse saw his eyes linger on Harry for a moment. His expression was difficult to read. He looked as sour and unpleasant as ever. She knew of the close friendship her father had with Severus Snape, but she could not comprehend how Dumbledore was so convinced that Snape was truly on their side.

If not for her father's judgment, Betelgeuse would be certain of Snape's loyalty to the Dark Lord.

If Albus Dumbledore reassures someone about something, they should be concerned.

Betelgeuse's musings were ended by Professor Dumbledore, who stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was at the Leaving Feast, became very quiet.

"The end," Dumbledore announced, looking around at them all, "of another year."

He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," Dumbledore continued, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."

They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Cedric Diggory."

Betelgeuse heard sniffling coming from various parts of the room, someone was openly crying. She firmly set her jaw, fixing her cold grey eyes on something on the Gryffindor table in front of her that was not really there.

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff House," Dumbledore resumed. "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."

Betelgeuse raised her head and stared at Dumbledore.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence. Betelgeuse raised one perfect-shaped eyebrow.