Before The Past

Ch. 26

Rows of chairs faced the front of the Great hall. Everyone, even the professors sat facing this way. There was simply one chair left in the area that usually has many chairs. Sitting in this single chair was our headmaster Dumbledore. He sat in silence, as did the rest of us. 

The room was dark, and everyone's black clothes added to the gloominess. The tension in the air was like no other, but this was like no other time. Never had there been a funeral held in the Great Hall of Hogwarts school. Never has this school had to commemorate a student who innocently died in a tragic tournament. 

"Today we face, a really terrible loss." Dumbledore finally spoke. 

He got up unsteadily, walking to his stand while also talking as he did so. He gave a speech on Cedric Diggory, who had been killed by the Dark Lord. Someone who everyone refused to believe is back, someone who was now feared more than ever. A new era was about to begin, one that will lead to war, tragedy and great loss. One that nobody could ever predict the severity of. 

The rest of the year was draining. It was as if the tournament had slowly been sucking everything out of the school. It was like a dementor taking away everything joyful and slowly filling our heads with more and more devastation. The final event was the last straw, and we had all grown victim to the darkness of death and fear. 

Harry had once again became the talk of the school. People doubted what he had seen, and he grew less and less fond of. Despite winning the tournament, nobody was excited about it, not even him. We began hanging out more, talking longer and later. We would spend hours talking about what happened, how Harry felt, and what the future meant. 

Most of the conversation was about him, and I often wondered whether or not it was because I felt guilty, or I truly just needed someone to be with to distract me. Either way our friendship was growing into simply an escape for each other. We didn't talk, hang out, or even act like normal friends. We never acknowledged each other during school, but once dinner was over we were immediately somewhere quiet, ranting about everything. 

Every time he mentioned what happened, or anything about Diggory I felt a huge amount of guilt. I wanted to tell him everything, what I saw, what I knew, but I also knew that no matter how I said it, he wouldn't take it very well. 

"Am I lying?" Harry asked one day. 

"No. I've told you a million times, and it doesn't matter what everyone else thinks, they weren't there. You know what happened and that's all that matters. They'll find out soon enough I'm sure." I responded. 

"But how can you be so sure, why do you trust me so much?" 

I looked at him, I could see the pain in his eyes, the doubt and the hesitation. I saw it everyday. He asked me the same thing, over and over. It hurt to see him so doubtful and untrusting, but I understood why he felt that way. 

I sighed and placed my hand on his shoulder. 

"I'm not sure, but I know that I can trust you. You're the only one who has proven to be trustworthy to me." I smiled. 

He smiled at me and sat, looking up at the ceiling. We were in the girls bathroom where the chamber of secrets' entrance was. Myrtle had allowed us to stay in there without disturbing us, but she also talked to us occasionally as well. We sat in silence for a while, knowing that we only had a week left of school. 

After this week, I would come home to a life I may never come back from. I won't have any contact with Harry, and I'll be forced to talk to the others. What would my parents think of me? Do they already know about my protesting and friendship with Harry? 

My biggest fear of all was what was going to happen now that the Dark Lord was back. Unlike Harry who could tell me about all of his worries, I couldn't say a word. I'd have to constantly make something up to even express the emotions I was feeling. The conversations became more and more one sided, and I felt as though I was being crammed into a tiny box. I could sense the box getting smaller and smaller, not being able to move or do anything without damaging it.