Letters To A Friend (Draco Malfoy Fanfiction)

II.

It was common knowledge that Cedric and I were exceptionally close—everyone in Hufflepuff, and frankly the whole school, knew it. If he wasn't with his year-mates, he was with me, at least until late last year when he met Cho.

Cho Chang. A Ravenclaw, same year as me. We'd shared classes before, but our interactions were minimal. That changed once Cedric and Cho started seeing each other. She began making an effort, striking up conversations in class or whenever we crossed paths around the school. It didn't take long to understand why Cedric was drawn to her—she was clever, pretty, and an outstanding Quidditch player. Perfect, really. She fit right into Cedric's life. Not that he didn't already have a Quidditch partner in me—we'd been that way for years.

Cedric... How do I even begin to describe him?

He wasn't just a friend; he was a part of me. Cedric had this way of brightening everything simply by being there. His smile could light up the darkest days, and his laugh—it was infectious. He was kind, fiercely loyal, and he had this uncanny ability to make everyone around him feel like they truly mattered. It wasn't just that he was popular or talented; it was that he genuinely cared. Like, really cared.

In so many ways, Cedric was the sort of person everyone wanted to be around. He had an effortless charm, a natural ability to lead without making a fuss about it. Whether on the Quidditch pitch or just hanging out, he had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the room. And to me, he always had been. He understood me better than anyone, even when I didn't understand myself. I suppose you could say Cedric was the only person who truly saw me.

Being the sixth child in a family of nine, and not exactly well-off, life wasn't always easy. But Cedric was always there. He lived just down the hill, and since we were little, we'd spent hours playing Quidditch together—until he got his Hogwarts letter when I was nine. He was two years older, and I was convinced that once he went to Hogwarts, he'd forget all about me. I imagined him surrounded by new friends, and I always felt a bit dull in comparison. But, despite my fears, he never forgot.

When my own Hogwarts letter finally arrived, Cedric was already at our house, as if he'd known it was coming. I'll never forget his face when the owl flew through the kitchen window, letter in tow. His grin was so wide it could've lit up the whole room. And that grin only got bigger when the Sorting Hat placed me in Hufflepuff. He was the loudest voice cheering in the Great Hall. For a brief moment, I felt like my world had shattered when I wasn't sorted into the same house as my brothers, but Cedric made everything alright.

Over the years, we were inseparable. We shared countless memories—late nights in the library, Quidditch matches with him as Seeker and me as Chaser, and quiet moments in the common room, just the two of us or with friends. Cedric's presence was a constant comfort, his support unwavering. He was there for every triumph, every challenge—whether it was schoolwork or dealing with those Slytherin gits. Cedric was always there with a smile or a laugh when I needed it most.

But everything changed in my fifth year. The Triwizard Tournament had begun, and Cedric was thrilled to be chosen. When his name was called, I couldn't have been prouder, though a part of me was terrified. Watching him compete was both exhilarating and frightening. And then came the final task. I remember waiting, praying he'd come back safely. When he finally did, with Harry Potter by his side, something had changed. The weight of it was unmistakable.

Cedric's death was a blow I still struggle to comprehend. It felt as though the world had stopped turning, as if all the colour had drained from it. He was gone, and with him, a piece of me. The memories of his laughter, his smile, his kindness—they feel so distant now, like a dream I can barely remember. I cling to those moments, desperate to hold on to something real, but nothing feels whole anymore. Not without him.

His absence is a void that can never be filled, a stark reminder of how fleeting and precious life is. Cedric's legacy, though, is one of warmth and friendship, and even though he's no longer here, his impact is everywhere in my life. Yet, I've forgotten how to carry on without him.