Chapter 44 - Image and confidence

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"Are you okay?" Cedric asked when she came back in.

He took her coat and hung it up for her while she shook the snow off her shoes. It was nice to be back in the warm.

"Yes." She said, kissing him to reassure him. "I was never in real danger."

Percy rose briskly.

"If you're done, Megan, I'll join the Minister. Good day to you all."

"But Percy..." Began Mrs Weasley.

"Sorry, mother, I must leave."

And Percy strode out with barely a glance at his family. Megan pretended not to notice the look of pain on Mrs Weasley's face, or the flashes of anger on the others'.

"Well, if everyone's finished, give me some room so I can clean up..." Molly eventually said, in a slightly forced cheerful voice.

So Megan and the others headed back upstairs and gathered in the girls' room, while Ginny and the twins headed outside.

"Well, that could have gone worse," Ron said. "No shouting at least."

"D'you think your mother will be okay?" Megan asked Ron.

He sighed.

"She'll probably be a bit touchy for a while, but I think so. Probably relieved to see him in one piece, I suppose."

Megan sighed too. She hoped someday they would work this out.

"What did the Minister want?" Cedric asked when Percy had gone, taking Megan's hand as they sat down.

"To use me as a mascot for the Ministry." she said, rolling her eyes.

Harry snorted.

"After dragging you in the mud all last year? That's rich."

"Yes, I did remind him of that."

"Why the change of hear then, d'you reckon?" Ron asked.

"It's obvious: because they now have to admit she was right, and want to make the Ministry look good. To make people think they're doing things." Hermione said bitterly. "He's as bad as Fudge was..."

"I wouldn't go that far, but he's certainly not all that much better as far as I can tell," Megan said. "Anyway, he thinks it would "lift people's spirits" if I was working with the Ministry. According to him, I represent everyone's hopes."

"Well, you do," Cedric replied. "Whether you're the Chosen One or not, you've fought Voldemort again and again, and every time, you've come up on top. It's bound to make people wonder."

"I got lucky... and I had all of you..." Megan argued.

"But you still did it." Cedric said. "You never saw yourself clearly. You're so used to being torn down you don't realise how strong and incredible you are."

"It's true," Hermione said. "You always keep a... a kind of aura of strength, even when you're covered in blood, sad, in danger or scared."

Megan had never heard herself described this way. She wasn't sure what to think. She was more used to being looked down upon than look up to.

"Why d'you think Dumbledore's so involved in your defeating Voldemort?"

Megan shook her head.

"... Voldemort's evil, it's got nothing to do with me..."

"No, Megan, it's because he cares about you," Cedric argued gently. "Remember when he saw us after they fought in the Ministry? Remember when he told us why you'd ended up going there? Because he cared too much about you. He was trying to shield you from further hardship."

Megan glanced out the window into the white snow. She hadn't seen it like that... but she knew one thing: she would live her life, however short it may be, on her terms, and hers alone. And as long as Cedric and her friends were with her, she knew she'd be okay.

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