homesick ☆ f.weasley

.:42:.

"Cedric is dead," Angelina announced. She looked drained and like she would never be healthy again.

Emmeline shot up instantly. Please let this be some kind of sick joke. "What?" she asked in a very small voice, begging for some verification.

Angelina nodded, tears brewing in her eyes as she tried to shift the image of Cedric out of her mind. He was nothing but a hastily assembled set of bones, sprawled out on the Quidditch pitch. Everyone was shocked such a talented player had fallen during a simple friendly game the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors had set up for some practise. Everyone was even more shocked when they realised how seriously hurt he was. He wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing. They had summoned Madame Pomfrey, and then St.Mungo's when she saw how detrimental his condition was. The Hogwarts nurse estimated his condition was fatal but though she felt it was futile, she had to at least try.
To her horror, her prediction was correct. The boy was dead.

The news swept through the castle like a dementor, encapsulating everyone in a blanket of sadness and disbelief. They held a funeral at the castle. It was his home so it made the most sense for it to be here. His family had turned up to the castle especially. It made it seem more real. This was it. He was never coming back. Emmeline had spent the best part of a year obsessed with him. It was weird, seeing his lifeless body and knowing she will never speak to him again. He had so much of his life ahead of him and now it was gone, forever, in the blink of an eye.

Lessons were still running, Dumbledore was desperate to accomplish some sort of normality amongst the chaos. However, the classes were mostly empty, the students craving a distraction exempt from this. Death had a funny way of taking everything that was normal in your life and completely shaking it up. Life was fragile and Emmeline could see the impact one person could have on so many people.

That night, she couldn't sleep at all and Fred invited her into his bed. The two of them were stuffed into his single, four poster bed in silence. Neither of them knew what to say. What was there to say? They were in shock but being together somehow made it feel a bit better. Emmeline focused on Fred's chest rising and falling from breathing. Fred was gently braiding a few strands of her blonde hair that had blossomed out of her ponytail. Everyone could tell the severity of the situation by the fact that Fred hadn't said a single joke since he witnessed what happened. No jokes had crossed his mind. It was empty except from an insurmountable sadness.

The next day, Emmeline had a weight in a stomach. It took her a few seconds to remember the cause but then all of a sudden, it all came flooding back. The grief pulled her back into bed. She remained there, next to Fred, until dusk began sweeping across the sky casting a soft orange glow in Fred's dorm room. Deciding she needed a change of scenery, she told Fred she was going to go on a walk around the castle. He offered to go with her but she declined, craving some time she could spend alone with her thoughts.

She had toured the castle twice when she decided she needed to use the bathroom. Since she was closest to the one near the Slytherin dungeon she decided she would slip into that one. She was about ready to leave when a commotion made her stop in her tracks. Recognising the voices immediately as Vivienne and Velma's, she decided to remain in the cubicle. She wanted to avoid any sort of confrontation and wrapped her feet around the toilet seat so they couldn't idenitfy she was there if they saw her feet under the door. She was shocked to hear that a third voice was a male's, this was the female toilets after all.  They seemed to be too preoccuiped as Vivienne was sobbing and Velma was doing everything she could to try and calm her down. At first, Emmeline assumed that not even bullies were excluded from the destruction death caused but as she listened closer, she was horrified as their secrets began to unravel.

"No one suspects a thing, they all assume it was an accident," a cold voice drawled. It unmistakeabley belonged to Draco, who enjoyed taunting the students of Hogwarts with them. His alligence with Vivienne no doubt stemmed from their distant relation.

"I know but he was such a talented player... I never meant for this to happen. I just wanted to do what Veronica wanted," Vivienne wailed. Emmeline almost gasped and her heart was pounding in her chest. Listening closer, it didn't take long for her to piece together what they were talking about.

"Veronica is in France now," Velma pointed out, as though Vivienne didn't already know that.

"Yes, I know," snapped Vivienne. "But she was really angry that Cedric declined her. She's never been turned down before and she asked me to embarrass him somehow so he would know how it felt. She trusted me to save her reputation and I did it but I cleary jinxed him whilst he was too high in the air and he lost control."

"Does Veronica know?" Draco pressed.

Vivienne nodded. "She said to stop being so stupid and I won't get caught. But I could go to prison! I can't do that! I saw how bad Sirius Black looked after being in Azkaban, that can't happen to me!"

Emmeline thought that Vivienne's cries had been remorse for killing Cedric. But, selfishly, she was only concerned in how it would affect her. She sat at his funeral, watching Diggory's parents mourn the loss of their son, feeling nothing but sorry for herself. Emmeline knew all to well how cruel they could be but this was a whole new level. This was murder. She had been so trapped in her whirling mind that she hadn't realised her quill was slipping out of her robe pockets. She desperately clawed the air to catch it but it bounced off the floor with a clatter. She held her breath.

"Who's there?" Vivienne shouted in a much steadier voice.

Emmeline's eyes were wide as she struggled to come up with a conclusion to what she should do.

"Umm, it's only me. Pansy," she said back, doing her best to resemble Pansy's gruff tone. Before she had time to worry about whether her impression was convincing enough, the door was blasted open. She was looking into the eyes of a killer. What was she going to do?