Cedric Diggory Imagines

Gone

couldnt find who this was by, ill update if i find it

That night was irritated by stars; they were barely a glance away, behind the window. The end of the school year was approaching and despite your efforts to make this year your year, you only mildly succeeded. The last batch of homework needed doing and so you sat around the Hufflepuff common room, by one of the few tables next to the lazily flicking flames of the fireplace. You had been busy, engrossed in the seemingly never ending small text that explained the complexities of herbs you had trouble pronouncing, when he had showed up and all of your plans to finish early were thrown out the same window those stars twinkled so beautifully. Cedric was always sweet. To you especially. He was raised a gentleman and with you it showed most- whilst with his friends he was more loose, goofy even, when you were around he chose his words carefully and never missed a chance to accidentally touch you - was it to simply carry your bag and let his fingers graze your own as you passed the strap, or pull you into a group hug when Hufflepuff won in Quidditch. To say the least, it wasn't that surprising that he suddenly approached you.

The stars started to fade. Slowly, the sky inked with violet and red. You laugh echoed in the Common room. The two of you were sitting close with your knees barely touching, had discussed summer plans all night with lingering excitement in your voices despite being tired. He smiled sheepishly; resting his head in his palm as he nearly hogged the whole table, his elbow placed on your half-finished essay. It had been long forgotten admits the conversation. The charred wood in the fireplace stirred.

Cedric watched you closely, behind the sleepy daze of his eyes lied some sort of mixture of intense emotions he could only portray wordlessly; watched the way the lamps magically dimmed and let the morning light touch the delicate features of your face. Pleasant silence had settled.

"Say, (Name)..." A question rose in his mind and without thought he voiced it. You blinked, shaking the sleep off and humming softly, "Are you... are you going to the Quidditch World Cup?"

You smiled sadly, "No, I couldn't...afford tickets..." You murmured, clearing your throat and suddenly in desperate need to do something with your hands instead of just letting them sit there. You fiddled with the papers, the quill, let your mind get distracted as he thought and re-thought his words.

"My dad works in the Ministry, he could get you a ticket." He said. You stopped putting away your books, "I'd like you to go. With me." He wasn't as confident as he pretended to be, the strange shift in his voice betrayed him. Your heart leaped in your chest and you grinned.

Those two words, 'with me', were telling of their own and when he asked you out a second time, truly asked you out, it was as smooth as he had hoped for and as genuine as you had wished.

It's dark. The night is irritated by stars. You sit still on the stone steps leaning up to the astronomy tower, a soft sniffle escaping you as you stare into the distance with no particular direction in mind. It's cold, so high up. The only warmth that greets you is Hermione's hand that rubs your shoulder lovingly, a frown knitting her brows together as her shushes and caring words fell on deaf ears. You gulp - your throat is dry and the lump that forms in the very middle makes it hard to breath.

"I-I just..." You rasp, turning to look at Hermione, "I just don't understand...How can someone just not be here anymore?"

Cedric died. And there is nothing in this world that you or anyone else in the world could've done to save him.