In the Melancholy Moonlight

Chapter LXXXI: Rose

July 24, 1995

IN MEMORIAM: CEDRIC DIGGORY

   While the Daily Prophet may be silent, I refuse. My name is Susan Diggory.

   My son should be sitting across from me at the kitchen table right now, telling me excitedly about the transfigurations he will learn come September when he returns for his seventh year of Hogwarts. He should have spent the morning outside flying with his sister, Lucy, training for the upcoming Quidditch season. He should be welcoming his father home from work in an hour or two. But he is not here. I am alone at the table. Lucy spent the morning in her room journaling in an attempt to understand this horrific grief at only fifteen. His father will return from work and immediately go up to our bedroom. We have been eating every meal in our bedrooms; the sight of his empty chair at the proper dining table is too much to take.

   One month ago, on the evening of June 24, I hugged my son for what I did not realize — could not have known — was the last time. Seventeen years old, with bright eyes and a smile for everyone he met, Cedric, a Triwizard Tournament competitor, was a light to this world, and our home will forever be darkened by his absence.

   His light should still be here.

   His light was extinguished by Voldemort.

   I know you do not believe me. I know you do not want to believe me. But the longer you doubt me, the stronger he will become.

   I was an Auror for many years, retiring only to raise my family. I am re-joining the forces once Lucy returns to Hogwarts. Cedric was taken from us, and I will do everything in my power to ensure that nobody else suffers the way we have at the hands of Voldemort.

   Not again.

   In this matter, silence is cowardice with no guarantee of safety. The longer the Ministry is silent, the longer the wizarding population as a whole is silent, the stronger he will grow in secret. Your silence will not spare you in matters of life and death.

   Lives are on the line. Yours. Mine. Your spouse's. My spouse's. Your daughter's. My daughter's. Your son's.

   My son's.

   Silence and denial will only make Voldemort stronger.

   You may have noticed that I am no longer afraid to say his name.

   I would rather face my fears with boldness than hesitance if it claims my life just the same.

   I hope you make the same choice.

LUCY:

I was downstairs buttering a slice of toast for dinner when someone knocked on the door.

I froze. Nobody had come to the door since Cedric's funeral. I set the knife down and hurried upstairs to where Mum was staring at a picture on the wall. I made a point of looking only at her — I knew the picture was of Cedric teaching me to fly.

"Er, Mum," I stammered. "Someone's at the door."

She didn't look as alarmed as I expected she'd be. She didn't even look away from the picture. "I told her how to bypass the protective enchantments. You can answer it. She's here to talk to you, after all."