In the Melancholy Moonlight

Chapter LXXXV: Dear Cedric,

August 1, 1995

Dear Cedric,

   It's Henry.

   I've written you several letters in the past six years or so, over summers or for Christmas.

   But I've only written one other letter than I knew you'd never read.

   That letter is in your pillowcase now, back at your house. I think Lucy had a guess as to what it said, but if she did, she didn't tell me.

   I hope she's alright. I wrote a letter a couple weeks ago, but I haven't heard back yet. My parents haven't heard from hers, either. Dad said your dad hasn't come to work the past couple of days, but he missed a week at the beginning of July, too, so he's not too worried. It's just odd that he didn't let anyone know he was taking a bit of a break. Everyone understands, of course — I wouldn't feel like going to work, either. I can barely get out of bed some days.

   Having Gretchen around helps. She's still excited about going to Hogwarts in September, so it's fun telling her about everything she'll get to experience, from Quidditch matches to common room parties to late-night study sessions with friends in the library to the legendary Weasley twins pranks on April Fool's Day.

   Call me crazy, but sometimes I genuinely forget you won't be there. It's as if it's so unfathomable that you won't be there next year that my brain just... refuses to accept it. Refuses to even acknowledge it. I'll be telling Gretchen about something and in my mind I see us together when it happens next year, and I don't even realize you won't be there until later. I literally can't imagine going back without you, Ced.

   It doesn't matter how many times I try to let you go. You always come back to me. In dreams, in reality. I was cleaning my room the other day and found a picture of us from first year. I tucked it into the back of a random book and put it on a bookshelf downstairs. It hurt too much. I miss you too much. Most days, I'm just trying to get through the day. I still miss you too much to try to remember you.

   I should probably go back to homework. I just started it yesterday, and I have a lot to do before school starts again. But a girl at your funeral, Luna, specifically sought me out and told me that writing letters to you would help me feel a little less alone. And I don't know yet if she was right, because the thought of you never reading this letter just kills me inside, but I do feel a little bit better.

   I miss you, Cedric. I hope you're happy, wherever you are. You deserve that.

      Love, Henry