Hogwarts Love Story pt 36

Though I know that I promised you all part thirty-six before the end of July, I'm a few days late. Sue me. At least I didn't leave it six months this time!

Last time the battle at the Department of Mysteries continued, and fifth year ended with some strange behaviour from Draco. And... That's basically it.

Created by: vulturemonem

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Our "When Will I Die" Quiz?

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  1. *vulturemonem* I know. I'm a horrible person. I swore I'd have this part out by the end of July. It's now August. But at least I'm only a few days late. And I've actually managed to update three times in less than two months! Whoop! Anyway, this part begins a brand new year, and a brand new load of drama. I'm really excited to start writing this year, but I'm also terrified. Somehow, I think it's one that holds a huge weight of expectation as it's one of the darkest, most interesting books in the original series. So, I hope this kicks off ok! xXx
  2. I opened my window wide for my owl to fly through into my bedroom, a Prophet and a letter dangling from her leg. I stroked Sepia's beak, and then began to untie the string attaching my mail to her leg. Just as I sat down to unroll the paper, there was a holler from downstairs. I let out a huff and tossed my things back onto my bed, darting downstairs to where my mother had called to myself and my sister. I exchanged looks with Ariella as we sat down in the living room opposite my parents, who both looked extremely serious. They were wearing their overly-worried faces. They'd been coping Ariella and myself up all summer, and I'd had to fight hard to get myself out to see Cedric the day before he went off to the Ministry to begin training. I was fed up of being house-bound, and so was Ariella. I knew that my parents were worried after I'd told them briefly, through a letter, about the events of the Department of Mysteries, but they were reacting far more violently to the news than Hermione's parents. Both myself and my muggle-born friend had kept the details out, and had barely spoken of the horrific wizarding battle that had ensued, but my parents seemed to have realised that there was far more that myself and my sister weren't saying.
  3. My mother and father looked at each other, communicating silently. I felt like a very typical teenage girl as I wished more than anything to huff, puff, sigh, and complain. I refrained. My mother was the first to speak. "Cailey, Ariella, your father and I know that things in your world have been somewhat difficult lately, and—" I cut my mother off. "Please don't beat around the bush, Mum." I loved my parents whole-heartedly, but I was tired of their games that summer. Clearly, they were discussing things they didn't want Ariella and I to know, but the glances, hushed voices, worried looks - it was all driving me mad. My mother pursed her lips at me. "You didn't tell us just how severe things have been getting, Cailey," she said. I raised an eyebrow. "You know this how?" My mother flushed slightly. "I saw your paper." "So you've been snooping in my room. Fine. I get it," I snapped, suddenly angry. What else had she seen? Had she read all my letters too? My letters to and from Cedric, the Golden Trio, Lupin? "We guessed that there was something more you weren't telling us," my father said soothingly. "While we appreciate that you think you can look after yourself and take care of things yourself, you clearly can't." "Oh?" I spat. "And how did you come to that conclusion?" "The articles in your papers over the past few weeks," my mother replied. "Your 'small misunderstanding' at that hall of crystals was a full-blown battle. I will not allow my daughters to go gallivanting off into danger like that! Not only was You-Know-Who himself there, but his followers! You could have been killed! And that man, Sirius Black, killed by his own cousin! It's not on, Cailey. You can't keep doing this. First running off to find some stone, then into hidden caves under the school, then off to locate a murderer, then to watch people die in a maze - don't think we don't know about that - and now this! It has got to stop!" "Firstly, I was never on my own doing those things, and secondly, doing things like that prepare me for the real world! I'm times like these people die, and people have to fight to live!" "The real world?" My mother looked at me incredulously. "Yeah, well," I squirmed uncomfortably. "This has to stop," my mother said flatly. "If the only way to stop this is to stop your involvement with Hogwarts, then so be it." What? I leapt up, radiating fury as I glared at my mother. Did she not realise how big a mistake this would be? "No. Just no. Hogwarts is the only place we can learn to defend ourselves. We are too deep in this to pull out now. And if you think that muggles won't be affected by this war too, then you're deluding yourselves. We have to to back to school." My mother shook her head. I groaned in exasperation, and turned to my father. "Surely you can see that going to school is the right thing to do?" I demanded. "Well, perhaps—" "No? Ok, fine. Let me put it simply for you. Last year, Cedric and Harry taught the DA how to fight because our teacher, like you, thought that 'children' had no business in battles and wars. But if I, and the rest of the DA, hadn't learnt what we did last year, then I wouldn't be here. I. Would. Be. Dead. Simple as. If I hadn't learnt what I have in defence over my school life I would be dead ten times over. That's how it is in times like these. Voldermort is back now, and I can't help to protect myself or this family if I'm stuck doing algebra and Shakespeare at a muggle school." I was breathing hard by the time I'd finished, and was looking from my mother to my father. While I was still utterly furious with my mother particularly for snooping around in my room, there were more important matters. Like the survival of this family.
  4. My father spoke before my mother could. "We're worried, Cailey. We understand that you want to play the hero, but—" "This has nothing to do with that," Ariella said, speaking for the first time. "It's not about playing the hero. If you've read the Prophet, then you know that Harry Potter has got to kill Voldermort before Voldermort kills everyone else. And his friends have got to help him. Cailey is his friend. She can't help from behind a computer screen." My father gave Ariella and I a long hard look. "Why do you two both say his name when nobody else does?" he asked finally. "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," I said, lips curling upwards at the memory of Hermione's words to Draco Malfoy many years ago when things had been simpler. "I concede," my father said. "I trust your judgement. If you think that this is going to help you, which it sounds like it will, then there is no reason to stop you going back to school. Besides, you're seventeen in September," he added, nodding to me. "So?" My mother was glaring at my father, clearly feeling betrayed. "She's an adult in her world," my father said. "You two can go." "I presume I can still go to the Weasleys'?" I asked. "Yes. Off you go."
  5. Thankful that disaster had been averted, I returned to my bedroom, flopped back on my bed, and picked up the morning's edition of the Prophet. I sighed audibly as I saw, yet again, Harry's picture on the front page, followed by speculations about 'the Chosen One'. I didn't even bother reading through the article. I'd read so many of them over the last two weeks that I couldn't bring myself to read another. Instead, I flicked through the paper until I found some more information about the new Minister, Rufus Scrimgeour. I almost rolled my eyes when they mentioned Umbridge, who had miraculously managed to maintain a senior position in the Ministry, and turned to the next page. I frowned when I saw the serious, moving face of Cedric Diggory looking back at me, and sucked in a gasp at the title of the article: AUROR-IN-TRAINING MISSING IN ACTION. Sure that the title couldn't be referring to Cedric, and that he had to link to the story in some other way, I began to frantically read the first column. I choked back a sob as I read the confirmation that it was Cedric who had disappeared over the last three days. He'd last been seen by his parents - and before that myself, just less than a week ago - and hadn't returned home for three days. There were various comments from others that had been working alongside Cedric and training him, but the words on the paper had begun to blur as tears swam in my eyes. How on Earth was this possible? Why did it have to be Cedric? Yes, people were going missing regularly now, but why one of the people I cared about most in the world? Why one of the kindest, most talented wizards that could be? I hadn't even said goodbye to Cedric properly. Our last meeting was supposed to be the day before I went to the Weasley house, the last time I'd likely see him for some months, but now I wouldn't have that final chance to say goodbye, or to tell him that I loved him. I threw the Prophet aside in disgust, and screwed my eyes shut as I tried not to cry more. I didn't like crying, even in the privacy of my own bedroom, but I couldn't even begin to describe the inexplicable agony I felt at what I'd just read in that damn newspaper.
  6. I took a deep breath, but Cedric's face continued to flit through my mind. A voice in my head was screaming at me, telling me that he wasn't dead, and to stop acting like he was, but the rest of me didn't see the difference. When people went missing in times like these, it was only so long before they were found dead. It was a miracle that it had even made the Prophet - albeit the article was near the back. Perhaps it was because Cedric was a young Auror-in-training that his disappearance had caused more of a stir. A searing pain ripped through my chest as I realised that I would, most likely, never see my boyfriend again. Never again laugh with him, talk to him, receive letters from him. Never again feel the reassurance of his touch or the strength of his gaze. As the thoughts spilt through my head, something inside me snapped. My eyes flew open, and I threw the nearest object to hand at the wall, hard. Unfortunately, this object was a hardback book I'd been reading the previous night, and it left a horrible mark on my wall. The crash as it fell to the floor stirred my fury, and I let out a scream, clutching at my hair as I tried, and failed, to choke back sobs. My bedroom door was opened tentatively, and I saw my mother standing there, looking at me with a worried expression on her face. Before she could open her mouth to speak, her eyes fell to the newspaper that was still lying on my bed, open at Cedric's picture. Her eyes scanned over the page, and pity filled her expression. That only made me angrier at the world. I didn't want her pity! I pushed my mother away when she tried to lay a comforting arm around my shoulders, wanting to wallow in my sorrow alone. "Just leave me alone," I managed to get out, jerking my hand towards the door. My mother glanced at the mark on my wall, then at the book on the floor, and sighed softly before she left my bedroom, leaving me alone. I dropped my head into my hands, forcing back every tear and every thought of Cedric Diggory. I never had understood the term 'crying something out'. Crying about something only made me think of it more, and then made me sadder, and cry more, only to make me think of it even more. It was an endless cycle. Instead, I turned to the letter that I had received that morning. Tearing it open, I saw that my second letter was from Remus Lupin. Though I had no idea why, my relationship with Remus had gone from friendly acquaintances to something more fatherly. Since discussing Harry's summer via owl post over the last couple of months of term, we had exchanged letters more frequently. It was incredibly comforting to have an adult in the wizarding world that cared. I had spoken to Sirius before his death at the Ministry that June, but Remus was able to keep me updated in ways the Sirius and the Prophet were not, due to a) not being house-bound, and b) being a part of the Order. Remus' letter to me was speaking of the recent capture of another woman that had worked for the Ministry, which had not yet made the papers. To my surprise, he also told me that he would be at the Weasley home by the time I arrived the following morning.
  7. The following morning, trunk packed, Sepia in her cage, and broomstick strategically hidden, I said goodbye to my parents and sister and began the journey to The Burrow via train. While it wouldn't have been all that difficult to contact somebody from the Order to apparate me there, I wasn't sure that my parents would appreciate having them in their house early in the morning. Besides, sitting on a train gave me plenty of time to dwell on things that weren't related to Cedric. Like Rebecca Gardener, and all the horrible things she could do now she had Cedric's disappearance as leverage. Or Draco's strange behaviour at the end of the previous year. It was plenty to keep me occupied.
  8. When I arrived at the Weasley house, the first person to see me was Ginny Weasley. She grinned at me, and I gave her a hug in greeting. "Thank God you're here," she said, sighing. I frowned. "Why?" "Her," Ginny groaned. "Who?" I asked, bewildered. "Phlegm," Hermione supplied from behind Ginny, smiling at me. "Who's Phlegm?" I stared from Ginny to Hermione, just as Ron came down and said hello, quickly followed by Mrs Weasley, and— "Cailey!" exclaimed a very beautiful, very French voice. Before I could register that Fleur Delacour was in the room, I was surrounded by silvery-blonde hair, caught in Fleur's hug. She pulled away, beaming at me. "It is so good to see you!" Fleur said. "You too, Fleur," I said, confused. There was clearly something here that I wasn't getting. "Ah, you do not know," Fleur deduced. "Bill and I – we are to be married!" Ah. Now. It made sense. Even the Phlegm nickname made sense now. "Congratulations," I said with a smile and what I hoped was the appropriate amount of enthusiasm. While I was, truly, pleased for Fleur, I was not in the mood for her joyful Frenchness. I wanted to talk to my friends about what was going on in the world, I wanted to forget about Cedric and Draco and Rebecca and all the other rubbish going on in my life.
  9. Finally, the conversation and chit-chat in the small living room was halted by the front door opening and closing. I spun around, and saw Harry James Potter standing in the doorway, a spider crawling across his shoulder. His eyes met mine, and before I could think about it, I tackled my friend in a hug, pleased beyond belief to see him. Out of all the people in that room, Harry was the only person that knew how I felt, having just lost Cedric. Harry muttered an apology in my ear as we parted, shot me a smile, and allowed the rest of our friends to fuss over him. The celebrations were broken up by the arrival of an owl carrying post that was clearly from Hogwarts. My heart thudded as Mrs Weasley handed round letters realising that these letters would contain our owl results. I tore my letter open, and narrowed my eyes, almost not wanting to look. The first letter I saw was a large, far O beside Transfiguration. I opened my eyes slightly more as I scanned down the page, seeing a long line of Os, until I reached History of Magic, by which was an E. I stared at the list, unable to believe my eyes. All Os, except History of Magic. To say I was pleased was an understatement. I glanced up at Hermione, who was smiling anxiously. "How did you do?" she asked. Wordlessly, I handed her my sheet, and took hers when she offered it to me. I grinned when Ron made a comment about Hermione being upset about her E, which she quickly denied. I switched pages to my book list for that year, and saw that I needed to buy several more books for the subjects I was taking for NEWTs. After a brief conversation about the coming year, Mrs Weasley decided that it was time we all went up to bed. As we walked up the stairs beside Ron, Fleur passed us, causing a dreamy look to pass Ron's face. He stood on the side of my foot, causing me to hiss at him: "Idiot!" "S'not my fault," Ron protested, causing me to roll my eyes.
  10. As per usual when I stayed in the Weasley home, I was crammed into Percy's old bedroom-come-office along with Ginny and Hermione, both of whom were currently discussing Fleur and Tonks, and how Ginny would rather have Tonks as a sister-in-law. "Tonks is far more intelligent," Ginny said. "Fleur's not stupid," I pointed out, "considering she got into the Tri-Wizard Tournament." Ginny gave me a level look that made me realise that she wasn't the young, shy girl I'd first known. "What's she done to make you like her?" she demanded. I shrugged. "I've never had reason to dislike her." "Oh come on," Ginny said. "Didn't you find it sickening when she said 'E ess so thoughtful'?" I laughed at Ginny's indignation. "I'm not going to convince you she's not so bad," I said, "so let's just go to bed."
  11. Fifteen minutes later, when Ginny, Hermione and I were settled in make-shift beds on the floor, snuggled under duvets, there was a knock on the door, and Harry's voice sounded. "Can we come in?" he asked. "Course," Ginny called back. The door opened, and Harry, accompanied by Ron, walked through the door and sat down between Hermione and I. Harry squired slightly, looking uncomfortable. "Dumbledore told me about what the prophecy said," he blurted out suddenly. We all stared at him. "You kept that quiet," I joked, breaking the silence. "Anything else?" Harry smiled slightly at me, and then told us all that Dumbledore had told him the previous year. With the addition of the news that Dumbledore would be giving him private lessons that year, Ron all but exploded with astonishment. Hermione began to ramble off about defence magic and counter-curses and the like, but Harry was silent. "Are you scared?" I asked softly. Harry looked up at me, and said, "Not like I was. At first I was, but I guess I knew it would come to this. Sub-consciously." "Well," Ginny began, "if Dumbledore is giving you lessons, that means he thinks you've got a chance. Wouldn't waste his time on you if you were useless." "I suppose so," Harry agreed. "He's done something to his hand. I don't know what - he didn't say. Must have been doing something dangerous over the summer. Talking of which–" Harry cut himself off suddenly, looking sheepish. Ron, Hermione and Ginny had moved onto a different topic of conversation - the news that Florean Fortesque, the ice-cream shop owner, was missing, from what I picked up. "What?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at Harry. "I saw the Prophet today," he murmured, "and I saw his picture." We both knew exactly who the 'he' Harry was referring to was. Once again, I felt the shoot of pain through my heart at the thought of Cedric. "I know how you feel, Cailey. I know that you don't think I do, but—" "I know," I said quickly. "I know that you know how I feel. I just– It hurts. Knowing that he's gone." "He's missing, Cailey, not dead," Harry pointed out. "It amounts to the same thing," I snapped. I sighed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you." Harry squeezed my hand. "It's ok. I understand." "Yeah, well. I'm angry at the Ministry. What on earth could Cedric, a man barely out of school, have done to offend Voldermort? It's their fault for being so blind over the last year, and then being so ignorant now." "Maybe it wasn't the Ministry's fault," Harry suggested. "How did you come up with that one?" I asked. "Cedric was working with the Order too, wasn't he?" Harry fiddled with his wand almost absent-mindedly. "That's an easy way to get on Voldermort's bad side." "Maybe," was all I said in reply. Because as much as Harry's suggestion made me slightly less angry, it made me feel even more desperate. If Cedric, one of the most talented young wizards I knew, was taken or killed - I had to force the word through my mind - while with the Order of the Phoenix, the most powerful and gifted selection of witches and wizards there were, what hope was there for the rest of us?
  12. *vulturemonem* Yes, I totally did just spring that one on you. Before I get any questions about the point of Cedric living through the Goblet of Fire if he dies now, just let me say this. Cedric's story has not finished, alive or dead, and the memory of him has a part to play in the development of Cailey's character, and, therefore, in others. There is a point. So, aside from Cedric's premature disappearance/death, I hope you enjoyed the beginning of this year. Something I'm really looking forward to writing is the Cailey/Draco relationship, though I'm not sure whether or not I'll be able to do Draco's quickly-changing character justice. We'll see! Until next time, which shouldn't be too far away. xXx

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