The Beginning of the End of Innocence

Olivia Middleton's POV

I run to the castle, wiping my tears, not daring to look behind me. I don't care who sees me, don't care if anyone's following. I just run. My legs burn, but I keep going. The hallways feel darker than ever. They're the same corridors I've walked a hundred times, but without him... it all feels wrong.

I make it to my dorm and collapse to the floor. My knees hit the ground hard, but I barely notice. The sobs come fast and loud, and I don't even try to hold them in. How do you come back from this? How do you breathe again after losing someone who mattered so much? I cry until my throat burns, until I can't see past the blur of tears.

Then I feel it—arms wrapping around me from behind.

"Draco," I whisper. I know it's him without looking. "Why didn't he want to come back?" He shifts behind me. "What? Darling, you don't know what you're saying—"

"I can bring people back," I cut him off, my voice shaking. I don't care if I'm spilling secrets. I can't hold anything in. Not right now. He goes quiet. I can feel him processing it.

"Dumbledore said... said I can only bring back people who want to come back." I finally turn to face him, eyes swollen and red. "Why didn't Cedric want to come back? Was I not enough? Was something wrong with me?"

"Hey, no," Draco says firmly, pulling me into him again. "Never think that, Olivia. Never. Cedric was lucky. He was so lucky to have you. I promise you, he didn't regret a single second with you. Not one minute."

I nod into his chest, but it doesn't stop the tears. My body feels hollow, empty. I'm exhausted—beyond exhausted. And my hand still hasn't stopped burning, but I barely notice it anymore. I don't mind showing Draco this side of me. He's always seen more than most.

He keeps whispering soft things, stroking my hair like he's trying to smooth the grief out of me. We sit on the floor like that for what feels like hours. Then he pulls back gently and looks at me. "Darling, let's get you into bed. You're shivering," he says, cupping my cheek.

I don't even look up. I just nod.

He helps me onto my bed and stands, about to leave when the sounds of the others returning reach us from the hallway. "No," I say quickly, grabbing his wrist, my voice barely holding. "Please don't leave me too."

He sighs, then sits down beside me. I curl into him, my head on his chest, one of his arms wrapped tight around me, the other brushing the tears from my face. "It's my fault, Draco," I whisper. "I told him to protect Harry. And he did. It's my fault..."

"Don't say that," he says softly but firmly. "None of this is your fault."

I don't know how long we stay like that. I only know that somewhere between his heartbeat and my tears, I fall asleep.

Hermione Granger's POV

We're walking back from the grounds, but I barely feel the steps beneath me. My chest is tight. My throat aches. Cedric Diggory—gentle, kind, never hurt a soul—gone. Just like that. Why him?

I'm so caught in the fog of it all, I don't even realize what Olivia must be going through until it hits me like a slap. I stop in my tracks, suddenly frantic. She's not with us. Where is she?

I search everywhere. The grounds. The Great Hall. Even the Astronomy Tower. Ginny sticks with me the whole time. No sign of her. Eventually, we head back to our dorm, hoping maybe she somehow slipped past us. I push the door open slowly.

And there she is.

Asleep in Malfoy's arms.

He's awake. He looks right at me—tense, as if expecting a fight—but I lift my hand and give a small nod. It's okay. She needs someone. And, in this moment, somehow, he's the only one who could've done it.

His shoulders relax and he leans his head back, closing his eyes again, still holding her like she's the only thing tethering him to earth.

Ginny and I don't speak. We don't make a sound. We move around the room like shadows. We know even the slightest noise could wake Liv—and waking her means watching her break again. None of us want that. She needs sleep. She needs peace.

None of us really sleep, though. Not really. Ginny stays curled on her bed. I sit propped against my pillows, eyes drifting to Olivia every few minutes. She keeps tossing and turning, murmuring things we can't make out, tears sliding down her cheeks even in sleep.

And every time I think of going to her, he's already there.

Malfoy rubs her back. He strokes her hair. He wipes her tears. Soft and steady, like it's instinct. Like he's done it a hundred times before.

By morning, I wake to find her alone in bed. He's gone. But there's a note on her side table.

I walk over quietly and read it.

My dear darling,

I am always there for you. Always. You can visit me, anytime you want, or I can. No matter the bullying, the name-calling, you will always be my priority. I will drop everything just to comfort you.

You were restless in your sleep. You cried, kept fidgeting, having nightmares. I couldn't stand seeing you hurt. I quietly sobbed last night, quiet enough to not wake you and the others up. That's why I left.

~ DM

I exhale slowly, a soft, sad smile forming. She changed him. No matter what she says. No matter what anyone says. I look at her. She's still asleep, face pale, breathing slow.

When I turn toward my bed, I find a note there too.

Granger,

She will not ask for help. You know how stubborn she can be. She won't leave the dorm for days. She was still burning up last night, so I put a wet cloth on her forehead. Hope you will do that too.

Never leave her alone in the dorm. Never. The last time I did, she burned herself.

Take care of her, for me.

~ Malfoy

I wipe at my eyes, but tears keep coming. I glance at Liv—and she's awake. She's reading his note. Her face is blank. Empty. She doesn't say anything, just lays back down and stares at the ceiling like it might give her an answer.

I sit beside her and gently touch her forehead. Still warm. I grab a fresh cloth, wet it, and lay it over her. She doesn't flinch. Doesn't blink.

I start to rise, but her voice stops me. "You know... I slept last night hoping this was just some sort of nightmare. That I'd wake up and it'd be over. For a second, I really thought it was." Her voice breaks. "Until I read the note."

I sit back down, reach for her hand. She lets me take it, but her eyes are still fixed on the ceiling. "Liv," I say softly, "I know when people say everything will be okay, it sounds hollow. It doesn't help. But things will change. And you won't always feel like this."

"How am I supposed to move on, Mione?" she whispers, sitting up slowly. "He loved me. And I— I thought it was too soon. I held back. And then I asked him to protect Harry. And he... he did."

"No, Liv." I grab her and pull her close. "This isn't your fault. He did what he thought was right. That was his choice. He loved you enough to make it." She doesn't hug me back. Just sits there, pressed against me, silent. Ginny stands at the end of the bed, her own tears falling now.

We're all breaking a little.

But at least we're breaking together.

Harry Potter's POV

After Cedric died, something in Liv died too.

She used to light up every room she walked into. Laughing too loud, dragging us into ridiculous pranks, throwing puns at Ron that made even Snape crack a smile once. But after that night in the graveyard... nothing. No jokes. No smiles. No Liv.

She hasn't come out of her dorm since it happened. Not for meals. Not for class. Not even for Hermione. I haven't seen her in days that stretch like months.

Then, one night after curfew, I find her.

She's curled up on the couch in the common room, barely asleep. Her breathing's uneven, like she's trapped in the middle of a nightmare. I sit beside her quietly, not wanting to wake her. She looks... frail. Her skin's pale. Her cheeks are hollow. The dark circles under her eyes make her look like she hasn't slept in weeks.

My chest tightens.

I scoot closer and gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Just watching her for a second. She looks peaceful—only for a moment, like the war inside her is quiet for once. I don't want to disturb that.

I start to stand, but she stirs. And before I can move, she wraps her arms around me and leans into my shoulder, still half-asleep.

So I stay.

The next morning, I wake up before she does. I ask Hermione to sit with her so she won't wake up alone. Liv doesn't say anything about it, and neither do I.

It becomes our routine.

Every night after curfew, she shows up. Every night, I meet her in silence. She never says much, just leans into me and falls asleep. And every morning, I leave before she wakes up.

But one night, it changes.

I come down and she's already there—awake.

She looks at me, and for the first time in forever, she gives me this soft, faint smile. There's something sad behind it, but it's real. She's seen me. I can't turn around and pretend it never happened.

So I sit beside her. She doesn't speak for a long time. Just stares into the fireplace.

Then, her voice breaks the silence.

"What happened that day, Harry?"

My throat tightens. "Do you re—?"

"Yes," she cuts in. "I want to know. Dumbledore asked me to speak at Cedric's memorial in a few days. Don't you think his girlfriend—his ex-girlfriend—should know what actually happened to him?" I exhale slowly. She deserves to know the truth. So I tell her.

I tell her everything.

How Cedric helped me through the maze. How he could've taken the cup, but waited. How he saved me. How we both grabbed the cup together. How we landed in that graveyard. How he didn't run. How he was brave. How Peter Pettigrew killed him in cold blood.

She doesn't say anything at first.

Then she breaks.

She cries—loud, wracking sobs that make my eyes sting. I pull her into my chest and hold her while she shakes. Our friends start filtering into the common room, woken by her crying. No one says a word at first. Just watching. Holding space for her.

Then Fred walks over and kneels beside us.

"Love," he says gently, "Cedric wouldn't want you to cry like this. He wouldn't want to see you hurting. Or starving yourself. It's hard, we know that. Life without him is hard. But we're still here. All of us. No matter what."

Liv slowly lifts her head from my chest. She looks around at everyone—Hermione, Ron, Ginny, George. All of them standing there like pillars holding her up.

George steps forward and grins. "Come on, love. Smile for us, yeah? It's been months since we've seen you smile. We miss the old Olivia. The one who made puns, yelled at Ron, and made us laugh till we cried."

She wipes her tears, blinks at him, and says, "Old? I'm not old. You're old, Grandpa Georgie. You're the one about to graduate, not me." And just like that—laughter.

Real laughter. From all of us. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Liv smiles.

We help her back from the dark. She starts eating again. She talks. She jokes. And thank Merlin, she teases Ron.

She's not the same—but she's healing. And I've never been more relieved to see someone come back to life.

Olivia Middleton's POV

Everyone helps me move on. Slowly, piece by piece, I start to feel like myself again. I eat. I laugh. I even sing once in a while. It's not like before—not really—but I'm trying. And they see that. They hold me through the dark.

Today is Cedric's memorial.

Professor Dumbledore waited for me to be ready. He said it wouldn't happen until I felt strong enough to stand through it. I'm not sure I'm strong now, but I'm here.

I sit beside Harry, clutching the edge of the bench while my heart pounds so hard I think it might burst. Dumbledore begins his speech. His voice is calm, steady, but I can hear the weight in it.

"Today, we acknowledge, after months, a really terrible loss. Cedric Diggory, as you all know, was exceptionally hardworking, brave and kind, and a fierce, fierce friend." He pauses—looks at me. I freeze. My eyes sting.

"You have the right to know how he died. How he exactly died." I grab Harry's hand. He squeezes mine and wraps his other arm around my shoulder. My chest rises and falls too fast. My eyes blur.

"He was murdered by Voldemort," Dumbledore says.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I gasp, and then I sob—into Harry's shoulder, into the open air, into the truth. I don't hear the rest of Dumbledore's speech. My ears are ringing. My heart is shattering again.

Then he says it—he calls me up. "Now, let's hear from someone who was close to Cedric in his last days." Harry kisses my forehead. "You don't have to do this, Liv."

"I have to," I whisper. "For him. For his father. For me."

My legs feel numb as I walk up to the stage. I can feel every gaze locked on me. I glance up—and there's Draco. He nods. Just that. But somehow it makes me breathe.

I speak.

"Hi. A lot of you may know me as Cedric's girlfriend. Honestly, it's a privilege to be known by his name. Cedric Diggory.

"We were all blessed to have been a part of his life. He was loved and treasured by those lucky enough to know him—as a son, a brother, a boyfriend, a Seeker, a captain, a prefect... and most of all, a friend.

"He impressed us with his charm, his patience, his intelligence... and, yeah, his ridiculously good looks. He was kind. Thoughtful. He never gossiped. Never belittled anyone. He made people feel safe.

"I could go on and on about who Cedric was—but I think most of you already knew him. Really knew him.

"He's more than what Professor Dumbledore said. Much more. He always put others before himself. He once promised me he'd protect Harry. And he did. He died doing the right thing. He died protecting a friend.

"He was murdered by Voldemort. And I believe that. I believe Harry. And I know—I know—Cedric would never die doing anything less than what was right.

"I know the Ministry doesn't want us to talk about this. I don't know how many of you believe Harry... but there's something you should believe: a war is coming.

"No matter your age, your bloodline, your language, your house—when it comes, you'll have to choose. Right or wrong. And you'll have to fight.

"Don't let Cedric's death mean nothing."

I finish and walk off the stage, not daring to look back.

When I get to my dorm, I sit down beside Hermione. She doesn't say much. Just, "That was very beautiful, Liv." I give her a tired smile. "Beautiful words for a beautiful boy," I whisper, and start folding my clothes into my trunk.

"You can stay with me, you know. You don't have to go back alone," she says, scooting closer. "No, Mione. Thank you, but... I'll be okay. Maybe not now. But I will be." She gives me a long look and then stands. "I'm going to the courtyard. Coming?"

"In a few," I tell her, smiling softly. "Go on ahead." I make my way to the common room, and bump right into Professor Dumbledore. "Ah, Olivia," he says with a twinkle in his eye. "A very powerful speech. I dare say you'd make a fine headmaster someday."

I laugh under my breath. "Only if you make me one."

"Only if you want to be one," he replies. "But I mean what I say. And... be careful, Olivia. Voldemort is back. He won't rest. And we need you. Many already know what you're capable of. I suggest you take training from Aurors. You already have power, but you must learn to shape it."

He places a hand on my shoulder and we exit into the courtyard together. That's when I see Draco walking up to us. Dumbledore smiles and nods at me. "Right then. I'll leave you to it."

"Olivia," Draco says softly. I smile. "Draco."

He sighs and pulls me into a hug. "You were really brave. A great speech. Diggory would be proud. And probably jealous that I'm hugging you." I laugh into his shoulder. "Thank you, Draco. I never actually got to thank you properly after Cedric died. I didn't leave the dorm... but still. Thank you for being there."

"And yes," I add, pulling back. "Ced would definitely be jealous." He smiles but glances behind me. "Looks like your trio's here."

"Write me?" I ask, hopeful. "Over the summer?" he nods. "Of course."

Then he's off, already charming a group of Beauxbatons girls with that smirk of his. Right. Malfoy's still a flirt. I smile and turn back to Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

We watch everyone around us—some hugging, some laughing, some crying, some kissing goodbye. "Do you think we'll ever have a quiet year at Hogwarts?" Ron asks.

"No," Hermione and Harry answer in sync. I stay quiet, still watching the crowd. "Everything's going to change now, isn't it?" Hermione whispers, voice trembling. I meet her eyes and nod. "Yes."

We walk together toward the balcony. She turns to me again and says, "Promise you'll write. All of you. And we'll visit like last time. Maybe throw a party?"

I smile, squeezing her hand. "You got it. I'll send the date and everything."

We reach the balcony, and we watch the carriages and ships depart—each one pulling a piece of this strange, hard year away with it.

But something tells me... this was just the beginning.