The Necklace

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

16th,May 1994

"Harry...take my body back, back to my father. And make sure Hermione gets the necklace. Tell her I love her," pleaded Cedric. Harry nodded numbly, not really comprehending.

"Time to let go," encouraged his mother gently. "Sweetheart, you're ready. Let go!" Harry sent his parents a terrified look.

"Let go, Son," said his Dad with a firm nod and a smile. It was the strength he needed. Harry jerked up his wand and the golden thread connecting his wand to Voldemort's snapped. With a swish of his wand the Triwizard cup sailed into his outstretched arm, the other was wrapped securely around Cedric's body. They disappeared with a crack. But Voldemort's angry howl echoed in his ears. It wasn't over.

Harry's eyes snapped open. His head ached as memories of that horrible night played over again in his mind. He checked the clock, it was 4 am. Harry grimaced, knowing full well that he wasn't going to sleep the rest of the night. He quietly pulled open the curtains of his four-poster bed, stopping only once to be sure that all of his roommates were still asleep.

He picked up his glasses from his bedside table and pulled on his jeans which he'd left haphazardly on the floor next to his bed earlier that night. He pocketed his wand, Hermione's necklace, and threw his Dad's cloak over his shoulders.

It was burning a hole in his pocket. Over the course of the last three days, Harry steadily debated about what to do with the necklace. The small orb of swirling misty light was no bigger than a large marble. It warmed his palm as he tangled his fingers in the excessively long white gold chain.

One day he'd give it to her, it's what Cedric wanted. Far be it from him to deny the final wish of a dying young man. He'd meant to give it to her days ago. But something stopped him every time. The problem was...Harry didn't understand why. Why were Cedric's last words to him about his best friend? He said to tell Hermione that he loved her. That in and of itself completely floored him.

Cedric Diggory loved his best friend.

Cedric Diggory was dead.

Harry winced unexpectedly and his fist tightened around the dimly glowing orb. Harry wasn't sure if he could stomach delivering that kind of news to her. She'd be devastated. To find that out and never have the chance for anything to come of it. Maybe he shouldn't say anything. If he could spare her the pain of losing someone, he would.

Harry froze at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes fell on the one person who presently occupied the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione was fast asleep, curled into a ball on the sofa nearest to the fireplace. As he drew closer to the common room exit, he noticed the dying firelight reflecting off of the still-wet tear stains on her cheeks.

His conscious burned. No. He wouldn't be able to lie to her. But he could do it the right way, kindly, and at the right time. Harry nodded to himself as he climbed out the portrait hole, sparing one more glance at his best friend. He would honor Cedric Diggory's final request...but not today.