Imagines and Preferences: Book 2

You're Different From Me (Part 3) | Draco Malfoy

Verse: "For by Him all things were created, in Heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through Him and for Him." Colossians 1:16

Encouragement: God created all, and everything was made to glorify Him — including us! It is our greatest joy to worship the Lord, who is the only one who deserves our praise! The stars were made to worship Him, creation was made to sing His praises! If all of creation was made to praise Him, so will I!

Sorry it took literal AGES

Prompts #28 and #30
Requested by rosyspetal
Summary: Y/N has a difficult time grieving Cedric, but she isn't alone. Hannah and Draco are by her side whenever she needs them, and, when things start to get better, a conversation with Cho brings to mind the Yule Ball and her dance with Draco.

QOTP: Dumbledore. Discuss.

Word Count: 6728

The world froze for a moment, the wind stopping in its tracks. All the people watching stopped dead, taking that last, okay moment to process what they were seeing. Y/N's breath paused in her lungs, and then she breathed out -- and the storm hit. Faces blurred, voices blended, shouts faded into the background. Out there, in focus, was her brother's too-still chest and Harry laying on top of him, tears streaming down his cheeks. Someone screamed her brother's name; it rang in her skull.

Then Harry was gone, and she realized the someone screaming was her.

Someone grabbed her, but she fought it, wanting to be near him, hoping against hope that up close, he would be breathing. That he would open his eyes and smile, with a crazy story ready to tell at family gatherings and over lunch in the Great Hall.

"Cedric!" she screamed again, the shout ripping through her throat as she jerked and fought. "Cedric!"

Finally, she got free. Her knees hit the dirt and she grabbed at his chest, getting around the people in the way. "Cedric, wake up!" She shook him, felt for his heartbeat. "Wake up! Wake up, please."

Going on without him, wasn't an option. If she couldn't go back to before he put in his name for this stupid Tournament, she just wanted to stay right there, on the pitch — because she wouldn't leave him, ever.

Her parents surrounded her, wailing filled her ears. Tears blurred her vision, but she wouldn't give up. She waited and waited and waited for him to open his eyes.

Finally, he did.

His eyes snapped open, boring into hers. Their once bright gray was dull, getting darker and darker. But they weren't stormy; there was nothing in them. No light, no mirth, no anger, sadness, or pain. Just nothing.

"Why didn't you do anything?" he asked, with as much nothingness as his eyes held. "You should've stopped this."

"How?" she sobbed.

"You could've stopped this," he said, decaying before her eyes, "but now you're alone.""Don't go!"

"You should've said goodbye. Now you won't get to." And then she was looking at a skeleton.