Blind Spots {Fred Weasley}

43.

There was no one in the wizarding or muggle world who meant more to Malcolm than Cedric, and the thought of life without him was never something he had prepared for. He wanted to be alone. He wanted his sorrow to consume him completely.

With his elbows resting on his thighs he brought his hands over his face, and the sobbing grew. "You shouldn't be here...You should be in the Common Room, with everyone else. Or with your parents," He finally whimpered. He watched as Fiona's jaw tightened, but she remained stoic.

Fiona couldn't leave. She needed to be there when Cedric came back. She needed to know it was all a lie and everything would go back to normal by the morning.

"I can't," she stiffly mumbled in response. Beside her, Malcolm began to quiver as he attempted to reject the emotions that were quickly overcoming him.

She was certain this was a mistake but speaking it seemed naive and petulant.

When her parents had begged her to return to the Hogshead for the night with them she refused. She had insisted she needed to pack Cedric's things before they returned home. Neither her mum nor her dad had the energy to argue against her desire.

"Fiona," Malcolm whispered. His voice was shaking, and any attempt to quail his pain was quickly diminishing. "He's gone."

"He can't be," Fiona sobbed. And all at once, a surge of emotions erupted inside her mind, sending tidal waves through her body. As her tears began freely streaming down her cheeks Malcolm laced his hand into her own. They clung to each other's grasp as if they would die if they let go.

Together, Fiona and Malcolm cried, as if falling through an abyss with only sadness as their liferaft. If the soul could bleed an ocean through the eyes, that was the enormity of their sobbing throughout the night.

The next morning Fiona woke to Nox gently purring in the crook of her neck. For a moment, the events of the previous night had been nothing more than another nightmare. The hand entwined with her own must have been Fred's.

That moment and the reality Fiona wanted to live in was shattered at the sound of Malcolm's muffled weeping.

"Fiona," Malcolm murmured. The bed shifted as Malcolm sat up. She hummed incoherently, and regardless of how hard she tried, the simple answer brought on fresh waves of tears and sadness. "There's a letter...for you," Malcolm said. His eyes were fixed on Cedric's nightstand and the letter that lay there.

Fiona reached to the nightstand and her hand felt around the small table until she met the envelope. After opening the letter her fingers skimmed across the braille text. Malcolm watched as her facial features grew stiff.

"It's from the headmaster," she muttered. "He wants to meet with me...and my parents." She crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it far away. "He can go to hell," she bitterly breathed.

"Fiona, you need to go," Malcolm uttered. Fiona shook her head fervently.

"No. I don't. It's all his fault! I warned him! He let this happen!"

"You don't know that," Malcolm said in an attempt to reason with her. Fiona folded her arms across her chest and blankly glared ahead.

Malcolm stood from the bed and quickly wiped his eyes with the sleeves of his robes. "I'll take you," he solemnly offered.

"I told you," she quickly spat. "I'm not going."

"You need to at least hear him out. For your parents," Malcolm pushed. With a groan, Fiona stood from the bed and held out her hand for Malcolm to take.