Girl Who Escaped {Harry Potter: The Goblet of Fire} [BEING EDITED]

[21] The Beggining.

OKAY SOOO..... WHAAAAAA This is the last chapter to book one, and I must say, ladies and gentleman, it has been one hell of a ride.

You guys pushed me to finish this, and I love you all so much. It's with a heavy heart I finish this book. Luckily, we have the SEQUEL!!! :D

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Without further interruptions, enjoy this special last chapter.

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[Chapter 21: The Beggining]

When I looked back, even a month later, I found I had only scattered memories of the next few days. It was as though I had been through too much to take in any more. The recollections I did have were very painful. The worst, perhaps, was the meeting with the Diggory's that took place that night.

Mr. Diggory sobbed through most of the interview. Mrs. Diggory's grief seemed to be beyond tears.

The next morning, was when Harry met with them.

Harry seized the sack of gold on the bedside table.

"You take this," he muttered to her. "It should've been Cedric's, he got there first, you take it -"

But she backed away from him.

"Oh no, it's yours, dear, I couldn't... you keep it."

After she left the room, he looked to me helplessly.

"Why won't anyone take the money?" Harry asked with a dreadful sigh.

I shrugged and shifted my position next to him, "It isn't theirs. The only other person that would've had equal rights is... Cedric."

Even saying his name was a chore now. I had full acceptance that he was gone, but it didn't stop the pain.

We returned to Gryffindor Tower the following evening. From what Hermione and Ron told us, Dumbledore had spoken to the school that morning at breakfast. He had merely requested that they leave Harry and I alone, that nobody ask us questions or badger Harry to tell the story of what had happened in the maze, or for the male students to smother me with attention. Most people, I noticed, were skirting us in the corridors, avoiding our eyes. Some whispered behind their hands as either of us passed. I guessed that many of them had believed Rita Skeeter's article about how disturbed and possibly dangerous Harry was. And how manipulating and deceptive I was. Perhaps they were formulating their own theories about how Cedric had died. I found he didn't care very much. I liked it best when I was with Fred and George and they were talking about other things, and it seemed their mission not to let a sad moment pass. I felt as though all three of us, including Ron, Harry, and Hermione, had reached an understanding we didn't need to put into words; that each was waiting for some sign, some word, of what was going on outside Hogwarts - and that it was useless to speculate about what might be coming until we knew anything for certain. The only time anyone touched upon the subject was when Ron told Harry and I about a meeting Mrs. Weasley had had with Dumbledore before going home.

"She went to ask him if you two could come straight to us this summer," he said. "But he wants you to go back to the Dursleys, at least at first. And he wants a private word with you later, Acacia."

"Why?" said Harry, probably questioning the comment about the Dursley's.

"She said Dumbledore's got his reasons," said Ron, shaking his head darkly. "I suppose we've got to trust him, haven't we?"