"I already told you, I'm not coming back." Was the first thing that came from Zara's lips as soon as she took a seat around the table.
Her parents hadn't even sat down yet —she was the only one presiding over the table— but she could already see their stares fixed on the nape of her neck, and she couldn't stop her mouth from letting out what she was always trying to save herself.
"Why not? It might be good for you." Her father commented, putting the three plates in front of them and serving the drink.
"In what world would it be good for me to come back to the place where my best friend was murdered?"
That comment chilled the blood of Thomas and Julia Markey. They shared a knowing look, a pressure in their throats that left them no choice but to swallow hard. Zara looked at them, defiant, but with the same sensation stuck in her chest. Her jaw clenched, instantly regretting having uttered those words.
It wasn't the first time she had made any of those comments —frigid, they didn't give her parents a chance to argue— and though they deeply hurt her parents' hearts, she couldn't help it. She felt that paraphrasing her pain in words would be less hurtful than keeping it inside or doing it physically.
"Beauxbatons has rejected your request to retake the year there. You don't know French, Zara, and they don't teach in any other language."
"I can speak French. Oui, oui..." trailed off the blonde girl. Her parents' eyebrows shot up in amusement, almost forgetting her previous words. "I can learn French."
"Not in a month, love." Stated her mother. "Besides, the Order needs us here, and we can't send you to France all alone."
"Oh, fuck the Order." She spoke without thinking and quickly covered her mouth, knowing that swearing in front of her parents was prohibited. "Is the Order more important than you only child's wellbeing?"
"That won't work, honey. You need to go back to Hogwarts, take your fifth year again and then we'll see, okay? But this year you're staying, and that's final. So finish your meal, go upstairs and pack your things because we're leaving and you don't even have a suitcase yet."
Zara put all the food she could into her mouth, opened it so her parents could check it out, and rolled her eyes. Thomas chuckled but fell silent when his wife kicked him under the table.
Usually their daughter wasn't like that. Yes, she had the gift of the word and was charismatic, also prone to speak to them with trust, as if they were friends and not family, but since the death of Cedric Diggory, Zara Markey had suffered a radical change.
The first few days she had locked herself in her room. She didn't want to eat or see anyone, which her parents could understand, but as the days went by, the girl left her room without anyone going to demand anything from her. Her parents had been greatly surprised they thought Zara would still be in mourning —when the blonde hadn't even mentioned what had happened months ago and seemed determined to forget everything that had happened.
They hadn't even seen Zara sad, crying or nostalgic, but the girl seemed to have overcome it more easily than expected. However, the hurtful and sarcastic comments had made an appearance and seemed to be unwilling to leave. There was little left of the innocent and smiling girl she had been many years ago, and now before them was a teenager who had been forced to mature long before she had to.
And it was that Zara Markey and Cedric Diggory had been inseparable ever since the girl's first year. They lived in a small neighborhood in Devon, away from the wizarding town and living like Muggles. Zara didn't like going out with her "normal" neighbors, because she could do things that they couldn't and made her feel insecure. So when she discovered that the boy with the sand-colored hair and a smile from ear to ear always on his face was also a wizard, Zara was determined not to leave his side.
Despite the age difference —Cedric was already in his second year and with his consolidated group of friends— and being in different houses —while Cedric proudly wore the badger in his robe, Zara had been sorted in Gryffindor almost instantly— everyone at Hogwarts knew about the great relationship that united the teens. Cedric was concerned with keeping Zara down to earth, helping her with her duties from time to time, while Zara added a little spice to the life of the Hufflepuff, who most of the time was carried away by the Gryffindor given her gift of the gab and insistence.
But now Cedric was gone. Cedric had promised her that he would be careful and that it would never occur to him to leave her alone. He was dead and she was with the permanent bittersweet feeling in her mouth, alone and infinitely sad.
"I assume I'm not packing a breathtaking bikini to swim around in Ibiza, right?"
"No, at least McGonagall lets you swim in the Black Lake." Interfered her father, poking his head out her bedroom door. "Do you think they can do that now, Jules?"
"Definitely not!" Shouted her mother from downstairs.
"You heard it." Her father looked at all the clothes she had thrown on the bed, so with a wave of his hand he ordered them and placed them all in the suitcase that had been opened on the floor. Zara snorted. "Hey, come on. I know it might not be the best idea for you right now, but it's for the best. You can't avoid it forever."
"I totally could."
"No, you're still a teenager—"
"—I think I know myself enough—"
"You're just like me, that's why it's so horrible to talk to you, kid." Zara snorted at her father's outburst. "It's not easy for you, I know, and it's not easy for us, either. I want you to know we are by your side through everything you need, everything. We're your parents, we want what's best for you, and we do what we think is best for you. So maybe in a couple years I'll be apologizing to you, but for now you'll just have to follow the lead, yeah? I know it'll bring back a lot of memories —good ones, too— but you'll come out of this stronger than ever. I promise, everything will be alright."
The girl allowed herself to be hugged despite not being in the mood for it. Instinctively she closed her eyes at the touch of her father, who patted her back gently. "I still think I could go by myself to Paris. You know, giving a girl some space..." whispered Zara.
"What are you talking about? France sucks!"
"And England swallows!"
"Oh, Merlin. Will you stop bickering like five-year-olds?" Interrupted her mother from her door. "Besides, we all know Spain wins. Have you tried its food, seen its places, felt its weather...?"
"Exquisito." Julia and Zara Markey murmured in Spanish at the same time.
Thomas glanced at both women. "I still get lost with Spanish some times. Yo me llamo Thomas."
"And you have the audacity to mock my French." Retorted Zara. "I'm sixteen and at least I can speak two languages."
"Oh, yeah? Hit me up when you're my age and working at the Ministry of Magic." Answered Thomas. "That's what I thought."
"You bragging about working there is what makes me not want to work there." Muttered Zara as low as she could.
"Julia, please, take her away." Pleaded Thomas feigning annoyance. "I don't want to talk to my other sixteen-year-old me in days."
The Markey matriarch laughed comfortably at the constant quarrels of her husband and daughter. The truth was that both were very similar: always making comments of that kind, arguing without malice but neither of them gave in until one was tired or was left without answers.
"Your husband has already packed my things, so I guess I'm ready. Mind telling me where we're going?"
"We've told you a thousand times. Grimmauld Place, Sirius' house."
"I might've forgotten. Why are we going there? There's still three days left for September 1st."
"Because we —the members of the Order, you're not allowed— are going to hold a meeting there to discuss some things."
"What kind of things?"
"Not allowed to tell you, love."
"You'll find I can be very perssuasive."
"Trust me, I know." Julia nodded. "What's that?"
Zara turned around, curious. "What's what?" She asked, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.
"Nothing, you must've imagined it. Grab your things, Zara, we leave in ten!"
The girl made a mocking face on her face when she realized her mother's ploy. No matter what her age was, she always fell into that trap —it wasn't her fault that Julia Markey was so good at cheating.
She finalized the details she considered important to take to Grimmauld Place and Hogwarts. She knew that she probably didn't even have time to read —she had to retake all the subjects from last year, as she had to retake the year, and it was very likely that she would be assigned a tutor— but she took a couple of Muggle books and put them in her backpack. She also knew the detail that gadgets from the Muggle world didn't work in the castle, but she took the walkman anyway.
"Have you grabbed everything? Are you leaving anything here?"
"My will to live." Zara made as if she was looking around the room. "Besides that, I think I got everything."
"Grimmauld Place, twelve." Said her mother aloud, taking her hands in hers.
Zara still wasn't used to apparating, so it took a few moments for her to catch her breath and get rid of the vomiting feeling anchored in her throat. She leaned against the nearest wall and dropped all her luggage, but reacted when she heard a groan beside her.
Sirius Black was holding his foot and had a grimace on his face. "Merlin, what do you have there? Rocks?!"
"Hey, watch where you go! You could've damaged my suitcase."
"Your suitcase's damaged my foot!" Sirius complained. "As lovely as ever, huh?"
"You're on your lucky day, Sirius." Greeted Thomas with a smile. "We're going to leave our things upstairs. I assume we're the first ones to arrive?"
"Yes, punctual as always, Markeys. The Weasleys, Harry and Hermione will arrive in an hour or so, and the rest at dinner time. Make yourselves at home."
"Then we'd have to knock down the whole building." Remarked Zara.
"I heard you!"
"I wasn't whispering." Zara answered truthfully. Then she grabbed her things with great effort. "I'm going to unpack. Where's my suite?"
Sirius smiled at her, already knowing the behavior of the girl. "I'm sorry to let you down, but you'll share your tiny room with Ginny—"
"Finally, a reason not to shoot myself—"
"—and Hermione."
"Ah, there it is."
Sirius laughed, seeming amused. "What do you have against the girl?"
"Nothing. It's just I don't know her."
"Well then, expand your circle, because she's Harry and Ron's best friend, and they'll surely appreciate it if you were nice to her —or to someone, for once in your life."
Zara shrugged. "You're cruel, but fair. Let me unpack my things and then I'll show you the new CD I purchased for my birthday."
Sirius frowned. "Your birthday is in December."
"Your birthday can be every day if you know how to pull your cards." The blonde winked and went upstairs.
The truth is that she liked Sirius. He was the only person who could tolerate her humor without getting tired and who, despite everything, had never given up on her. She felt that she could make any comment that Sirius would understand and he wouldn't be angry —on the contrary, he received them with a smile— and she liked that, made her feel at home.
When she entered the room —her father had taken it upon himself to point it out to her— she made a face at it. It smelled like something closed and it was terribly dark, so she turned on the chandelier lights, but it was a bad idea, as a large layer of dust fell from the lamp. She coughed as she opened the bedroom windows, ventilating the interior and letting in some light.
She chose the bed closest to the largest window —bad luck, Hermione and Ginny— and lay down for a while between the sheets before tidying the room a little more. She didn't feel like being alone right now —Zara knew how dangerous it was to let her mind wander— so she went downstairs. She slowed her pace when she heard three voices whispering in what appeared to be the kitchen of the house.
"Harry is coming tonight, but we can't let him know what we're talking about, Sirius."
"Why not?"
"He's still a boy." She deciphered her father's voice in whispers. "I think it's fair if we let him know the basic things, but maybe he's gone enough trauma to understand what this is really about."
"A boy was murdered in front of him two months ago. Don't you think he needs an explanation?"
"Of course we do, Sirius. But he'll already be in pain thinking Cedric died because of him. He won't be able to understand this isn't about him, but about something deeper than this."
Ah, there was his name. The name she had tried not to hear all summer had reappeared. Without meaning to, she made a little noise, which revealed her position. The three adults turned to her, but Zara pursed her lips.
"It's alright. You can say his name." After that, she left the room.
Although she tried hard to hide it, the truth was that she missed Cedric terribly. They lived in nearby houses, so every time she leaned out of her bedroom window, she saw the blinds down on Cedric's. Or, if she was lucky, she would see Mrs. Diggory pacing around her deceased son's room, stroking the pictures and posters that he had hanging on his wall.
She hadn't dared offer condolences to Cedric's parents, hadn't even contacted Cho all summer. It was true that they weren't friends —perhaps just acquaintances— but for Cedric's sake they had begun to get along. Her parents said that they would be sympathetic and understand that she had to go through her own grief, and that they wouldn't take into account the lack of communication between them.
The main reason she didn't want to go back to Hogwarts wasn't to retake a year, but to go through all the parts she had walked with Cedric before. She didn't want to see the Hufflepuff table, for she used to spend more time there than at her Gryffindor table; or the Quidditch field, where she and Cedric had played so many games and trainings together, and separately, whenever they had had a chance. Or the excursions to Hogsmeade, in which Cedric had escaped from his group of friends so that he could go with her to Honeydukes or to have a butterbeer —because he knew that his friends didn't get along well with the young Gryffindor.
"¿Estás bien?" Her mother wanted to know, putting a hand on her shoulder and forcing her to look at her in the eye.
"Nunca he estado mejor." Zara answered in the same language.
"It's okay to be sad, you know? It happened months ago and it's completely normal if you haven't learned to live with it by now."
"I'm not sad, mum. I'm fine."
Julia Markey didn't want to put more pressure on her daughter, so she gave her a sad smile and went back into the kitchen. However, Zara's behavior changed completely. Only she herself knew how she really felt —it was very typical of her to hide the pain behind the sarcasm and irony, often relieving her pain. She sat down on the sofa and crossed her arms, hoping that the pain in her chest would pass quickly.
She had decided months ago that she couldn't afford to show that weakness or everyone would feel sorry for her. Zara Markey, the girl whose friend had died and had also been forced to retake the year.
Zara changed when she was alone with herself. The malicious gleam in her eyes changed to a deeply sad and dull tone, her hair was frequently tied up in a ponytail —he didn't even feel like grooming herself— and she spent most of her time locked up in her books. She wasn't someone who was classed as smart in school, but smart in life. She thought that if she had attended a Muggle school all her life she would have been much more successful than fighting boggarts or preparing stupid potions.
"The Weasleys are here!" Shouted Sirius with a smile plastered on his face.
Zara turned around and got up as fast as a spring. If there was one thing —small though it was— that made her want to go back to Hogwarts, it was Ron. The Weasleys' four youngest siblings appeared down the hall with all their luggage, constantly arguing over who had the right to have room to themselves, but Molly ended their quarrels with a shout and the four fell silent immediately.
"Damn, you have to teach me your ways, Molly." Spoke Zara with a small smirk.
"Zara!" Shouted the four of them in unison. Ginny was the first one to let her boxes on the floor and run to her, nearly crushing her bones into the hug. "I missed you."
"That's why you're actually my favourite. Though I prefer no man touches me —you stink."
"It's August and we're carrying practically our whole house here. Give us a break." Cried out Ron, engulfing the blonde girl in a hug nonetheless.
This time Zara said nothing more. She delved into the depths of the warmth Ron provided, despite the high temperatures he had mentioned. Ron was a good head taller than she was, so she rested her head on his chest while Ron did what he knew best to do: calm her wordlessly.
"It's the first and last time I'm going to say this, so pay attention, Fred." Started George, leaning against the stair railing. "I'm jealous of Ron."
The two twins ran up the stairs laughing, almost afraid that Zara was going to cast a spell on them. "Don't listen to them."
Ron shot a brief glance at his mother, who pursed her lips in a sad smile and nodded. This gesture didn't go unnoticed by Zara, who simply kept silent. "How have you been? You didn't reply to any of our letters, so I assumed you'd want to be alone." Started Ron with a small voice, not meeting his friend's eyes.
"It was horrid at first, but now I'm better." Whispered Zara, not wanting anyone to listen to them. "I'm fine, I promise."
"Are you sure? You can talk to me about anything. I'm here for you."
"I'm sure, Ron. And I'm sorry for the letters, I should've responded at least. Now, tell me about your summer! What have you been up to?" Her voice was joyful —maybe too much.
"Nothing much. We've been in the Burrow all summer, you know how it goes. Ginny, Fred, George and I have been practicing our Quidditch skills, maybe this year I'll go to the tryouts. I warn you, you'll have to keep an eye on Ginny —she's crushed me this summer—, maybe she takes your place in the team."
"I've always been rooted for my homegirl. She'll play professional Quidditch one day, I swear. She can have my spot if she's good enough, I don't think I'm trying out this year."
Ron's eyes went wide open. "Why? You've been on the team since your third year."
"Because I'm retaking my fifth year and probably won't have enough time to combine both studies and Quidditch. And we both know what's more important to my parents. Besides, McGonagall might've drop a word about getting me a tutor." Zara wanted to facepalm herself.
"Maybe I can sneak Hermione's notes to you...?" Ron rambled.
Zara laughed. "No, it's okay. That poor girl's already have to put up with you two. Hey, what's this?"
The blonde girl rubbed a patch on Ron's shirt with her fingertips. He blushed a similar color to his hair but smiled half-heartedly. "I've been named Prefect. Alongside with Hermione."
That's great, Ron! I'm happy for you." Zara hugged her friend briefly, while he muttered a small thanks, still as red as before.
"Ron! Harry's here!" A voice screamed from the corridor. Both Zara and Ron went to where the voice was from and discovered Hermione. Zara didn't know the girl had come with them. "Hey Zara. It's good to see you."
Zara gave her a small smile and nodded. She knew what Hermione would be thinking: do I offer condolences or do I just keep my mouth shut? She was grateful that Hermione hadn't brought up the subject and had chosen the latter, as she didn't have enough trust in her and the conversation would probably end up being awkward.
Harry Potter appeared out the doorway with a grin from ear to ear when he saw Ron and Hermione waiting for him. He shared a long hug with both of them, and his smile faded a little as he rested his gaze on the blonde girl. Once again Zara was able to read Harry's mind. From the moment the eyes of the two had connected, they had both known the first thought that had crossed the other's head: Cedric.
Zara knew that Harry had barely had a relationship with her best friend, but they had spent the past year sharing secrets about the tournament —Zara had promised to keep the secret for Cedric— so she sensed that having witnessed the death of the Hufflepuff had affected him as much as to her.
In slow motion, Harry's arms wrapped around the blonde girl's small figure, and she responded in the same way. They weren't as friends as Ron and she could be, but they were acquaintances in Gryffindor and also teammates in the Quidditch team, which made Zara understand Harry, and vice versa. What did surprise both Gryffindors is that this was the first time they shared a hug.
Ron and Hermione watched the scene tenderly until the two green-eyed teenagers separated. "You okay?" Asked Harry in a small voice.
"Never better, Potter. You?"
"Alright."
"Everything will be alright."