Thrown back to the centre

The feeling of a pull in his stomach remained as his body drifted in the endless time where not a limb was in reach, as if he was just another page soon to be forgotten. A scream scratched his throat, but the feeble croak was not to be heard nor to be recorded. At moments like these you wish that you could grasp on something, that your memory could selfishly mark itself on the tale of time, but it makes you realise how small you are.

Head full of whispers, and eyes teased by the illuminating sunlight of the bright morning dew, the feeling was all too similar as he stole a breath from this world. He stole a breath. A deep long breath that had the strong overwhelming scent of lichens that made his nose twitch. And it struck him, he stole a breath. 

There was a loud resounding ‘pop’ bursting an unknown bubble that had blown up inside his very soul when he heard footsteps approaching. They were slow, as if nothing was out of place, as if there was all the time in the world. They concluded right infront of the long hardwood door and Cedric couldn't help but feel as if this was all a part of a sick nightmare. Such kind of torture it is to witness his childhood bedroom, that had changed so long ago but it looked like time hadn't even touched it! Not a scortch. Not a mark. 

There was still the jarring sense of reality, everything felt awfully secondhand — the experience, the feeling — everything. For the first time it felt so overwhelming with information that he just couldn't move, and wouldn't. Slowly and calculatedly, the door opened with a loud CREEK! The hair on his back stood from the chill that just went down his spine. It started to feel more like a lucid dream than anything.

Only it was not. Nothing terrifying was there but it still managed to make his heart crawl it's way upto his throat. A woman stood there, not just any woman — it was his mother, the same hazel eyes, the almost short stature, her deep brown hair that were starting to grey a little. It was so hard to confuse it, the woman standing in front of him was his mother.

   “Oh, you’re awake already, sweetie?” she said gently, as her eyebrows raised a little in surprise and a soft little smile grew. Cedric suddenly felt his guts coming to a boil, as if they just wanted to spill out. This wasn't happening, there was simply no way that he was actually, physically, here. Unless, there's someway he travelled back into time but that thought is ridiculously laughable. 

Cedric finally started to remember just before he woke up — where the hell was William? And why, in the name of whatever the hell runs heaven or spirit world or whatever it's called, is he remembering a day of his childhood so vividly, and what the actual fuck was that warp thing William was talking about because the next time he finds William to hell with the fact that he's already dead — he'd actually behead him! 

Cedric was still trying to figure out why it was that he could feel the resonances of his heartbeating and why he suddenly could feel the cold air going in and out of his body at a rapid pace.

   “What’s wrong, dear?” 

   “Nothing.” Cedric said automatically, ‘just the fact that I'm not supposed to be alive and breathing right now’ was what he did not add. This was the most unbelievable thing that's happened to him and it hadn't been long since he discovered the afterlife!

   “Are you worried about your first year at Hogwarts? You'll be just fine, you will,” she said, now sitting on the edge of the bed, “And I'm sure you'll make a lot of friends.” 

   “I’m not worried.” That's not what I'm worried about is what he means. His mother visibly does not believe him, as she pats his head and tells him to get ready to go to diagon ally. Now, sitting in the hot warm bath, he sinks into a languid pool of worries. One thing was that he was sure this wasn't meant to happen. It was so weird to be in his body, it was suddenly so small, his voice was high, and it was a total mess. It felt so weird to undress himself like he was a stranger violating his own privacy.