꧁ ℍ𝕦𝕗𝕗𝕝𝕖ℙ𝕦𝕟𝕜 ꧂

I let out a shaky breath, and my gaze fell to look out of the small window in my compartment, as the Hogwarts express pulled out of platform 9¾. The sound of teenagers chattering about their summer holidays around me was comforting. Mine hadn't been as fortunate.

The Triwizard Tournament took place on three different months. The first being November, where the contestants had to get the golden dragon egg, the second in February, where they had to retrieve what was stolen. And the third was in June, the maze. My brother had competed in all three of the challenges. I'd have done the same, had I been old enough. And maybe if I had, things would've turned out differently. Maybe I'd have been the one that died. That would've been better for everyone.

I know I shouldn't think like that. It's not fair for me to pity myself, while others are going through hell after my git of a brother got himself killed. He just couldn't resist the chance to be a bloody hero, could he?

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Things have been rough since last June. My parents have been a mess. My father holds ill will towards Hogwarts in general- believing that the staff didn't do all they found to protect Cedric. Which, may be true. He didn't want me coming back. Said I'd be better off at Beauxbatons. Though frankly, I'd rather eat a bowl of unicorn droppings than wear their uniform. So here I am, on the train back to the place that my brother died.

"Ella, you're here!" A voice chimed, from the bushy haired girl that I'd grown to tolerate. "I mean, here, here. I didn't think you'd be back."

I nod dismissively, "I didn't much have anywhere else to go."

Hermione brushes a frizzy lock of hair behind one of her ears, as she shifts her grip on her suitcase. "Right. May I join you?"

"Be my guest," I reply, while glancing over at her and giving her something close to a smile. She pushes her suitcase up into the storage area, and takes a seat opposite of me.

"How are... things?" Hermione asks, folding her hands on her lap.

"Things are fine," I shrug. Knowing that she means more than just 'how was your break?'

Hermione nods. "I'm sure the funeral was lovely." I blink and look at her from the corner of my eyes. Subtle, Mione.

"It was, as lovely as it could be anyway. He just looked like he was sleeping." I pause, and laugh lightly to myself. "Except that there wasn't the usual drool that accompanied his mouth."

Hermione smiles. "Cedric drooled?"

"Profusely," I nod.