“Does---does it ever get any easier?”
“Really, Granger, don’t you ever shut up?”
Hermione didn’t bother to send a glare in Malfoy’s direction. Instead, she focused on Cedric and wished he’d tell her it wasn’t always like this.
“You get used to it,” Cedric finally said as he made his way to her. “Gets lonely. Always cold. Even when the sun is out, it’s cold. It’s frustrating, too. Knowing and wanting but not able to do anything.”
“I don’t like the cold,” Hermione whispered as she looked at the dark sky above.
“At least it won’t be so lonely---now,” Cedric suggested as positively as possible, always trying to be optimistic in even the most negative of circumstances.
“I’ll tell you what it is, Granger,” Draco spoke up as he surveyed their surroundings. “This is torture. What is it you Muggles call it? Purgatory? That’s what this is. Stuck with a fucking Hufflepuff and a Mudblood? Yeah, this is definitely Hell.”
“I’m scared too, Malfoy,” Hermione said quietly. She was trying to deal with everything that was happening and had little use to rise to his childish taunts.
“I’m not---” Draco started to deny in a snarl and then he just shrugged. “No point sitting around whining about things. Like Diggory said, we’ll get used to it.”
Hermione moved through the quiet cemetery and lingered by a large stone. She stared at the ground where she had fallen and felt a chill. Surprised, she glanced up to see Cedric floating behind her. His hand was resting on her shoulder and she could somewhat feel him.
“Oh,” he said softly as he stared at her shoulder. “I didn’t---I’ve never been around---I didn’t know you’d feel me.”
“It feels cold,” Draco muttered as he moved to Hermione’s other side and touched her arm hesitantly. He didn’t want to be left out or forgotten by them, not when they were all he really had now. This wasn’t too bad, he decided. He no longer hurt from the pain of the Cruiciatus and at least he wasn’t stuck here with Crabbe or Pansy. Now that would have been Hell. Gra-Hermione wasn’t so bad and Diggory had always been a good bloke. Could be worse, he decided as he moved closer and rested his chin on Gra-Hermione’s shoulder. “Why are we standing here?”
“I died here,” she told him matter-of-factly as she leaned back against two men she‘d never really spoken to before. She found comfort, in a small way, in the fact there was one on each side of her and the familiarity of three that she had known for years. She stared at the ground and sighed, surprised to discover that ghosts could cry.
The End