A/N: Inspired by http :// flytoferio . deviantart . com / art / Woodworking-26035307 over at deviant art. It's kind of morbid in this part.

Thanks to my beta Spikeissexy!

Disclaimer: I don't own. I just play. And I make no money.

Harry spent the next few days after the graveyard in a haze. He heard Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, and all the others talking to him and he felt their consolatory pats on the back, but none of it reached him. The only time he didn't feel like a ghost with flesh was at the memorial service for Cedric out on Hogwarts' grounds. It was there that he wasn't totally alone with his pain; he was sharing it with everyone around him, everyone who knew Cedric — they were all tearful and hurting, just like he was.

Harry was startled when he realized the pain spread past the walls of Hogwarts' and the hearts of Cedric's parents. He saw Oliver Wood standing in the background his eyes red and puffy, trying his best not to shake. Harry didn't want to look, didn't want to see but he was drawn to his old captain, possibly because he wanted to know what connection Oliver had with his former rival, possibly because he just wanted to be with someone who seemed to be hurting as much as he was.

"Hallo, Oliver," Harry mumbled as he approached. Oliver replied with a dry smile.

"Was - was it bad?" Oliver asked eventually eyes starting to well.

"No, it," Harry took a deep breath, "it seemed pretty instantaneous."

"That's, that's good," Oliver smiled that dry smile again.

"You were close?" Harry looked up at Oliver through the fringe of his bangs.

"Yeah," Oliver's eyes flicked over to where Cho was sobbing, "Yeah, we were close." Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose. Harry noticed a limp yellow and black bracelet hanging on his wrist, worn and frayed like an old Hufflepuff scarf. "I got off of practice for this." Oliver exhaled as he brought his hand back down and Harry knew how much that meant. "He was — we were close." Oliver stared at his toe as he dragged it through the mud. "I'm going to go pay my respects." Oliver brought his hand back up to the bridge of his nose.

Harry watched as the young man walked towards Mr. and Mrs. Diggory. He watched as Oliver extended his hand to Cedric's mother, only to pull it back and use it to cover his nose and mouth as his eyes squeezed shut. After a moment he stuffed his hand into his pocket and nodded at the pair, before turning and walking away. The Diggory's watched Oliver's back curiously and sorrowfully until they were approached by another student. Harry watched as Oliver sat down next to Cho Chang pulling the girl in towards his side, where she clung desperately; Harry watched as Oliver used her tears to hide his own.

Harry watched and as he watched, he realized that being with all these people that were in pain because of what happened – because of him – only made his pain greater. He didn't understand all of it, didn't understand Cedric's connections to all of the people there, didn't understand why such a decent person had to die, didn't understand why all of this was happening. The only thing Harry did understand was that he hurt, with a pain of dagger that smashed through his breastbone and into his spine. It was all he could do to walk back into the castle and shut himself inside the curtains of his bed.

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