| Inked | (George Weasley)

Chapter Eighty-Four

Cho screamed.

Amos Diggory was pushing through the four Ministry workers who were trying to hold him back, "Please! That's my son! That's my boy..."

His cries sent chills down everyone's spine. It was too much to watch him shakily push through, falling to his knees once he reached his dead son's body. Nobody could do anything to block out his sobs.

Dumbledore was trying to pry Harry off of Cedric's body. The Gryffindor was too stunned and exhausted to move, his iron grip not wanting to let go of the Hufflepuff's shoulders.

The color was slowly draining from Olive's face, her features going pale and muted, her eyes unblinking and widening in shock. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Her glassy stare would not leave the traumatic scene in front of her.

Her hands were stiff, clenched into tight fists hidden in the sleeves of George's sweater.

No...

She didn't want to believe it, she couldn't believe it. Just this morning she and Cedric were laughing and joking like they'd been doing their entire lives. He was alive, breathing, planning what he would be doing after the Third Task with no clue that he would die.

"Students, please head back to your common rooms immediately." Professor McGonagall announced, her voice tight and shrill over the commotion, "Your Heads of House will be with you shortly."

Teachers and prefects were trying to escort students away in an organized fashion, but it was no use. People were confused, scared, upset. The entire Hufflepuff house looked like they had been kicked in the stomach.

Natalie was practically carrying Cho away from the stands, who had buried her head into the blonde's robes, her shoulders shaking with choked sobs. On Olive's other side, Fred and George were trying to figure out what to do with the near-catatonic girl next to them.

"Olls."

George's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper as he grabbed her hands gently. He was trying to swallow his own uneasiness, and was unsure on how to console Olive. She was trembling, her hands clammy. Any minute she looked like she'd break down into a panic attack.

To her, he sounded far away, fuzzy, like someone shoved cotton between her ears. Everything sounded like that. The world around her spun at a dizzying pace, and it was everything she could do to simply remember to breathe.

Slowly, she met his gaze, tears welling in her eyes. She was still processing the last few minutes, her mind starting to jumble and lose focus. It broke George's heart to see her grief-stricken, stunned expression.

"Come on, love." He coaxed her, carefully guiding her to stand, "Let's go back to the castle, okay?"

George felt like he was walking on glass. He wanted more than anything to be able to take Olive's pain away, and it saddened him to know that there was nothing he could do. The only thing that seemed helpful was getting her back to the castle with everyone else.

Once the Ravenclaw was steadily on her feet, George escorted her out of the stands. Fred took the girl's other side, the two fearful that she would collapse.

Cedric Diggory was dead...

No matter how many times the phrase bounced around in her brain, the words didn't fully process. Olive wanted more than anything to pull away from the twins and run back to Cedric's corpse and shake the life back into him. Her body, though, was on auto-pilot, being carefully watched by the twins as she walked uneasily back to the castle.