HENRY:

All three hands of my watch moved to midnight. I set it down on my dresser and stared at the empty bed beside me.

It was the twentieth of October.

"Happy birthday, Ced," I whispered to the darkness. Sorrow ripped through my chest, and I curled around his jumper in my arms, pressing my face into it as if I might smell well-loved books and rich soil and evergreen-scented soap again if I tried hard enough. As if I could feel his warmth again if I tried hard enough. "You should be here. I'm so sorry you're not."

I pulled the curtains around my bed and whispered a silencing charm before I fell apart completely. I hadn't cried in a while, because, after a while, it had stopped helping. It stopped feeling like a release and started feeling like a chore. As if I had to cry a certain amount every day just to prove to myself that I missed him. When I confessed this to Mum in a letter, she said that even a healing wound was going to hurt, even if it hurt less and less with time. I didn't have to prove to anyone that it still hurt, least of all myself.

But I cried that night. I cried until I fell asleep, until I fell into a dream. Of him, of course.

It wasn't a nightmare. Not that night. It wasn't a memory, either. It was just nonsense. A hazy dream of disconnected images, the kind I usually had when I was sick.

It wasn't a nightmare, and it wasn't a memory, but it was nice. Golden sunshine and Golden Snitches and yellow jumpers and yellow ties. The sound of his laugh tied the images together with a cheerful melody. The specifics of the dream were forgotten as soon as I opened my eyes the next morning, but the warmth radiating off of the jumper still in my arms felt real. So real.

The mood in the dormitory was somber as we silently shuffled around grabbing robes and ties and books and quills for the day. We were all glad it was Friday so we could drink away everything we felt that night without having to worry about waking up for class the next morning. Or, well, that was the plan, anyway, until Lucy came to sit next to me, twisting a black and yellow scarf in her hands.

"Hi," she said. "Sorry, I-I know I'm in his spot—"

"Don't be sorry," I interrupted. "No better person to fill it."

She looked down at the scarf in her hands. "The first meeting is tonight, eight o'clock. Room of Requirement, seventh floor across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Will you tell the others in your house?"

"Oh, I— yes, of course."

"I thought it seemed symbolic," Lucy mumbled, glancing back up at me. "Doing it today, I mean."

"Oh, yes, definitely." I nodded. "Great idea. Sorry, it just... caught me off-guard, I suppose. But I think it's a great idea, really."

"Thanks," she replied with half a smile. "So you'll be there?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

She smiled a bit wider and started to leave, but I reached for her elbow.

"Lucy?" Her eyes met mine, and I swallowed hard. They were his eyes, too. Just blue, not grey, and far more haunted than his ever were. I forced the thought from my mind. "If you need anything, today especially, just let me know. Alright?"

"Same goes for you," Lucy replied, nodding.

I nodded back. "We can be sad together, which is far less pitiful than being sad alone."

"Did Cedric tell you that?"

"Maybe," I said with a small smile.

"I thought that sounded like him."

With that, she headed to the Gryffindor table and slid in between the twins, her face shifting into a mask of confidence and enthusiasm. Just like that. I knew I really ought to try to get through to her, somehow, try to convince her there was nothing wrong with being honest about her grief, but I wasn't quite sure how to do that. At least not the way I knew Cedric always could.

Just the same, I was determined to do my best. I told the fifth- and sixth-years about the meeting during breakfast and whispered back and forth with the seventh-years during Herbology. I knew that most, if not all, of the Gryffindor seventh-years also in that class were part of the group, too, so I felt rather safe talking about it there.

That's why, after class, I was so nervous when Professor Sprout asked to talk to me for a moment.

I wiped my suddenly sweaty hands on my robes and approached the front of the greenhouse. "Yes, Professor?"

She smiled, the gesture kind but sad and wrought with meaning. "Hello, Henry. How are you today?"

"I, er, I'm alright," I said, shrugging. "It's his birthday. Or, well, it should be. I'm sorry, you probably already knew that—"

"It's alright," Professor Sprout interrupted gently. "I know. I'm sorry to add one more thought to an already troubling day, but I was hoping you could offer a bit of insight for me, as the Hufflepuff who knew Cedric best."

"Er, right." I nodded. "Of course. How can I help?"

"Are you familiar with magical portraits, Henry?"

My mouth went dry, so I nodded again.

She smiled knowingly. "I sense you have an idea of where this is going?"

"I think so, Professor."

"I wanted to ask you if you think a magical portrait of Cedric in the Hufflepuff common room would be helpful at all, for the generations of Hufflepuffs to come."

"Oh yes," I said. "Merlin, yes."

Something stirred deep inside me. The tiniest bit of light. Hope. It had been a while since I felt hope.

"I thought you might say that. The portrait wouldn't be Cedric, not fully as he was, but with input from those who knew him best, we can help make it as close as possible."

I nodded. "I can help with that. I spent more time in the common room with him than possibly anyone else. Does Lucy know?"

Professor Sprout shook her head. "I had the fifth-years before your class, but she and Mr. Potter seemed rather caught up in conversation so I thought it would be best not to interrupt. They look out for each other well, those two. Not unlike you and Cedric, in fact."

"I'm glad she has Harry, and vice versa," I agreed. "Well, Professor, I'll start figuring out what would be most important to include. For now... Transfiguration knowledge. He was the best at that. We older students are trying, but he understood it inside and out. He found a way to help it make sense to everyone, and we just can't do that."

"I'll be sure to mention that," she said with a sad smile. "And Henry, if you ever need support, you know where to find me."

"And you know where to find me," I replied.

"Helping, as always?"

Heat crept to my cheeks. "Doing my best to help, anyway."

"With you, Mr. Furls, those ideas are one and the same."

~

A bit before eight o'clock, I made my way to the seventh floor alone. I found the door easily enough and knocked. Ron Weasley let me in, and I marveled at the room. It was perfect.

I was the first person there aside from the Rita-Skeeter-dubbed "quintessential quirky quartet." Hermione Granger was sitting on one of the cushions with her nose already buried in a book from one of the many bookshelves, Harry Potter was firing spells at one of the training dummies and casting glances over his shoulder at Lucy, who was pinning something to a bulletin board that had been hung on one of the mirrors. When I headed her direction, I saw that it was a picture of Cedric from after the second task of the Tournament. I was clinging to his back like a monkey, Lucy was alternating between talking to Cedric and sticking her tongue out at someone behind her just out of the frame, and Cho and Cedric were both laughing. It was a moment I remembered well. I could understand why Lucy remembered it so well, too.

She turned around suddenly. "Oh! Henry! Hi! Sorry! When did you get here?"

"Just now," I replied, "don't worry. The others are coming, too, I just..." My voice died as I looked up at the photograph again. "Who took that?"

"Colin Creevey," she said. "He, er, gave me all of the pictures of Cedric he has. I only just started going through the box tonight. I'll give you the ones of you two, I promise, I just, er, n-needed some time before... before..."

I nodded. "I understand. It's alright." I cleared my throat. "Neat room you found here."

"Isn't it?" she agreed with a grin. She glanced over my shoulder and waved at the newcomers. "Hi Neville, hi Luna, hi Ginny, hi Archie, hi Cam!"

When everyone opted to take seats on the cushions, I decided to fill my own. Lucy headed over to Harry, and the two started talking in low voices that none of the rest of us could hear. It wasn't hard to guess what they were saying, though — at one point, Harry took firm hold of Lucy's shoulders and shook her a bit, grinning, and it looked as if he said, "You. Will. Be. Fine. Trust me." With that, she tightened her ponytail and checked her watch.

Wait. No. Not her watch.

Cedric's watch. The one I had seen him secure around his wrist 365 days prior, when he turned seventeen.

I glanced back up at the photograph before anyone could see me, see my distress. I had nothing against her wearing it, nothing at all. Just like I had nothing against her sitting in his spot. If anyone deserved to occupy the space he once held, if anyone deserved the love he always received, it was Lucy. But it still hurt. Knowing it should have still been on his wrist, knowing she shouldn't have to try to bear that burden, knowing none of what was happening should have been happening.

Lucy and Harry moved to the center of the room, Harry giving her shoulder one last squeeze as she lifted her wand.

"Colloportus," she said. When the key in the lock twisted with a resounding click, everyone fell silent. Lucy lifted her chin and managed a brave smile. "Hi, everyone. Thanks for heading down tonight. Or up, as the case may be for those of you in the dungeons."

A couple of people grinned, and Archie flashed her a thumbs-up.

Harry was not quite so articulate. He seemed rather flustered, which was odd, I thought, because Lucy was the one flustered around Harry, from what I could recall from Cedric's observations of the pair.

"Well, this is the place we've found for practices," he stammered, "and you've — er — obviously found it okay, so that's good."

"It's fantastic!" Cho piped up, and Harry flushed bright red.

Oh Merlin's pants, he fancies Cho. Bloody hell, Harry, Lucy is RIGHT there. You have glasses, for Merlin's sake—

"It's bizarre. We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George?" Fred piped up.

"Yeah, I do, but it was just a broom cupboard then," he replied, drumming his fingers against his chin. "You know, I've always wanted to try ballet like those trolls in the tapestry outside, d'you reckon we could turn this into a ballet studio if we tried hard enough, Cub?"

Lucy snorted. "Be my guest as soon as we're done here tonight. Anyway, does anyone have any questions?"

"Yeah, what's that stuff?" Dean Thomas (I thought — Ced was always better with names) asked.

Harry answered this time. "Dark Detectors. Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't want to rely on them too much, they, er... they can be fooled." He and Lucy shared a brief glance, and Harry cleared his throat. "Anybody else? Er, Hermione?"

"I think we ought to elect a leader," she said.

"Harry's leader," Cho replied as she glanced incredulously at Hermione.

"Hey, wait, Lucy too," George added. "Just because she hasn't faced off against You-Know-Who doesn't mean she doesn't know anything."

"Yeah, we've been over this once already, haven't we?" Fred huffed.

"I think we ought to vote on it properly," Hermione said over everyone else. "Alright, how many people want Harry and Lucy to be co-leaders?"

Every hand raised — some a tad more reluctantly than others, but they all did after a moment.

Hermione leaned forward on her cushion. "I also think we ought to have a name! It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

Angelina's eyebrows shot up. "Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?"

"Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?" Fred posited with a cheesy grin.

Hermione cringed. "I was thinking more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defense Association? The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?" Cho asked.

"Ooh!" Ginny Weasley sat up a bit taller. "Yeah, the D.A.'s good, only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"

Lucy and Harry exchanged an amused glance and turned to look at Hermione.

"All in favor of the D.A.?" Hermione asked.

Lucy scanned the room. "Looks like a majority to me."

"Brilliant," Harry agreed with a nod as Hermione scribbled DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY across the top of the piece of parchment from the day at the Hog's Head with all of our names and pinned it to the board under the picture Lucy had hung. Once she sat down again, Harry cleared his throat. "Right. Shall we get practicing, then? Lucy and I were thinking the first thing we should do is 'expelliarmus,' you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful—"

Zacharias huffed. "Oh please. I don't think that is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

"I've used it against him. It saved my life last June."

The room fell silent. My mind was spinning. Cedric knew the Disarming Charm, he KNEW the Disarming Charm, so how...

"If you want, we could use one of the spells that saved my life in August," Lucy said, twirling her wand in between her fingers. "I could show you how to transfigure dirt into glitter or make your opponent's eyelashes grow down to the ground with a modified version of 'densaugeo,' but Harry and I agreed 'expelliarmus' was a bit more applicable for most situations, including a duel with Voldemort."

"But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave." Harry shrugged.

No one moved. I was still struggling to catch up. "Saved my life in August?" Lucy? What happened to Lucy? And wait, a duel with-

Lucy and Harry exchanged another quick glance and nodded.

"Alright, everyone should probably partner up and start practicing," Harry said.

"The training dummies don't put up much of a fight," Lucy quipped, "so you'll want a human partner for this particular spell. And for future reference, Harry counts as a human partner and not a training dummy. I understand that there might be some confusion, but I can assure you, Harry's more skilled than the dummies... at least a little bit, anyway."

That prompted quite a few giggles as the room came to life. I saw Neville Longbottom backing away from the crowd, defeat already written on his face, so I made a beeline straight for him and offered a smile.

"Neville, right?"

He blinked in surprise, as if he couldn't believe someone had approached him. "Er, y-yeah, yeah, that's me. You're Henry? Furls?"

"That's me! D'you have a partner yet?"

Neville shook his head. "You probably don't want me as a partner, though, I'm dead awful at magic—"

I waved him off. "Nonsense. Besides, the whole point of this is to get stronger, right? Doesn't matter where we start."

"I-I guess so."

"Alright, everyone partnered up?" Harry asked over the general commotion.

Lucy craned her neck. "Looks like it. Alright, everyone, Harry and I will walk around and make suggestions where needed. Now give it a go!"

A number of shouts of "EXPELLIARMUS!" filled the air, and chaos effectively ensued. I beat Neville to it, and his wand flew into my hand. I passed it back immediately, then turned around to make sure nothing (or no one) was broken. Lucy and Harry had already decided to divide and conquer, it seemed — Lucy had gravitated toward two very young-looking Gryffindors, and Harry was heading in the direction of the Weasley twins, who were apparently screwing with Zacharias. I couldn't help but laugh. In my distraction, my wand flew out of my hand and directly into Neville's.

"I did it!" Neville's eyes were wide. "I've never done it before! I did it!"

"That was brilliant, Neville!" I said as I grabbed my wand back from him. "Shall we give it another go?"

I successfully disarmed him all three times, but before I could offer advice, Harry suddenly appeared behind Neville.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"I'm one for five," Neville replied in a strained voice.

"That's excellent! Make it two for six."

"I don't know if I can—"

"Well, I do. I know you can. Give it a shot."

I held my hands out. "I won't try to disarm you at the same time. We can work up to that."

But when he tried, my wand remained firmly in my hand.

Harry pursed his lips. "Neville, what happened the one time you disarmed him?"

"He wasn't paying attention," Neville admitted. "He was looking away."

"Oh, I see. Henry, do you mind holding your wand up again?"

"Not at all," I replied, doing so.

"If your intentions are clear, Neville, you won't hurt him," Harry said gently. "Focus on just ejecting the wand from his hand, and that's what will happen. You don't have to be afraid of something else happening."

Neville gnawed on his lower lip. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." Harry glanced away for half a second. "You know, come to think of it, I think Lucy might be having the same problem. Care to test my theory? It might help her in the future."

The mention of Lucy made Neville's eyes widen, but he nodded. He stared down the wand in my hand for a second before saying, "Expelliarmus!"

Surely enough, the wand was launched out of my hand.

Harry grinned. "Brilliant, Neville! Keep trying! And er, Henry, keep doing what you're doing!" He turned on his heel and craned his neck. "Oi, Lu!"

"Right behind you," she said. "Listen, I've been leaving Cho and Marietta alone for you, so I recommend you get over yourself and go tell Cho she's doing a great job, because she's disarmed Marietta twice as often as Marietta's disarmed her."

Whatever Harry was going to say to Lucy was forgotten as he turned a brilliant shade of red and muttered, "Cheeky git."

"I learned from the best," she replied with a dazzling smile. She pushed him forward in the direction of the Ravenclaw girls and waved at his retreating form. "Don't embarrass yourself too much!"

I laughed, unable to help myself, and Neville did too.

Lucy grinned. "It's altogether too easy to tease him, if you know how to do it. Has he already helped you two, by the way?"

"Yeah! I disarmed Henry just now!" Neville informed her.

"Brilliant! Sorry, Henry, house pride," she added with a laugh.

I waved her off. "Yeah, whatever you say."

"Well, if you two are good here..." She glanced over my shoulder and winced. "Terry Boot's wand was just shot straight into Alicia Spinnet's nose. I should probably make sure wounded pride is the only serious injury."

Neville and I both laughed again as she ducked away through the crowd. I was impressed by her, by how well she was holding it together, but I knew better than to assume it was anything other than a performance. So at the end of the night, as everyone filtered out of the room in groups of threes and fours, I hung back.

Lucy was standing in front of the bulletin board, another photograph in her shaking hands. When she hung it up, I realized it was from his birthday a couple years back, when we had a picnic on the front steps of the castle before classes. I glanced away, unable to let myself relive such a happy memory, and I spied Harry watching her with concern. I walked a bit closer and caught his eye.

"It's his birthday," I whispered.

His eyes widened. "Oh. Right. I was wondering what was bothering her today."

I nodded, but before I could say anything else, she turned around, her face a careful blank. This mask shattered, however, when a table with two chairs, two pieces of parchment, and two quills suddenly appeared in between us.

Lucy sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes flickering between me and the table as they filled with tears. I felt as if I'd been stricken, too. I know why those had appeared.

It would only be right to wish Cedric a happy birthday as best we possibly could.

"You alright, Lu?" Harry asked in a gentle voice, clearly confused but wanting to help.

She nodded after a long pause. "I-I'm okay. I'm just going to stay a bit longer, I think."

"Lucy, it's technically past curfew," Hermione piped up.

"I can walk back with her," I said, trying to keep the tremble in my voice to a minimum. "I haven't done anything to make Umbridge hate me yet, so I doubt she'd give me trouble."

Harry seemed reluctant to leave Lucy, but he eventually nodded. "See you in the common room?"

"See you in the common room," she agreed in a whisper.

Lucy and I remained frozen in place until the door closed behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Our eyes met, and we both understood what came next. We each slid into a chair and reached for quills.