The look on their faces was enough to say it all. She sat there on the bed stunned. No curse or hex could have hit her harder than this. For a moment it felt as if her face were melting away, then it started. The pain, the immense pain that wouldn’t go away and didn’t go away for a very long time. The pain started in her throat. It was as though she was being strangled. The possibilities with magic were so endless that she could go on for days. Tears poured in a steady mass down her face.

Her body went stiff with shock. She curled up into the tightest of balls and the word DEAD just kept ringing in her head. He’s dead, dead, dead. She had no idea if she was screaming or if it was just in her mind.
No, No, NO, NO, NO, NO! This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it should happen.
She heard more screaming but this came from Mr Diggory. “MY SON!!! MY BEAUTIFUL BOY!”

She made no attempt to move. She wasn’t going to deny it. Wasn’t going to stop him feeling his pain. As she lay on the bed his sobs made the incident more real. She allowed the tears to fill her up. Within a fraction of a moment she became a mess of liquid on the bed, no doubt an event that someone like Rita Skeeter would have called “drowning in tears of young lovers lost” or something like that.

How feelings could have changed so dramatically in such a short space of time was remarkable. One moment there was a young teenage Gryffindor girl looking forward to being with her boyfriend. This girl was full of energy and hope. In one swift moment she had been plunged into the deepest sinking feeling that she had ever known. This puddle was now all that was called Louisa Snape. She had been left unable to control any feelings.
Puddles don’t eat, don’t drink. They expand, contract & exude. After a while they found a way.

“If she won’t drink” said Mme Pomfrey the nurse, who started getting worried after a while “then we will have to pour onto her” and that’s what they did. Mists of different sprays would be put on her at regular intervals.
Over the next few minutes, hours, days she didn’t care what happened. She sat there unmoved. Unwilling to do anything. Professor Snape had set up another bed for himself and was keeping a closer watch than usual on her. She didn’t care. Her brain was in pieces.

It was Amos Diggory that finally brought her around. Others had tried but the phrase. “Do it for Cedric” meant too much. She had to do it. Whatever it was. However hard. For Cedric, because of Cedric. She would find a way to live life because Cedric was unable to.