That summer was by far the worst of my life. I spent most days cooped up in my room going through old photo albums and pretty much anything I could find that reminded me of Cedric. My mom kept trying to talk to me and get me to open up. She attempted to question me about what happened almost every day, but to be honest, I wasn’t even sure I knew what had happened that night. I never got my broomstick out of the cupboard the whole three months that I was home. At times I wondered if it might be good to get outside and fly around for a while, but I convinced myself out of it every time.  

The few times I actually slept; my dreams were filled with nightmares of Cedric. After a while, my mom noticed my lack of sleep the few times she came to my room to give me food or whatnot. She made me at least try to sleep each night, and she would constantly come in my room checking on me to make sure I was sleeping. I faked it most of the time, but I would rather do that then have to relive the moment seeing Cedric’s body being carried out of the maze.  

At one point my mom even tried to invite my old friend from muggle school over because I was so depressed. Luckily, she couldn’t come over, but soon after my friend Marrietta invited me to spend the weekend at her house. I made up a dumb excuse and stayed at my house instead. She seemed suspicious with my response, but said it was okay. All summer, my friends kept reaching out, and I made excuse after excuse, so I didn’t have to see anyone except my mom and dad. 

Did I even want to see them? Of course not. I would rather just be all alone where I can sulk in peace without having mom try to give me a grilled cheese sandwich every five minutes. And yes, she has continuously done that along with an entire tub of ice cream. I understood why she thought I needed stuff like that, but extra calories and hugs so tight I seriously thought they would break my ribcage was not the answer to my issues. Cedric was the answer to my issues. Too bad I can’t have him.  

As the end of the summer neared, I began to question whether I really wanted to go back to Hogwarts. I tried to talk to my dad about it, but he didn’t quite understand due to him being a muggle and all. He had never been to Hogwarts, so he didn’t know what I was even going back too. I couldn’t talk to my mom because she would just tell me to go back and that I would regret it if I didn’t.  

I was just so scared for memories or flashbacks but at that, I realized that I would never get over Cedric unless I proved to myself, I could move on. That entire summer I had stayed in my room, afraid of what would happen if I left, but how would I know what would happen? I had to go out into the real world and face my fears whether I liked it or not.