Chapter 91: Maria Potter and the Goblet of Fire【End】
The next day in the Hospital Wing, I told them everything. How my necklace had been duplicated to act as a Portkey and sent me to the graveyard. How I met up with Harry and Cedric, who had been transported by the Triwizard Cup. How I witnessed Voldemort’s resurrection. How I dueled him. —And how Cedric died protecting me. I told them everything.
And then, I was told what happened here. That Sirius, who had seen the moment I was pulled in by the Portkey, had immediately reported it to Dumbledore. That I had caused a burst of accidental magic, refusing to leave Cedric's body. That when no one else could get close, only Draco—regardless of his own injuries—had managed to calm me down. And... that it was all over.
"Maria, Harry is sleeping right next to you. He should wake up shortly. It was a grueling ordeal. You too... should rest a little longer."
"Yes, sir."
Dumbledore quietly lowered his sparkling blue eyes. I stroked Sirius in his dog form, who had apparently stayed by my side all night, curled up between my bed and Harry's. His softly whistling nose was adorable, and I tickled it with my fingertips. —I didn't want to think about anything.
"Professor, what about Draco?"
"It is nothing severe. Madam Pomfrey has treated him so that not even a scar will remain."
"I see."
I let out a small sigh of relief. I had made him clean up a terrible mess for me. And on top of that, he got hurt... What a complete disaster.
"Maria—could you answer one thing for me?"
Dumbledore, who had half-risen with the intent to leave, stopped in his tracks. I kept stroking Sirius.
"Was this... necessary?"
Sirius's ears twitched. The beloved black dog's breathing remained steady and peaceful.
"Yes."
For the sake of a future where Voldemort is defeated: Harry's victory, Harry's blood, and Voldemort's resurrection—all of it was necessary.
—Everything except the death of Cedric Diggory.
I also spoke with Harry after he woke up. —About what had happened in the maze.
Harry was never originally meant to be the one to grab the Trophy. He had lost to Cedric fair and square, utterly and completely. And just as Cedric was about to take the Trophy—something strange happened. We know now that it was the work of Crouch Jr., but at the time, it was just an entirely bizarre phenomenon.
The Trophy floated into the air and flew straight toward Harry. Naturally, Cedric chased after it. And Harry, confused, caught it. —They touched it at the exact same time. The whole thing was a tragedy.
"It's my fault."
In the Hospital Wing, now devoid of Sirius, Harry and I pressed our shoulders together miserably.
"Cedric didn't need to be there. Yet—why did Cedric have to die? I'm the one he's after... so why did you and Cedric have to suffer? It's my fault. I—"
"I killed him." We spoke the words in unison.
The boy and girl's voices echoed emptily.
"Maria...? Why—but you—you didn't do anything—"
"Quirrell."
Quirrell—? At the name that brought back past pain, Harry's eyes wavered anxiously. His green eyes were so beautiful—and so aggravating.
"I watched Quirrell die."
"What? But, you were... there...?"
"Yes. I asked Dumbledore to let me."
"Then... when I heard your voice back then, it wasn't my imagination..."
"No. I was there. And... I watched until Quirrell took his last breath. I did nothing; I just watched."
"Maria..."
"You laid your hands on him, and I saw it through. —We killed him."
Quirrell couldn't be saved. Parasitized by Voldemort and cursed by unicorn blood, there was no way for him to survive. And you, Harry, would continue to be tormented by a first murder you had no memory of. That is why.
"Cedric and Quirrell... you and I killed them both."
At the very least, let me hold those bloodstained hands and share in your taint. —Because 'I' am you.
"Cedric protected me."
I murmured this to him, who had seemingly settled into his favorite reclining chair without saying a word to me as I lay sprawled on the sofa.
"Hey, you said it before, didn't you? That 'I' bore no responsibility. That everyone was responsible for their own choices."
When I whined about being afraid of losing Sirius—about the hope and despair waiting for us in the future—you despised me for being arrogant. You called it the height of conceit.
"Can you repeat that now? Well, can you? Can you look at this disaster and spout pretty lies like saying it's not my fault!?"
It bubbled up from within. A dark, fiercely boiling pain transformed into a deadly weapon.
"This time! Without a doubt! —It is my responsibility."
Saying it out loud made the reality crash down on me in a terrifying wave.
"Because I could have protected him! This time, I could have saved him! We had the power to do it! —Your sophistry won't work anymore!"
‘It's not your fault.’ —Those words were never kind. Only now, the thorn that had pierced me without my knowing had finally traveled through my bloodstream and skewered my heart.
"I got carried away. Because I managed to save Sirius... I thought Cedric too... I took it lightly. Life. History. I could have stopped it. I knew it was coming. —I let him die. This time, undeniably... it's murder."
Curled up on the sofa, I tried to suppress the heat welling up inside me. It smoldered within, like magma threatening to incinerate me entirely from the inside out.
"What 'fair and square'? It's just an excuse. Sugarcoated nonsense. Ron was right... I'm all talk."
He looked so peaceful,
"Dying with a smile on his face... is no comfort at all."
"Maria."
I reflexively bit my lip. The clear physical pain, rather than the ache inside, made my mind a fraction clearer. I was such a mess that, if I kept going, I felt like I would lash out at him.
"Don't say anything."
Choosing to swallow my raging emotions, my voice trembled pathetically.
"Please. I'll end up saying something awful. If you comfort me now... I'll end up resenting you. Please, I can't... it already hurts too much."
Making absolutely sure not to look at him, I covered my face.
"Every word you say pierces me, and it hurts."
They reach the softest parts of my heart so easily. Once they do, they'll just carve me to pieces with their gentle tone.
"Just stay by my side without saying anything."
"...Yeah."
Draco moved to the empty space on the sofa and stroked my hair.
It's your fault. Because you were here... I saw hope. Because of you... because of your words, because of your existence, it hurts this much.
I swallowed down the anger, the resentment, the pain that threatened to spill over in a muddy mess. I swallowed it... swallowed it...
Exactly as I had pleaded, he stayed beside me without uttering a single word. But his murmur, spoken just as I was falling asleep, didn't manage to chase after my fading consciousness.
"It's always Cedric Diggory who teaches Harry about death, isn't it."
The boy whispered. With the tragic sting of tears welling in his eyes—a sight he had grown entirely accustomed to—he thought of the boy whose heart had been captured by the dead once again. Pitying the one who gets distracted by hope—and ends up covered in his own blood every single time.
"Have you realized, Harry? ...You never say that you 'hate' him."
Please, don't realize it. Until that time comes.
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