Cedric had only barely resolved to do just that when he froze. What? Only the important? What was that supposed to mean? What made a spare casually murdered more important than the dozens of young Hufflepuffs he herded through the common room every morning? Than all the wizards in their homes waiting for their children? The Muggles, who were no less valuable? Not to mention all the creatures, the culture, the information that was now lost.

His hair fell over his eyes. "Who decides who's more important than anyone else? That's just cruel."

He had no idea where in the web of supposedly important people he fell. His father could be dead. Cho, all those students, the professors. The only one he was sure would be alive was Harry Potter, important to all of their world as he was. Maybe Professor Dumbledore too. But everyone else was just cast aside.

"So that's what Stacy meant," he whispered in a dejected voice. "We're protectors of what's left."