Cedric bowed his head, listening with a heavy heart. He only knew of those times from his parents' stories, the explanations for why certain people didn't have their parents. And according to Harry, the war had resumed right after he'd died. Yes, this was his first time fighting in these conditions.

He was here, and therefore he had a purpose. That was enough for Stacy, and it would be enough for him. Cedric lowered his fingers to his wand, determination overtaking his thoughts. "I'm fighting. Some...well, some say I shouldn't, to give myself longer to live. But we have no idea whether that would work, for a start, and it's not right. People are depending on us."

He'd gotten back into the 'fighter' mode, completely glossing over the issue of his reluctance to make new friends, but that would be forcibly addressed in time. Several people would demand it.