Ernie wished he could offer Cedric some form of physical comfort-- to hug him or to hold his hand, anything in the moment, because he was sure that talking about your own Death was a horrible, horrible thing. Then again, explaining what had happened afterwards was horrid as well, and Ernie’s whole body ran cold as he forced himself to speak, just after nodding at his friend for a moment.
“Yeah, he did come back.” Ernie said softly, “and it was hell. There was a war, with a lot of casualties. Muggleborns were being taken left and right, and parts of the school remain in ruins. But-- I mean--- the important thing to remember is that good still won. Harry destroyed Voldemort, and we no longer have to fear him.” Ernie tried to sound confident, but hadn’t they thought Harry killed Voldemort once upon a time too. “Though, of course, now we’re trapped in the school with a super sickness taking our magic.”
“I’m fine.” He assured the ghost with a small little smile, “I don’t think there is anything I need help with. Unless you’ve got some sort of recipe for disease-cure-all in your… realm.”