This is my second attempt at a 2k father son fic, that again, didn't reach the word count. I am fairly proud of this one though, so I hope you enjoy.

Warning - Canon Character Death, and just sadness.

W/C Without AN - 1279

Written for

Spells/Charms/Curses Comp - Avada Kedavra

Disney Character Comp - Daisy Duck

Animal Comp - Ant

Taken Too Soon

Amos held his son in his arms, promising to look after him, to cherish him, to help him grow into a fine young man. He didn't know that a mere seventeen years later, he would again be holding his son in his arms, this time staring into the lifeless eyes of a fine young man who died too soon.

xxxx

Amos rocked his son to sleep, something he seemed to be doing lately. He didn't mind, it gave him time to think, to dream, to wonder all the things his son would do in life. What house would he be in when he started Hogwarts? What would be his favorite subject? Would he like Quidditch? Amos knew none of those things really mattered, but it made him happy to wonder. He looked forward to finding out the answers to those questions and more. He looked forward to watching his son grow up.

xxxx

Cedric sat gurgling happily in his high chair, making Amos laugh as his wife tried to feed their son.

"Da."

Amos looked up, wonder in his eyes as his son stared at him, that cheeky grin in place.

"Da da!"

Cedric's first word. It was fitting. As Cedric grew up, he would go to his father first about everything.

xxxx

"Daddy, daddy, look, I'm doing it!" An excited cry had Amos laughing and clapping as his four year old son flew a broom for the first time. He was a natural, Amos thought, as he watched on proudly. His son could be a famous Quidditch Star, a chaser or a seeker, perhaps.

xxxx

"Read me a story, daddy?" Cedric asked, a yawn escaping him as Amos settled him into bed.

"Which one would you like?" Amos asked, knowing the answer but asking anyway.

"Godric the Dragon Slayer!" Cedric replied with a grin that melted Amos' heart. His son could be a dragon chaser.

xxxx

"Cedric? What are you doing, son?" Amos asks. Cedric has been quiet for far too long and that can only mean one thing. He was up to something.

"In a minute, dad," Cedric replied, shifting slightly so his father can't see what he's doing. Amos waits impatiently, though the lack of blood, loud noises, or screaming has settled his nerves somewhat.

"Here, dad. Happy Father's day."

A Card. His son has drawn him a Fathers day card. Of course, Cedric's mum will buy one, but no other card could ever mean as much as this one does. Its well drawn, even for a six year old. His son could be an artist.

xxxx

"Ced? Are you ready son?" Amos called up the stairs.

"I'm coming dad," Cedric replied as he raced down the stairs. His trunk was packed ready, and the eleven year old boy was bouncing where he stood as he waited for his mother to join them.

He was starting Hogwarts, and while Cedric was excited, Amos was purely nervous. How could he allow his son to go to Hogwarts, how could he bear to have him so far away. What if he hurt himself? Amos wouldn't be there with a hug and a story, wouldn't be able to make his son feel better.

"What's wrong, dad?" Cedric asked, noticing the sad look on his fathers face.

"Nothing, son, I'm fine. I'll miss you," Amos replied, ruffling the lads hair.

"Dad! You'll mess it up!" Cedric complained, running a hand over his carefully messed hair.

Amos laughed. His son could always cheer him up.

xxxx

Dear Dad,

I got into Hufflepuff, dad! Just like you! Are you proud? I hope you are. Hogwarts is huge, isn't it? I can't wait for lessons to start! Professor Sprout is so nice. She came to see us before bed time, and told us if we had any problems to go and see her. She said that our house is like our family, and Professor McGonagall said the same thing.

We're still family too though right, dad? We'll always be family, right? Because you're my dad, and I love you.

I'll write again tomorrow dad. Have fun at work. How's mum?

Love,

Cedric.

Amos shook his head, wiping tears away as he read his son's first letter. His son could always make him cry.

xxxx

"You won Ced! You beat Harry Potter!" Amos crowed when they got home. In his happiness, he failed to notice the frown on his son's face.

"It was the Dementors. We should have had a replay. He's a kid, and the Dementors made him pass out," Cedric snarled, shocking his father out of his joy.

"Ced?"

"I'm going to my room. I'll be down for dinner."

Amos sighed as he sat down in the front room. His son could always humble him.

xxxx

"Straight O's son! Congratulations!" Amos cheered as his son handed him his Owl Results. Amos could have burst with pride for his son, as he pulled him into a hug. "We'll have to celebrate. What do you want to do?"

"I'm not bothered. Fishing?"

"You want to go fishing with your old man?"

"Sure."

Amos grinned as he agreed. His son could always surprise him.

xxxx

"I was chosen as the Champion, Dad. Me!"

"That's amazing, Ced. I told you you could do it. I told you!"

"I'll make you proud, Dad, I promise."

"You always do, Ced."

Amos grinned happily to himself as Cedric cut the floo connection. What he had said was true. His son could always make him proud.

xxxx

Amos sat in the crowd, waiting for his son to emerge with the cup in hand, victorious. He heard a whooshing sound, saw Dumbledore move quickly. He saw a glint of gold, and a flash of black, and knew Potter had returned with the cup. He heard a whisper of death, but he ignored it, looking around for his son. They would bring him out of the maze now, surely, now that the cup was back.

"Diggory... dead... Diggory's dead..."

Whispers all around Amos confused him, they made no sense. He wasn't dead, he was alive and well. He was looking for his son. Why couldn't he find him? And why was Potter still lay on the ground. He should be stood proudly, the way Cedric would be, if he had won.

"Diggory's dead!"

The whispers were getting louder, but they still made no sense, and it was annoying Amos.

He made his way down the steps. Whispers of nonsensical words echoed in his ears. He saw yellow and black. Why was Cedric laying with Potter? Did they fight over the cup? No, Cedric wouldn't do that. Did they tie for it? Did Ced help Potter back?

Potter was crying.

He was clinging to Cedric.

Cedric lay unmoving.

His eyes wide open.

Not my son.

No.

Not my Cedric.

xxxx

Days, weeks, they all passed Amos by. He didn't notice them. He didn't care about them. He wanted Cedric back. Cedric, who could have been a professional Quidditch Player. Cedric, who could have chased Dragons. Cedric, who could have been anything he wanted to be, had been taken away too soon. Voldemort, Voldemort had killed his son.

Why did it have to be Cedric? Why wasn't it Potter? Why had Potter survived, again, and Cedric hadn't?

Amos didn't care about anything anymore.

Cedric was gone.

There was nothing left to care about.

Cedric was gone.

Taken too early.

Taken too soon.