AN: Alright, well this is my first HP fic ever, so I'm a bit nervous and I hope any reviewers will be gentle, but please do review and critique! I hope anyone who reads this enjoys :)
A few things about the story: I am not yet sure what any pairings will be, I have a rough storyboard for what I want this story to contain but that isn't something I've decided on just yet. It will most likely be Cedric/OC but don't hold me to that. Aside from that, this story takes place in an AU in which Cedric did not die in Goblet of Fire. This prologue is essentially in place to explain that as well as to serve as something of a foundation for the rest of the story, in conjunction with the next chapter (in the works)
This story takes place post-second-wizarding-war and in it Cedric works as a freelance ingredient hunter for apothecaries across wizarding Britain. I thought it would be interesting to explore what kinds of careers somebody could take on in the wizarding world besides working for the Ministry, Gringotts, or opening a shop. Hunting down rare magical fauna and flora and such seemed interesting so I went with that. However this story will have more drama to it than immediately meets the eye so look forward to that.
I unfortunately am not able to commit to a hard update schedule at this time but I will be trying to update this story every 2 weeks.
Anyway now that this overly long AN is out of the way, please enjoy and rate and review :)
Prologue:
Cedric was familiar with the usual tug like a fishing hook behind the naval that he associated with the magic of a portkey, but in this instance it took him completely by surprise. As he took hold of the Triwizard Cup, together with his schoolmate Harry Potter, he was glad to finally be done with the tournament. Confident enough in his abilities without any tournament to validate them, he had never cared much to participate. He endured because he knew when he returned to the school, a champion among champions, he would be greeted by the pride in his father's eyes. However, as his hand clasped around the silver handle, its ethereal light shining faintly through his fingers, he could think only of how comfortable his bed would feel that night and how glad he would be the term would be coming to a close. He looked forward to relaxing in the shade of the large Blackthorn tree in the garden of his parents countryside home in Devon, the mental image of which got him through many a moment of panic and anxiety during this trying final year at Hogwarts.
Cedric suddenly felt his body crash into the ground back first, knocking the wind out of him and shaking him from his pleasant thoughts. As he blinked tears from his eyes and rolled over onto his knees and elbows, he heard a weak voice, icy as the January frost, croak out a barely audible command. Cedric had no time to consider what the voice had said before he saw a small green ball of light hurtling toward him. His reaction to roll out of the way came just in time, he could only look at the spell as it passed through where he had just been, dense and opaque as if solid, and so bright it left a trail across his vision as if the sun itself was cutting across his retina. Cedric knew what would have happened had he been hit with the killing curse. He had faced deadly opponents before, this year having helped him to learn how to apply his already excellent skills, but there was no strategy to beat a killing curse. Cedric panicked. Without stopping to think, acting purely on survival instinct, he summoned the portkey to himself with a quick Accio, and felt that familiar tug behind his naval once again. It felt like an eternity before Cedric rematerialized in the Quidditch Pitch at Hogwarts. Initially he was briefly relieved he had escaped, however that feeling almost instantly gave way to a new, horrible one. He had left Harry behind. He had left him behind to die. He hadn't been thinking straight when he had acted, his body essentially moved of its own accord, survival instincts taking over and conscious thought going out the window. But still, he had left Harry behind. Cedric knew he had to fix this. He couldn't let Harry die there, or he'd be just as bad as the Death Eaters who killed him. As he resolved to fix the mess he had created, he rematerialized in the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts, a band beginning to play and the audience cheering a deafening roar for their Champion, none louder than one Amos Diggory. However, upon Cedric's frantic dash toward the Headmaster, a wild look in his eye, the patrons appeared confused, and the band stopped playing section by section, the brass letting out a few lingering notes as they realized that only one Champion was present, and he was now yelling at the Headmaster.
"Help - Trophy - Portkey - Killing Curse - Graveyard - Harry!" Cedric choked out between ragged and frantic breaths.
Professor Dumbledore's face quickly lost its visage of geniality and melted into a look of intense focus. The lines upon his face quickly became pronounced wrinkles as his brow furrowed in concentration. His keen blue eyes met Cedric's and suddenly the younger man was overcome with the sensation of a foreign force inside his mind, like a needle gently working its way through his brain. Images were suddenly flashed in his mind's eye, those of the maze, gripping the cup with Harry, the Blackthorn tree in his parents' garden, the graveyard and the ball of green light, and finally the Triwizard Cup hurtling toward Cedric. The feeling of an alien presence lifted and Cedric found himself weary and drained. He fell to his hands and knees, catching a brief expression of disappointment upon Dumbledore's face. The headmaster turned to Professor Snape. He spoke to him quietly but forcefully, though Cedric could not make out the Headmaster's words. Snape moved his head downward once in a nod of understanding and resolve, and then briskly walked toward the gates of the castle. Dumbledore then cast seven copies of his Phoenix patronus, which formed mid-flight and flew on fiery silver wings after Snape and off the grounds.
"Sir - I can apparate you to the Graveyard to help Harry." Cedric ground out through a shaky breath. He was still on the ground, though he had risen to his knees and was sitting on his heels, regaining his strength from the draining experience he had just endured.
"That won't be necessary Mr. Diggory, and I quite suspect you would have trouble apparating there alone in your current state, let alone with a side-along. Fortunately, I have already been nearby to that Graveyard. Remain here out of harm's way." The Headmaster stated in an even tone.
Cedric gritted his teeth in frustration, Dumbledore couldn't keep him here! He had seen what had happened just moments ago in the graveyard - surely he understood that Cedric had no choice?
"I have to help Professor, it's my fault Harry is stuck there in the first place!"
The wizened professor almost rolled his eyes, the keenness of some to put themselves in harm's way always dumbfounded him, and yet inspired him all the same.
"There's no time to argue the matter, you're of age, come if you must, but I urge you to consider whether that decision is wise."
"There's no decision to be made, sir."
Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt sat hunched over in a luxurious but well worn leather armchair in the study of his London flat. The matching footrest was some distance away, a previously discarded topographical map of Albania resting on top of it. The silk curtains were drawn over a large bay window, allowing a mild natural light to enter the room. Three of the walls housed tall bookshelves, with tomes old and new neatly placed upon them. Kingsley was poring over an old edition of the Daily Prophet, reading the article that had remained stuck in the back of his mind for some weeks, about the disappearance of a ministry witch from the Department of Magical Games and Sports several months prior, one Bertha Jorkins. Kingsley arduously leaned back, allowing himself to collapse into the back of his armchair, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling, taking in a deep breath, and closing his eyes. He stayed like this for several seconds before returning to a normal sitting position and lifting his eyelids. When he did, he saw a Phoenix patronus fly into his study and perch itself atop a globe of Mars in the corner of the room. The patronus opened its beak and out came the voice of Albus Dumbledore.
"Harry Potter has been taken away from the Triwizard Tournament. He is located in a graveyard in an unknown location. We are operating under the assumption Voldemort is present in the graveyard. Rendezvous at Hogwarts immediately."
Kingsley delicately lifted his wand from its place on the small side table next to his armchair and placed it in an inner pocket of his robe, downed the remaining bit of his Scotch with a grimace, and stepped into the hall of his flat. He briefly ensured the security of the wards on his home as he walked toward and out the front door, took a few carefully measured paces off his doorstep, and gracefully twisted, disappearing and reappearing outside the gates of Hogwarts.
As Kingsley stepped onto the grounds of the school, he felt the magic of the powerful wards there wash over him. He had been keyed into the school's warding structure during the last academic year. Officially this was in case Sirius Black had made an appearance at the school. However, the true reason Albus had maneuvered for Kingsley to be selected as one of the Aurors assigned to the task was due to his membership to the Order of the Phoenix. Kingsley was the last to arrive of the seven members the Headmaster had summoned, due to the patronus needing to travel to London from Scotland in order to reach him. It did not take long, but Patronuses could not apparate. The sun was beginning to set, casting a bright reflection on shimmering surface of the Black lake as Kingsley approached the rest of the Order. Kingsley recognized an apprentice Auror he had seen in the new recruit trainings he had attended as a supervisor, as well as his colleague Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. He also recognized Sirius Black from the wanted posters, though he was privy to the innocence of the man. There were two men and one woman Kingsley didn't recognize.
"Thank you all for coming so quickly," the Headmaster began. "Harry Potter is currently being held in a Graveyard, presumably by Voldemort and his followers. I will soon know the exact location, at which point the eight of us will enact a rescue."
"Do you expect us to just wait here patiently until then?!" Sirius exclaimed, his face in a grimace.
"That's not helping Sirius, I want to help Harry as much as you do, but all we can do presently is prepare for the rescue" one of the men Kingsley didn't recognize said urgently.
"Do you ever stop being so bloody level-headed Remus?" the fugitive asked with an exasperated tone and a roll of the eyes.
"Both of you stop bickering, we're headed into a war zone and I won't be killed because either of you weren't in control of your damn emotions. Wait for the information briefing and then follow bloody orders." Mad-Eye barked with a scowl.
While the new arrivals got acquainted, an ethereal doe approached Dumbledore and whispered to him, casting a cold, bluish light upon his face and further deepening the lines upon his aged visage. Dumbledore's expression was unreadable as he listened. The doe quickly dissipated as it turned into a transparent and luminous vapor after delivering its message. The Headmaster wasted no time in returning to the group at large after receiving the precious information.
"The graveyard is located in a village called Little Hangleton. Fortunately I have been to the town before, while conducting research. I shall apparate the group via side-along apparition into the village proper, and from there we shall go to the graveyard." Dumbledore rattled off his briefing quickly and with an air of determination. "Is everyone ready?"
Kingsley spoke up "Professor, are you saying you're able to side-along everybody present in one go?"
"While I haven't attempted it in some time, I'm confident it won't be a problem. Prepare yourselves and take hold." Dumbledore replied in a commanding tone.
The group at large all placed a hand on either of the Headmaster's arms, and felt themselves squeezed through an unusually narrow tunnel, even for apparition. Surely a side-along apparition with as many passengers as this wasn't legal, but the ministry's opinion was the last thing on anyone's mind at present. As quickly as the squeezing sensation began it ended, and the rescue squad found themselves behind the post office of a small muggle village. Small cottages with thatched roofs lined the streets, and the roads were cobblestone. The village was surrounded on both sides by large hills, each with a cobblestone path trailing up the side. As the group ran around the post office to the main street of the town, a small man with slightly greying hair and wearing a yellow reflective vest stepped out of the post office, the bell on the inside of the door sending a small warble into the air. He strode toward a bicycle that lay unchained against a gas street lamp, but before he could get there, he turned to look at the rescue party.
"Never seen you lot around before, and I know just about everyone being the postman and all. Where are yous running to?" the man asked nosily.
The group collectively ignored the man as they ran toward the now visible bell tower of the small church on top of the nearby hill. As they approached the church the graveyard came into view.
"Can everyone see the graveyard?" Mad-Eye asked with authority in his voice. Shouts of assent followed. "On my signal, apparate inside. … Now!" Moody commanded.
It took a brief moment for the Death Eaters to realize they were being ambushed. They had ensured Wormtail had placed anti-apparition wards before they got there, however while they prevented anyone from escaping the graveyard, Wormtail had to ensure nobody would be blocked from entering, else no Death Eaters would have been able to answer the Dark Lord's summons. Each member of the rescue squad had apparated behind a Death Eater, and most of them had been stunned or body-bound immediately. However, a few had reacted in time and shielded themselves from the rescuers attacks. The remaining Death Eaters were outnumbered, and though they were masked, Kingsley couldn't help but notice a long, platinum blonde hair creeping out from one of their hoods. While the masked fighters were outnumbered, they were using much more lethal spells, including killing curses, forcing the rescue team behind physical cover as a protego would be useless.
"What the bloody fuck is going on over there?!" shouted the apprentice Auror Kingsley now knew was called Tonks.
Kingsley followed her gaze to a golden cage of magical energy surrounding two duelists, Harry Potter, and what Kingsley could only presume was the Dark Lord, as the figure looked like nothing he had ever seen in a long career. Between them stretched a long cord of magic, in the center of which was a blindingly bright bead of energy that was moving toward Voldemort. While transfixed on watching this, Kingsley saw a bolt of green light in his peripheral vision and took cover behind a large tombstone, though the curse was aimed too high to hit anybody. He and Remus began bombarding the Death Eater who cast the curse with powerful hexes meant to break down his shield. The Death Eater was forced on the back foot, only defending and held out for a respectable amount of time, but ultimately was overpowered by the onslaught of blasting hexes andreductor curseshis shield was subject to. As he crumpled to the ground his mask slipped and most of the group recognized his greasy black hair to belong to none other than Professor Snape. Remus cast a stunning spellwhich sailed over the now unconscious Snape and into the back of Tonks' adversary, who fell over as well. After the masked Death Eaters were defeated, Wormtail was found cowering behind a small shrub in the graveyard and tried to transform into his animagus form, in a futile effort to escape. Mid transformation, a few whiskers already appearing on his face, though they may have already been there, he was struck in the back by two simultaneous piercing jinxes, casted by Sirius and Remus, one found his heart and he staggered briefly, then fell forwards, lifeless.
"Serves you right you spineless piece of shit. For James." Sirius said, a look of utter disgust and contempt across his features.
"For James." Remus concurred, his lips set in a tight line.
The rest of the rescue team wasted no time in rushing to see what was happening inside the golden cage of magical energy. Dumbledore muttered something under his breath, but Cedric didn't quite catch it over the rushing sounds of magic in the air. Ghost-like figures were hovering above the duel and appeared to be speaking to Harry, who was wearing a grimace that demonstrated just how strained he was, however the Order couldn't hear what they were saying. Suddenly, the spirits rushed the Dark Lord, and the golden cage fell. Harry rushed to the group of Order members. The rescuers saw their opportunity and took it, disapparating now that Wormtail's anti-apparition wards had fallen with him. The group found themselves back outside the gates of Hogwarts.
As the rescue squad re-entered the grounds, they found a frantic Ron Weasley pacing the area they had occupied before their departure. The sun had long since set. Hermione Granger, Madame Pomfrey, as well as Professors Sprout and McGonagall accompanied the young Weasley.
"Oi, surely one of you know what's going on so hurry up and tell us! Where's Harry? Is he with Dumbledore?" Ron half-yelled at the adults.
"That's quite enough Mr. Weasley. I understand you're concerned but there is no need for such disrespect for authority. I assure you the matter is being dealt with." Professor McGonagall chirped through pursed lips.
"Ron surely if Harry is with Dumbledore we have nothing to be worried about. I also highly doubt our Professors are keeping anything from us that we won't find out shortly. Just be patient and everything will be just fine." Hermione chastised her companion.
Ron couldn't help but think Hermione was convincing herself more than him, especially considering the amount of nail-biting she had been doing the past twenty minutes. As he turned to pace in the other direction, he saw the large group returning through the gates and stopped suddenly, his eyes widening a fraction of an inch. Harry was being carried by Sirius, and for a brief moment Ron feared the worst, but upon running to the group he began to see that Harry was breathing. He breathed a sigh of relief for his friend.
"Madame Pomfrey, please see to our two young Champions. They have both been through a great deal tonight." Dumbledore stated evenly, but with barely masked exhaustion. He hadn't been in a proper fight in years and while his magical reserves were vast, he was far more physically limited than he had been in years past.
Cedric and Sirius followed Madame Pomfrey up the grounds towards the castle, as did Potter's two friends. Sirius was still carrying Harry as he slept, though he eventually remembered after climbing most of the Grand Staircase that he could simply levitate him. He shook his head silently and rolled his eyes at himself as he cast a well practiced Petrificus Totalus, and a more rusty Wingardium Leviosa on his godson's resting body. He had been too distracted by his thoughts to remember such a basic tool at his disposal.
"What happened back there? What was that cage of magic? Who were those ... ghosts?" Cedric asked Sirius in hushed tones, hoping Madame Pomfrey and the younger students wouldn't overhear his question or, more importantly, the response.
Sirius considered his words for a moment, not wanting to say anything the kids might overhear.
"Voldemort has a body now. That was him dueling Harry when we arrived."
Cedric nodded at this, having put that together himself.
"The cage of magic, I've never seen anything like it. I don't even have an idea of what it was. Dumbledore might know. I know one thing though. I saw James and Lily tonight. They shouldn't be ghosts though. That's the part that makes the least sense to me."
"Those were Harry's parents?!" Cedric mouthed silently, instinctively knowing this information was most sensitive and that the walls in Hogwarts had ears.
Sirius nodded slowly. "Yes, though they weren't quite how I remember them. They were a bit… changed. They helped Harry though. I'm not sure he'd have made it without them." Sirius whispered reverently.
Cedric's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "I've never heard of anything like that. No magic can bring the dead back to life."
"I know." Sirius stated thoughtfully, a look of discomfort on his face.
In the following days, the students gossipped freely about their theories of what really happened on the evening of the final Task. Very little actual information had leaked, though Ron Weasley had been filled in by Harry on some of the less sensitive details and had told some Ravenclaw girls about what had happened, causing a domino effect of progressively exaggerated tales. By the final day of term, some first years led by an ecstatic Colin Creevey were claiming that Harry had single handedly defeated the Dark Lord, another dragon, and his Death Eaters by the time the adults arrived.
Despite being pressed by his friends, Cedric refused to answer any questions about what happened that night. He could have gotten Harry killed due to his actions, and he decided he had no right, nor desire, to share the story. The final day of term ended with the traditional feast, though Cedric decided to abstain and instead take a bath in the prefects bathroom. With everybody in Hufflepuff constantly hounding him for answers, it was nice to be alone. His thoughts disturbed him, however. He had almost gotten his schoolmate killed. Sure he had gone back and helped, but by then it could have been too late. He had always considered himself a selfless person, always thought that when it came down to it, he'd put his life on the line to protect others. To have that view of himself shattered in an instant was traumatizing to say the least. Cedric was hard on himself, harder than was probably healthy, and to him it mattered little that he had gone back to help Harry, knowing full well what he would find in the graveyard.
Cedric shook his head in order to break the spell of his reverie. He couldn't allow guilt to overtake him. He knew Voldemort had returned, and that meant peacetime was over. He would have to do his part in the war to come.
The following morning Cedric rode the Hogwarts Express back to London for the final time, silently mulling over what would change in the coming years. He found himself both terrified, but invigorated. He would find his place that would allow him to help the war effort as much as possible. Cedric hadn't been sure, before the final Task, what he would do after Hogwarts. He considered working for the ministry, opening a shop, or even taking a tour of the world. Those options all seemed pointless now. He would do everything he could to see Voldemort defeated. Considering the life expectancy of a fighter in a wizarding war, Cedric decided would consider his career options once he was sure he would need a career.
The train grinded to a halt in King's Cross station, and Cedric carefully stepped out onto the platform. He was a qualified wizard now, free to make his own decisions. The first one he made was to apparate straight back to Hogwarts. He would need to speak to Dumbledore.