Disclaimer:I don't own Harry Potter. Sorry I forgot to put this on a couple of my stories but since this is a fanfiction site we could all guess, right?
"That's my son! That's my boy!"
Such beautiful words these had been. They conquered much more meaning than Amos Diggory ever thought they would. They were Cedric. His boy. He had arrived.
A father's love is indescribable. It is not always given credit, it is not counted as strong as a mother's but who else can truly know what it's really like, other than a father? Who can know what it feels like holding your baby in your arms, a little thing that you created, never really knowing what it meant while it was still on the way but knowing it means everything while it's there in your arms? Amos Diggory decided no. Nobody could know other than a father, in fact in that extremely loving selfish moment, where he felt like he was the only father in the world, nobody could know other than him. He looked down on the little creature – Cedric – in his arms and the baby opened his eyes. For just one tiny moment it was only the two of them on the face of earth, father and son and no one else. He then held up his son close to his face and exclaimed:
"That's my son! That's my boy!"
In the cold night of war, there's little that a gutless man can do. Amos Diggory had never been the one to fight; he wasn't like those younger ones, brave and involved. He was no James Potter, nor Sirius Black. He was a Hufflepuff. Sure he helped as much as he could but unlike them, he would never so carelessly jump into a fight, face Death Eaters like that. He avoided the action, helped with finding information, an inner source in the ministry when he was asked to be so. He wasn't a member of the Order, he just supported them, from far.
So there he was huddled up together with his wife holding his two year old son so closely, protecting him from any kind of harm that could come. Death Eaters were right across the street, killing and torturing shamelessly, thoughtlessly and heartlessly. Amos Diggory could hear the shouts of fear, the screams of pain and the cold, immense laughter that indicated defeat. A hard feeling captured his heart. They had known the McKinnons for the longest time, never really close but always friendly. They were nice people, kind and caring. Powerful wizards too, very talented. They had a daughter, a young woman, who loved playing with Cedric, kept him company at any chance she could. Marlene, was it? Or Marley? Something like that. She had a nice sugary voice, soft and sweet. Even though Amos was in love with his wife, he couldn't help but watching her every now and then. He hadn't caught her name though. Why should he, there was no attraction. He just knew to admire the pretty. Still, hearing her scream with agony now, gave him a hard, stony kind of feeling. He felt he could do more to help them. He had informed the aurors though, hadn't he? He had contacted the ministry. Wasn't that enough? Another loud scream interrupted his thoughts.
"Marlene! Marlene, run! Go to Dumbledore, go right now! I said go! Marlene!"
A cry. A crash. A sound of shatter, reminding him too much of a breaking heart of a mother. It was just glass, though. Just glass.
So it was Marlene. Well, Marley sounded stupid anyway. It didn't matter anymore though. He hated, despised, people dying with everything in him. But when the matter was his family, his wife, his son, it didn't matter. If the situation was this serious and the Death Eaters were this out of hand, then the pretty woman across the street didn't matter, nor her kind faced mother or her always smiling father. He had to protect his family. He was no careless Potter, who kept jumping into every fight despite their new born son. He was a real father and he would protect his son, with everything in him. He looked at his wife and held his two year old closer, hugged him, held him, kissed the top of his head. Mrs. Diggory reached out and wiped the tears streaming down his face with her thumb. Despite his seemingly selfish decisions, Amos Diggory couldn't help but to shed new tears with each scream that came.
So, he had been wrong about Potter. He had clearly been very wrong about Black too, no doubt. Selling his best friend to the enemy, what had the world come to? Okay, rhetorical question, no answer required. But Potter wasn't so thoughtless after all. He had tried to protect his kid. He had died for his son. Terrible news indeed, but Amos understood. He would have done the same. If the threat was for his son, he would have stood in the way of that man a thousand times. He was now thankful to the Potters, whom he had called careless not too long ago. Thanks to them, now Cedric had a chance to live life with everything in it. Everything but You-Know-Who. James Potter had been a good father indeed but now, thanks to him, Amos Diggory would be a better one.
"Cedric dear, be a good boy, will you? And don't forget to have fun." Mrs. Diggory smiled. King's Cross was full of wizards and witches, sending off their children to Hogwarts and the Diggories were amongst them.
"I will mum, don't worry." Cedric smiled brightly. Amos Diggory's insides filled with uttermost pride. He had grown up to be a great boy.
"Now Cedric," he knelt down beside him, "don't forget our rules?"
"Be kind but not soft, be sportsmen but ambitious, work hard 'cause you only get what you deserve, be a gentlemen but only to girls." Cedric added the last part with a playful smile. A couple of first year girls looked at him, dazzled. Amos Diggory smiled back.
"And," he added, "write to us every week." Mrs. Diggory nodded, agreeing.
"I'll miss you guys."
"Nah, you leave that to us, and focus on your studies alright? We'll miss you enough for all of us."
Cedric nodded.
"That's my boy. Now off you go."
Cedric ran off to the train, dragging his trunk behind him. Unlike other first graders he had no trouble doing so. After getting his trunk on the train, he started to help other first graders; getting their trunks on the train while talking excitedly to people he'd just met seconds ago. He seemed to have this charm, he was handsome, but there was more than that. His boy had a kind heart, Amos Diggory noted. He looked proudly over at his son helping others, while noticing that a couple of parents were praising his behavior.
"That's my son." He called over to them pride dropping off each word. "That's my boy." He didn't look long enough to notice the other parents giving him awkward looks and shaking their heads. He was back to waving at his son.
Cedric was the perfect boy. One of the prefects of his house, the captain of the quidditch team and now, a contestant in the Triwizard Cup. He had even beat that Potter kid a couple of times. But of course he would. He was such a fine boy.
So there was Amos Diggory, waiting for his son to finish the final task, return with the cup and a sulking Potter behind him. The time was unbelievably slow and Amos Diggory was longing to see his son, starting to ache with worry. He would be fine though, Cedric was a strong boy. One of the strongest, in fact. He was smart, talented, kind and a gentlemen more then Amos could ever be. Hell, he was even kind to Potter. Suddenly the instruments started to play the celebration piece and even though Amos couldn't see what was going on, he knew it was Cedric. He was probably standing there with the cup waiting for his father. Amos Diggory straightened up his shoulders proudly and decided not to keep his son waiting. He made his way towards the front.
Wait.
What was going on? Why did everyone look so…sad? Was Potter crying? And who was that lying on the ground? Lifeless? No. No no no no no no no no. Please. Please.
Cedric.
His whole world came crashing down, leaving Amos Diggory no more than a tiny piece of wreck under everything.
"That's my son! That's my boy!"
Such beautiful words these were. My son. My boy. Such beautiful words they had been, Merlin knows, how many lifetimes before. Now used for such a tragic event. Such a disastrous situation. Such an unutterable pain. Sixteen years ago, with these exact same words a boy named Cedric Diggory had opened his eyes. At the time, the words symbolized something happy, celebrated an arrival. Now, sixteen years later, the words were empty, and the boy named Cedric Diggory had his eyes open, never to be able to close them on his own again. His son, who had once existed, not anymore. His boy, who had visited this world for a short term of sixteen years, making those years the best that Amos Diggory had ever lived and left, so soon, so sudden. They now, symbolized grief and a good bye that never happened.
Amos Diggory screamed. The words had lost their meaning.