Conviction
Disclaimer: I don't own 'harry Potter'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: The truth hurts. Lies do too. Voldemort's alive, or is he? Cedric Diggory and Elain Potter survived the graveyard, but Voldemort's a monster, and despite all their problems, the worst is yet to come. OotP AU. Cedric/Elain (fem!Harry).
Rating: M for language, mild adult themes, violence and eventual character death.
Author: tlyxor1.
Chapter 1:
Privet Drive hadn't changed in the year she'd been gone, but as Elain trailed her fingers across her flowers, she thought the predictability was almost a comfort. Here, she could expect everything down to what meal Petunia would have her prepare for dinner that evening, and after the fresh hell that was her last school year, and particularly, the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, she appreciated the monotony of chores, homework, and an exercise routine that kept her fit, in shape, and healthy.
It had been a week since Hogwarts had let out for the summer holidays, and it hadn't taken two of those days for Elain to fall into the daily grind of life on Privet Drive. After a daily exercise routine she'd created with her chaser friends, Elain was provided breakfast by Dobby or Winky, low fat yoghurt, sliced fruits and a boiled egg, with a side of freshly squeezed orange juice and the various medications Madam Pomfrey had prescribed Elain over the years.
After that, Elain was given a list of chores to fill her morning, but after lunch, again provided by Dobby or Winky, her afternoons were free, and Elain took distinct advantage of it. She swam laps in the local swimming pool on Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoons, which helped to keep her cool, but also helped with her cardiovascular exercise, and also kept her away from her cousin, Dudley, and his brutish friends. Tuesdays and Thursdays, she spent her afternoons with Mrs Prichard in the park, maintaining her fluency in Welsh, and reading the elderly woman poetry from a book the woman always provided.
Evenings were reserved for dinner preparation, and it was the only time Petunia pretended not to resent the fact that Elain was magical, was Lily's daughter, and actually treated Elain like a human being. The witch herself thought it was too little, too late, but she enjoyed cooking, so it wasn't as though she was going to say anything.
Nights were her own, where she spent at least an hour working on the summer homework she'd been assigned, or researching spells that she thought would be useful in the future. Her tournament research had helped a lot, but her repertoire could only get better, so she'd ordered books from Flourish and Blot's, and in the two days since they'd arrived, she'd already accrued a list of spells two pages long, a list she intended to learn once back at school.
Afterwards, she would occupy herself with a novel, or with one of her art journals, until it was past ten, and her fatigue had finally caught up to her. Then she would sleep, suffer through a nightmare or two, and then she would wake up to do it all over again.
With a mildly exasperated huff, Elain tugged at the weeds invading her garden, emptied her mind of thought, and startled in unadulterated surprise when someone knelt down on the other side of her flowerbed, a smile on his face she could see through the roses. it was Cedric Diggory, light grey eyes and golden brown hair, cleft chin and handsome features, and without fail, Elain's cheeks dusted pink, a smile pulled at her lips, and her heart skipped a beat.
"Cedric," she greeted warmly, pleased to see that the last remnants of scars had faded from his face. He'd not come out of the graveyard fiasco unscathed, but he was lucky to be alive, and he'd said that scars were a small enough price to pay for his life. She was glad they'd not lingered though, because his face was far too nice to be marred by them. "How are you?"
Cedric began to pull at weeds on the other side of the flowerbed, that same light, easygoing smile on his face. He was dressed in khakis that cut off below the knees, a plain t-shirt and sandals, but there was something distinctly weird about him gardening. When she protested, however, he waved her off, and Elain was wise enough not to argue the point with an obstinate Hufflepuff.
"I'm alright," he answered, "I managed to harass the twins into giving up your address. Do you mind I stopped by? I know it's a little weird…"
"Only a little weird," she teased, "But I don't mind at all. What have you been up to since term ended?"
"I broke up with Cho," he answered, "I don't know… I feel different, after…"
Elain nodded her understanding, expression sombre, and Cedric seemed relieved that he didn't need to explain. She knew all too well that after an encounter like the one they'd both experienced, neither of them would be the same, and though she felt bad that Cedric had to experience that kind of life changing horror, Elain couldn't say she felt bad that he'd broken up with Cho.
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," he denied, "Don't apologise to me. Anyway, I wondered if you wanted to go to lunch. I feel like you're the only person I can relate to these days, and mum's been driving me 'round the bend at home."
Elain checked her watch, a delicate, platinum piece gifted to her by Sirius for Christmas, and was somewhat surprised to find she'd spent nearly her whole morning in the garden. She didn't have any more chores for the day, however, and Petunia and Vernon had given up controlling her around the same time they'd learned of Sirius, her mass-murdering godfather. In any case, they were all out, and so she nodded, began to gather up her gardening supplies, and led the way to the small toolshed at the back of the yard.
"Would you give me - say - half an hour to get ready?" She requested. "You can wait in my room."
Cedric nodded his acquiescence, followed Elain into her house, up the stairs, and into her small bedroom. She didn't have much by way of decorations, but her bookshelves were full of novels she'd read over the years, her textbooks, school journals, and essay plans were stacked in piles on the desk beneath her floating shelves, and the pale purple walls of her childhood were lined with butterflies.
"Your room's cute. Very… feminine."
"Shut up," she groused, "I was eight."
Cedric laughed, tactfully looked away as Elain gathered up a change of clothes and her toiletries, and began to scan her books as Elain excuse herself to the bathroom. When she returned, he'd started to read through her essay plans, and when he gave her an apologetic smile, she shrugged nonchalantly.
"It's not like I expect you to copy off me."
"I probably would have if I had to do these essays again," Cedric admitted shamelessly, "I didn't realise you were so interested in school. From what I can tell, these are very good - or will be, anyway."
"It's easy to be overshadowed by Hermione's… zealousness," Elain hedged. She packed a small bag of necessities, looked expectantly at the Hufflepuff, and enquired, "Shall we go?"
"We shall," Cedric agreed.
On the curb outside her house, Elain pulled the strap of her satchel over her head, let the bag drop to her hip, and looked expectantly at her taller companion. He returned the expression in kind, and Elain shrugged cluelessly.
"You're the one who asked, you tell me. What's for lunch, Mr Diggory?"
Are there any decent restaurants around here?"
Elain nodded her confirmation, and led the way towards the centre of Little Whinging. They chatted idly as they walked, about classes, and peers, and quidditch, but when they reached the string of restaurants Little Whinging had to offer, they instead began to bicker the merits of French versus Italian versus Greek.
"I'm so over French food," Elain declared, "I mean, I like it well enough, and eclairs have to be the best thing ever, but cor, by April, I would have died for a pie."
The pair opted for Italian, and once met by the hostess, they were settled in a shaded part of the alfresco dining area, provided a pitcher and two glasses of water, a couple of menus, and a waitress who looked as though she'd have rather been anywhere else. They ordered their lunch, regardless, and once she'd departed, they began to talk once more.
"I saw you had chosen Runes, Arithmency and Care as your third year electives. What do you think of them?"
Elain's eyes brightened, and without fail, she began to wax poetic about Ancient Runes and Arithmency. Insightful and particularly intelligent himself, Cedric followed her rambling with an entertained grin on his face, but also manage to turn her one-sided monologue into a discussion about different aspects of either subject, and before they knew it, their waitress had returned with the pizza they'd agreed to go halves on, and when she'd left them once more, conversation continued between mouthfuls of pizza, and the time flew by.
Eventually, they finished their meal, and after a brief debate over who would pay, Cedric handed over the thirty pounds they owed, and the pair departed the restaurant, headed back towards Privet Drive.
"What do you want to do when you finish Hogwarts?"
Elain shrugged, uncertain of how she should answer. Ever since her first Transfiguration lesson, she'd had dreams of obtaining her mastery in the field. Ancient Runes, Arithmency and Bill Weasley's stories had also inspired her desire for adventures as a curse breaker.
There was also Madam Pomfrey, who'd begun teaching Elain basic healing spells in her third year, and Elain, in turn, had found she'd had an affinity for something beyond Transfiguration and Ancient Runes. It didn't come so easily to her as her two favourite subjects, but she enjoyed it, and she was even decent at it, and Madam Pomfrey had told her that Elain would likely do well as a mediwitch or healer, if only because she'd experienced a ridiculously broad array of injuries and maladies over the years.
Voldemort was out for her blood, however, war was coming, and Elain doubted she'd survive to see any of those dreams come true. It was a sobering thought, but after she'd spoken with the shadows of her parents, and come a hairsbreadth away from death - again - it was one she'd thought about a lot.
"I don't know. How about you?"
Cedric frowned, but he didn't pursue the issue. Instead, he explained to her that he'd had plans to travel after his final year, to see the world and what have you, but since his resurrection, he'd had thoughts of the Auror Corps, because the Ministry of Magic probably needed all of the aurors they could get.
"That's admirable," Elain acknowledged, and the smile on her face was sad, "I'm sorry you have to sacrifice your dreams, though."
"It's not your fault," Cedric denied, "You didn't ask Voldemort to terrorise magical Britain, after all. Blame can only lie at his feet."
"You said his name," she marvelled.
"Yeah, well, I figured, if I'm going to die, than I won't die a coward."
Elain, if she were a bolder person, might have kissed him then and there. She wasn't, however, and so she only grinned at him, proud despite herself, and thought the Hufflepuff was doing absolutely nothing to help her get over her crush on him.
They reached her house, he hugged her farewell, and after a kiss on her cheek and a promise to write, he continued down the road. Elain watched him leave from the stoop, but then she disappeared inside, upstairs and into her room, where she locked her bedroom door, dropped her satchel on top of her trunk, and flopped gracelessly onto her bed with a contented sigh.
She couldn't think of a way her day could get better.