Whew this one took a while.
Hope you all enjoy :D
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The afternoon spent with his parents goes the same way it had done previously. Strolling through Hogwarts grounds and talking about the past they'd give anything to relive. Cedric wants to tell them it's really not all it's cracked up to be.
At lunch Cho tries to sneak him away, knowing something wasn't right but this time Cedric shines his best smile. Promising his odd behaviour was simply nerves.
She takes it with a grain of salt and refuses to let go of his hand until the Trial begins and Bagman whisks him off to meet his Fate.
Shouts, cheers, music, Harry noticing the absence of Dumbledore – "Huh, how odd" – and finally the whistle.
Cedric bolts into murky darkness, Lumos lighting the way. He quickly parts from Harry, comforted in the knowledge of Snape shadowing him from the sidelines.
Map out, Cedric runs.
If in some terrible way 'Moody' exposes Snape, Cedric wasn't about to risk Harry's life and the rest of magical Britain for a third time round. All because he's afraid to die.
Something which, upon serious reflection, isn't at all likely to stick.
Fleur screams and Cedric stuns Viktor before the guy can even think of happily torturing him.
He arrives at the Cup breathless and unharmed. Both 'Moody' and Snape are noticeably absent.
Just as last, there are no introductions or pleasantries shared before crowding around the gleaming Cup.
"All good? Right then…"
.
Flashes of colour - pain so much pain - and Cedric rolls out of bed clutching his sides as though he had been slashed in half and was desperately trying to hold himself together. White fire spreads all up his spine and stains his insides like spilt gasoline for a mere handful of seconds before stopping altogether.
Like a fading cramp, Cedric lies of the floorboards. Cheek pressed against fresh polish and feeling cool bubbles of relief rippling through his muscles.
"Cedric?"
He glances up through his dark fringe to see Thomas sitting up in his bed and staring down at him in slight worry. Guiltily, Cedric realises he must have woken him up.
"Mornin'," he greets, "Don't reckon you could just forget this ever happened?"
"Not likely mate," his friend yawns, hand scrubbing his buzz cut. "You looked like you were having a seizure or somethin'. Should I get Professor Sprout?"
"No worries, Wizards don't get those," Cedric dismisses and proceeds to unenthusiastically pick himself up. Lower half tingling uncomfortably at the fragments of memory.
Seeing his insides falling outside.
So that was what Snape protected him from last time. A cutting hex.
"Woah mate," Thomas goes to stop him as Cedric's vision swirls. Hands out. "I don't think you should be standing just now. That didn't look too good – "
"No offence, Tom," Cedric is unable to constrain a hiss of frustration. "But I really don't need your concern right now."
Thomas's face shuts downs, "No need to be such a bastard, Ced. I'm only trying to help."
Taking a breath, Cedric glances out the window to see sunrise. Time was counting down.
…would apologising even matter if he dies again? Thomas won't remember it.
He does anyways.
.
Again, Dumbledore hands him a map.
Then tells him they were going to let Harry get kidnapped.
Hel-lo?
"From your recounting of past attempts, the only time we have gotten close to saving Mr Potter from his Fate with Voldemort, is when 'Moody' to accompanied us."
"A lot of people also died," Cedric points out, wide-eyed. Burnt flesh damp under his nose. "Pettigrew crucio'd me."
Don't. Cedric tells his body as it starts trembling from phantom knives. Think about something else.
Sensing his trepidation Dumbledore's eagerness dims. "Before, Pettigrew managed to surprise you. He won't now, I trust?"
Trust.
There was a vast amount of distance growing between himself and Dumbledore because of that.
Cedric was a sensible enough bloke to know the man couldn't work miracles, despite popular belief. To think an individual was able to vanquish an onslaught of Death Eaters, keep casualties minimal, and save two teenage boys – one less essential than the other –was absurd.
Though to repeatedly toss him into a battlefield with abandon. Telling him, a kid who just finished his NEWTS to take out two Death Eaters with a kill list – the horror he's seen these past couple of days, trapped in his own fear...
Cedric isn't sure he will ever be able to forgive him for it.
By the look of Dumbledore's unflinching stare, the man is ready to accept Cedric's disgust, his loathing if it will mean stopping a war.
And he hates how large a part of himself isn't able to fault him for that underlying logic.
"Mr Diggory," Dumbledore says, "I wish I could say I don't believe you. I wish I could say Voldemort died that night fourteen years ago. I wish I could save you the torture of repeatedly facing death because of this incompetent old fool. This burden I've placed on you, is not something a seventeen year old should have to carry on his own."
"Don't worry," Cedric assures. Sighing, "I'll do it, Headmaster,"
"I know you will, dear boy. Lady Hufflepuff should be proud to have you in her house."
.
Hand linked with Chos's under Hufflepuff table, he half-listens to his father loudly recalling his childhood to his housemates.
" – of course he never fell. But he damn well might have given the sheer terror he put his mother and I through!" His mother tuts at his father's language, who grunts dismissively and continues on with cheer. Clearly happy to be the one tooting Cedric's horn.
Cho snickers into his shoulder. "Your father's so cute."
Cedric doesn't hear her.
Head on fist, his lucid gaze sweeps across the Hall. Taking in carbon-copy play outs he's had to witness on repeat. It's amazing how quickly it lost its charm.
Predictably, his eyes find Harry. Seated at the Gryffindor table with the Weasley Clan.
Around the age of four, sometime after the War and hunt for hiding Death Eaters, Cedric used to get dragged along by his mother to visit the Weasleys. Being apart of only a handful of wizarding families in the muggle village, his and the Weasley parents were disturbingly eager to make friends.
Post war joy and trust in neighbours was abundant.
In these dates, Cedric was all too happy to meet children around his age with magic. Most notably Charlie and Bill. (Even as a kid Percy found books more compelling than friends.)
The two boys, though older than him, found his excitement to climb things taller than himself a fun, dangerous game to risk.
Cedric doesn't know exactly when this friendship between them waned and lost itself to time, only when Charlie followed Bill to Hogwarts the letters died down to three a week, twice a week, once a week.
Then none.
Without either boy noticing or caring.
He hasn't spoken to the two since, only in sporadic awkward passing.
.
His eyes connect across the hall to Bill's, and Cedric finds himself momentarily stuck. The man's eyes were creased in mid-laughter, staring at him with a happiness and fondness Cedric couldn't bring himself to mimic.
He had heard of Bill's achievements. Landing a wealthy job for Gringotts as a Curse Breaker in Egypt. It looked to have worked out well for him. Before his first death, Cedric had noticed his old friend wearing expensive dragon skinned clothing. And that tooth, from its opal-like tint in candlelight - recalling from Charlie's old books, belonged to a rare breed of dragon only found in Egypt.
He was happy for him.
He found a life worth pursuing.
For a bizarre moment, Cedric smiles back at Bill. Sad and sincere.
Bill's carefree expression drops into a confused frown.
Cedric looks away.
Time moves.
.
On their way to the Quidditch pitch, Harry predictably falls into step besides him.
"Bill was asking about you."
He spoke.
Cedric blinks at the incomprehensible words. From his peripheral vision he could see Bagman close his mouth.
It was a pleasant change.
Not something Dumbledore would advise.
For a long second, Cedric considers not saying anything in case of causing something disastrous.
Then realises than not saying anything was equally as bad as the other.
Resigning himself, Cedric goes, "Oh?" Eyeing Harry's curious look. Despite himself, Cedric empathised. "What did he say?"
"Just," Harry shrugs, not quite sure himself. "How you've been? I told him he should be asking you that but he refused. I didn't know you two knew each other, did something happen?"
Cedric had suspected it before, but Harry seriously lacked tact.
"No," he shakes his head. Not wanting to think about the envy he felt as a first year watching Charlie laugh with his friends, Bill not respond to his owls - or how he was about to let 'Moody' kidnap Harry.
Bloody-
"Nothing," he says with forced casualness, "we just naturally lost touch as we grew up."
"You were childhood mates?" Harry asked in bewilderment.
"Well," he snorts, "We do live a couple blocks from each other, Harry. 'Course we would."
"Funny, I never thought of it like that," Harry admits. Slightly stunned.
Visibly, Cedric could see something else come to mind.
"Oh! Then you must have known Ron as a kid!"
They talk all the way to the maze – "Oh, that's weird Dumbledore isn't here" "Yeah, odd." –eventually having to shut up so Bagman could deliver his speech.
.
On the whistle Cedric shoots off. Brain filtering out the guilt of leaving Harry as a soft target and focusing on stunning Krum's attack when the boy appears.
"Sorry," he winces when Krum drops in a faint. Sparing no time, Cedric vigorously continues following the map.
Dumbledore is there, as is Snape and the others. 'Moody' appears. Identity must have been kept a secret as Cedric notices nobody else tensing.
He touches the cup, 'Moody' accio's Harry and off they go.
.
This time Cedric drops on instinct when the hidden Death Eaters unleash their unmerciful attack.
Snape is on him in an instant. Hauling him up and shoving him to safety.
"Run you silly boy!"
"Thank you!" Cedric surprises the man. Ducking behind the angel headstone for cover.
Fate wasn't so kind.
The blast to the angel's wing catches Cedric on the bicep, punching him forwards and sending him tumbling on top another ancient gravestone. His ribcage feels the blow before it connects, forcing air out of his lungs in a painful choke and wet gasp.
Behind him the woman screams as she catches on fire.
He blinks spots from his eyes.
Dumbledore shouts.
Cedric has a second to filter in the meaning of what was happening before launching himself over the tombstone. Feet leaving the ground in a tumbling ark and landing him smack on his back. Breathless.
White, hot pain assaults his rib cage and bicep. Sending a trail of searing agony all the way to the back of his neck.
His cry is lost in the resonant boom of Dumbledore's fire engulfing the air around him. Scorching wet grass and earth in its wrath.
Among it, he smells the burning flesh of Death Eaters and Dumbledore's friend.
I warned him, Cedric thinks, and he still let it happen.
I let it happen.
The fire calls back slightly, enough for Cedric to gingerly untangle himself and briefly check the gash on his right bicep. His entire sleeve was ripped open enough for him to see and feel blood dribbling down his arm. It both looked and felt bad. He couldn't move it properly.
He couldn't fight 'Moody' like last time.
For a short second, Cedric wonders if he should die.
"…No," he spits. Left hand palming his wand with childlike awkwardness.
He won't die. Not again.
Not bloody again.
Spotting 'Moody' limping towards the tomb not some meters away, dragging Harry behind him, Cedric ignores sudden exhaustion beating his skull and launches himself upright. Sprinting forwards.
"Stupefy!"
The man twists and blocks it, shouting a curse back that has Cedric side stepping and almost tripping over his feet.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Green light brushes past his temple but he barely notices it in the accumulating spots overtaking his vision.
Noticing the distance closing between them, Cedric braces himself.
And bowls into 'Moody's' legs.
The reunion is short lived in a jerking stunner.
Wasn't over yet.
Wand aimed at the tomb's door, Cedric takes time to catch his breath in quick painful gasps. Right arm limp at his side, he staggers up and wonders what the hell he's supposed to do now.
Backing towards Harry, he spares a check at the rise and fall of his chest, catches the cinders and crashes of spells a few yards to his left….
And wonders what the hell I'm supposed to do now?!
Waiting for Pettigrew out in the open wasn't the answer.
Forcing down his wand arm and pocketing it, he grabs Harry by the collar and starts dragging the boy. Stumbling backwards in a furious haste to get them as far away from danger he could.
Which was a laugh.
Thankfully Harry was light as he looked and within a few seconds of striding through darkness, banging against headstones and tearing up from the strain of his ribs - the firefight between Dumbledore and Death Eaters a dozen yards away looked to be nearing its end.
Silhouetted against burning grass, a hunched hooded figure steps out behind the tomb. Cedric's breath catches and he squats next to a smaller gravestone. Hand leaving Harry's collar for his wand.
The figure cats a Lumos. Lighting his face in grotesque shadows that send chills down his spine. In his arms was a bundled creature that looked like a small baby. For his sanity, he hoped it wasn't. Pettigrew scowls into the cemetery. Resembling an animal sniffing for prey.
This was the man that had killed him twice already.
Another roar of fire below sends the air scorching in blazing firelight like fireworks. In a second the darkness that had camouflaged him and Harry disperses. With Pettigrew's back turned to Dumbledore, Cedric scrounges up his last bits of energy to grab Harry and apparite them back to the Cup.
Two months ago on his seventeenth birthday, Cedric signed up for the Ministry of Magic Apparition lesson. He splinched himself twice, landed five miles out of the designated area. Scaring the soul out of a poor elderly muggle passing by - and was strictly advised to not engage in side-along apparition until future lessons. The woman teaching him warned that if he did, not only will he scatter his friend's remains all across bloody England, he would turn himself into scrabble. Whatever Morgana that is.
Honestly.
Cedric would rather risk saving Harry than being a sitting duck waiting for poaching.
Damned if he gives up now.
Navel pinching inwards he is sent spiralling. Ribs burning on impact and head a centimetre from a black snake skinned dress shoe. Eyes deliriously swinging upwards, neon curses gleam off a silver skull mask.
"Diggory," the voice behind it hisses and a wand is aimed in-between his eyes. "Avada Kedavra!"
Rolling onto Harry and catching sight of the Cup kicked a foot away, he laughs in relief.
"You idiot!" He hears Snape shout somewhere but he's already moving. Eyes splotching in a mirage of colour from either curses or fatigue, Cedric reaches out with his mangled arm to the cup, the other hugging Harry tight and they're gone.