I am back. New loop, new trouble - will Cedric ever get a rest?
.
From his feet to his neck Cedric was tender as a leg of ham ready for chewing. Around him House Elves mingle about preparing breakfast. It had been less than 48 hours since he had escaped that dastardly time loop, and Cedric hadn't been able to sleep a comfortable wink. Call him paranoid, but he had a damned good reason to be. Voldemort knows who he is. Death Eaters know. Dumbledore likes to pretend nothing had happened, and everyone he knows kept being curious about the 'confidential incident'. As though he had nothing else to worry about, the NEWTS were coming to a close. Cedric is confident he is passing by a margin. A very sad margin.
He rocks in the chair opposite popping fire, taking deep breaths. Sipping ginger tea. Time loops cause indigestion. Take note Einstein. Time isn't relative to intestinal functions.
"Would sir like cinnamon porridge?" One elf asks. Hands sporting the food on a copper tray embalmed with flowers. Cedric smiles a bleak smile and accepts the bland food. Chowing down.
A tinkling tone of bells and puff of golden sparkles swirl on the tray beside his porridge. A mini, shimmering tornado. Calming into gravity, gold dust materialises a small envelope.
'Mr. Diggory of Hufflepuff House' was written in bold, precise letters.
Cedric stares, spooning porridge in his mouth before opening the wax seal on the back. A tiny letter read exactly what he had suspected.
"yada yada yada -" he mumbles through the unimportant part and buckled down at the last exert 'Mr Diggory is invited to attend the Order's meeting at Headquarters. Please meet at the Headmaster's office at precisely 10:57pm tonight. Tell no one, bring no one. Any sign of failing to adhere these rules so will terminate your fellowship and call for immediate obliviation.
With appreciation,
The Secret Keeper'
Cedric would be lying if he said he wasn't grinning like a little kid. He was apart of one of the highest secret organisations in Europe. Before he could celebrate the letter gasped into fairy dust. Exploding like Tinkerbell.
Eugh.
.
"Is that glitter?" Bill asks. Managing to catch him in the quidditch locker room before practice. Cedric wasn't exactly dodging his old friend, but he wasn't seeking his company either. They had drifted apart years ago. Neither one giving a reason. Neither attempting to.
Neither wanting to bring it up. Despite it hanging in the air like a lighting bolt waiting to strike. Mending broken fences.
Was hard shit when neither acknowledged the darn thing was lit alight like a nuclear explosion.
Cedric flicks his hair at Bill, sweeping him with the golden speckles. The man being taller than him by only a couple of inches presented a perfect height to slap directly on his face.
"Real mature," Bill coughs. Freckles now resembling galaxies.
Shrugging, Cedric sat and tied on a knee pad. Keeping his gaze down and skirt from Bill's. He isn't, legally, supposed to be at Hogwarts. Family visitations had ceased last night. Suppose Bill was always the special exception. The guy could charm his way out of Azkaban if he was feeling particularly inclined.
"Ced!" His team captain shouts somewhere in the back, "Brooms up in five, come on!"
"Got it," he called. Giving Bill a pointed look. He raised gloved hands palm up in a sheepish half-shrug of acceptance.
"Suppose I kept you long enough," the man smirks. Winks. Hmm. "See you later tonight though yeah?" and dashes off. Red leather duster theatrically lapping at his heels. Cedric stares after him. Dull throb in-between his eyes boding of ill things to come.
The team captain shouted again.
Whether that was the ill thing to come remains yet to be decided.
.
At precisely 10:40 that night an Elf woke him by poking his cheek.
"Hello," Cedric croaks. Eyes inching open then closed. A tiny finger prods his cheek again. In a gravelly voice he says, "Stop that."
"Missy been told to wake you," the elf replies in a hush.
"Mmmm," Cedric, eyes still closed, kicks the sheets off, swings his feet into slippers and holds his hand out. The elf takes it and drags him off. By the time Cedric is in the open hallways consciousness had returned and he could think more clearly. For instance wearing his jim-jams to the biggest covert order meeting in England was not first class decision making. Cedric gives a sour, longing glance over his shoulder in the vague direction of his warm bed as Missy steps in front of the Eagle statue and utters the password.
If they don't obliviate him on the spot Cedric might take it into his own hands to save himself from sheer humiliation.
True to his mystical, all-seeing/all-knowing reputation, Cedric doesn't have to knock on the Headmaster's door to enter. The door opens before him, revealing Dumbledore languishing behind his desk. Left side and pointy hat glowing in the embers of his fireplace. Missy excuses herself with a bow to Dumbledore and pops off.
Dumbledore rises and pauses as he looks Cedric up and down. Genial smile revealing nothing but twinkling positivity.
"Unique choice of clothing, my boy," he rounds the desk and picks up a brass bowl of floo dust. "I cannot recall anyone other than myself turning up to an Order meeting in their pj's."
"Wasn't my intention," Cedric promises. Certain he was still covered in sparkles despite his furious scrub earlier in the shower. "Don't suppose you could transfigure it."
Dumbledore keeps his smile, "There is no fun in playing safe."
He clears his throat. Swallowing the curse. Yeah he thought it would be the case.
"Let us not be late, mmh?" Dumbledore takes a step to his arching fireplace in the wall and gestures him forwards with a hand. "With me, now. Three, two, one - Gri -"
Cedric fails to hear the rest. Vision full of toxic fire and body engulfed by a breath of heat. The hand on his back tips him forwards. Blinking away a sudden fog, Cedric steps into a quirky living room. Interior reminding him a lot of the Malfoys' manor he see's during the annual Christmas parties they hold.
Behind the door of the living room were muffled conversations. It came as a shock - which is stupid. He wonders who would be there. Some staff, probably. Maybe some high-up Ministry people. Heh.
Uselessly, Cedric rakes a hand through his mop of bed-head. Not at all appearing sexy, gruff east end of Diagon Alley type, more 'i could use a hairbrush' type. The hand went to his face next, grimacing at the peek of a beard. His toes wiggle inside of his slippers. Hoo Merlin he was going to wow these fellas tonight.
He straightens his pyjamas. Trying to seem businesslike.
Don't look at him like that.
"Here we are," Dumbledore strolls out of the fire after him. Dress trailing a plume of green dust. "Allow me do the talking. The subject on your fellowship is one of much debate and dissent. It would be best for you to keep quiet. They are… upset. To their knowledge you came by the secret information accidentally and helped us. Best to keep it that way."
Cedric sighs. Again, trying to appear professional.
Behind the door was a dining table that could fit the entire Weasley Clan. Indeed, some were there. Mr and Mrs Weasley - and Bill and Charley. Cedric blew out a breath. Among other familiar faces of the Staff - old and new - there were unfamiliar ones too. Pretty rich unfamiliar ones. Most of them were staring at him as though he had just crashed a funeral. Naked.
Cedric bites down a mouthful of oaths.
Bill and Charley were at the back of the table. Not too far for him to catch their uneasy smiles and thumbs up. Good to have some support, he guessed. Not one to be an ass, Cedric half-smiles and waves.
"So this is the kid, Albus?" The gravel laden voice belonged to a dark man in colourful robes. His eyes meet his and quickly do a once-over. "He's still in his pyjamas." What a jerk.
Sue him. He might not look like a shining example of Wizard kind but at least he showed up. Cedric lifts his chin. Determined to not be a pushover. He's damned sure nobody here has died a handful of times this past week and still manage to brush their homework.
Of course nobody here actually has homework. Bugger.
"Do not underestimate the congenial nature of pyjamas, Kingsley," Dumbledore says and gestures for Cedric to take the spare seat next to Bill. His old friend pulls it out for him. Patting it as he did. Besides Bill, Charlie peeks around. Red hair curling at the nape of his neck. Rogue smile dashing all nerves from Cedric. There was a reason this guy was Quidditch Captain. One look, smile and wink, you'll trust him with anything.
"Good having you here, mate." Charlie says. Voice hush.
"Yeah, same to you."
"I shan't," Kingsley huffs testily.
"Then let's get down to business everybody," at Dumbledore's smooth consensus, all small chatter dying. "Thanks to the information young Diggory here provided, we were able to stall Voldemort's plans of revival for the time being." A low applaud is directed towards Cedric. All he could hear is the unknown woman's screams as she was lit on fire. "We're here to discuss what to do next. Kingsley, any news on Voldemort and his followers current whereabouts?"
Kingsley stands. Hands clasped behind his back and face stern. "Our trail on Pettigrew so far has shown us that his last position was somewhere in Scotland. There has been no alarming evidence of his returning. However, there has been movement with Death Eaters. Hints of them patrolling towns close to Surrey. We haven't clashed yet, it being muggle territory we cannot initiate contact."
Cedric twitches. That was where Harry lived. He looks to Dumbledore, wondering what the man was thinking. Planning.
"I believe he intends to kidnap Mr Potter come end of semester. For the best," Kingsley continues over the outraged mutterings. Mrs Weasley being the loudest. "I believe Mr Potter should stay here over the holidays."
"I will consider it," Dumbledore thanks him. Kingsley sat. "Remus," he addresses Cedric's old professor. Cedric almost couldn't recognise him. He was scruffier than usual and had a fresh scar starting from his chin all the way to his left earlobe. "How's Sirius?"
"Better," Remus smiles a spent smile. It has the silver scars on his face and neck stretch awkwardly. Cedric tries not to stare. "Hardly any nightmares now. He's upstairs resting."
"Terrible business," Mr Weasley grunts. Aged large featured upturning into a scowl. "The ones who should be suffering are the Malfoys, not innocent people like Sirius - "
"Dear," Mrs Weasley shushes.
"He's not wrong," Bill juts in casually. Leaning on one elbow and meeting Kingsleys gaze. "You've got enough evidence Malfoy was at the cemetery."
"Be as it may," Kingsley says. Slow and steady. "We can't prosecute. The timing is not right. We need more than circumstantial evidence. The shoes Malfoy wears are the same every pure blooded aristocrat wears."
Bill's casual air drifts into a scowl. He leans back. Lips pressed tight. Cedric recalls a boot trying to smash his face in but refrains from saying anything.
He does have some common sense.
"Moving on," Dumbledore twinkles and dives into something Cedric half-understood. It went on like that for half an hour and by the time they were finished, Cedric's lethargy had come back making his eyes heavy. Chairs squeak as everyone stands. Startling him to slowly do the same.
If Cedric had known the Order of the Pheonix meetings would be so boring he would have blown the invite letter up himself.
The departing reminds him a lot of when he was a kid leaving a party with his parents. Stuck in the background while all the adults chatted.
"Wasn't what you were expecting?" Bill asks. Leaning against his chair as they stood around the table, watching the 'important people' make idle chit chat. Bill, like Charlie, had an air of calm indifference.
"Less 'lets blow shit up', yeah," he grins.
"Brace yourself," says Bill. "we never talk about blowing shit up."
"I regret coming."
"It's not all bad," Bill leans in to whisper, "sometimes, if it's a particularly zealous evening, we talk about Ministry gossip. Fudge is having an affair with his secretary."
"Don't let Percy know," Cedric gawks. Genuinely serious. That guy would burst into prophetic tears.
"Bill's against telling," Charlie pops around his older brother. Freckles crinkling with his grin. "I'm all for it. Might actually manage to sway Perce from getting tangled with that fucker."
"Don't call he Minister a fucker Charlie," Bill chastises. "Not around children."
It takes Cedric a second to understand who he was referring to. "Me?" Even Merlin couldn't save his voice from breaking.
Wide smiles meet his flushing one.
As old friends chatting went, this didn't entirely blow.
.
His parents are unaware of him being in the Order. An agreement he had somehow managed to argue Dumbledore to uphold. Lying to his parents sat uncomfortably in his chest. However couldn't see it happening any other way. They wouldn't have understood Cedric without him telling them about the time loop.
Something Dumbledore had strictly obeyed to be kept under wraps.
The Weasleys didn't like it either. Something Cedric also felt uncomfortable about, purely for the reason they were pathetic at hiding things from their friends - which why Cedric told his parents they didn't have to pick him up at the station. He could catch a ride with the Weasleys.
This is in no way related to Harry similarly being escorted from the train station to the Order's Headquarters - not exactly Headquarters. He was to meet Dumbledore at a bus stop apparently nearby. In the middle of London. Why this elaborate taxi service? Dumbledore couldn't simply take Harry to Headquarters himself without questions on why a student is staying at Hogwarts, questions on him playing favourites, etcetera etcetera….
Which is how Harry found himself being tossed from one escort to another to keep up appearances on leaving the safety of the school. London is also highly populated. The risk of a Death Eater attack in the middle of the hotpot is slim to none. So incredibly slim, Kingsley had promised. Just like how Dumbledore promised one of his many plans was going to work before Cedric kicked it. A number of times. Cedric's eye twitches.
Yes. Harry has relation to why he was in the Weasley's car. None. At all.
As he is squished besides Harry, Cedric rolls his eyes upwards. Scoffing at his own silliness. Who was he trying to convince, this has everything to do with Harry.
.
It's sort of refreshing to have one's paranoia proven right. If Cedric wasn't so busy unbuckling his seatbelt and crawling over the twins he would have 'huzzah'd.
As it were, he was shouting. Wand out in the middle of London square. Dashing across the busy highway street. Leaping over hoods of cars and sending any and every stunner he could at the men and women in skull masks. Their blackened robes stood out like dark angels amongst the shrieking flow of muggles. Innocent and helpless they run in the opposite direction Cedric was. Green and red blasts cut them down before him. Not having the luxury to care. He strides on and over the listless bodies.
"Harry!" He shouts, ducking fire. Eyes trying in vain to search for the short stature of Harry. He was there, moments ago with Mr Weasley as he took him to the bus stop. Then three smokey figured swooped out of the shadows.
Death Eaters attacking in broad daylight in the middle of London showed without doubt a declaration of war.
War.
Morganas' tits this is a nightmare.
"Harry!" Cedric aches with every step. Quicker than anticipated he had gained on the three and drops his weight. Skidding under and past their black cloaks to where he hopes Harry lay. His momentum crashes into a something - a collapsed body. Tumbling over it, Cedric lands on his side to the frozen face of shock belonging to Mr Weasley. Flinching back with a cry of horror, Cedric raises his wand. Meets the gaze of a white skull.
A slithery voice is the last thing he hears before that flash of sickly green, "He's gone, boy."
.
A rush of magic and gulp of air Cedric tumbles out of his bed in the Hufflepuff dormitory. For a long while, he simply stares up at the ceiling wondering what in the ever loving fuck to do now.
"Son of a bitch."
How could he possibly not curse?
.
thoughts? feelings?