After the boys had gone to sleep, Arthur and Albus called up Harry.
"It honestly doesn't surprise me," the History professor commented, "I am surprised the boy held on as long as he did."
He ran a hand through his wild hair. "I am hardly the right person to talk to the Diggorys about this, Arthur. They may always have said they do not blame me for Cedric's death, reality is that without me, Cedric would be alive today."
"And Rick most likely would not," Albus pointed out, "but you are right, Harry. They would not likely react reasonably."
"Rick can stay with us, if needs be," Harry shrugged, "I know Phoebe would not mind. As his Head of House, I am responsible for him. But I agree that it is best that Arthur talks to Amos."
"Molly already claimed dibs on Rick if he needs a place to stay," Arthur pounded Harry on the back, "You've done a great job with your House, son, and you are not responsible for this situation. Voldemort killed Cedric, and Rick's parents made the choice to let their grief lead to such unhealthy decisions."
"I know," Harry shifted uncomfortably, "the war reaches such a long way…making families and children suffer who had no part in it. Its is a sad reality."
"But one we will have to deal with to the best of our abilities," Albus interjected, "and we will try to find a way to make that boy live a happy, healthy life. Beginning by trying to reconcile him to his parents.
sssssssss
None of the adults slept that night. Arthur returned in the wee hours of the morning to say that, although the Diggorys had reported their son missing, they had also clearly no clue at all as to why the boy would want to run away.
When they came to report their son missing, the Aurors were quick to determine that there was no evidence of a crime whatsoever, and after hearing the Diggorys speak of their son as if he was the reincarnation of his long dead brother, they concluded that this was not a case of kidnapping as Amos tried to make them believe, but that the boy had most likely run away from home.
Forced to facet he harsh reality, concern had given way to anger for Amos and his wife, and Arthur deemed it safer to keep them in the dark about Rick's whereabouts until their anger had passed. Rick had not been told this, but was informed that while they spoke with his parents, he would need to stay with either the Dumbledores or the Weasleys. Rick preferred to remain with his friend, so the boys stayed indoors most of that day, and amused themselves with books and games.
Harry took the youngest Diggory with him that afternoon for a walk while the others plotted, and Severus was finishing up his Christmas presents. They strolled around the lake in silence for a while, hands buried deep inside their cloaks (Rick having borrowed one of Severus') to protect them from the cold.
After a while, Rick finally broke the silence.
"Is everyone very angry with me for causing such trouble, Professor?"
Harry looked around in surprise. "Merlin, no, we are not angry with you."
"But I ran away, and now you and the Headmaster and Mr Weasley have to…" the boy was nearly in tears.
"Rick, listen to me," Harry grabbed him by the shoulders, "It is not your fault. Things have gone very wrong, I know, but it is the responsibility of the adults in your life to fix it. You were having problems, and if we had addressed them sooner, it may never have come to this."
Harry struggled briefly. Yes, he had accepted that Voldemort killed Cedric, and he was not responsible. Yet he felt responsible for what had gone on in the Diggory family after that. He and Cedric may both of them have been victims, but Harry suffered a great deal of survivors guilt that occasionally reared its ugly head still, at times like these.
Rick bit his lip. "They told me…about how Cedric died…They said…said it was cruel that someone as loved and cherished as Cedric died…when…when…"
He faltered, realizing that completing the sentence would only hurt his teacher. But Harry had already understood.
"When an orphan no one would miss got away alive?" he finished.
"I've wondered about that myself, many, many times. It was cruel, pointless and horrible for your parents to lose their son that way, Rick, but it was not my fault. Neither is it your fault that you are not your brother, and never will be. Cedric was a great guy, yes, but so are you, just in a different way. Only Cedric could be one hundred percent Cedric; only you can be one hundred percent Rick. Trying to be your brother would make you, maybe seventy percent Cedric instead of one hundred percent Rick. Do you understand what I am trying to say?"
"Y..Yes, Sir." Rick shivered, despite Severus' warm cloak, "but I think my parents would rather have half of Cedric back than the whole of me."
"That is because they do not know you," Harry gently led the boy back towards the castle, "they do not know you at all."
He stared off towards the place where the maze once stood for the Triwizard Tournament. "But that is what we are going to try and fix."
sssssssssssss
"When that boy gets back I'll teach him to run away and make a fool of us in front of the whole world!" Amos fumed.
His wife just dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief.
"Running off! After all we did for him!"
"What did you do for him, Amos?" Arthur Weasley gently asked as he handed the distraught woman a glass of water.
That stopped the older man in his tracks, and he looked at Arthur with a mixture of bewilderment and defiance.
"Surely that does not need spelling out! We clothed him, fed him, gave him a beautiful room! Half the children in the world should be so lucky!"
"Amos…for the sake of our old friendship, allow me to be frank," Arthur felt the sweat run down his back. This wasn't easy, not at all.
"You gave the boy Cedric's room, you fed him the food Cedric liked, you gave him the toys Cedric played with. You treated him as if he is Cedric. But he is not, Amos. He is not Cedric."
The two stared at him, their faces blank. "What do you mean?"
Arthur stood up and turned towards the painting of Cedric that dominated the room.
"Cedric was a good, strong, reliable young man full of promise. A son any parent would be proud of. He died far too young under tragic circumstances. He died, Amos."
The man's face reddened. "No one knows that better than we do!" he roared.
"No, Amos," Arthur said sadly, "you do not. Everyone knows Cedric is dead but you. You have tried to recreate Cedric in your second son, who did not have a chance to be his own person since the day he was born. And, God forgive us, we saw it happen and ignored it for the very reason you just gave me; you fed him, you clothed him, you gave him anything Cedric could possibly desire. Except that he isn't Cedric. He does not like shepherd's pie, he has no extraordinary interest in Quidditch but he's a hell of a Gobstones player. He is not a Hufflepuff but a Slytherin, his best subjects are Defence Against the Dark Arts and Astronomy, not Charms and Transfiguration. Cedric is dead, Amos, and until you both accept that and grieve for him instead of burdening a child with the impossible task of recreating his dead brother for you, you will lose this son, too, this time to your own cruelty."
By now, Amos' face had purpled, and his wife was sobbing into her handkerchief.
"OUT!! OUT, NOW!!" the man roared.
Arthur sighed. "As you wish, Amos. But think on my words, please."
"And my son?" the weak voice of the distraught woman tore at Arthur more than Amos's fury could, "when is he coming home?"
As kindly the Weasley patriarch replied, "Rick does not want to return. And he cannot come home because this house is not home to him. He is safe."
"Then you Will. Return. Him," Amos hissed.
"No, Amos. To return him to you now would be to put the child in danger. I will not risk it. Floo me, when you are truly ready to talk."
Amos's frustrated roar was the last thing Arthur heard as he stepped through the Floo.
ssssssssss
Arthur stepped out of the Floo in Albus Dumbledore's office. He looked at the two men waiting for him, and smiled at Phoebe.
"I am afraid Rick will have to stay here for a while," he said sadly, "And considering the circumstances, perhaps it is best if the boy stays here, Albus, at least for the holidays."
"Of course," Albus nodded, "Severus will be thrilled. I shall have to owl-order some Christmas presents for him, for tomorrow morning, though…"
"You do that. Harry and I will get him something too, won't we, Harry?" Phoebe turned to look at her husband.
"I don't see why not. It will be difficult enough for him already. A few presents is the least we can do," the frown did not disappear from the younger man's face, "how bad was it, Arthur?"
"Amos is not in the mood to be reasoned with," Arthur said honestly, "I am not sure about his wife. I did tell them the boy is safe – it would be unfair to his mother to leave her wondering if her child is alive or dead."
At that point the boys entered the room, and seeing the adults they shared a look, knowing what this probably meant. Rick took a step forwards.
"Mum and Dad…?"
Arthurs hand rested heavily on his shoulders. "Son, I am sorry, but it is better if you stay here a little longer. Your parents have some issues they need to sort through, first."
"You can stay with us," Severus came to stand next to his friend, "Right, grandpa? I don't mind sharing my room."
"Of course he can stay," the Headmaster said, resting a hand on each boy's head, "Aunt Phoebe will take you to Hogsmeade to get a few clothes for you, Rick. Severus, you may go with them if you like."
"The idiots," Harry muttered when Phoebe had left with the boys, "he's a good kid."
"Don't be too hard on them, Harry," Arthur said softly, "they need time. You cannot expect everything that grew over two decades to be resolved overnight. They never really, truly grieved for Cedric so that they could move on. Until they are willing to admit they have a problem, Rick will have to stay here."
"They could legally claim him," Harry pointed out, his face pale and worried.
"True. Which is why I asked one of my colleagues from the Children's Welfare Department to discreetly assess the situation. That way, Rick won't just be forced back to his parents. She can force his parents to seek help before their son is returned to them, and Rick will have an important voice in the matter."
As they watched Phoebe cross the grounds with the boys, on the way to Hogsmeade, Albus turned Harry around.
"None of this is your fault, Harry," he said gently, but firmly, "and it is not your job to fix it beyond your duties as Rick's Head of House. Now, if your children are being supervised…"
"They're staying with Fred and George for the day," Harry looked away.
"Then go pick them up and have some fun," Albus shook him carefully, "let Arthur and myself worry."
Harry managed a small smile and inclined his head. After he had left, Albus turned to Arthur.
"Do you think…"
"I do not know, Albus," the other man sighed, "they were not reasonable today. I will try again in a few days. We are not giving up on this so easily."
"No, we won't," the old wizard agreed, "family is important. We will somehow bring them back together again, hopefully."