I haven't posted in a while. Sorry about that. Been busy and all.
September 4th was the official first day of school. Cedric made sure he looked his best and had polished his wand and arm the night before.
Cedric stopped at the Hufflepuff bulletin and posted the Quidditch tryouts sign-up sheet. He chose Friday at 6 a.m. since it was just before breakfast and he didn't want anyone throwing up their food with an afternoon tryout.
Again.
As soon as he sat down, Harjot, Gracie and Artemis, and Winnifred joined him. Red was along soon after.
"Good morning, everyone," he said. "How'd you all sleep?"
"Just fine," said Gracie. "Apparently, you can see the Great Squid from our Common Room. I'll have to take the prefect's word for it. You seen nothing once, you seen nothing a hundred times."
Professor Sprout stopped by and handed Cedric his schedule as Professor McGonagall gave the Gryffindors theirs. He unfurled it and felt slightly overwhelmed at the schedule. Digging out a pen, he started scrawling out when he could do his prefect duties and times for Quidditch.
"Hey, Angelina," he called. "Do you want afternoon practices or mornings?"
"I would prefer afternoon practices," she said. "Wood ruined mornings for me for the rest of my life."
"Alright." Cedric blocked in times for Hufflepuff's Quidditch practices making a mental note to secure the Pitch with Professor Sprout.
"Don't think you can win the Cup a second time," said Angelina. "I'm putting a team together of the best of the best."
"Looking forward to a challenge," he said. "Too bad we can't have Esperanza and Viktor as Keepers anymore."
Angelina nodded and sighed before speaking to Harry about tryouts.
Ron opened his schedule and groaned.
"Ugh! Look at today! At least we've got Lupin, but double Potions, Ancient Runes, and Defense? Fred and George, you'd better hurry up and get those Skiving Snackboxes sorted…"
"But you like Ancient Runes," said Harry
"Not when I have Potions right after."
"Ickle prefect Ronniekins wants to skive off?" George gasped. "What would dear old mummy say?"
"Look what we've got!"
"Fair point, little brother of mine," said Fred, glancing at the column, "We can give you a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap if you like."
"Why's it cheap?" Ron asked suspiciously.
"Because you'll keep bleeding 'til you shrivel up," said George, helping himself to some breakfast. "Haven't got an antidote yet."
"Have you tried yarrow?" Cedric asked. "It's good for nosebleeds."
Fred grabbed Cedric's pen and scribbled yarrow onto the back of his hand.
"I oughta go," said Cedric, looking at his watch.
Charms was his first class of the day and Professor Flitwick was welcoming and even shook Cedric's hand while voicing his relief that the boy was okay.
"I'm just glad I was allowed back," said Cedric.
"You aren't our first werewolf and you most certainly won't be the last," said Professor Flitwick, thinking of Professor Lupin and Chiara Lobosca. "Of course, I had put my bid in for you as Head Boy since your fourth year. Pomona said to me she knew you would be Head Boy and I completely agreed."
Who knew him hexing a group of bullies would make that big of an impression?
"Thank you, sir," said Cedric. "I won't let you down."
"Entirely impossible!"
When he sat, he was flanked by Lisha and Red. Everyone else kept their distance, which hurt a little… Okay, a lot. He wasn't going to lose hope. He just had to remain open and friendly and everyone would see he hadn't changed.
"Okay class," said Professor Flitwick. "N.E.W.T.s are at the end of the school year and while it seems a long way away now, it will be here before you know it. While we will be learning new spells, we will continue working on non-verbal spells. This will be happening in all of your classes. We'll start with charms you learned your first year. Those of you who learned non-verbal quickly, you might want to start wandless as well. I hear Miss Granger has mastered certain wandless magic."
"I bet that's not all she can do," Ormond Atwood whispered to his buddy just loud enough for Cedric to hear.
Cedric raised his hand.
"Mr. Diggory?"
"Just Cedric, sir," said Cedric. "I can do a little wandless magic."
"Wonderful! What can you do?"
Cedric stood up and faced Atwood, placing his palm on the boy's head.
"Entumecerse."
Atwood's eyes rolled back and he slumped over, snoring. Cedric smirked and sat down. The spell wore him out a little more than normal, but it was different on an unwilling subject. Atwood didn't exactly care if someone was willing or not. He was the person Cedric loathed the most out of any student at Hogwarts.
"Nice," said Lisha.
"Astounding!" said Professor Flitwick, eyes bright. "I'd never seen anything like it!"
"I learned it while on holiday," said Cedric vaguely.
He didn't want anyone to know he was a legilimens and knew that Hermione, Harry, and the Weasleys wouldn't tell.
"Ten points to Hufflepuff!"
"Great job, Ced," said Red.
"Can you undo it?" Roger Davies asked.
"Uhh… no. The original point of the charm is to help a person fall asleep if they are unable to. I'm sure dousing him with water would help."
Even so, nobody, not even Professor Flitwick, woke up Atwood until class was nearly over.
"You'll pay for that, Diggory," Atwood spat.
"Just Cedric, please," said Cedric evenly, not even phased. After what he'd been through, schoolboy threats were laughable.
"Why don't you want your last name used?" Red asked, toying with the sleeve of his robes.
"It's not that I don't want to," he replied. "But when you're disowned, you can't really have your old last name. I suppose I could use my mum's maiden name, but I don't think I quite look like a 'Willoughby'."
Red wrinkled his nose and nodded in agreement.
"Anyway, I'll see you later," said Cedric. "I've got Arithmancy."
Professor Vector was just as welcoming to Cedric. The teachers had a meeting about him and agreed to treat him kinder than usual to help keep his confidence up. It was kind of them, but unnecessary. Popularity came from peer review and popular people went far. Though, approval from authority figures mattered more the older you got.
And nobody out of the ten people who made it to N.E.W.T. level sat by Cedric. He swallowed back his hurt and prepared for the lesson instead.
The professor mentioned N.E.W.T. projects and Cedric asked if reports needed to be on separate projects or if he could hand in a report on the use of Arithmancy in a project also for Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies, and Transfiguration.
"Well…" said Professor Vector, slowly. "As long as you can also provide a practical demonstration along with the math, wand-movements, order of the layers, and so on, I see no issue with that."
After Arithmancy was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Cedric was not looking forward to that.
To his surprise, Fred and George Weasley sat beside him in the lecture hall with Lisha on his other side.
"George, Fred," Cedric greeted. "How goes it?"
George was a little surprised to be mentioned first. Typically people went alphabetical with them.
"Well, considering we only have three O.W.L.s each, we've got loads of free time," he said. "Only classes we don't have together is Herbology and Transfiguration."
"Transfiguration is something that I Exceed Expectations at, dear brother," said Fred.
George rolled his eyes, but grinned.
"A part of me envies your schedules," said Cedric. "But my employment contract states that they recommend I get N.E.W.T.s in as many subjects as possible. I only dropped Astronomy, Potions, and Care and Keeping."
"Well, if you do find a moment in being an overachiever, feel free to stop by our office," said Fred. "Could always use some prank ideas."
"Portable swamp?" Cedric suggested.
Fred and George exchanged looks and grinned.
"Brilliant."
"Hem, hem!"
The small cough sent slight chills down Cedric's spine but he couldn't determine why, yet. He didn't like this woman but he shouldn't be afraid of her, right? She still had to abide by rules and regulations that Hermione made Dumbledore implement on teachers last year.
Professor Umbridge stood in front of the class wearing pink-on-pink gingham robes with a rose quartz and rose gold brooch at her throat, and a condescending smile.
"Good afternoon, class," she said when the bell rang.
Nobody answered but a couple nodded.
"Well that won't do, will it?" said Professor Umbridge in her condescending and rehearsed tone. The last two classes were not as welcoming either. "From now on, I should like you, please, to reply, 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," everyone chanted back at her.
"There," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Even of-age witches and wizards should learn proper respect."
Give respect where respect was due. Why should she expect them to respect her when she can't even talk to them like adults?
"Wands away and quills out, please."
Extremely putout, everyone put their wands away. Cedric slid his in his holster and withdrew a pen rather than a quill. He made a budget and found he could save more money for his projects if he used pens and pencils on notebook paper instead.
Using lined paper also made Cedric realize why Hermione got pissed off when Harry and Ron complained about homework. A page-and-a-half was not a lot of writing. Barely even five hundred words depending on how big you wrote.
Professor Umbridge reached into her pepto-bismol pink handbag, extracting her own wand, which was rather short, and tapped it on the board.
Defense Against the Dark Arts
A Return to Basic Principles
Um…?
"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" Professor Umbridge stated, turning to face the class with her stubby hands clasped in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year.
"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."
Cedric scribbled out the three course-goals: 1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic. 2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used. 3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.
"I trust everyone has a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"
It sounded familiar. Cedric furrowed his brow and removed the required text out of his backpack. The cover was a fifties style painting of two children, a boy and girl pointing at a book that had a replica of themselves on it. Unable to help himself, he snorted.
"Is something amusing?" said Professor Umbridge.
"No, Professor Umbridge," said Cedric, still staring at his copy. "I was merely being nostalgic. My mother assigned me this reading when I was six."
George and Fred snickered, Red hid his with a cough.
"I see, and your name is—?"
This woman knew his name. He knew that she knew that he knew she knew his name.
"Cedric," he replied.
"Cedric…?"
"No last name. I have no blood relatives or guardians to speak for me at the moment."
It hit several people that Cedric really was disowned. There was pity … and schadenfreude. Pricks.
"Well, Mr. Cedric," said Professor Umbridge. "What makes you think that the lessons taught in this book are not as useful to you now?"
"Professor, there isn't anything about using defensive spells in your course objectives," said Cedric. "At our age, we've had more than enough experience."
A wave of realization washed over them that the course objectives indeed did not mention using spells.
"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a light scoff. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Mr. Diggory. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"
"It happened our first year," said Red. "The teacher went crazy and started firing stunning spells. He then ended up in a—"
"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr.—?"
"Ellis," said Red, shooting his hand up.
Professor Umbridge pointedly looked away from him.
"Please, open your books to page five and read chapter one. Even if you have read it before, read it again for maximum retention."
At their age, everyone here believed they knew best because they could perform magic outside of school. This was supposed to be when they were practicing dueling. Non-verbal dueling. Lessons on dangerous creatures and how to fend them off. Recognizing curses on sight. Honing in reaction time.
Which meant that there was solidarity and nobody opened their books, choosing instead to stare at the professor with their hands raised to question her methods. Something like this could maybe scrape by for first-years for at least the first month.
Umbridge couldn't ignore them.
"Yes, Miss—?"
"St. Vincent," said Tabatha. "I agree with Cedric, we're all far too advanced for this sort of learning. I would think a standardized education would be based by year. Besides, we have a practical, if we spend an entire year not practicing—"
"The learning and theory should be sufficient enough to carry you through the practical portion of your N.E.W.T.s," Professor Umbridge replied.
They were riling her up.
"We need to prepare for the real world," said Cedric.
"How can we defend ourselves if we don't keep up our skills?" asked Fred.
"You are still children," said Professor Umbridge shrilly. "Who on earth would want to attack children?"
"Vampires," said Tabatha.
"Dark wizards," Fred and George chimed.
"Pedophiles," Cedric interjected.
This was followed by calls of agreement and other examples. Because their hands were up, Professor Umbridge couldn't get on their case about speaking without their hands up. Malicious compliance.
"You may speak when I call on you," she said through gritted teeth. "You will learn about these things in a safe, Ministry-approved environment."
Cedric's temper ran away with him.
"You want to know what else was Ministry regulated and approved?" he asked, voice rising. "The Triwizard Tournament. Dragons, threatening to drown loved ones, the entire maze. I lost my arm! I could have lost my best friend to your Ministry's regulations!"
"Perhaps if you had studied theory a little more thoroughly—"
"A bit hard to be focused on theory when you see Voldemort and his lackeys," he said. "You're saying that allowing Ludo Bagman to curse the trophy into a Portkey in an attempt to kill Harry Potter was just one big accident? That's, like, thirty accidents in a row!"
Several people yelped at the use of Voldemort's name. Cedric's comments started a new spur of questions and discord.
"ENOUGH!" Professor Umbridge shrieked. She glared at Cedric, eyes blazing.
He knew he fucked up.
"I will have order," she said in a clipped tone. "Detention, Mr. Diggory. Meet me in my office after dinner."
This woman despised him with every fibre of her being. For being a werewolf. A half-breed. Something he had no control over. She was the one who wrote the Law stating he couldn't own property thus taking away the rights to his farm. She was going to make his life hell.
Shit.
Cedric slowly sat down and opened the textbook to page five.
"Oh, and Mr. Diggory? I do expect you to have proper writing instruments in my class."
"Yes, Professor Umbridge," he said in a sing-song tone.
Out of habit, everyone else followed his lead. Seemed old habits died hard when you've influenced people for so long.
Cedric didn't read, so much as stare down at the pages. Instead, he thought about his summer. He imagined himself walking along the beach. Sand in his toes, wind in his hair, the smell of salt.
"Class dismissed," said Professor Umbridge. She had a sense of victory. She thought she won.
"Never seen you speak up like that, Ced," said Fred. "Knew you didn't take shit, but that was brilliant."
"She's going to make me regret it," he replied. "I know she will."
"I believe you, you know," said Red. "About V-Voldemort. He's pretty much wizard Hitler and if you, Harry Potter, and Dumbledore say he's out there then it must be true. I've never known you to lie."
"Thanks, Red," said Cedric. "You're part of a select few. Everyone else doesn't want to believe it. Silence is compliance."
Fred and Red didn't have Herbology N.E.W.T.s so Cedric and George walked to Greenhouse 3 together, Tabatha tagging on.
"Can't believe it," she muttered. "Whether You-Know-Who is out there or not doesn't mean there aren't other dangers! You-Know-Who isn't the only Dark Wizard in the history of Dark Wizards. What if this whole thing is a copycat? Of course, I'm not denying what you and Potter saw, Cedric. But if they don't believe it's him wouldn't it be just as plausible as a copycat from one of his followers? And a copycat should be taken seriously."
"Good point," said George.
"Anyway, I think it's totally unfair that she gave only you detention," Tabatha continued. "You were only speaking the truth. The Ministry did approve the Triwizard Tournament and look how that turned out!"
"I'm reminded every day," Cedric mumbled.
Hermione's carriage from her first year was still in place, gleaming in the sunlight. Fragrant flowers spilled out of the windows and vines wrapped around the wheels. It had really grown beautiful. It's amazing she was able to use Cedric's wand at all. Typically, it only worked for him, but he supposed Hermione's desire to go to the ball overpowered the wand's stubbornness.
He missed that wand, but he loved his new one.
Professor Sprout greeted them as they entered. She seemed pleased with the turnout considering some N.E.W.T. students tended to drop classes their seventh year.
"Hello, class," she said. "Cedric, welcome back."
"Good to be back," he said, though with less certainty than this morning. "Oh! I brought you a gift."
"Cedric, you didn't have to do that," said Professor Sprout, touched by the gesture.
Cedric dug into his side pocket and produced a glass sphere with a tiny jélvre plant inside.
"It's a magical succulent related to aloe vera," he said and gave it to her. "Mama Guadalupe allowed me to take a trimming and plant it."
"Oh, it's lovely," she gushed, studying the pink and bluish-green hue before placing it on one of the many plant hooks. "I will take good care of it."
He sat at a table with George, Tabatha, and Lee Jordan. He could feel eyes on him. He wanted to snap something, but if he wanted to maintain his previous image then he had to stay nice and good.
He was tired of being nice and good, but kindness in the face of adversity was punk.
As the lesson began, Cedric put his hair in a low tail and tucked it under his collar. Venomous Tentacula liked to grab onto ponytails and he didn't want to cut vines out of his hair.
Herbology was the least taxing class. Cedric knew his exhaustion would only increase until his transformation. Luckily, he had Sunday to recover.
His dread of detention increased as the afternoon went on. As he ate dinner, he worked on homework since he wasn't sure how long his detention would go.
After dinner, Cedric and Harry went to Umbridge's office.
"What happened in your class?" Harry asked.
"Seventeen-year-olds don't like being spoken to like children," he said. "And I questioned the Ministry's idea of regulation."
"Ah, yeah, I insisted that Voldemort has returned," said Harry.
"We have people on our side," Cedric assured him.
"But not enough…"
"No," he agreed. "But we've got my friends Red and Lisha in Hufflepuff and Tabatha St. Vincent from Slytherin. I don't think Tabatha completely believes Voldemort has returned. She knows we went through something and believes it's a copycat."
"I suppose I could live with that," said Harry. "At least people would take a copycat seriously."
"This reminds me of Jaws," Cedric muttered.
"I never saw that one," said Harry. "I wanted to, but Hermione didn't want to watch it again."
"It was pretty scary," said Cedric. "Basically, a big-ass shark stalks a small seaside town and it killed someone and the Mayor is like: 'No! If people knew there were shark attacks, then they wouldn't come!' because, you know, tourism."
"Sounds familiar," Harry muttered.
They fell silent as they drew closer to their destination. Harry knocked on the door.
"Enter," came Umbridge's voice.
The office was top-to-bottom pink. Rose-colored walls, magenta curtains, carpets that looked like a lion puked up a cherry smoothie, all the way down to the Not-So-Pretty in Pink Lady herself. Any free space on the wall was covered in china plates with pictures of mewling kittens on them.
This was a set up for a sweet, old grandma who liked to give out cookies. Not a Ministry lap dog who had something horrible in stock for them.
"Good evening," said Professor Umbridge.
"Good evening, Professor Umbridge," said Cedric.
"Evening," said Harry stiffly.
Cedric knew what he had to do to save his ass. 282 days until he was free.
"Take a seat," she said. "You will be doing lines."
Cedric sat at the lace covered desk closest to the door, quietly resting his backpack between his feet, and Harry sat in the other one allowing his schoolbag to thud onto the floor. Both desks had blank scrolls of parchment waiting for them. The straight-backed chair pressed uncomfortably into his shoulder and tailbone ensuring perfect posture for the unlucky sitter.
"Er," said Harry, "Professor Umbridge? Er — before we start, I-I wanted to ask you a… a favor."
"Oh, yes?"
Cedric closed his eyes and listened to the painful interaction. He felt Harry's surge of anger and the pain caused at forcing himself to quiet.
"Anything to declare, Mr. Diggory?" she asked sweetly.
"Of course not, Professor Umbridge," said Cedric with borderline sarcasm.
"Very good," she said, grin widening.
Harry and Cedric both went for their quills when Professor Umbridge stopped them.
"You won't need your quills," she said. "You two will be using special quills."
That didn't sound good…
Cedric placed his hands flat on the desk while she set the quills in front of them. They were bronze-tipped and had a blood-red feather.
"You haven't given us any ink," said Harry.
"Oh, you won't need any."
Cedric and Harry exchanged glances. Harry was mostly confused and hadn't liked this either. Lines were a suspicious punishment.
"Mr. Potter, you will be writing: I must not tell lies." said Umbridge. "Mr. Diggory, you will be writing: I will not question the Ministry's methods and will not tell lies."
"How many," Harry asked, already upset that Cedric's was much longer than his for the same 'crime'.
"Just until it sinks in," she replied.
Cedric lowered his eyes to his paper and began to write.
I will not question the Ministry's methods and will not tell lies.
I will not question the Ministry's methods and will not tell lies.
I will not question the Ministry's methods and will not tell lies.
A prickling sensation began on his residual limb, which turned to an itch, and then to pain. Dropping his quill, he wrenched his arm off and pulled off the sock, seeing the words etching themselves into his skin. Cedric looked up in horror as the skin healed over, leaving faint traces of the words down his bicep.
Harry had the same look of horror as he stared at his left hand.
"Yes?" said Professor Umbridge, eyes bright with satisfaction.
"N-nothing," said Harry.
Cedric shook his head.
"Right," she replied, "because deep down, you know you deserve this."
This woman was insane. When the two boys ducked their heads back to their paper, she oozed with the satisfaction of breaking them.
Cedric kept writing until it felt mechanical, he let his mind wander, and tried to imagine himself back in Hawaii or the D.R. The sand between his toes, the ocean current dragging at his legs, or Hermione's hand in his. He tried to imagine steering a boat with the wind in his hair. He tried to imagine what his job in Japan would be like and if he would have a separate work room or if they would all work in the same lab with their own stations.
"Mr. Diggory, come here," said Professor Umbridge. "I want to make sure the message has sunk in before you attend to your duties.
Cedric slowly got up and pushed his sleeve to show his raw, bleeding skin. Umbridge stroked a thumb over it leaving him with the feeling of needles being stuck into him.
He knew what he must do to get out of the entire week.
"I'm sincerely sorry, Professor," he said, barely able to keep the tremor out of his voice. "I will not question the Ministry's methods or—or lie again."
She smiled. She believed she broke him already.
"I see the message sunk in," she said sweetly. "Mr. Diggory, you may go for your prefect duties. I will see you again tomorrow evening."
"Thank you, Professor Umbridge." He would serve detention tomorrow, but she had already decided he would not serve the rest of the week as long as he did not ask for anything. Harry, however, would.
Cedric rushed out, limb screaming in pain. He ducked into a nook and wrapped up his limb, wincing when he reattached his prosthetic. Quickly, he penned out a letter to Viktor.
Hey Viktor,
How are you doing? I'd be lying if I said I was fine but I won't go into detail with that. An enchantment is preventing me from talking about it, but I'll try in a convoluted manner. What do you know about a writing utensil with a navy red bird hair and it doesn't use any natural ink when you use it? I know you don't like thinking about the things you learned about at Durmstrang, but someone who won't burn the castle to the ground needs to know.
— Cedric
He sent the letter using a school owl and went to bed. With Harry in all these detentions, he wondered when he'd be able to start teaching him Occlumency.