"Right, so Remus helped me develop a couple potions so that your chance of infection is close to zero," said Sirius, setting up at the workstation he'd put together. "You'll still need to follow the care instructions, but should you miss a step, you won't be losing anything else anytime soon."
"How come you're working as a Hit Wizard instead of opening up your own tattoo and piercing parlor?" Cedric asked as he piled his hair on top of his head. "I imagine you'd be successful, especially if you took both magical and non-magical clients. The magical ones would just need a special word or something."
Sirius smiled blandly.
"The thought has crossed my mind more than once," he admitted, though the admission was unnecessary. "I worry that if I take up that sort of profession instead of a Ministry approved one, then they would take Harry from me. They've been threatening me with that, not so much directly but… Well, when I saw those words on his skin during the winter holiday, I tried to take it up with Madam Bones. Susan is her only living relative, you know, so I figured if she realized our kids were in danger then perhaps she'd be able to do something about it. A couple days later, some of Fudge's lackeys started talking in front of me, about how awful it would be if Harry had to go back to his Muggle relatives. The Dursleys, I mean."
"That's not fair," Cedric protested out of habit. They both knew it wasn't fair. That went without saying.
Sirius just nodded. "Especially since I already have it named in my will that if something were to happen to me then Roger and Beatrice would assume guardianship over Harry. Still, I couldn't let them take him from me, so I've had to stay in my own lane."
"I understand."
"I know you do." Sirius took out a pen. "Alright, where do you want them?"
Cedric looked down at the easily marked chart.
"Standard lobe, both," he said. "Helix left. Industrial left. Upper lobe right. Nose, left. Eyebrow, right. I'm on the fence about lip."
"I can give you a false one to wear while we do the others," said Sirius, opening a storage container filled with jewelry. He plucked out a simple silver hoop and handed it over. "See how you like it."
Cedric worked it on and crossed his arms over his stomach, ready to get on with it.
Sirius marked the sections Cedric wanted pierced with his pen before applying a numbing gel. While the gel took effect, he readied his piercing gun, making sure the fresh needle was disinfected. A couple more were lined up for when he needed to switch them out. It hurt like hell, even with the gel, but Cedric was constantly at a six these days, so he took it with only a wince, though he admitted that he yelped and teared up when the needle went through his nose.
"All done," said Sirius, cleaning up. "You can keep that fake lip piercing."
"Thanks."
"I'll draw on the tattoos right now, but I think we should take a break before beginning those," he continued. "Have a cup of tea. I also need to prepare the spells for your tattoos. What I'm giving you will take months under ordinary circumstances. You sure we can't just finish them after the full moon?"
"No. They have to be before."
"But why?"
"I'll tell you, but you can't tell anyone else. Especially not Mrs. Weasley, she'll freak out and we'll be made."
Sirius nodded and made quick strokes with the yellow sharpie, drawing out every design they discussed on his skin. As he did, Cedric told him about the mission Dumbledore had for them.
"I don't trust Dumbledore anymore," said Cedric. "So I need your help with something."
"Anything."
~o0o~
Cedric stepped out of the shower and cleaned up the blue dye that had splattered the tub. He dried off with an old towel and looked at himself in the mirror. He'd rather liked his hair long. Unfortunately, they would be looking for a bloke with long hair, blue or not so he'd had to cut it. According to the new tattoo on his arm, he had three hours until moonrise.
He'd gotten quite a few tattoos. On the inside of his forearm, he got a mehndi lunar phase clock in pink, purple, and blue, it would tell him what phase the moon would be; the more blue it got, the closer moonrise was. On his right shoulder, he got the badger Bailey designed for him, and his bicep had a band of mehndi designs. On his left pec he'd gotten a quote: It is only with the heart one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. It had been underlined by a trail of stars that swept and curled around it. If he could ever expand on it, he would want to fill his other shoulder and bicep with a watercolor galaxy. Unfortunately, there was no time. On his wrist in simple black ink he had the date he first befriended Hermione and the date he started dating her with plenty of room to add on more dates for more milestones.
Getting this many had taken a long time, it was painful, and should he decide to get more, Cedric planned to get them the right way, over a longer period of time. The magic used to apply so many in so little time was itchy.
When he had changed into his clothes, he hardly recognized himself. He was sure that if he walked downstairs now, Mrs. Weasley would scream about a trespasser. He was pretty sure you couldn't tell him apart from a crowd at any noise band concert whether it took place in a stadium or someone's basement. He wasn't even sure Hermione would recognize him.
Good. He couldn't allow anyone to see him like this.
Cedric removed all of his piercings and placed them within the compartment of his arm. Then, he took out a bottle of polyjuice potion and dropped in one of the long, black strands of hair he had saved from his brush before he started changing his appearance. He knocked it back and drank about half before coughing. Ugh, that was the most rank, vile thing he'd ever tasted in his life. In a few moments, his tattoos melted into his skin, his hair darkened and lengthened, and his piercing holes closed up. He transfigured his clothes into something more subtle, all dark colors. He slipped his backpack on and charmed it black as well, then went to meet Fred and George in their room.
The two of them had charmed their hair. Fred went with blonde while George went with brown. Fred had a full beard, George had a mustache, which he'd found time to twirl at the ends. Fred had a clip-on earring, George had drawn a tattoo on his neck. Both were wearing subtle, indistinguishable clothes, though George had hidden heels in his boots to change his height and Fred put on a brand new knee brace to give himself a slight limp. All-in-all, the two of them looked to be a far-cry from how they normally did.
"Where's your disguise?" George asked, twirling his mustache.
"This is my disguise," said Cedric, downing the potion that would put off his transformation. "Honestly, a werewolf invading the Ministry on the full moon? Who would believe it?"
"Fair point," Fred agreed.
"Are the others in place?"
"Yeah, Sirius arranged for Mum and Dr. Mrs. Granger to see a show on West End," said Fred. "Bill and Charlie look exactly like we did and will be at the Leaky Cauldron all night celebrating our shop. Didn't tell them what we were doing, just that we were given a mission. It took a lot to convince Bill to cover for us."
"Congratulations on finding a place by the way," said Cedric. "I'm happy for you."
"It's going to be a lot of work, but we're prepared to do it," said George.
The three of them left Grimmauld Place and took the bus to get to Whitehall. There they loitered inside the nearby McDonald's, snacking on chips and shakes. Fred and George were fairly new to the realm of fast food and were hooked.
"You know," said Cedric. "Hermione told me that these shakes actually have potato powder in them. You know, as a thickening agent. Without it, it'd basically just be chocolate milk."
"I like chocolate milk," said George, dipping his fries in his shake.
"Think Angelina still wants to date me?" Fred asked. "I mean… we did sort of drop out. I didn't even tell her before we did."
"I mean, if she refuses to date you after you dropped out then maybe she isn't for you," said George.
"Yeah, but we dropped out before Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw."
"Oh… yeah, you're dead, man."
"The recruiters already saw her play against Hufflepuff," said Cedric. "Professor Sprout mentioned they attended all the games to keep an eye out for any fresh players when they heard how well we played against and with Viktor. You'll just need to butter Angelina up. Send her lots of flowers and sweets. Raspberry-filled chocolate is her favorite, remember?"
"Yeah…" said Fred, perking up. "Yeah, you're right. I just need to lay out a little honey to catch my snake."
"Flies," corrected George. "Honey catches flies."
"What catches snakes then?"
"Those little grabby things, I think," said Cedric. "You know, like the kind old people use to get their cereal out of the cupboard?"
"Why are there snakes in their cereal?"
The coin in Cedric's pocket turned hot, he withdrew it and looked at it.
Diversion created. You have two hours.
"Showtime," he said, standing up and dumping their rubbish in a bin.
They hurried to the guest entrance of the Ministry of Magic, which was a bright red phone booth with an out of order sticker on the door. Cedric got in first and Fred and George crammed in behind him, one of them just barely managing to close the door. Cedric picked up the receiver and tapped out 6-2-4-4-2 while the twins bickered about who was taking up the most space. It was neither of them, it was his backpack, but he wasn't going to tell them that.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic," came the cool voice of the operator. Cedric suspected this wasn't a real woman and actually just a recorded message. "Please state your names and business."
"Cedric Diggory, Reggie "the Mustache" Dwight, and Eugene Papadopoulos. We're here to be gay and do crimes."
Fred thumped him on the back of the head for dubbing him as Eugene Papadopoulos and he laughed.
"Thank you," said the voice. "Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes."
The metal chute clinked as three badges slid out. Cedric passed them out and glanced down at his own.
Cedric Diggory
Be Gay; Do Crime
"Oh, man, I would frame this if I could," said George, pinning his to his shirt.
"Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."
With a dull grinding noise, the floor lowered and their view of the buildings was replaced by the concrete tunnel. Any moment they would arrive in the atrium. Hopefully there would only be a couple wizards they could take out and stack up behind the security desk.
"I've got spray paint in my backpack," he said. "I've got neon green, red, blue, hot pink, silver, and yellow."
George unzipped it and both boys grabbed two cans each, stuffing them in their back pockets. The golden light of the Atrium hit their shoes and soon filled the phone booth. The three of them collectively sighed with relief as they saw absolutely nobody waiting for them or even milling around, chatting with coworkers before heading home. The reason was soon revealed on the banners that magically floated everywhere. They flashed with Dumbledore's face and read: SIGHTED IN GREENWICH!
Anyone who would even be able to give the three of them a lick of trouble would be out facing Dumbledore in Greenwich, which wasn't terribly far, but Dumbledore did have to lead them back. No doubt they brought enough to keep the No-Majs out of the way citing it as a car accident or something. The rest had gone home due to their Heads not being there to make them stay. This entire place was unguarded. Cedric wished that he had the sight for magic like Hermione so he could see if there was anyone here. If there weren't… well, they wouldn't be by themselves for long.
"Right," said Cedric. "You know what to do."
He pressed the play button on his Walkman and "Come and Get Your Love" by Redbone started up. While Fred and George got to spray-painting, Cedric went straight for the main statue. He'd always hated it. How the Magical Beings looked upon the witch and wizard with pure adoration. It was tacky, insulting, and demeaning. Luckily, he knew the makeup of marble. Within minutes, he transfigured the stupid thing into a large shark with Minister Fudge in its jaws and applied a permanent sticking charm to the base.
Once their message had been made, they sprinted to the lift and Fred smacked the down button. The grilles creaked and clanked open, allowing them to step inside. Cedric pressed the button for Level 9 and cringed at the shriek the gates made when they closed. As the lift noisily dropped down to the level they needed to get to, he took out a can of WD-40 and spritzed the sections that had rusted down. The whole thing really shouldn't have been making these sorts of noises even if they could move up, down, left, right, and diagonally. Seriously, these needed an update. Muggle lifts weren't nearly as loud unless something was wrong with them. Had these wizards properly installed safety brakes or did they just hope their magic protected them when the cables snapped? How old were these cables anyway? Circa 1860? This whole mechanism was louder than the cake box at midnight.
George sprayed another message on the lift interior just before they ran out into the Department of Mysteries.
Cedric cleared his thoughts and brought up Harry's dreams to the forefront of his mind. He paused a few times to spray messages on the black-tiled walls: VOLDEMORT HAS RETURNED! RESIGN FUDGE! FUCK THE MINISTRY! Those sorts of clever sayings alongside crude drawings. He would have liked to put up support for S.A.M.B. but worried that people who had nothing to do with this would be punished in their stead and he really couldn't have that.
"Should one of us remain behind as lookout?" asked Fred, furrowing his brow.
"No. We'll make much better headway if we split up," said Cedric, passing them both walkie-talkies.
"What do you mean?"
They stepped through the ominous, handless door that led to the actual Department of Mysteries and Fred's question was answered. They had stepped into a circular room filled with doors that looked exactly like the one they had come through. There were about twelve doors and between each door in an iron bracket was a torch with a blue flame. The floor was so smooth and clean, they could see a mirror image of themselves in it. Cedric looked up and saw a ceiling that did the same. Harry's dreams didn't show this, which probably meant that Voldemort hadn't actually seen this either. It was all based on what he'd been told, which just made their jobs a lot more difficult.
"What the hell…" George whispered after the door they entered through shut.
The room had begun to spin, faster and faster until the torches were just a single, steady stream of blue light meant to confuse anyone who wasn't an Unspeakable. Strangely, Cedric didn't feel the nausea that would normally come from being spun about. He looked back up at the ceiling and saw that the doors reflected in there were completely stationary as were they. It was an illusion. He tapped his friends and pointed.
"Huh…" said George.
"How do you like that?" said Fred.
"The three of us should be able to check out four rooms each in the hour and a half we have remaining," said Cedric, numbering each door with spray paint in case they forgot that the spinning was an illusion. "When one of us finds the hall of prophecies we'll call for the others. George, start at door one back there next to where we came. Fred, door five, and I'll start at door nine. Good luck, gents. Remember to touch and move as little as possible. There's no telling what sort of protections they've got. I don't think the spell Dumbledore gave me is universal."
"I think we should constantly communicate," said George apprehensively. "Just in case."
"Good idea."
The three of them diverged and entered their respective rooms. As soon as Cedric entered number nine, the torches lit up as if they were motion activated. He headed down the short corridor and found what looked like the warehouse from Raiders of the Lost Ark. There were also rows of file cabinets perhaps containing information as to what exactly was in these crates.
"What do your elf eyes see, Legolas?" Fred's voice rang out, scaring Cedric.
"Brains," said George, sounding thoroughly grossed out. "I'm going to try the next one. What do you got, Fred?"
"Arithmancy. It actually looks rather interesting, not that I would admit it to anyone but you two, but doesn't seem to be what we're looking for… what are we looking for again, Ced?"
Cedric sighed and brought his walkie-talkie to his lips. "Clocks, mate. More cuckoos than a nut house."
"That's sort of rude to people in nut houses," said George. "What did you find?"
He looked down at the table and saw writings for an artifact "recovered" from a Larimar mine in Hispaniola belonging to the oldest magical family on the island. The artifact itself was stone. It looked to be a woman squatting with her arms holding up a crown perched on her head. Or was it meant to be a physical representation of something? Cedric frowned and set his jaw. This belonged to Hermione's family. Esperanza told him that their zemis represented their ancestral spirits and that during the colonial period they'd had to hide all their things in the Larimar mine hidden on their property, but it had still been raided by colonizing wizards in 1823. They'd gotten away with the zemi that had been of their main ancestor, the one who started their Matriarchy. Atabei. Also the name of a Taíno goddess.
"Motherfuckers," he said and clicked the talk button. "Guys, I'm stealing something. If you hear sirens, just bail."
"Why? What did you find?"
"These assholes stole an artifact and are writing some bullshit about how it must secretly contain a great power, but it isn't; it's just a representation of an ancestor," he said and took out a can of spray paint. On the floor he wrote out THIEVES in large, angry letters.
"How do you know?" asked Fred.
"Because the paper says it belongs to the oldest magical family in Hispaniola, which is Hermione's family."
"Can't you pick it up after we find the prophecy?"
"No. I'm taking it now. Prophecy be damned, Dumbledore will just have to figure something else out." He holstered his walkie-talkie and wiggled his hand over the zemi. "Pardon me, ma'am. I'll be returning you to your family, okay?" He carefully picked her up and waited for the sirens to start wailing. Nothing. Sighing with relief, he placed the zemi back in the case where it had been kept and carefully stashed the entire thing into his backpack.
He would have liked to destroy all these papers, but if he did then there would be no way to go back and return the artifacts to their rightful owners. No, this would have to wait another day.
"We're clear," he said. "Keep looking."
"Door six doesn't open," said Fred. "Trying door seven."
"Door two has this weird archway," said George. "Literally, nothing else and I walked the whole room. There seems to be a sort of maintenance tunnel, or perhaps just to make traveling between departments easier, but that doesn't quite count does it? Trying the next one."
Cedric went back to the circular room. The spray paint was still there marking each door. The room spun and when it stopped, the numbers were all still the same. He was pretty sure that if he had used magic to mark the doors then the room would have actually started moving in order to keep intruders out. He stepped into room ten and was immediately greeted by sparkling lights and rhythmic ticking. This was it… the Time Room.
"I found it," he said. "Room ten."
Within a few minutes, Fred and George came in.
"Whoa… that's a lot of clocks," they whispered.
There were shiny pocket watches, cuckoo clocks, grandfather clocks, desk clocks, all of them working with gears. The whole room was set up on metal platforms suspended over a great pit that looked like Alice's rabbit hole. There was even a massive clock the size of Big Ben with a great pendulum swinging back and forth below their feet, creating the slightest shudder in the scaffolding. If you weren't used to it, it was jarring. Cedric looked over the side and saw a set of stairs along the sides leading down. Beneath the pendulum was the biggest damn time turner he'd ever seen in his life spinning around and around. No doubt whoever worked that would be able to go beyond a month.
"Whoa…" Fred breathed. "Look at this."
Fred and George were staring at a small glass bell jar. Inside was an egg. The egg hatched and, in a matter of minutes, grew up into a beautiful hummingbird, which flitted around the jar before dropping to the bottom and shrinking back into a hatchling and then an egg. While Fred and George ogled the process, Cedric looked down at the papers. He picked up the journal containing the findings and actual process of achieving what was happening with the hummingbird and for no reason in particular stashed it away in his bag.
"Come on," he said and paused his music. "We've got to keep moving. "
Their feet clanked against the metal catwalk. Cedric noticed his hair shortening and took a quick swig of polyjuice before his friends could see. He stashed the bottle in his pocket and picked up the pace, leading them to the door on the end. The constant ticking was grating on his nerves. He pushed open the door into a room as black and silent as the one containing all the doors. Once the door swung shut behind himself, the ticking stopped.
"That's a lot of prophecies."
This hall was about as big as the one containing the artifacts, except instead of crates, it was filled with rows and rows of crystal balls. Some were as tiny as a brooch and others were as big as footballs. Cedric knew that in the very center of the room was a pensieve-like bowl that the Unspeakables put the crystal ball in and would have it recite the prophecy to them. The torch brackets lit up with blue flame and the crystal balls reflected the light creating a ghostly glow around the whole place.
"When we reach the right row," said Cedric, guiding them on. "I want the two of you to go to the very, very end against the wall. There's going to be a filing system. To open the drawer, you cast the same spell I will use to take the crystal ball. You'll open the one to the corresponding row and there you'll find the prophecy written down. Take it, leave the rest. They only have one copy of each prophecy."
He led them to Row 97. Fred and George booked it down to the end of the row to get the written copy. Cedric reached into his side pocket and removed a baseball. He'd already written on it in sharpie: Eat my shit :). He muttered the spell and the forcefield surrounding the active prophecy shimmered as it went down. He picked up the crystal ball containing Harry's prophecy and put the baseball in its place. He tapped open the compartment of his arm and placed the prophecy inside.
"We got it, Ced," said George, waving the card around.
Cedric read the prophecy and nodded, stuffing it in his pocket. "Brilliant. Let's go."
The door swung open and there was chatter.
"The Dark Lord said he managed to trick the Potter boy into believing Sirius Black has been captured," said one. "And Black will be unable to answer as he is part of the party pursuing Dumbledore. No doubt they're searching for it right now. Clever little trick numbering the doors, but it will still take time for them to find this place."
"What makes you think the Potter brat doesn't already have it?"
"Well we would have noticed him on our way out, wouldn't we? That paint is still wet."
Cedric grabbed Fred and George by the shirts and backed them towards the files. They kept absolutely quiet and drew their wands, their free hands reaching for whatever pranks they had managed to stash away in their pockets. They turned the corner and hid. Cedric flattened onto his stomach and watched beneath the shelves. He could see wand light. Shoes. seven… no, eight. He signaled this to Fred and George and motioned for them to move towards the back.
"What row was it again?" someone asked loudly.
"Row 97," came a woman's voice. "The Dark Lord isn't certain the exact number."
Whoever they were, they weren't worried about being quiet or getting caught. Cedric moved to a crouching position and peered through the tops of the crystals. The Death Eaters moved slowly down the row, carefully gazing at all the crystal balls and checking tags.
Cedric stepped back and swept his wand, imagining that he was tracing the ground beneath the legs of the shelves. Only the ones that were closest to row 97.
"What is this?!" a man snapped.
"Eat my shit," said another.
"WHAT?!"
"Orbis," Cedric whispered.
The shelf legs sank into the ground and the entire shelving unit lurched towards the Death Eaters, making them all cry out in shock. Cedric smirked and took off running towards the opposite end. At the very least they could circle back around to the way they came. Hundreds of crystal balls crashed to the ground and onto the unsuspecting dark wizards. The shelf hit the one behind them creating a domino effect.
"I think you killed them," said George.
An enraged scream rang out and a spell crashed into the crystal balls just above their heads.
"Sadly, no," Cedric replied. "Come on, keep moving. There's bound to be more of them."
"What should we do if we run into more?" asked Fred.
"Well… if I take out a couple Death Eaters you won't see me lose any sleep over it."
"I agree," said George.
They made it to the very end of the hall and found a door. The other way was chaos, so they took their chances and went through it.
"I know this room," said Fred. "This is the Arithmancy room!"
"I bet it's based on probability and statistics," said Cedric. "That's why it's joined with the Hall of Prophecies. So they can predict predictions before they're predicted."
"What?"
"The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls," he half-explained and kept moving.
The three of them burst into the entrance hall where two Death Eaters were blocking the exit.
"Shit," said Cedric.
Fred threw something on the ground and glittering black smoke filled the room. George dragged them through one of the rooms. It was the one with the archway. It was even creepier than described, though it wasn't completely empty like George said it was. A gossamer veil hung from the archway.
"Don't go through that," he said.
"Oh, cheers mate," said Fred sarcastically. "I thought the archway was there just to look pretty! They hold their parties here and dance around it like a maypole."
"Okay, drop the sarcasm, Garfield," Cedric snapped as they ran around the room and ducked into the trench. They could see the exit right through the archway. "I wasn't sure if you could hear the voices emitting from it."
"Voices? What voices?"
"The ones coming from the archway!"
The door opened and two Death Eaters ran in, silver, skull-like masks glinting in the torchlight.
"Where are you?" one snarled.
Cedric poked his head up over the ledge. "Over here!"
The man growled and fired a spell. Cedric ducked and the curse missed. He looked back up.
"My girlfriend is a better shot than you and she only has one eye!" he taunted.
"Why you!"
Cedric didn't even see the next curse thrown, but it cracked the wall. George poked his head up.
"Yo Momma's so ugly, when she walked into the Ministry, they thought a mountain troll broke in," he yelled and ducked to dodge another curse.
"Here, we'll make it easy for you," said Fred, standing up. "Go on, have a go you half-witted slugs."
Cedric and George stood up too and made faces. The Death Eaters roared and stormed towards them, keen on taking all of them out in one shot. What neither of them noticed was the path they were taking and they walked straight through the archway. The two of them froze in place and the veil seemed to suck something back. Their masks evaporated and the two of them collapsed to the floor, dead. Fred and George blinked as if their eyes had been opened to what that archway contained.
"Oh…" Fred whispered. "Those voices."
Not pausing to reflect, the three teens found a door leading to a maintenance tunnel and went into it.
"Okay," said Fred. "I'd bet my entire bank vault that a fair few of these Death Eaters are Unspeakables and know their way pretty well around this area. How much time have we got left before Dumbledore makes his way back?"
Cedric looked at his watch. "Fifteen minutes. If we can hold out that long… maybe we can bring in undeniable proof that You-Know-Who is back. If he thought that Harry was going to be here to steal the prophecy for him, then he might be here to kill him, you know?"
"Let's just get out of here," said Fred. "If something happens to us… I don't think Mum could take it."
"I agree," said George. He looked both ways in the maintenance tunnel. "Let's go this way."
They moved quickly through the tunnel, wands ready. It seemed nobody really knew about these tunnels. They pushed open one of the doors and Cedric poked his head out finding a huge vat full of moving creatures. Jellyfish? Aquavirius maggots? No… those were brains. A Death Eater strode into the room and spotted Cedric.
"YOU!" he snarled. "Where's the prophecy?!"
"Finestra!"
One of the walls of the tank shattered and water and brains gushed out towards his enemy, distracting him. His screams echoed down the maintenance tunnel, long after the door had been shut. Oh, God… this was just like the maze. No. He couldn't do it again.
"We're trapped!"
"Get a hold of yourself!" George shouted. "It's a maintenance tunnel, yeah? So it stands to reason that it's a circle. We just need to find an empty room and we can get out of here."
"Oh, here's a door," said Fred, looking down one of the diverging tunnels.
"Great, let's go through it," said Cedric.
The door swung open and they backed up as the massive pendulum from the room full of clocks swung towards them.
"Okay, the layout of this place makes no sense," said George. "I like chaos as much as the next bloke, but there are limits!"
"Let's just try brute force," said Cedric. "Come on!"
They raced up the stairs, past the time turner and around the pendulum; the ticking clocks pierced Cedric's skull like a migraine. Steps thudded over them, he pointed his wand at the catwalk.
"Bombarda Maxima!"
The floor exploded and two Death Eaters plummeted while the other three kept running. One of them landed into the massive twisting time-turner and screamed as his body was mangled. The turner didn't even slow, instead it seemed to just eat the man up and spit his clothes onto the platform below. The other one was hit by the pendulum and dropped down into the bottomless pit beneath them all, several clocks clattering down with him when he hit the wall.
"Okay," said Cedric. "If we make it to the lifts, split up. Get out of here. Wherever you have to go even if you have to hide out in a janitor's closet until morning."
"What about you?"
"I'll be fine. No matter what happens, I'm gonna be okay."
No doubt the death eaters were waiting for them just outside the door. The twins recognized this and brought out two chunks of glittering black rocks. As soon as the door opened and they caught a glimpse of the masks, the twins smashed the rocks and the darkness flooded in. Cedric looked up at the ceiling and steered the others around their foes until they finally broke free.
Waiting just outside was him. Voldemort. Black-robes, paper-white skin, and blood red eyes with a lipless mouth that stretched from ear-to-ear like a snake.
"Shit," Fred and George whispered.
"Cedric Diggory," said Voldemort. He was expecting Harry Potter, not this ragtag crew. "Is it not the full moon?"
"Sure is," Cedric said, giving himself crazy-eyes. "I wonder if you can be infected."
He snarled and snapped at them like a rabid dog, flinging spittle everywhere. Fred and George ran ahead while Cedric was avoided. The lapse in concentration was only momentary. Curses shot past him as he ran. Fred cried out as he was hit in the side and George nearly collapsed when another caught him in the shoulder. They smacked the button to the Atrium and Cedric hit another one to a floor he knew well.
One brave Death Eater had managed to catch up to them and pressed his face to the gate forcing his wand hand in.
"Fuck you," said Fred, sticking the nozzles of his spray cans into the mask's eyeholes.
The man screamed and his arm was sliced clean off as the elevator shot up.
"Oh, that's rank."
"Get out of here," Cedric ordered. "I'll head them off."
"But—"
"Don't argue just go!"
The grilles opened. As soon as Fred and George exited, they slammed shut again and the lift shot upwards. Through the glass shaft, Cedric watched them limp into one of the many fireplaces lining the sides of the atrium. The grilles opened and Cedric realized there was someone else in this building.
About to enter onto the lift was none other than Amos. He froze and the two stared at each other for a long moment.
"Cedric," Amos whispered. "But… it's the full moon. Are… are you cured?" His face relaxed and a smile spread across his face. "Oh, my boy!"
Cedric pounced and tackled him to the ground.
"Guess again, old man!" he growled in a voice not quite his own.
"You're not Cedric," Amos whispered, eyes wide and fearful.
Knocking him out so he wouldn't run into the crossfire, Cedric ran over to the window overlooking the Atrium, summoned his broom out of his backpack, and shattered the glass. Voldemort and his lackeys had run out, looking for the culprits that ruined their own heist.
"Howdy!" said Cedric brightly, taking off and hovering above them on his Velozmente.
"You have my prophecy, don't you boy?" Voldemort hissed.
Cedric reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a crystal ball. "You mean this prophecy? Oh, how does that go? 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…' You mean that prophecy? WHOA!"
Spells shot at him and he steered with his feet to dodge them.
"STOP! YOU'LL BREAK IT!" Voldemort roared and looked back up at the boy. "Yes, boy."
Grinning madly, Cedric took out a disposable camera and snapped a photo of Voldemort and the Death Eaters, the flash no doubt blinding them. He would send this to Quibbler.
"Be smart," said a woman with a mass of dark hair and heavy lidded eyes. She was the only one brave enough to not hide her face. She had bruises on her face and her wand arm was at an odd angle like it had been broken and clumsily healed. "If you hand it over now, then you will be greatly rewarded. You could have anything your heart desires."
"Anything?" Cedric lowered the broom about a foot. "Anything at all?"
"Yes," Bellatrix crooned. "Absolutely, anything."
"So, say I wanted a really fancy kazoo…"
"Give me the prophecy." Voldemort's "reassuring" smile turned into a grimace.
"This prophecy," said Cedric, tossing it from hand to hand. "You want this exact prophecy? Final answer?"
"GIVE IT TO ME OR I'LL RIP IT OFF YOUR CORPSE!" Voldemort roared.
Cedric looked at it and back at them. There was a deep rumbling sound and he grinned. The cavalry had come. The fireplaces belched green flames. Dumbledore led the way, tall and pale. The Minister and the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement close behind him. The crowd slowed to a stop and stared in shock at the Death Eaters plus Cedric. The Death Eaters and Voldemort stared back.
"Good lord," said Fudge. "He's back!"
"You really want the prophecy that tells you how Harry Potter is going to kick your butt?" said Cedric loudly. "GO GET IT!"
He tossed it down and the Death Eaters scrambled to catch it.
Chaos ensued as the Department of Magical Law Enforcement descended onto the team of Death Eaters. Dumbledore and Kingsley Shacklebolt locked into battle with Voldemort in an attempt to keep him there. Cedric snapped two more pictures with his disposable camera just in case the reporters in the crowd decided to destroy evidence of what was going on.
"STOP THE WOLF!" Voldemort cried.
"GET HIM!" screamed the Minister, pointing at the dark wizard.
Cackling madly, Cedric shot through the crowd, but was yanked off his broom by a man in purple robes and a stupid hat.
"Not so fast, Wolf!" he snarled and screamed shrilly when Cedric snapped at him. "He bit me! I'm hit!"
"Shut up, you're fine," Tonks snapped.
Cedric snatched up his broom and slid into one of the fireplaces. He turned to see a couple Death Eaters follow his lead. He waggled his fingers at the one in the fireplace opposite his before he was engulfed by green flames. He was spat out into the Leaky Cauldron where two people who looked like Fred and George, but most certainly were not, were leading the entire pub into singing "Piano Man" by Billy Joel. They faltered when they saw him.
"A werewolf," Tom gasped. "In my pub, on the full moon?! Somebody call the W.C.U.!"
"Oh, Tom, and here I thought you liked me," said Cedric, ripping the prophecy card in half and flicking the first half onto the table in front of an in-disguise Rita Skeeter. He tossed the other half into the fireplace where it burned up. "Freddy, George-man, your brothers are safe at home. Toodles."
He booked it out of the pub and into the streets of London, drunken spells just barely missing him. He strode down the street and tapped his wand against his chest.
"Revelio! Reparifarge!"
He returned to how he was supposed to look. Tattoo ink bled into his skin, his hair shortened and spiked into an electric blue faux hawk, he took out his jewelry and carefully put them in one by one, and his clothes returned to their normal colors and cuts. Band tee, blue jeans, a plaid shirt. He slipped off the plaid and tied it around his waist then stopped in an alley so he could take out his leather jacket, which he had decorated with studs, buttons, patches, and some wicked spikes all courtesy of Sirius. He pulled it on along with a pair of bikers gloves. Even his black varnish returned to his nails. His backpack went from black to bright yellow and he slung it back on before he kept walking.
Cedric grunted in pain and stumbled as his adrenaline left him. He'd been hit in the back during that fight, he could feel it. He knew that if Fred and George knew he'd been hurt they never would have left without him. Still… it all happened how it was supposed to. He'd been caught, even briefly. Which meant Dumbledore didn't keep up his end of the bargain, which meant he broke his promise and the repercussions for breaking that promise would hit him at any moment. Now Cedric just had to hope that nobody looked into what sort of potions Hana sold. He could still be okay. He just needed to get out of here. Hide somewhere until the dust settled.
"You there!" someone shouted. "Stop!"
Cedric held up his hands and a wand light flashed in his face, blinding him.
"Whoa, dude," he said in an American accent and hoped he sounded like Keanu Reeves. "Mind lowering your flashlight out of my face?"
"Just a Muggle," said one of them.
"What did you call me?!"
The other stopped his colleague from raising his wand.
"Move along, boy," he said. "Get home to your mother."
"Yeah, whatever." Cedric turned on his heel and stomped off. His disguise worked! That was the same W.C.U. officer that had grabbed him.
He knew where he could hide out until morning.
After making sure he wasn't followed, Cedric apparated to a place he hadn't been to in almost a year.
Ottery St. Catchpole was quiet. It was late and a weeknight, so of course it was quiet. Cedric looked up at the full moon and sighed softly. He wasn't sure he could ever fear it as Professor Lupin did. Reminding himself that he was hurt, he kept walking. The Burrow was just a dark shape, but the Rook where Luna lived was bright. Cedric headed there first and put the disposable camera between the branches of the dirigible plum tree. Uncle Phil would see it in the morning and develop the film inside. Somebody would report on this.
Once that was dropped off, Cedric went off towards his old house. It was dark too. Just a shell of what it once was. Nobody had tried to purchase it. Perhaps his grandmother made sure that couldn't happen. He didn't know, but he could find out. Cedric entered the place and the smell of smoke punched the back of his throat. It wasn't like campfire or barbecue smoke, this was the acrid smell of a hundred things burnt to a crisp.
Cedric waved his wand and cast repairing charms as he walked all through the house. Floors mended, the fallen ceiling picked itself up off the floor of the kitchen. He couldn't get the photos back or the rugs or blankets; that would require much more intricate magic than he was capable of at the moment. The rubbish he couldn't save he just moved to the barn. It really wasn't a good idea to use so much magic during a full moon much less when he was injured, but he couldn't very well sleep in smoke and ash. He put as much of the house in order as he could. Though it still held the smell, it just wasn't as suffocating.
Heaving a sigh, he went to his mother's old office and pried open the floorboard beneath her desk. In there was a fireproof safe containing important documents. The deed to this place. It was still meant for him and he was sure jidha wouldn't care what he did with it. Maybe… maybe he could technically transfer ownership.
Worth a shot.