Twenty:
Amos couldn't begin to express how glad he was that he had not spent a single Knut on his son's ticket to the Quidditch World Cup. Not only due to their exorbitant price and the disastrous end of the event, but mainly because Amos was fairly certain his son did not pay the match the slightest bit of attention.
"That underhanded toss that Abernathy did towards the end of the game was proper impressive, eh, Ced'?" Amos inquired while he and his family we're sitting in front of the fireplace one morning about a week after the match.
Cedric smiled sunnily back at him. "Quite so!" he agreed. "I could never imagine any of my Chasers managing to pull off a move like that. Really just goes to show that the pros are on an entirely different level!"
Distantly (somewhere under a pile of indigence), Amos was rather impressed with his son's ability to lie through his teeth. If Amos had not been fully aware that there was not a single person on either Ireland or Bulgaria's team named Abernathy he'd truly believe that Cedric knew exactly what he was talking about.
He turned to his wife and found the usual glassy look that would cross her face whenever the topic of Quidditch was brought up. "Elena?"
She snapped out of her trance and turned to him. "Yes, darling?"
"Would you mind terribly if Cedric and I spoke in private? Man-to-man if you will?"
She blinked, clearly confused, but nodded and stood picking up the empty tea tray on the way out.
"Something wrong, Dad?"
Amos looked back at his son and found an expression that was equally befuddled as his mother's. It was odd moments like this that illustrated how alike the two looked.
"Why did you agree to go to the game, son? You clearly weren't interested."
There was surprise and then confusion on Cedric's. But somewhere in-between those two expressions there was something that Amos recognized from the strange, frosty mood that had been plaguing his son up until recently. Not quite anger, but something colder and more calculating. An expression ill-suited for an individual sharing his darling Elena's features.
"What makes you say that?"
Amos sighed. "There is no Chaser by the name of Abernathy, Cedric."
The (false) confusion slid off his son's face and was replaced with some combination of embarrassment and pitiful imploring. "I'd rather not say, Dad."
"I don't like being lied to. I think I deserve to know."
"Well, I-" Cedric stuttered, shyly. "I mean I- I wanted to- y'know spend some time with you. We don't have much in common really... so I just thought if I pretended I was interested i- it would be okay, I guess."
Amos sighed, feeling a ball of tension in his chest that he hadn't even been aware of unravel. He wasn't sure why he'd been so worried. Of course it was something harmless.
He smiled and stood, moving to sit next to his son on the divan he was occupying. "Cedric, you don't need to force yourself to do things you think I might enjoy just to spend time with me. I'm happy to spend time with you in any capacity, son, you only need to ask. I'm sure next time we have an outing we can find something to do that both of us will enjoy. But, please don't lie to me, alright? No matter the reason."
Cedric smiled sheepishly and ducked his head, nodding. "Alright, Dad. I'm sorry for lying."
After a moment's silence the boy stood. "I think I'm gonna go for a jog."
Amos nodded, watching his son leave. But, just as Cedric turned to close the door behind him, Amos caught it, that same dark, cold expression and felt his insides curdle at the sight of it. Even still, he waited until he could see his son's jogging figure from outside the parlor window before he stood and made a beeline up the stairs, heading straight for Cedric's room.
The room was as sickeningly pristine as usual. Amos always wondered how Cedric was able to stand it. It seemed so lacking in character. How did Cedric get anything done? Amos personally had to have at least a small mess in order to truly feel comfortable enough to work in his office.
He wasn't actually sure what he was looking for, or really why he was looking at all, but he started underneath the bed, finding nothing aside from Cedric's empty school trunk. The wardrobe and desk drawers were similarly fruitless. Beneath one of the pillows, he found a small, black leatherbound book, with Cedric's initials, but was unable to open it, likely due to some security enchantments. He was tempted to pocket it and work on breaking the wards, but was certain that Cedric would find out if he did so. Instead he placed it back under the pillow.
After a few more minutes of searching, he sighed and headed towards the door, already beginning to feel guilty for attempting to invade his son's privacy in such a manner. However, just before he stepped over the threshold, he caught sight of a familiar object, sitting on a set of dressers.
Walking back in, he picked up the pair of Omnioculars, absently wondering why Cedric would have even bought the damn things if he hadn't been interested in the match in the first place. Frowning, he lifted it to his face and pressed play.
At first Amos was not entirely sure what he was looking at. It was clearly the interior of the seating box they'd been in, but the image was a bit shaky. Eventually it began to zoom, zeroing in on someone's cheek.
He furrowed his brows and fiddled with the speed dial, watching the video fast forward. Cedric seemed to experiment with zoom a bit more, the image going in and out of focus before finally settling. And staying.
And staying.
And staying.
Staying zoomed in on the one, specific person. Following their every movement.
The person turned their head a bit and Amos glimpsed a pair of striking green eyes and a lightning bolt scar.
He jerked his head back from the device. Suddenly he felt anxious and unsettled. He could feel his hands shaking. Turning another dial, he checked how long the footage lasted.
Two hours and twenty-three minutes.
He skipped to the end and found the same image. Harry Potter.
Settling the Omnioculars back where he found them, he sped out the room, not entirely sure where he was headed.
The memory of what Cedric had said in that clearing after the match flashed through his mind.
"I couldn't leave Harry here!"
At the time, Amos hadn't any clue what the boy had been on about, but had been too concerned about the Dark Mark and his son's safety to contemplate it. But now...
Well, even now he still wasn't sure what it meant.
Were he and Potter friends? Amos didn't think so. Potter had seemed rather shy around his son and Cedric had never really talked about Potter like he did Jonathan Davies or some of his other classmates. Not to mention their age difference would make a close friendship between them a bit odd. They were in neither the same house nor the same year, there would hardly be an occasion for them to ever really meet.
But then what was this? A crush perhaps? Admittedly, Amos had very little experience with the early stages of modern dating. His and Elena's marriage had been arranged after all.
Was this level of fixation normal? He didn't think so.
He had to speak to someone. Elena was the first thought that popped into his mind, but as he felt himself heading towards the bedroom, he suddenly stopped.
Amos didn't want to worry his wife and she surely would over such a matter.
He could only think of one other person close enough to Cedric that he could consult with.
Turning on his foot, he walked back down the hall towards their owlery, already devising a letter in his head.
-0v0-
"The masses are more restless than usual." Commented Roger as they made their rounds.
It was not untrue, they had broken up two small duels and a fist fight before they'd even made it halfway up the train. Not to mention the small explosion caused by a few third years on their way back. Now they were just searching for the compartments their respective friends were occupying.
"I imagine it has to do with this upcoming event." Cedric mused. "Everyone wants to know what's going on. Any student with even the slightest connection to the Ministry has no doubt been bombarded with teasing hints from their family all summer. I'm honestly surprised the Ministry has managed to keep it so under wraps."
Roger nodded. "Mmn, yeah. I bet they have a Taboo in place or something. Or maybe some sort of Geas?"
"Yeah probably..." replies Cedric a bit distractedly, shoving open another compartment door and pushing aside the privacy curtains before peering inside. He fights down the grin attempting to split his face when he finds Harry Potter and his two sidekicks.
"Oh, hello Cedric." greets the female one.
"Hello." he smiles back, trying to keep his composure. "How are you lot doing after that whole fiasco at the Cup?"
"Fine." growled the Weasley, his stare as accusing as ever, "No thanks to your, Dad I should say."
"Ron!" hissed Harry, though the boy seemed uncowed by the reprimand.
Cedric stepped inside and slid the door behind him, waving goodbye to Roger and sat down on the seat across from Harry. They were so close. Their knees were nearly touching. He very much wanted to just eject Potter's two hanger-ons from the compartment and just lock the door behind them. Instead he sighed and smiled somewhat sheepishly before speaking.
"He's right, Harry. I really do owe you an apology for my father's accusations. It was out of line and frankly ridiculous for him to suggest that you casted the Dark Mark."
Harry smiled a bit ruefully, and cocked his head in a manner that exposed the long, slender expanse of his neck. The gesture made Cedric want- want something. He was uncertain what exactly, but he wanted it desperately. He was so caught up in trying to make sense of his desires that he nearly missed Harry's reply.
"Do you always apologize for things that aren't your fault, Cedric?"
Cedric sputtered, uncomfortable with the concept of arguing with Harry, but still feeling guilty for his father's behavior. "It's just that I-"
"If anything I should be grateful. You attempted to defend us from those stunners, if I remember correctly."
"Yes, we really are indebted to you!" chimed-in the girl, her rapid nods making her giant mane of hair frizz even further.
"Speak for yourself." grumbled the Weasley.
Harry continued. "Besides. Your Dad already apologized to us over a floo call a few days after the match. So, please feel exonerated of all guilt."
Cedric was genuinely rather surprised to hear that his father apologized. Amos Diggory was a rather prideful man. If anyone besides Harry had told him so he probably would not have believed it.
"I see... well I- Er... Thank you."
He paused awkwardly, desperately trying to find something else to talk about. He did not want to leave yet. Not ever, truthfully. He grasped for any sort of topic to keep him in Harry's presence, but surprisingly it was Harry who spoke first.
"So, have you heard anything about these 'plans' that everyone is buzzing about? We were all pretty surprised to see dress robes on our school supplies list."
Ah yes, the dress robes. Cedric's mother had been ever so excited to have the chance to play dress up with her son. That specific fitting had taken far longer than it should have, but he was rather satisfied with the results.
"I'm not entirely certain, but I can tell it's something big and likely somewhat dangerous. I'm not sure what they're thinking hosting it at a school, but I'm pretty sure whatever it is is going to have people aside from students and faculty coming in and out of the building regularly."
"That does sound quite dangerous." said the girl worriedly. "But, I'm sure whatever it is will ultimately be for the benefit of the students."
Weasley scoffed. "If by 'benefit the students' you mean get us out of finals, then yeah, sounds great. If this means more work for us, though, I'm gonna be pissed."
"I'd just like a normal year for once." sighed Harry wistfully and Cedric felt a sharp pang of sympathy for the boy.
He tried to offer some sort of consolation. "Perhaps the Ministry's presence will make the school a bit safer."
"Perhaps." echoed Harry with a doubtful smile.
They sat in a tense silence for a few moments before Weasley cleared his throat and sent Cedric yet another glare. "Don't you have like- friends you should be with right now, Diggory?"
Ignoring his initial urge for violence, Cedric smiled his most charming smile and stood. "Right you are, Weasley. Thanks for the kind reminder. I'll see you guys around."
As he walked down the corridor he could hear the sound of Harry and the girl berating their rude friend.
When he entered the compartment Jona was occupying he was surprised to find that his friend did not, in fact, have his nose buried in a book. Instead he seemed to have just been staring thoughtfully out the window.
"Feeling pensive, Jona?"
Jona jumped, but quickly fixed his face into a large grin. "Just wondering what they'll be serving up at the feast tonight."
Cedric plopped into the opposite booth and grinned. "You never change."
"No, you've done enough of that for both of us I think, Ced.'"
Something about Jona's tone was odd and Cedric opened his mouth to question it, but was interrupted.
"What took you so long? Surely it couldn't have been that hectic."
"Well it was actually. I'm not sure what's come over everyone, but-" He swallowed, getting a sort of jittery excitement over the very concept of having sat in the same compartment as Harry. He couldn't wait to journal the experience as soon as they reached their dorms.
"But, what?"
Snapping himself out of his thoughts Cedric looked back up to see Jona staring thoughtfully back at him. Would it be okay to tell Jona this? Would it be odd to tell him how excited he was to be in close quarters with Harry Potter? Jona had stuck by him when he had his meltdown over Christmas break. Surely he's come to understand the deeper bond that Cedric had with Harry.
"I spoke to Harry. He invited me into his compartment."
There was a quick intake of breath from Jona before he smiled. "Did he? That's wonderful Ced'!"
Cedric nodded rapidly, clenching his hands in his lap. "Yes it is. We spoke about the Quidditch World Cup and the upcoming event at Hogwarts." He inhaled and said shakily. "He called me Cedric."
Jona continued to smile. "I'm glad to hear that. Sounds like your friendliness at the World Cup is really paying off. You'll be best mates in no time."
Cedric laughed somewhat breathlessly and nodded again. "Yeah... Yeah maybe." he sighed dreamily, losing himself in the thought of being genuine friends with Harry Potter.
If he'd been paying attention he would have noticed the concern in Jona's eyes.
The welcoming feast started off the same as usual. Thirty agonizing minutes of watching children he didn't care about get sorted, followed by the introduction of yet another Defense professor. Mad-Eye's entrance was admittedly more dramatic than his predecessors (which is really saying something when you take Lockhart into consideration), but Cedric was rather unimpressed, having grown tired of seeing a new face at the staff table each year.
Things started to deviate from the script during Dumbledore's speech, however.
"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
"What?" Cedric hissed, feeling his blood run cold as half of the plans he had made this year went swirling down the drain. How the Hell was he supposed to get Harry's attention now? Was all the preparation he'd done over the summer for nothing then?!
"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century."
'Get the fuck on with it, old man.' he could help but think, still belligerent at the thought of Quidditch being cancelled.
"It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
Cedric felt the ice that had been in his veins suddenly heat to molten levels, the sounds of the excited chatter around him fading into nothing but a distant buzz as the implications of Dumbledore's revelation overcame him.
That was far better than Quidditch. If Cedric could pull this off, if he could even just be selected for the tournament (though, he had no intentions of losing) he would finally achieve the notoriety he'd been striving for this whole time.
Lifting his head he cast his eyes around the room taking in the other 6th and 7th years. Among them there were quite a few with a glint in their eyes, but he was confident he could take them. Though, it was better to give himself an advantage.
He stood, ignoring the questioning glances from his other housemates and smiled down at Jona. "I think I'm gonna head over to the library."
Jona grinned conspiratorially back. "Getting the drop on em, eh Ced'? I'll save you a plate."
Cedric nodded gratefully, before striding out the room.
It was time to plan again.
A/N: I'm going to try to push for weekly updates from this point on. Expect them on Tuesdays.