For wimmeke
Recipient: wimmeke
Author: kaitoujeanne
Pairing: Cedric/Myrtle
The Adjustment Period
The summer after Cedric Diggory's death was full of questions that went unanswered for everyone concerned. Harry Potter, Cho Chang, and, of course, Cedric Diggory himself.
It was getting to be close to September, and he couldn't imagine not going back to Hogwarts despite his current state. He'd spent the summer sitting around the house, avoiding his father, who kept bursting into tears at any sign of him, and his mother, who had shut herself in her room, and trying to not touch the furniture -- he kept passing through it. He couldn't play Quidditch, as the Snitch kept slipping through his fingers no matter how much he tried to grip it.
It would be unbearably dull to stay at home for the rest of his life -- or eternity, rather -- so he decided as he stepped through the cat for the third time that day. So why not return to Hogwarts? That's where everyone he knew would be.
He didn't ride the train; it wasn't necessary, and it would probably pass right through him as it went by. He left a few days early just to give himself some extra time to get there and get settled. The other ghosts would be there, unless they went away during summer holiday, which he doubted. Where could they go, after all?
His first inclination was to go to Hufflepuff, where he startled the Fat Friar by popping through the portrait completely. "Gracious, Diggory," the Friar said, chuckling. "You nearly scared the spirit out of me!"
"I think I'm a little late for that," Cedric replied, smiling. "But I've come back for the new school year. Maybe you could--?"
"Help you get adjusted? Of course, of course. But really, I'm not the one you should be talking to," the Friar said as he adjusted his belt. "The last student we lost at the school was..."
Cedric finished the sentence for him. "Moaning Myrtle, isn't it? I've heard of her, but I don't think--"
"Well, go meet her," the Friar said, making shooing motions with his hands. "The second floor girls' toilet."
"I can't go into a girls' toilet," Cedric started to protest, but the Friar froze him with a look.
"You're not a student anymore, Diggory. Those sorts of rules no longer apply."
And so Cedric trudged (or floated trudgingly) towards the girls' toilet, where Moaning Myrtle was busy surveying her toilets, her perpetual frown in place when she turned to look at him.
"You're new," she said, a naughty smile creeping across her face. "But I know you."
Cedric was promptly unnerved. "We've never been properly introduced."
"I know you quite well," she cackled, swirling down into her toilet. "Did you decide to come join me? You're welcome to stay."
"Er, no, no, not at all, really, that's not it, no," he stammered. "I'm here for some advice on adjusting from being a student to, a, well. What I am now."
"A ghost," she said, trailing her fingers through her toilet water. "Get used to it, you know, because you can't go back."
"I know that," he said as he crossed his arms and leaned (or attempted to lean) against the wall. "I just chose to stay, that's all."
"Is there another girl?" she said, looking up at him through her spectacles, pearly tears welling up in her eyes. "I bet there is! You're absolutely horrid to come in here talking to me when you were going after another girl the whole time!"
"Well, maybe-- I mean, no, that's not--" Cedric waved his arms frantically at her. "Please don't cry!"
Myrtle turned her face up at him, her mouth twisting. "You realise that you're going to watch everyone you loved grow old and die? Everyone you ever knew when you were alive?"
"You're certainly a light-hearted one," Cedric grumbled to himself. Aloud, he said, "That was something I had to accept."
"Good," she said as she began to slip down the drain. "Get used to it."
The night of the Sorting Feast, Cedric decided to wait around in the boys' toilets on the ground floor until Harry came in. He waited until Harry had finished going about his business and was washing his hands to appear.
"Harry!" he said, and Harry wheeled around to look at him.
"Cedric! But-- you--"
"Yeah, I know, I just... kind of decided I wasn't ready to go." Cedric shoved his hands into his translucent pockets, toeing a crack in the floor. "So... how was your summer holiday?"
Harry kept staring at him, his jaw agape. "Awful," he finally said. "I mean, you died."
"Yeah, well, it wasn't something I'd planned, really." Cedric said. "I don't blame you or anything, though."
"You could have come and TOLD me you'd turned into a ghost, though. It probably would have saved me a lot of TROUBLE and ANGST, don't you THINK?" Harry's voice started to raise, and Cedric backed up.
"Really, Harry, I didn't mean to--"
"Can you IMAGINE what I've GONE through and what people have been SAYING and I JUST DON'T THINK IT'S FAIR, CEDRIC!"
"You don't need to shout at me, Harry!"
"I AM GOING TO SHOUT BECAUSE I WANT TO SHOUT!" Harry bellowed. "I AM ANGRY AND I AM SHOUTING!"
Cedric waited until Harry had stopped hyperventilating before he spoke again. "So. Actually, I have a question about the thestrals. Can you see them now?"
"YES." Harry said.
"...What do they look like?" Cedric asked.
Harry paused, then gave Cedric a sour look. "They're pretty scary. Not Voldemort-scary -- sorry, Cedric," he said as Cedric flinched, "but pretty scary all the same."
"Oh. Sorry, then," Cedric said, feeling genuinely guilty for something that wasn't really his fault. "Have you seen Cho yet?"
"Er, well. That is. Not particularly," Harry said. "But maybe you might want to hold off on seeing her for a while."
"Why's that?"
Harry avoided looking at him. "...Because you're a ghost and it might scare her some, that's all."
"Oh. Right."
Instead of going to see Cho, Cedric instead decided to start popping in on Hufflepuff Quidditch tryouts, making mumblings about the Seeker prospects and startling everyone. "I'm just trying to help," he said when Professor Sprout pulled him into her office to discuss his interference. "I mean, I'd be in charge if I were alive, after all."
"Well, you can't play, dear," Professor Sprout said. "It's just not allowed. Besides, you can't fly a broomstick or catch a Snitch. It wouldn't be fair if you could just fly on your own, now would it?"
"No, Professor Sprout. You're right, Professor Sprout."
Cedric waited until just before Christmas holiday before popping in on Cho in Ravenclaw Tower. He never would have been able to get in as a student, and it was terrifically convenient to not have to worry about passwords anymore.
He had deliberated with the Fat Friar over whether he should be subtle, knocking over flowers and appearing as faint silhouettes in her mirror, but they ultimately decided that that would probably just make her cry. Myrtle's suggestion to pop up in her bath with a cheery "wotcher!" was automatically rejected on the grounds of possible screaming.
And so he sat (or rather, hovered just slightly but appeared to be sitting) on her bed, waiting for her to come in. She came in and slung down her knapsack on the foot of her bed without looking, humming quietly as she wiped her eyes, then turned to look up at him, gasping and clasping her hand over her mouth. "Cedric...?" she asked through her fingers, her eyes starting to brim with tears again.
"Hi, Cho," he said, feeling awkward. How does one, exactly, tell your former girlfriend that, by the way, even though you're a ghost now you're still interested in seeing her?
"When did you... how did you...?" And she started to cry in earnest, her face buried in her hands. All Cedric wanted to do was pat her back and hold her, but he sat there helplessly watching her.
"I decided I wanted to stay," he said softly. "I wanted to stay to see you."
Her shoulders stopped hitching as she slowly peered up from between her fingers. "That's creepy, Cedric," she said. "You decided not to go to Heaven because of me?"
"Well, yeah," he said. "I want to be with you always."
"That's really creepy, Cedric," she said, wiping her eyes with the cuff of her jumper. "Does this mean you're going to follow me around for the rest of my life? I'm not exactly planning to die any time soon, you know."
"Well, neither was I," Cedric said, a little taken back. "But we're at war now! It could be anybody at any time!"
"So you decided you'd rather hang around like this instead of waiting for me in Heaven? That's really pathetic, Cedric," she said. "What if I die when I'm old, fat, and married?"
"You won't get fat," he said.
"That's not the point, Cedric. The point is, I'm not going to date a ghost. I was perfectly happy -- well, all right, no, I wasn't perfectly happy when you were just regular-dead, but this certainly throws a wrench into everything. I was just getting to the acceptance part of the grieving process, Cedric!" She pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose, then promptly used a cleaning charm on it. "This isn't fair to me, Cedric. And it's not fair to us, either."
"How do you mean?" This was certainly not going as he had planned.
"The memories that we have, of when we were together, are very dear to me. And I was happy with having them. Having you here just... cheapens everything we had." She folded up her handkerchief in her lap, then unfolded it, toying with the hemmed edge.
"So what do we do?" Cedric asked.
"I don't know," Cho replied, "but whatever you're expecting out of me, I can't give that to you."
"...Are you dumping me, Cho?"
"Goodbye, Cedric," she said with a mournful tone in her voice. She pressed her lips together and turned away from him. "Have you talked to Harry Potter at all?" she asked as he started to leave.
"Not recently..." he said, raising his grey eyebrows at her.
"Oh, well, there's no need for you to," she said as she started to wring her handkerchief. "None at all. Goodbye, Cedric."
Myrtle, returning from a brief jaunt to the prefect's bathroom, was startled to find Cedric sitting in her u-bend, his face in his hands. "She dumped me, Myrtle," he said through his fingers.
"Isn't it dreadful?" she replied, patting his back. "It doesn't get better for us."
"I miss chocolate," he said.
"You're telling me," Myrtle replied.
"At least I got closure," he said with a sniffle.
"You can tell yourself that if it makes you feel better. But I won't tell you that. Come on, don't sit there feeling sorry for yourself. There's no need for Crying Cedric when they've already got me here, now. Out you go."
And so Cedric wandered the halls of Hogwarts, his hands shoved in his pockets. Maybe it would be better if he went home after all. Even if he did keep walking through the cat.
Author: kaitoujeanne
Pairing: Cedric/Myrtle
The Adjustment Period
The summer after Cedric Diggory's death was full of questions that went unanswered for everyone concerned. Harry Potter, Cho Chang, and, of course, Cedric Diggory himself.
It was getting to be close to September, and he couldn't imagine not going back to Hogwarts despite his current state. He'd spent the summer sitting around the house, avoiding his father, who kept bursting into tears at any sign of him, and his mother, who had shut herself in her room, and trying to not touch the furniture -- he kept passing through it. He couldn't play Quidditch, as the Snitch kept slipping through his fingers no matter how much he tried to grip it.
It would be unbearably dull to stay at home for the rest of his life -- or eternity, rather -- so he decided as he stepped through the cat for the third time that day. So why not return to Hogwarts? That's where everyone he knew would be.
He didn't ride the train; it wasn't necessary, and it would probably pass right through him as it went by. He left a few days early just to give himself some extra time to get there and get settled. The other ghosts would be there, unless they went away during summer holiday, which he doubted. Where could they go, after all?
His first inclination was to go to Hufflepuff, where he startled the Fat Friar by popping through the portrait completely. "Gracious, Diggory," the Friar said, chuckling. "You nearly scared the spirit out of me!"
"I think I'm a little late for that," Cedric replied, smiling. "But I've come back for the new school year. Maybe you could--?"
"Help you get adjusted? Of course, of course. But really, I'm not the one you should be talking to," the Friar said as he adjusted his belt. "The last student we lost at the school was..."
Cedric finished the sentence for him. "Moaning Myrtle, isn't it? I've heard of her, but I don't think--"
"Well, go meet her," the Friar said, making shooing motions with his hands. "The second floor girls' toilet."
"I can't go into a girls' toilet," Cedric started to protest, but the Friar froze him with a look.
"You're not a student anymore, Diggory. Those sorts of rules no longer apply."
And so Cedric trudged (or floated trudgingly) towards the girls' toilet, where Moaning Myrtle was busy surveying her toilets, her perpetual frown in place when she turned to look at him.
"You're new," she said, a naughty smile creeping across her face. "But I know you."
Cedric was promptly unnerved. "We've never been properly introduced."
"I know you quite well," she cackled, swirling down into her toilet. "Did you decide to come join me? You're welcome to stay."
"Er, no, no, not at all, really, that's not it, no," he stammered. "I'm here for some advice on adjusting from being a student to, a, well. What I am now."
"A ghost," she said, trailing her fingers through her toilet water. "Get used to it, you know, because you can't go back."
"I know that," he said as he crossed his arms and leaned (or attempted to lean) against the wall. "I just chose to stay, that's all."
"Is there another girl?" she said, looking up at him through her spectacles, pearly tears welling up in her eyes. "I bet there is! You're absolutely horrid to come in here talking to me when you were going after another girl the whole time!"
"Well, maybe-- I mean, no, that's not--" Cedric waved his arms frantically at her. "Please don't cry!"
Myrtle turned her face up at him, her mouth twisting. "You realise that you're going to watch everyone you loved grow old and die? Everyone you ever knew when you were alive?"
"You're certainly a light-hearted one," Cedric grumbled to himself. Aloud, he said, "That was something I had to accept."
"Good," she said as she began to slip down the drain. "Get used to it."
The night of the Sorting Feast, Cedric decided to wait around in the boys' toilets on the ground floor until Harry came in. He waited until Harry had finished going about his business and was washing his hands to appear.
"Harry!" he said, and Harry wheeled around to look at him.
"Cedric! But-- you--"
"Yeah, I know, I just... kind of decided I wasn't ready to go." Cedric shoved his hands into his translucent pockets, toeing a crack in the floor. "So... how was your summer holiday?"
Harry kept staring at him, his jaw agape. "Awful," he finally said. "I mean, you died."
"Yeah, well, it wasn't something I'd planned, really." Cedric said. "I don't blame you or anything, though."
"You could have come and TOLD me you'd turned into a ghost, though. It probably would have saved me a lot of TROUBLE and ANGST, don't you THINK?" Harry's voice started to raise, and Cedric backed up.
"Really, Harry, I didn't mean to--"
"Can you IMAGINE what I've GONE through and what people have been SAYING and I JUST DON'T THINK IT'S FAIR, CEDRIC!"
"You don't need to shout at me, Harry!"
"I AM GOING TO SHOUT BECAUSE I WANT TO SHOUT!" Harry bellowed. "I AM ANGRY AND I AM SHOUTING!"
Cedric waited until Harry had stopped hyperventilating before he spoke again. "So. Actually, I have a question about the thestrals. Can you see them now?"
"YES." Harry said.
"...What do they look like?" Cedric asked.
Harry paused, then gave Cedric a sour look. "They're pretty scary. Not Voldemort-scary -- sorry, Cedric," he said as Cedric flinched, "but pretty scary all the same."
"Oh. Sorry, then," Cedric said, feeling genuinely guilty for something that wasn't really his fault. "Have you seen Cho yet?"
"Er, well. That is. Not particularly," Harry said. "But maybe you might want to hold off on seeing her for a while."
"Why's that?"
Harry avoided looking at him. "...Because you're a ghost and it might scare her some, that's all."
"Oh. Right."
Instead of going to see Cho, Cedric instead decided to start popping in on Hufflepuff Quidditch tryouts, making mumblings about the Seeker prospects and startling everyone. "I'm just trying to help," he said when Professor Sprout pulled him into her office to discuss his interference. "I mean, I'd be in charge if I were alive, after all."
"Well, you can't play, dear," Professor Sprout said. "It's just not allowed. Besides, you can't fly a broomstick or catch a Snitch. It wouldn't be fair if you could just fly on your own, now would it?"
"No, Professor Sprout. You're right, Professor Sprout."
Cedric waited until just before Christmas holiday before popping in on Cho in Ravenclaw Tower. He never would have been able to get in as a student, and it was terrifically convenient to not have to worry about passwords anymore.
He had deliberated with the Fat Friar over whether he should be subtle, knocking over flowers and appearing as faint silhouettes in her mirror, but they ultimately decided that that would probably just make her cry. Myrtle's suggestion to pop up in her bath with a cheery "wotcher!" was automatically rejected on the grounds of possible screaming.
And so he sat (or rather, hovered just slightly but appeared to be sitting) on her bed, waiting for her to come in. She came in and slung down her knapsack on the foot of her bed without looking, humming quietly as she wiped her eyes, then turned to look up at him, gasping and clasping her hand over her mouth. "Cedric...?" she asked through her fingers, her eyes starting to brim with tears again.
"Hi, Cho," he said, feeling awkward. How does one, exactly, tell your former girlfriend that, by the way, even though you're a ghost now you're still interested in seeing her?
"When did you... how did you...?" And she started to cry in earnest, her face buried in her hands. All Cedric wanted to do was pat her back and hold her, but he sat there helplessly watching her.
"I decided I wanted to stay," he said softly. "I wanted to stay to see you."
Her shoulders stopped hitching as she slowly peered up from between her fingers. "That's creepy, Cedric," she said. "You decided not to go to Heaven because of me?"
"Well, yeah," he said. "I want to be with you always."
"That's really creepy, Cedric," she said, wiping her eyes with the cuff of her jumper. "Does this mean you're going to follow me around for the rest of my life? I'm not exactly planning to die any time soon, you know."
"Well, neither was I," Cedric said, a little taken back. "But we're at war now! It could be anybody at any time!"
"So you decided you'd rather hang around like this instead of waiting for me in Heaven? That's really pathetic, Cedric," she said. "What if I die when I'm old, fat, and married?"
"You won't get fat," he said.
"That's not the point, Cedric. The point is, I'm not going to date a ghost. I was perfectly happy -- well, all right, no, I wasn't perfectly happy when you were just regular-dead, but this certainly throws a wrench into everything. I was just getting to the acceptance part of the grieving process, Cedric!" She pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose, then promptly used a cleaning charm on it. "This isn't fair to me, Cedric. And it's not fair to us, either."
"How do you mean?" This was certainly not going as he had planned.
"The memories that we have, of when we were together, are very dear to me. And I was happy with having them. Having you here just... cheapens everything we had." She folded up her handkerchief in her lap, then unfolded it, toying with the hemmed edge.
"So what do we do?" Cedric asked.
"I don't know," Cho replied, "but whatever you're expecting out of me, I can't give that to you."
"...Are you dumping me, Cho?"
"Goodbye, Cedric," she said with a mournful tone in her voice. She pressed her lips together and turned away from him. "Have you talked to Harry Potter at all?" she asked as he started to leave.
"Not recently..." he said, raising his grey eyebrows at her.
"Oh, well, there's no need for you to," she said as she started to wring her handkerchief. "None at all. Goodbye, Cedric."
Myrtle, returning from a brief jaunt to the prefect's bathroom, was startled to find Cedric sitting in her u-bend, his face in his hands. "She dumped me, Myrtle," he said through his fingers.
"Isn't it dreadful?" she replied, patting his back. "It doesn't get better for us."
"I miss chocolate," he said.
"You're telling me," Myrtle replied.
"At least I got closure," he said with a sniffle.
"You can tell yourself that if it makes you feel better. But I won't tell you that. Come on, don't sit there feeling sorry for yourself. There's no need for Crying Cedric when they've already got me here, now. Out you go."
And so Cedric wandered the halls of Hogwarts, his hands shoved in his pockets. Maybe it would be better if he went home after all. Even if he did keep walking through the cat.