The Wonders of Moving out of your Parents' House
When the earth finally stopped shaking enough that Cedric could climb back up onto his cloth draped pedestal he was thoroughly curious as to who had taken his portrait from above the mantle in his parent’s den.
He knew of their passing of course, he’d watched over the wake for them feeling forlorn and distraught that they still couldn’t really be together because after all was said and done he was just blobs of paint given a limited consciousness and not a soul. Cedric had hoped his actual soul was with them then, as he watched his Aunt Mildred (his mother’s elder sister) weep under her black lace veil, consoled as she was by the healers who promised nothing could have been done to ease their pain. That was definitely the worst part, the fact it was his fault they’d wasted away, mindless in their endeavors without their precious son. It was only a matter of time before a tragic accident such as the one that occurred, took place.
That’s why Cedric knew he was not hanging in one of Aunt Millie’s many guest rooms, because she blamed him, his portrait, the house Hufflepuff, the colour yellow, anything that had to do with whom Cedric Diggory had been, for their passing. Consequentially he’d spent most of the wake hiding behind his frame and only occasionally peeking out for fear that his aunt would blast a hole in the middle of his canvas in a fit of grief stricken rage.
But other than Aunt Millie, Cedric had no family, so who was so carefully adjusting his level and straightening the dust cloth protecting his oil based body? All too suddenly the cloth was removed and Cedric shielded his eyes from the abrupt brightness that made them sting fiercely. Curiosity driven he managed to squint blearily to try and make out his new owner.
As he adjusted to the light he slowly came into recognition of the male with dark hair and square black framed glasses before him. Though he was much older than when Cedric had last seen him it was clearly Harry Potter.
“ You’ve cut your hair,” was the first thing he said, rather brainlessly although truth be told he didn’t actually have a brain, to break the uneasy silence between them. Old Potter laughed and ran his hand through the familiar dark mess on his head.
“ A few times, yeah” he shrugged and looked uneasily back at Cedric guilt weighing heavily in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but Cedric didn’t want to hear it.
“ Where am I?” he stood and straightened his yellow and black champions uniform, cursing the damn thing for reminding him every time he looked down that this was what he’d died in, that he wasn’t real at all, and attempted to look around Potter’s body.
“ Oh- my house, my study, I hope you don’t mind me having you, your Aunt-“
“ Was a piece of work herself. It’s all right, I’d rather be here than at the wrong end of an incendio,” he smiled gently trying to let Potter know he was not unhappy with the current turn of events.
“Right, Cedric,” for some reason Potter saying his name made it feel like someone had just tipped his frame sideways, “ The reason I’ve brung you here is-”
“ For my charming company of course.” Cedric smiled darkly at him, “Don’t feel like you owe me something, Harry,” The name was thick in his throat. Harry was the boy who’d struggled to keep up with the other champions, fighting as if his life depended on it -which considering Cedric supposed his life actually did depend upon it at the time- not this strange man; this was Potter.
“ I don’t I- I just wanted to see you to make sure you’re all right,” Potter stumbled back into his desk, perching on it and rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses, laughing a bit at himself, “ I’m crazy, I’ve gone absolutely mental I’m talking to paint and-” Cedric was looking intently at him when he finally raised his head again.
“ It’s been a long time,” he started slowly unsure how to go about things like this, “ I can’t exactly speak for what the actual me is thinking but,” Cedric furrowed his brows this portrait thing was still very complicated even after decades of getting used to it in his parents’ den, “ As an accurate representation of what Cedric Diggory was like in life, I have to say that I’m not mad at you,” he stated simply, satisfied that Potter would now leave him be.
“ For what it’s worth now, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I would have never- If I’d known-” Harry pushed himself off of his desk and instead dropped into his high backed swiveling leather chair, twisting the seat to face the wall Cedric looked down upon him from.
“ But you didn’t,” Cedric shook his head, “ No one could’ve. It wasn’t your fault, my parents told you that, and now I’m telling you. It wasn’t your fault, Harry,” the name didn’t stick in his moth anymore, now as he looked into the wide green eyes before him he saw the same fourteen-year-old boy who just tried to scrape by on what he had and was always fair and decent.
Harry dropped his head back into his hands, his glasses pushed up as he sighed shakily into his palms, “ It was such a long time ago,”
“ And many others have died as well. You weren’t responsible for any of those deaths either, Harry. I’m sure you’d made your peace with it long before now, so what’s the real reason you’ve brought me here?” Harry looked up, startled by the painting’s words.
“ I just, I went to your parents' wake and heard your aunt-“ he gestured vaguely and Cedric nodded sympathetically she was quite clear in her intentions towards his meager canvas, “ I couldn’t let her do that to what was left…” he licked his lips a moment, “ You never deserved anything like what happened to you, and I wanted to make it up to you some how,” he reached out hesitantly and stroked Cedric’s frame. He watched Potter- Harry curiously as he now touched his background with reverence. Harry looked up from his hand, his eyes flashing with something almost predatory in their depths.
“ So the question is really what do you want?” Cedric swallowed, his limited mind whirling at the mere prospect of what Harry was offering.
“ I-I don’t know. I’ve only had my parents for company for so long…” Cedric began remembering, places, people faces long forgotten, “ Tell me everything that’s happened? What’s going on in the world, I don’t even know how the war ended, favorably of course but…” Potter nodded leaning back in his chair, “ People, tell me of what happened to my friends, of-“ Cedric struggled, “ Of Cho?” Potter darkened considerably, “ She came to the house once, I think, but the second she saw me she ran out…” It was like he was waking from a long sleep, his parents had never had a rational conversation with him in his portrait before, they’d always treated him as if he was about to jump out of his frame and join them for dinner.
“ I’ll tell you everything I can remember and what I don’t know I’ll find out,” Potter agreed with his brows furrowed as if he was already trying to recall minute details from the past. There was a new fresh feeling about Cedric now, like a layer of fine dust had been removed from his surface and he could see anew.
He looked down at Potter and surmised that the rest of his days in this study would be wonderful.
He knew of their passing of course, he’d watched over the wake for them feeling forlorn and distraught that they still couldn’t really be together because after all was said and done he was just blobs of paint given a limited consciousness and not a soul. Cedric had hoped his actual soul was with them then, as he watched his Aunt Mildred (his mother’s elder sister) weep under her black lace veil, consoled as she was by the healers who promised nothing could have been done to ease their pain. That was definitely the worst part, the fact it was his fault they’d wasted away, mindless in their endeavors without their precious son. It was only a matter of time before a tragic accident such as the one that occurred, took place.
That’s why Cedric knew he was not hanging in one of Aunt Millie’s many guest rooms, because she blamed him, his portrait, the house Hufflepuff, the colour yellow, anything that had to do with whom Cedric Diggory had been, for their passing. Consequentially he’d spent most of the wake hiding behind his frame and only occasionally peeking out for fear that his aunt would blast a hole in the middle of his canvas in a fit of grief stricken rage.
But other than Aunt Millie, Cedric had no family, so who was so carefully adjusting his level and straightening the dust cloth protecting his oil based body? All too suddenly the cloth was removed and Cedric shielded his eyes from the abrupt brightness that made them sting fiercely. Curiosity driven he managed to squint blearily to try and make out his new owner.
As he adjusted to the light he slowly came into recognition of the male with dark hair and square black framed glasses before him. Though he was much older than when Cedric had last seen him it was clearly Harry Potter.
“ You’ve cut your hair,” was the first thing he said, rather brainlessly although truth be told he didn’t actually have a brain, to break the uneasy silence between them. Old Potter laughed and ran his hand through the familiar dark mess on his head.
“ A few times, yeah” he shrugged and looked uneasily back at Cedric guilt weighing heavily in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but Cedric didn’t want to hear it.
“ Where am I?” he stood and straightened his yellow and black champions uniform, cursing the damn thing for reminding him every time he looked down that this was what he’d died in, that he wasn’t real at all, and attempted to look around Potter’s body.
“ Oh- my house, my study, I hope you don’t mind me having you, your Aunt-“
“ Was a piece of work herself. It’s all right, I’d rather be here than at the wrong end of an incendio,” he smiled gently trying to let Potter know he was not unhappy with the current turn of events.
“Right, Cedric,” for some reason Potter saying his name made it feel like someone had just tipped his frame sideways, “ The reason I’ve brung you here is-”
“ For my charming company of course.” Cedric smiled darkly at him, “Don’t feel like you owe me something, Harry,” The name was thick in his throat. Harry was the boy who’d struggled to keep up with the other champions, fighting as if his life depended on it -which considering Cedric supposed his life actually did depend upon it at the time- not this strange man; this was Potter.
“ I don’t I- I just wanted to see you to make sure you’re all right,” Potter stumbled back into his desk, perching on it and rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses, laughing a bit at himself, “ I’m crazy, I’ve gone absolutely mental I’m talking to paint and-” Cedric was looking intently at him when he finally raised his head again.
“ It’s been a long time,” he started slowly unsure how to go about things like this, “ I can’t exactly speak for what the actual me is thinking but,” Cedric furrowed his brows this portrait thing was still very complicated even after decades of getting used to it in his parents’ den, “ As an accurate representation of what Cedric Diggory was like in life, I have to say that I’m not mad at you,” he stated simply, satisfied that Potter would now leave him be.
“ For what it’s worth now, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I would have never- If I’d known-” Harry pushed himself off of his desk and instead dropped into his high backed swiveling leather chair, twisting the seat to face the wall Cedric looked down upon him from.
“ But you didn’t,” Cedric shook his head, “ No one could’ve. It wasn’t your fault, my parents told you that, and now I’m telling you. It wasn’t your fault, Harry,” the name didn’t stick in his moth anymore, now as he looked into the wide green eyes before him he saw the same fourteen-year-old boy who just tried to scrape by on what he had and was always fair and decent.
Harry dropped his head back into his hands, his glasses pushed up as he sighed shakily into his palms, “ It was such a long time ago,”
“ And many others have died as well. You weren’t responsible for any of those deaths either, Harry. I’m sure you’d made your peace with it long before now, so what’s the real reason you’ve brought me here?” Harry looked up, startled by the painting’s words.
“ I just, I went to your parents' wake and heard your aunt-“ he gestured vaguely and Cedric nodded sympathetically she was quite clear in her intentions towards his meager canvas, “ I couldn’t let her do that to what was left…” he licked his lips a moment, “ You never deserved anything like what happened to you, and I wanted to make it up to you some how,” he reached out hesitantly and stroked Cedric’s frame. He watched Potter- Harry curiously as he now touched his background with reverence. Harry looked up from his hand, his eyes flashing with something almost predatory in their depths.
“ So the question is really what do you want?” Cedric swallowed, his limited mind whirling at the mere prospect of what Harry was offering.
“ I-I don’t know. I’ve only had my parents for company for so long…” Cedric began remembering, places, people faces long forgotten, “ Tell me everything that’s happened? What’s going on in the world, I don’t even know how the war ended, favorably of course but…” Potter nodded leaning back in his chair, “ People, tell me of what happened to my friends, of-“ Cedric struggled, “ Of Cho?” Potter darkened considerably, “ She came to the house once, I think, but the second she saw me she ran out…” It was like he was waking from a long sleep, his parents had never had a rational conversation with him in his portrait before, they’d always treated him as if he was about to jump out of his frame and join them for dinner.
“ I’ll tell you everything I can remember and what I don’t know I’ll find out,” Potter agreed with his brows furrowed as if he was already trying to recall minute details from the past. There was a new fresh feeling about Cedric now, like a layer of fine dust had been removed from his surface and he could see anew.
He looked down at Potter and surmised that the rest of his days in this study would be wonderful.