❝ 𝘀𝘆𝗹𝘃𝗶𝗮, cedric diggory

⁰⁵ hidden history

❝ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲,

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ hidden history...

By most wizardfolk, Amos Diggory was thought of as a paragon of success amongst single parents. He had loved his wife as a soulmate, lost her, and loved his son as both mother and father. He had built a life incomparable to most husbands grieving a loss – at least, that was how it seemed. Cedric knew the sadder truth about his father. Being a parent was a burden to Amos when he was newly grieving the untimely death of Sarah Diggory. The woman he had awoken every morning by his side was but a pillow to touch and a sheet to pull, and their family had become but a father and son trying their best to live on.

Shadowed by his grief, Amos fell into deep indulgences of alcohol and misery. He lost his first job in the Spring following Sarah's death, and that very same summer, Cedric was forced to learn to provide at thirteen years old. He rolled up his sleeves for the first time – not the last – and slowly forgot to spare time for himself to mourn even after Amos found a new job at the Ministry of Magic. Cedric worked hard and carelessly: he perfected his grades and athletics, became a Prefect in Fifth Year, and even began delivering miscellaneous wheezes for the Weasley twins just to earn a spare sickle on the side.

What he could not perfect was his understanding of Sylvia Laurent, whose jaw had fallen agape, and ears turned pink at Cedric's admission of joining the Triwizard Tournament.

"You what?" Sylvia exclaimed, followed at once by shushing from the table behind her. Embarrassed, Sylvia slumped further into her paper, continuing to sketch her Dittany plant as Cedric leaned backward to apologize to the girls behind them. He returned to the table with a chuckle as he studied the plant before him.

"Keep it down, Sylvia," Cedric mused. "Some people are trying to work."

Sylvia would have normally fumed over any gentleman speaking to her in such a way, but she felt much too flustered to accost Cedric for his casual impudence.

"People die in the Tournament, Diggory. Are you aware?" Sylvia whispered, furrowing her eyebrows at her paper.

Cedric glanced at her. "I've been made aware, yes," he retorted with a smile.

"So why enter?" Sylvia pressed, looking up from her paper. "Are you bored?"

Cedric furrowed his brows. "No, I–"

"Is this a replacement for your Quidditch seasons?" the Laurent girl continued to pester, balancing her quill between her fingers with a disgruntled frown on her face. "Do you truly need another boastful anecdote for your resumé? How could you be so casual about such a thing, Diggory?

"Why did you enter, then?" Cedric said, crossing his arms. "It seems that I have no reason to enter. What's your reason that makes you so much more competent than I? Perhaps you'll inspire me."