Healing (Cedric Diggory)

130K 3.2K 3.1K
                                    

Walking to the reception of the hospital I clutched a big pile of quidditch magazines tightly to my chest. I was about to pass through the reception when I recognised the woman sitting behind the desk and decided to drop by to say hello. Seeing my approach, she gave me a warm smile.

"Back again sweetheart?" She asked and I nodded my head.

"You know how lonely he gets in here."

"Well, I've heard from some of the doctors that he should be able to check out by the end of the month."

"Really?" I asked, feeling my lips curl up into a smile. Sure, it might have only been the first day of the month, but he'd been in here for so long that it seemed as if a month would pass by in the blink of an eye. "That's fantastic."

"I thought you'd be happy." She glanced around the reception clearly looking for someone, "Where's your mother?"

"It's Wednesday," I said as a way of explanation and she understood instantly.

"She's working the evening shift in Gringotts today, then?" At my nod, she looked down at some of the papers on the desk in front of her. "Your father was moved into a different room at the start of the week, do you need me to tell you the room number?"

"No it's alright," I said with a small shake of the head. I might have had a bad sense of direction but I could still remember room numbers at least. Besides, the hospital had signs up everywhere so the chances of me getting lost were little to none.

Bidding her a goodbye, I made my way through the corridor. Room 102. That was the room I was looking for. Turning into the right corridor, I glanced at each of the door numbers until I found the right one. Opening the door, I stepped into the room.

"Dad?" I called out, my eyes scanning the room to look for him.

"I think you're in the wrong room." An unfamiliar voice called out, "I don't think it's even possible for me to have a daughter your age."

Well, it looked like my sense of direction and memory really were that bad. I had managed to forget the room number overnight. I didn't look at the occupant of the room in order to minimise my mortification as I tried to leave the room.

"I'm just going to go," I said awkwardly, turning towards the door.

"Wait," He ordered as I took a step close to the door. I looked over my shoulder at the occupant of the room and felt my eyebrows rise slightly.

Cedric Diggory was lying on the hospital bed, watching me from my position by the door. He was lucky to be alive right now. The Triwizard tournament had put him through the wringer, especially if you believed Dumbledore's words about the return of Voldemort. And I did.

Potter arriving with a seemingly dead body had sent a wave of horror through all of the spectators. Everyone had believed him to have been dead but they had managed to find a weak pulse and he had been shipped off to St. Mungo's in order to receive specialist care. He had missed the announcement of him co-winning the tournament and had been tucked away in this hospital for the last month or so. He'd missed the end of the school term and the first two weeks of the summer holiday.

Over the course of the past year, I had been in and out of this hospital hundreds of times. But this was the first time that I had seen him.

I schooled my features back into a neutral expression.

"Yes?"

"You go to Hogwarts, right?" He asked, motioning me over towards the bed.

"I do," I answered making my way slowly towards the bed.

Harry Potter One Shots (Vol. I)Where stories live. Discover now