I Know And I Don't Care (Cedric Diggory x Reader)

Prologue

"Are you alright, darling?"

My head snapped up at my father's voice, the first sound in the quiet air of the forest. We'd entered almost half an hour ago not only the context of his question but his voice, had startled me.

The question which broke the unfamiliar silence, was all too familiar in my life. It seemed to be the first thing out of Dad's mouth every morning, followed by the question seers like me had alway received, at least by those who knew of my magical talents.

"Did you have a dream last night?"

Of course that usually came no what I answered to the first question. Whether I was fine with not having a fortune telling dream the night before or fine with lying about not having a dream, the second question startled me much more.

Especially on that early morning. For the night before I had had a dream. A bad one.

I used to think of all my dreams as bad, as my gift never gave me the ability to sit on the edge of my seat in suspense, live my life without constant preparation. I then understood my gift wasn't a curse, simply an unwanted addition to get through life.

But at times like these, or more specifically at dreams like these, the curse seemed to cloud over any sunlight that being a seer gave me.

I had had a dream. A bad one. One showing murder, violence and death. One that would no doubt place in the very place we were heading.

The burden this dream was setting on my shoulders was one not to be shared, though. Yes, my father knew of my abilities. As my only parent it would be impossible for him not to know. He was also the wizard parent as well as my alive one, so he took it upon himself to make sure he understood me.

But understanding me didn't mean I'd have to share him every dream I had, especially one that would make him worry about me and himself. He would get out quick enough to not see as much as I would.

He would as long as he didn't know what was coming.

"I'm fine, Dad." I sighed, clutching the straps of my pack. He didn't believe me, evident in the way he continued to look at me, resulting in him barely missing tripping over a pile of sticks that his observant, teacher eyes, would've seen meters before.

"Really." I assured with a raise fo my brows. "Fine, you caught me. All this walking is making me less than fine and just downright exhausted."

That did the trick, at least after one more long look at me. He smiled and shook his head at the ground at my complaining.

"Don't worry, we'll be at the portlock soon enough. Then at the Quidditch Championships in no time at all."

The sound of my favorite sport, both for it's entertainment and the bonding it helped Dad and I achieve after Mum's death, didn't warm me up like usual. For the world championship, our very destination for the day, would be the destination of my dream.

"How much father?" I whined with a chuckle, attempting to keep Dad happy and maybe even myself.

"Hopefully not far enough." Dad sighed to himself. "I don't know how much more of your complaining I can take alone."

"Right. You'll not only enjoy my complaining with Mr. Weasley and Mr. Diggory, but also the complaining of the Weasley children." I mentioned our friends we were meeting at the portlock, and then sharing the championships with. The group of whirly redheaded boys whom I shared a house with wasn't who I had been hoping to spend my weekend off of school with, but if I wanted to spend it with Dad it was the way things were to be.