Chapter Text
Cedric Diggory had a lot to learn and not a lot of time to learn it.
He’d often imagined his first day of work at the Ministry of Magic, but the real thing turned out to be vastly different. He did go to the Ministry with his father, as he’d always thought he would, but he’d always imagined he would spend his first day meeting everyone in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, specifically the Beasts division, discussing field research, and reading the latest reports on new discoveries of beasts. The office he’d imagined was the office he’d visited so many times with his father, full of passionate and adventurous people with a thirst for knowledge about the natural world.
The office Cedric ended up in was not that office.
Instead of stopping at the fourth floor, Cedric waved goodbye to his grim-faced father — Amos and Fiona were still coming to terms with Cedric’s decision to abandon his research career — and continued on to the second floor: The Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
Everyone on this floor looked as grave as his father. People bustled down hallways with urgency, and when they conferred over desks, they spoke in low tones and hurried whispers. There was none of the shouting and loud laughter Cedric had seen when he’d visited his father’s office as young boy. No one smiled at him as he headed down the hall for the Auror Department. Instead, they hurried quickly, and gave him little more than a glance as they passed him.
The Auror Department was no less busy than the hallways. Cedric could see the rows of desks that filled the office workspace and three offices against the back wall, clearly labeled with gold lettering. The Muggle Liaison office was dimly lit, and had no windows looking in, so Cedric could not be sure if anyone was on duty. Next to it was the office of the Head of the Auror Department, Rufus Scrimgeour. Through the frosted glass, Cedric could see the shape of someone moving around the desk, but it was impossible to know who it was or what they were doing. Finally, the office of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was completely black and undisturbed. That seemed odd to Cedric, that the head of the entire department could be absent when the Ministry was in a crisis as serious as the return of Voldemort. The rest of the office was full of people, wanted posters, and flashing alerts as sightings, both real and imagined, of Death Eaters were called in. Among the Aurors hurrying about the desks, Cedric recognized Fabian and Gideon Prewett, but they were deep in conversation and did not notice him.
Tonks was there too, seated at one of the desks and staring vacantly at a piece of parchment in her hand. Her hair was mousy brown today, and her face was unusually striking, with high cheekbones and a sharp nose, almost like Sirius and Regulus Black. He knew she did not like the Black side of her family, so he could not imagine she intentionally tried to look like them. Usually, her face was softer, and her eyes more prominent. It struck him that her appearance had always been a conscious choice, and he guessed by the distant look in her eyes this was what she looked like when she was not trying.
“Can I help you?”
Cedric turned, and was startled to see a young woman leaning against a desk stacked with paper work. She had a paper in each hand and three paper airplanes hovering above her head. One poked insistently at her cheek, but she did not seem to notice it. A fourth zoomed around the corner and planted itself in her large hair, which framed her face like a halo. Her wide nose and sharp eyes made her look almost like a lioness on the hunt. Cedric tried to be disarming, afraid she might pounce otherwise.
He smiled. “Good morning. I’m looking for Kingsley Shacklebolt?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
The cold welcome startled Cedric. He wondered where he’d misstepped. “Er — I’m Cedric Diggory? I’m supposed to work under him. He agreed to take me on in the Auror Training Program.”
“Shacklebolt has been reassigned.” Her voice was unsympathetic. She set her papers down and picked up her wand. With it, she summoned a sheet of paper from within one of the stacks on her desk. She scanned it quickly, then set it down. She snatched one of the memos out of the air, read it, then crumpled it and tossed it into a waste basket. When she picked another from over her head and read it, Cedric realized she thought their conversation was over.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” he tried to be as polite as possible, “but I’m not sure what I should do if I’m not working under Kingsley.”
The secretary looked at him as if he were little more than a house-elf asking where to put away linens.
“Talk to the Chief Captain of the Hit Wizard’s Department. Marcus Charmstone.” She scribbled a note on a piece of parchment, turned it into an airplane, and sent it off down the hallway. “You’ve passed all the qualifications necessary for Aurorship, right?”
“Yes, though my N.E.W.T. results —”
“Excellent.” She had clearly stopped listening after “Yes.” She continued, “Then you’ll be competent enough to be a Hit Wizard. Their training is shorter, less comprehensive. Charmstone always needs more hands on deck.”
This time, she actually looked at Cedric when she spoke, and she seemed to register the disappointment on his face. The hardness in her onyx eyes softened.
“Look — this should all just be temporary. We’re going through a lot of transitions at the office right now, as I’m sure you can imagine with all this You-Know-Who business.” She glanced over to Rufus Scrimgeour’s office, then at the dark windows of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement office. “All it’ll take is another Auror to pick up your training. I’m sure someone will soon. Give it some time.”
Cedric tried to smile. He knew Tonks had already jokingly said she’d take him on when he’d discussed his career path with her. She, however, had only been an Auror for two years, and wasn’t eligible to take on any new recruits. Surely one of the other Aurors in the Order — the Longbottoms or the Prewetts — would volunteer to take him soon.
“Thanks,” he said. “Could I have directions to Chief Captain Charmstone’s office, then?”
At the young woman’s direction, Cedric made his way down the hall and around the corner to the Hit Wizard’s Department. He inquired after the Chief Captain, was directed to a large, dark, bearded man, and had barely introduced himself when a report of giants in West Country came through. As Charmstone barked orders, a dozen Hit Wizards hurried to the Apparition point. When Charmstone asked why Cedric was still standing there, Cedric ran after them. It seemed that his first day on the job had already begun.
Cedric had never fought giants before, but he learned quickly. They couldn’t be stunned; most dueling jinxes bounced right off their thick skin. The task required cooperation with the other Hit Wizards — whose names he didn’t know — and creative combat techniques. That, at least, he had some idea of how to handle, since he’d faced a dragon, grindylows, acromantula, Blast-Ended Skrewts, and several Death Eaters before.
Defeating giants wasn’t the end of the task. Hit Wizards were responsible for helping round up Muggles after a catastrophe and delivering them safely to the Obliviators. Cedric was in the middle of promising a Muggle woman that he could explain everything to her if she would just come down from the tree she’d climbed when another Hit Wizard came up behind him.
“This is faster,” the young man said, and flicked his wand. The woman gasped loudly as she was hoisted by her ankle into the air then carefully lowered onto the ground. “Come on, miss,” the Hit Wizard said, and helped her to her feet. “You’ll be fit as a Flitterby in a moment.”
Cedric helped support the woman on one side and together, the two carried her to the Obliviators, who saw to it she had no memory of climbing a tree to hide from giants, and instead felt foolish for climbing a tree in a hurricane.
“Is this what the job is?” Cedric asked, and wiped sweat from his brow. He and the Hit Wizard started another walk around the block, looking for any Muggles that might have been missed. “Rounding up Muggles and dueling giants?”
“The giants are new,” the young man said with a laugh. He held his hand out to Cedric. “Welcome aboard. I’m Christian Thelborne.”
Cedric took his hand. “Gryffindor, right?”
Thelborne grinned. “How could you tell?”
“Cedric Diggory. I was a prefect for Hufflepuff. You were Prefect with… Percy Weasley, right? I had only just started my prefect duties when he was made Head Boy.”
“Oh! Yeah, I know Percy. Such a pencil pusher. Worse than my sister.” “
Cedric struggled to remember another Thelborne at Hogwarts. He eventually landed on another Gryffindor Prefect, Anne Thelborne. He hadn’t known her well, but he did recall the two of them working together to stop a duel between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Outside of prefect duties, though, they’d hardly spoken. Cedric thought he recalled a second Thelborne girl, but he couldn’t place a name or face among his fellow prefects.
“And you,” Thelborne said, “you were the Champion in the Triwizard Tournament, right?”
“Yeah — Harry and I both.”
“Is that where you got that scar?” Thelborne pointed at the thick white line that ran along the inside of Cedric’s wand arm, from wrist to elbow.
Cedric shook his sleeve back down to cover the blemish. “No — that was from a Death Eater.”
Thelborne took the guarded tone in Cedric’s voice as a hint and didn’t press any further.
As they completed their circuit, Cedric tried very hard not to think about the night his arm had been sliced open, but of course trying not to think about something was never very effective. It was a fresh memory. The battle in the Department of Mysteries had been only a week ago, and the Death Eater Pyrites had cut Cedric’s arm open in an effort to convince Harry to hand over a prophecy. Cedric remembered the sharp pain as Pyrites’ wand trailed his arm, as if a knife had cut its way into his skin. The pain, though, hadn’t been the worst of it. The worst part had been the Silencing Charm. Cedric had screamed in pain, but no sound had come out. It was an indescribable kind of terror, to try to scream, to pour all your breath and strength into begging for help, but to be met with utter silence. It wasn’t as bad as the Cruciatus Curse, but it was a different sort of fear.
“Thelborne!” Charmstone shouted, as Cedric and Thelborne returned to the Obliviators’ temporary base.
Cedric tried to look alert and not like he was lost in his own head. He tightened his hand around his wand and felt the strain in his wrist. He coughed, just to remind himself he had a voice.
“New assignment,” Charmstone said to Thelborne. “You’re picking up a Muggle Junior Minister by the name of Herbert Chorley. He’s quacking.”
“What concern of ours is it if some Muggle’s cracked?” Thelborne asked. His deep green eyes seemed so tired.
“Get him to St. Mungo’s and find out. You don’t make the orders, just take them. And take the new kid with you. Show him how to move around Muggles.”
Thelborne made a face at his Chief Captain, then smiled apologetically at Cedric. “Here we go, then.”
Thelborne held out his hand, and he and Cedric Apparated back to London.
The moment they appeared in a small alley, Cedric felt the cold, damp fog soak its way through his robes and into his bones. He shivered and rubbed his arms.
“This is unusual July weather.” He tried to breathe warmth into his hands, but his core remained cold, frozen. He wished he could curl up by the fire in the Hufflepuff common room, the way he used to when he had nightmares about dying in a graveyard.
Thelborne frowned and sniffed the air, then wrinkled his nose. “Dementors. They’re breeding.”
Cedric shivered at the thought, then shivered again from the cold. “Finally left Azkaban, have they?”
“I think it was only a matter of time after Regulus Black broke out. Bit of an insult to their pride, I imagine.”
Cedric snorted. “I don’t imagine dementors have much in the way of feelings.”
Thelborne frowned. “Then you’re lucky you’ve never had to speak to one.”
Cedric had exactly one experience with dementors, and that was when one had boarded the Hogwarts Express in search of Regulus Black. It had been Cedric’s first year as a prefect. They’d only just finished up their meeting, and he was ready to take on his new duties. He’d found a carriage of first year students and was answering their questions about Hogwarts, helping to allay some of their worries about a new school so far away from home. All his hard work had been wasted when the train halted suddenly. One of them had started crying before Cedric even felt the cold.
He’d bravely stood between them and the door, wand ready, as the dark, hooded figure had glided down the corridor. He’d trembled while it passed, but he’d stayed on his feet, even as frost crept over the windows. Then it was gone, and he was left feeling desperately cold inside with five terrified eleven year-olds crying and begging to go home.
Cedric pulled his robes tighter in an effort to stave off the cold and tried to think about anything but talking to that thing that had left so much fear in his heart.
“Where do you think this Junior Minister is?” Cedric asked.
Thelborne shrugged. “Where do you find a quacking Muggle?”
“Where do you find ducks?”
It turned out that the Junior Minister wasn’t hard to find. He was wandering along the nearby bank of the Thames, hands on his hips and elbows flapping as he quacked. The hard part was how they ought to handle the Muggle photographers that had gathered to document this absurd event.
“This is the job,” Thelborne sighed, and ran a hand through his curly blonde hair. As he pushed his bangs back, Cedric was struck by the unusual elfin features in Thelborne’s face. He had high cheekbones, a lengthy jaw line, and a firm but fine nose. It reminded Cedric of a more vibrant version of the Black family.
“How are your Disguise Spells?” Thelborne asked.
Cedric blinked. “I mean, I don’t have a lot —”
“S’alright.” Thelborne tapped his wand on Cedric’s head, then himself. Their wizard robes vanished, replaced by crisp, freshly pressed Muggle suits. Thelborne’s blonde hair and fine features vanished as well. He looked plain, with hair and eyes in identical shades of brown, and a round shape to his face that struck Cedric as entirely forgettable. Cedric wondered what he looked like, but he wasn’t about to ask if Thelborne carried a compact mirror.
Instead, Cedric looked down at his clothes. “Suits?”
“A good, easy Muggle disguise. Indistinct, lends authority, handy to be able to create, or even to keep in your pocket if that’s easier.”
Cedric noted the advice. He was grateful to have been paired up with Thelborne, for however long it lasted. It may not have been the day he was expecting, but he was already learning quite a bit.
Thelborne told the paparazzi that he and Cedric were Chorley’s security and got the Junior Minister away from the river and flashing cameras. When Chorley struggled and tried to break out of their grip, Thelborne promised him they had bread crumbs where they were going, nice tasty bread crumbs, and Chorley settled down for a bit.
Once they were out of view of any Muggles, especially those with cameras, Thelborne and Cedric Apparated to St. Mungo’s. Their disguises vanished as they appeared in the hospital’s waiting room. For a moment, Cedric wondered if it had something to do with the magic of the hospital, but as Thelborne flashed the Hit Wizard emblem on his robe at a young, curly-haired Healer in bright green robes, Cedric thought dropping the disguise might have been intentional.
“Not sure what’s wrong with him,” Thelborne said to the Healer. “He’s a Muggle, though, so —”
The poor young man looked exasperated. “Hit Wizard or not, if none of you are on death’s door, wait in line, please. We’re a bit understaffed right now.”
And he was gone, leaving Thelborne looking miffed at the brusque treatment. It didn’t surprise Cedric, though. He wondered how many patients here were victims of the giant attack just hours ago, and how many more were here because of damage done by the Death Eaters just this week.
Cedric struggled to hold onto Chorley’s arm as he guided him to the line for the Welcome Witch. Chorley was still flapping his arms and quacking.
“Normally they’re a bit quicker to jump to the badge,” Thelborne muttered as he joined Cedric in line. “I guess this week’s been hard everywhere.” His bright green eyes clouded with worry as they drifted over the list of floors in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
“Something wrong?” Cedric asked.
“Just wondering….” Thelborne chewed on the inside of his cheek. Without the friendly smile and jocular attitude he’d had just a half hour ago, he looked almost dangerous. “Amelia Bones is in here somewhere. At least, they say she is. Death Eater attack last week. She’s the head of the whole Law Enforcement Department and they haven’t said they’re replacing her yet, so she must be alright still, but….”
“‘Bones’?” Cedric repeated. The name was familiar. “Does she have a daughter at Hogwarts? Susan?”
“Niece, I think,” Thelborne ran his hands over his face. The danger in his tight jaw seemed to wipe away beneath his fingers, replaced with worry and exhaustion, an expression Cedric was overly familiar with from his stay with the Order last summer, and from his own reflection in his final year at Hogwarts. “And rumor is that Rufus Scrimgeour’s getting moved out of his position, so that’s the Head of the Aurors out. Then Carter and Walsh disappeared last week.”
“Carter and…?”
“Just friends of mine. Other Hit Wizards. Walsh was my Squadron Captain. Carter and I were competing to be the next one to make Auror.” Thelborne’s green eyes were tinted with only a little jealousy as they flicked once over Cedric.
Cedric resisted the urge to defend himself, partially because he wasn’t sure he could, and partially because they’d arrived at the Welcome Witch’s Desk.
While Thelborne explained they’d been given orders to take in the Muggle Junior Minister, she raised an eyebrow at the quacking man. After a brief exchange where she tried to explain they didn’t treat Muggles just because they might be a bit mad and Thelborne tried to explain he had orders to follow and it could always be something worse, the witch directed them to the fourth floor, Clair Kazemi ward. Chorley came along easily now, looking almost giddy as he quacked at Cedric, Thelborne, and the lift doors. They found the Clair Kazemi ward and the Healer on duty, an elderly witch named Guinevere Highwater.
Healer Highwater frowned when Thelborne explained the situation to her. She directed Thelborne and Cedric to get Chorley seated in a nearby chair. Chorley settled into his seat easily and smiled up at Cedric. He opened his mouth, looking for all the world like he had something important to say — then he quacked.
Cedric was beginning to think that this assignment was a waste of time. There were so many other things that demanded attention, like missing Hit Wizards and loose dementors. Seeing to one addled Muggle seemed unnecessary.
Healer Highwater, even, looked rather bored as the tip of her wand lit with a gentle blue glow. But as she pressed the blue light against Chorley’s temple, the quacking stopped, and instead, Chorley lunged at her and wrapped his hands around her throat.
Thelborne leaped into action, wrapping his arms around Chorley and trying to pull the large man off the Healer. Cedric grabbed at Chorley’s fingers in an attempt to at least loosen Chorley’s grip around Healer Highwater’s neck, but Chorley was surprisingly strong. Cedric and Thelborne combined seemed to have no effect on the man who had been so easy to persuade only moments ago.
Highwater’s face began to turn blue and her eyes rolled into her head. Her wand fell from her fingers and clattered to the floor. In a desperate attempt, Cedric stepped back and shouted, “Protego!”
There was a white flash and a burst of energy. Chorley and Highwater were thrown apart. The air shimmered between them as Cedric maintained the shield to keep them apart. Thelborne, too, did his best to hold Chorley in place, though he seemed to have difficulty keeping Chorley from pushing against the barely visible shield.
“If I were to guess?” Highwater gasped. “Someone attempted an Unforgivable on him, and did a very poor job of it.” Her hands brushed at her collar, checking for breaks in the bone. “I’ll need assistance.”
Cedric and Thelborne spent the rest of the afternoon helping Highwater and the other Healers treat Chorley. He only managed to get his hands on two more Healers, and Cedric and Thelborne were there each time to save them.
It was nearly an hour before Healer Highwater assured them they had Chorley well in hand, and Cedric and Thelborne could return to the Ministry and make their report. There were enough Healers looking after Chorley to keep him restrained and sedated as necessary. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement ought to know someone was cursing people close to the Muggle Prime Minister.
Both young men nodded; Cedric wiped sweat from his brow and Thelborne from the back of his neck.
As they waited for the lift to take them back into the lobby, Cedric asked, “Which is worse? Quacking Muggles or giants?”
Thelborne considered. “Giants. At least with this guy, we can leave the Healers to Obliviate him and not worry about casualties.”
Cedric mulled over Thelborne’s answer as they stepped into the lift. Cedric would have said this was worse. Giants were already magical, part of their world. It was more terrifying to think that Voldemort could be cursing people within the Muggle government. It made him wonder how many forays Voldemort had made into the Ministry of Magic. Anyone could be Imperiused. Even Thelborne.
That thought wasn’t helpful, though, so Cedric shut it down and Apparated back to the Ministry with Thelborne.
The two immediately briefed Marcus Charmstone on the situation. The Chief Captain listened with a grave expression. When Thelborne had finished explaining, Charmstone shook his head.
“Grave news indeed,” Charmstone said in a low voice. “You’ll need to report this directly to the Minister for Magic.”
“We need to what?” Thelborne raised his eyebrows.
Cedric swallowed down his own protest. He wasn’t particularly fond of Fudge. Their last encounter had been in Dumbledore’s office while the Ministry had nearly expelled him and almost arrested Dumbledore. Fudge had stood behind Umbridge, gleefully swallowing every lie she spouted. Cedric flexed his right hand, where faint white lines marred his skin. They were no longer legible, but he would never forget the punishment Umbridge had inflicted on him just for speaking out about Voldemort’s return.
“I’d do it myself,” Charmstone said, “but I need to settle an argument between the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Both seem to think today’s giant attack falls under the other’s jurisdiction. I need to head down there and make sure they each do all their work.” Charmstone picked up a scroll, rolled so tightly that Cedric estimated it was at least three or four feet of parchment long.
“Right,” Thelborne said, “but can’t —”
As the Chief Captain stood, it was clear there was no room for argument. All three headed for the lift. Charmstone pushed the up button first, and it wasn’t long before the lift dinged.
The moment the golden gates closed behind Thelborne and Cedric and they were out of earshot of their commanding officer, Thelborne whispered, “Have you met Fudge before?”
“A couple times.”
“Is he as big an idiot as everyone says?”
“More or less.”
The lift dinged and the gilded gates slid open once more. At least the lift ride had been short; it was only one floor between Law Enforcement and the Minister for Magic’s office.
The two were met immediately by Percy Weasley, who seemed to have no recollection that the last time he’d seen Cedric Diggory was that very same evening the Ministry had failed to arrest Dumbledore.
His smile was wide, but nervous. His freckled face seemed unusually pale, and there were dark bags under his eyes, magnified by his glasses.
“Diggory,” he greeted, and shook Cedric's hand. “Er — Thelborne.”
Thelborne hesitated, no longer than Percy had, before shaking Percy's hand, and Percy winced.
When Thelborne let go, Percy laughed, but the tension between them did not relax. After an uncomfortable pause, he cleared his throat. “Er — this way. The Minister is expecting you.”
Cedric wasn’t sure why the Minister knew to expect them, unless a note had been sent before they’d even given their report to Charmstone. That meant this meeting was about more than just Herbert Chorley and the Muggle Prime Minister. Cedric wondered if Fudge was going to take away Cedric’s new position as Auror. He wanted to believe even Fudge wouldn’t be that petty, not in the wake of Voldemort’s public return, but his hope was weak. He couldn’t think of any other reason Fudge might be calling them to his office.
Cedric looked to Thelborne for an explanation, but if Thelborne had an answer, Cedric couldn’t read it in his face. There was nothing in Thelborne's face but exhaustion as he stared at Percy's back.
Percy Weasley led them down the hall, around what felt like the entire Ministry of Magic building before the hallway curved back in on itself, leading towards an office in the very center of the building.
The door was made of solid blue lapis lazuli, edged in gold runes, much like the shifting gold runes of the Atrium’s ceiling. Cedric blinked to be certain the runes weren’t moving, but these seemed to remain solid.
Percy knocked on the door twice, then pushed it open. “Minister — Cedric Diggory and Ma — Christian Thelborne have arrived, sir.”
A deep voice, that was definitely not Fudge, said, “Excellent. Come on in, gentlemen.”
Behind the warm, yellow wood desk of the Minister for Magic was seated a tall man with thick, dark, curled hair that stuck out from his head like a lion’s mane. His nose and mouth were both wide, and coupled with his intense gaze, he looked like a lion surveying the savannah for prey, not unlike the Auror secretary Cedric had met that morning.
“Rufus Scrimgeour?” Thelborne breathed.
Scrimgeour did not look up from the parchment he was scribbling on. “Yes. Thelborne, isn’t it?”
“Yessir.”
“I hear you were the one who brought in Herbert Chorley?”
Thelborne hesitated. “Diggory and I both did, sir.”
“Of course.” Still, Scrimgeour did not stop writing. “What is the verdict?”
“An Imperius Curse gone wrong, at least, that’s what Healer Highwater thinks.”
Scrimgeour’s quill paused its scratches for a moment. His lips worked their way around the name Highwater, but he didn’t speak it, not until he’d settled on the right witch. “Guinevere Highwater?”
“I believe so, sir.”
Scrimgeour returned his attention to the parchment. “Then she is probably right. Thank you, gentlemen, for your hard work today.” He signed the parchment with a hurried flourish, folded, and sealed it. He handed the letter to Percy Weasley, who hurried out of the room to see it delivered.
“Now,” Scrimgeour said, “I have important business to discuss with each of you and not a lot of time to discuss it. He glanced at a gilded clock face hanging over one of the many floating bookshelves mounted in the office. “I’m meant to be meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister just now, but I’ve sent Fudge on ahead to prepare him.”
Cedric blinked. “Fudge is still Minister, then?” He hadn’t meant to blurt out, but he’d been so relieved to see Scrimgeour behind the Minister’s desk, someone who knew how to face the Dark Arts, someone who seemed to have the situation so well in hand that it was horrifying to think Fudge was still Minister after all.
“No,” Scrimgeour said quickly. “I am replacing Fudge as the next Minister for Magic. He’ll only stay on in an advisory capacity. There are a lot of changes happening very quickly around here, and we’ll all need to adapt if we are to stay on our feet for this fight. Thelborne, you’re to take on the rank of Captain for your Hit Squadron.”
Thelborne blinked. “But sir — I’ve only been a Hit Wizard for two years. And Walsh —”
“Has been missing for a week now. He is either dead, dark, or on the run. In any event, he can no longer serve. I know your family has served well in the past. I expect you to excel in the position. And perhaps convince your sister to join as well.”
Thelborne’s face worked through a series of emotions — confusion, surprise, fear, anger, and finally acceptance. “I’ll do what I can, sir.”
“And Diggory, I believe you had your sights set on Aurorship.”
Cedric wondered for a moment why the Minister would know that, then remembered that Scrimgeour, as head of the Auror Department, would have had to approve his application in the first place. “Yessir, but Mr. Shacklebolt —”
“Has other duties, yes. We moved him to protect the Muggle Prime Minister, and it seems necessary to keep him there, given what happened with Chorley today.” Scrimgeour scribbled a note on a piece of parchment, signed and sealed it quickly. “Take this to Anne Scrimgeour, my niece. She’s still the secretary in the Auror office, yes? She’ll make sure Williamson takes you on. He’ll be an excellent mentor for you.”
Cedric frowned as he looked down at the sealed letter. He was not so quick to accept this personal attention from Scrimgeour as Thelborne had been. “May I ask why, sir? I’m happy to stay as a Hit Wizard for a few more years. It’s more traditional, isn’t it? And I did good work today, helping with the giants and the Muggle Junior Minister.”
Scrimgeour’s nostrils flared briefly. His eyes glittered like he had found the prey he’d been looking for. Clearly he was not used to having his orders questioned.
“It’s important to have you in the Auror office,” Scrimgeour said. “You have more experience fighting Death Eaters than many of the Hit Wizards do. You can learn more under Williamson in a week than serving in Thelborne’s Squadron in a month. You’re a valuable part of this fight. Take pride in that.”
Cedric didn’t like the way Scrimgeour said, ‘valuable,’ like he had a price tag attached to him. He wondered how many galleons it read, and if it was more than Thelborne’s. Or maybe the value wasn’t in galleons. It was hard to miss the Daily Prophet headlines about “The Chosen One.”
“Is this about Harry Potter, sir?”
Scrimgeour’s lips pressed into a tight line. “You’re a man of plain words. I can appreciate that. Your connection to Harry Potter, to his two most recent duels against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has not gone unnoticed by the Ministry, nor the public. I’ve just sent a letter to the Potter family requesting Harry’s assistance in this fight as well. Fudge assures me they will stubbornly refuse, but I will do my best to win this fight, and I cannot do it without help. Can I have your help, Mr. Diggory?” He extended the sealed parchment once more.
Cedric wondered what would happen to him if Harry refused, if his connection to Harry proved worthless to the Minister.
Reluctantly, Cedric took the parchment. “I’ll fight in whatever way I am needed.”
Scrimgeour smiled, but it was grim. “Spoken like a true soldier. Now, you both have your assignments, and I have a meeting.”
Cedric and Thelborne each shook Scrimgeour’s hand, and left the Minister’s office.
“Well,” Thelborne said and let out a slow breath, “you sure put your head in the lion’s mouth.”
Cedric shrugged and started down the long, winding hallway. “I don’t like being used or lied to. I just wanted to know why I mattered so much. What about you. What was all that about blood?”
Thelborne’s face twisted like he’d gotten a whiff of a Dungbomb. “My family name is pretty new. We can trace our lineage back just to the early 1800s, which is nothing compared to most of these families, especially not ones like Scrimgeour’s. But there’s a legend — more of a rumor I guess — that there’s elf-blood in our history.”
“Like… house-elf?”
Thelborne shrugged. “Supposedly my great-grandfather could do excellent wandless magic, and was an incredible duelist. Served in the war against Grindelwald, and died fighting Grindelwald, so I guess he wasn’t quite good enough, in the end.”
“Oh. Did he know Dumbledore?”
This time, Thelborne frowned. “Don’t know. Never asked. Anne might know. She cared more about our family history than I ever did. I just liked the dueling part.” He was quiet until they reached the lift, the kind of quiet that Cedric was afraid to interrupt with a question. It felt delicate, and fragile.
The lift bell broke the silence and the two stepped behind the golden gates. Thelborne leaned against the corner of the lift like he wanted to fall through it. Cedric wasn’t sure why Thelborne looked so upset suddenly, until Thelborne said, “Weasley and I were Gryffindor prefects together.”
Cedric blinked, surprised by the change in subject. He took in Thelborne’s weary posture and, though he was curious about the tension between Percy and Thelborne, decided that it wasn't worth pressing the point. “You don’t have to explain anything you don’t want to,” Cedric said. He had appreciated Thelborne not pressing him about his scars earlier and wanted Thelborne to have the same opportunity for silence.
The young man took a moment to consider Cedric’s words. The lift elevator arrived at their destination before he’d decided what to say. The golden gate slid open, but neither of them moved.
After another moment, Thelborne straightened. “Fine. Then I don’t want to explain.”
Cedric nodded, and gestured to let Thelborne out of the lift first. Thelborne headed for the Hit Wizard Department with a wave and a, “See you around. Thanks for the help.” Cedric took a deep breath before starting for the Auror Department. He didn’t know Williamson well, but he thought he remembered Tonks saying something about a duel with Voldemort that had turned Williamson’s hair white. Surely Williamson would be as good a mentor as Kingsley.
Cedric considered Thelborne’s strange confession about his connection to Percy. He struggled to recall all the Gryffindor prefects he had worked with and it took him a moment to realize there had not been a girl Prefect for Gryffindor in Christian and Percy's year. He hadn't thought it odd at the time, since Percy was Head Boy and so Christian was simply the seventh year prefect. But now that Cedric thought about it...
“Hey, Diggory!”
Cedric turned, surprised to see that Christian Thelborne had come back around the corner.
“Neither of us are anyone else’s pawns, right?”
Cedric smiled. It was equal parts full of relief and the warmth of true friendship. He may not know Thelborne well, and he may have a lot more to learn about this job, but today had been a really good start. Regardless of the new Minister of Magic’s plans for the fight against Voldemort, both Thelborne and Cedric had their own challenges to face, and at least now they would be a little less alone in facing them.