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Cedric wakes to the sound of his father’s booming voice downstairs. He can’t make out what he’s saying, but can only imagine it’s some new line of gossip or talking to the radio. He rolls over, pulling the pillow over his head and holding it against his ear. Five more minutes, that’s all he wants.
His mother calls for him too soon, but he gets out of bed without a grumble. He dresses, uses the bathroom, brushes his teeth, and brushes his hair before he goes down for breakfast, where a plate is immediately set down for him by the house-elf. “Thanks,” he murmurs, and she beams, she’s so happy, and vanishes to do the rest of the morning chores.
“I don’t see why you bother showing gratitude to that thing,” Laurel Diggory sniffs, shaking her head as she sips her coffee. Her husband sits across from her, reading the paper, though the radio is still on, blaring on about some dispute in Hogsmeade over night.
Truthfully, Cedric doesn’t know why he does either - Dad treats Rizzie well enough, but he still looks down on her. He isn’t sure Mum really cares about anything asides him. Even including Dad.
“It feels right to,” he reasons, cutting up his fried egg. “What are we doing today?”
Mum always has a plan for the day. “I want you to pack your trunk. You’ll be back on the Hogwarts Express in a few days, and you have to be prepared.” It’s never start doing anything - he knows the Weasleys start packing a few days in advance, but they aren’t expected to do it within a day. He doesn’t have that luxury. “Then you best go over to the Burrow and get some quidditch practice in.”
“I don’t think they usually try-out second years nowadays, Mum,” he mumbles, but she doesn’t appear to hear.
“After that, you’ll go to the Swannages for dinner. Make sure you take your chess set. Or your gobstones - or both,” she says thoughtfully, looking towards Dad. “What do you think, Amos?”
Dad blinks, as though surprised she even wants his input. “Both,” he agrees easily. “With how quick Ced wins, they’ll have time for both easily!”
“Hm. Maybe he shouldn’t go to the Swannages after all. Malcolm might be a little too… beginner at this. We need somebody with a little more expertise.”
Cedric tries to speak up. “The Weasleys play chess and gobstones too.”
“What about the Toddingtons?” Mum considers.
Dad nods. “There’s an older sibling. Might be best.”
It’s as if he’s not even there.
They continue debating the plans for the day while he eats. As soon as he’s finished, he’s sent off to his room to pack, and he does so without complaint. Better to avoid an argument, or the guilt. Cedric stays up in his room for hours, spilling out drawers and dutifully arranging all he needs for school. He manages to get it all done before his Dad fetches him for lunch.
He wolfs down a sandwich while Dad prattles on about Ministry business, giving the odd nod to show he’s listening. Because he is - it just goes out of his head as soon as Dad pauses to breathe.
The Weasleys distract him plenty, pulling him into their not-always-disciplined quidditch match; Charlie teaches him some more tricks about being a seeker; the twins laugh over some of their hijinks in the past week; Bill and Percy are mostly absent but Ginny and Ron flock around him asking about Hogwarts.
But all too soon it’s time to go.
Mum picks him up, apparating with him to the Swannages after all. She has his chess set and his gobstones, and he plays with Malcolm in the hour before dinner. The meal is a break, one he’s grateful for, before they’re back at playing. He enjoys it, mostly, and he plays gentle. Malcolm doesn’t get the chance to play as often as he does, and he feels bad every time he wins.
And then Dad picks him up.
“Well?” Mum demands as he settles on the sofa beside her.
“We played a lot. I tried out the new manoeuvre Dad suggested in chess, and we played Snake Pit after dinner,” he reports.
“Snake Pit is for children.” She sniffs. “You should have tried Jack Stone.”
Cedric nods in agreement. Better to avoid an argument.
“You’ll join the championships this year, won’t you? As soon as you’re at school. Talk to McGonagall, I expect she’s still involved in them.”
“Yes, Mum.” He doesn’t try to point out most competitors will be in their sixth or seventh years. They won’t take kindly to a second-year beating them. “I’ll go to quidditch try-outs too.”
“No, you’ll get on the team too.” Her correction is nowhere as soft as Dad’s would be. “They need a Seeker, you know. And you best show Charlie Weasley you don’t need any of his tips now.”
He likes Charlie, and doesn’t think he’ll ever be a better player than him, but he nods. “I’ll try.” She doesn’t correct that, at least, before she goes up to bed.
Dad sits down next to him. “How are you feeling, champ?”
Debating how honest he should be, Cedric decides to be fair. “Scared of letting Mum down.”
“Oh, don’t mind her! She just wants the best for you. You know that.”
“What if I don’t win anything?” It’s been plaguing his mind all day. There’s only so far he can get with skill. Luck comes down to it as well, and he’s not sure he can manage to keep it up all the time.
Dad chuckles. “You’re a Diggory, boy. You’ll win at something. I did.”
That much he’s never said before. “What did you win at?”
“Having a brilliant son like you.” Dad smiles warmly, pulling him into a hug. “She loves you, Ced. More than anything. Maybe she might push you a bit hard sometimes, but it’s only to make sure you do your best.”
Heading up to bed, Cedric clambers in and tugs the blankets over himself, turning onto his side. He doesn’t feel any better, not really, but at least he’ll be free once he’s at school.