Missing Pieces ~ Part 3

[gfeather]

'Multiple cups of tea, particularly ones fortified with whiskey, are not good for sleeping through the night,' Angelina thought grumpily as she shuffled down the hallway to the toilet for the third time that night. She was loath to illuminate the way more than what dim light the moon cast through the window at the end of the hallway, because she didn't want to rouse herself any more than she had to. If she lit the wall sconces, or even just her wand, she knew it would take her ages to get back to sleep.

The bathroom door squeaked as she closed it behind her, making an inordinate amount of noise in the otherwise silent house. It seemed odd to her that such an old house didn't have many incidental noises at night, like most other homes did. Perhaps there were just generations worth of silencing spells on anything that might creak and groan at night.

Pausing for a moment in the still hallway before returning to her room, she did catch a noise that had nothing to do with normal house settling sounds. It sounded like a whimper.

Quietly, she padded across the corridor to Cedric's door. It had been such a soft noise; it could only have come from this room, as Harry's was at the far end of the hall. Pressing against the wooden frame she listened.

The whimper came again, along with the soft hush of restless movement on sheets. Tentatively, she opened the door.

Inside, Cedric was tossing around rather violently on the bed, pushing at some invisible foe. His whimpers came louder and he seemed lost in the grips of a horrible nightmare. Though she wasn't sure he would appreciate it, Angelina felt the need to wake him. He looked so distressed and whatever sleep he was getting didn't look restful in any way.

Avoiding the jerky movements of his arms, she came around the other side of the bed and gently shook his shoulder to wake him for the second time that day.

"Cedric, wake up. It's only a nightmare. Wake up," she urged gently.

Once again, his transition between sleep and wakefulness was nearly instant.

"Let go! Get away! Stop!" he shouted frantically.

"Shhh... Cedric, it's only me. You were having a nightmare."

"What?" He froze and looked around the room, taking in his surroundings.

"A nightmare. Whatever it was, it was only a nightmare. I heard you in the hall. It sounded pretty awful and I thought I should wake you."

"Oh..." he said, his ragged breathing slowly returning to normal, "A dream. I was dreaming."

"Do you remember it at all?" she asked gently, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

He scrunched up his face, intently trying to grasp at the fleeting memory. "I was somewhere cold... and wet... These things were grabbing at me and someone was laughing. I couldn't get them to let go."

"It was only a dream, Cedric."

He shook his head. "I don't know. It was very real, but I suppose most nightmares are. I hope you’re right."

"Are you going to be able to get back to sleep?" she asked.

He stared out the window into the weak light of the moon for a long time before nodding. "Yeah. Just a dream."

Cedric's body shivered and he seemed more like himself. He was no longer distant, and gave her a half-smile. "Thanks, Ange. Sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't. I was up anyway. Remind me never to have that much tea before bed again. I wouldn't have heard you if I hadn't been in the hallway already."

"Thanks again. Goodnight."

"I hope the rest of your sleep is better, Cedric. Goodnight."

***

The days that followed were a blur of half formed dreams punctuated with brief periods of wakefulness. Most of the time, Cedric was woken by Angelina bringing him small meals. Though he was beginning to feel better each time he woke, it seemed he was only able to stay awake for a half hour at a time. It was as if his body had somehow recognised he was safe and free to rest as it needed. His arrival and lengthy discussion with Harry and Angelina had reassured him that he would not be tossed out on his ear, or worse, imprisoned, for his unknown actions over the past three years, and he felt safe and secure in the small bedroom he now occupied. Though he scarcely left the bed, his sheets were always fresh and the warm duvet was nothing short of blissful, particularly when he awoke with the sensation of clammy hands and cold misty air clinging to his body. He felt certain the dreams were flashes and impressions of his missing time, but upon waking, holding onto details was like grasping at sand; the harder he tried to hold on, more disappeared through his fingers.

Most often he woke to find a visitor in his room and would receive short snippets of information regarding the past three years as well as what was being done to help him. Harry felt it was important to bring a few trusted individuals into the discussion about how Cedric had managed to live and how his return should be dealt with. He had met very briefly with Hermione Granger, who had spent more time bombarding him with questions than answering any he wanted to pose to her, but he could see a determined glint in her eyes and knew she would hunt for information to satisfy not only his desperate curiosity, but her own as well. The next time he woke after seeing Hermione, Angelina informed him that she had travelled back to Hogwarts to confer with Madam Pomfrey concerning the effects of prolonged Imperius exposure and consult the many medical references the mediwitch had at her disposal.

Though he had seen a few other people, most often it was Angelina who woke him and plied him with hot soups and provided him with company for the short time he managed to stay awake. He had apologised to her a few times for dropping off in the middle of conversations, but she always waved off his concern, telling him that in all likelihood he was recovering from prolonged malnutrition and poor condition, not just a few days of exhaustive apparition. Madam Pomfrey was still far too busy with her infirmary back at Hogwarts to come assess his condition herself, but had put him on a regimen of nutrient supplements and strengthening potions to aid in his recovery. It seemed the others around him were beginning to piece together more information, but it was slow going. Everything was chaotic in the world outside the ancestral Black home and it would take time. Time was something he seemed to have an abundance of lately.

Nearly two weeks passed before Cedric felt ambitious enough to go further than the trip from his bed to the bathroom across the hall. He dressed in a pair of new flannel pyjamas Harry had bought for him, along with a few other essentials. Pulling the old dressing gown on over the pyjamas, he tucked his feet into a pair of slippers and ventured into the hallway.

Even with the curtains thrown wide and full daylight streaming in, it was still dim in the old house. He shuffled down the hallway and stood at the top of the stairs for a full minute contemplating going down. He felt more awake than he had in days, but for a moment the staircase seemed like scaling the Matterhorn. There was no one about, however, and he felt the need to move about after so long in bed.

By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs to the main floor, Cedric’s legs were like overcooked spaghetti and his whole body shook from the effort. He shuffled unsteadily into the front parlour and collapsed heavily into the nearest chair. Catching his breath, he looked around, noticing again how elaborate everything in the house seemed. The furniture in the room was old, but freshly cleaned, the floor waxed and polished to a high shine with elaborate area rugs placed decoratively. The large windows facing out onto the street gleamed in the sunlight framed on either side by heavy velvet curtains that appeared to be new. The room looked like it had recently been polished to within an inch of its existence. It was the brightest room he had been in so far, with one of the few south facing windows. The view outside was nothing special, a rather dismal looking street with many run down houses with broken windows and peeling paint looming over the cracked and broken sidewalk, but the sunlight made all that irrelevant. He felt a bit like a cat soaking up a sunbeam, or perhaps a withered plant long bereft of vital light.

The soft sound of the front door clicking shut and cautious footsteps in the hallway drew his attention. Cedric glanced back at the doorway to see Angelina coming down the hall. She seemed surprised to see him out of bed, but smiled and greeted him. “Hey there, Cedric. It’s good to see you out of bed. You been down here long?”

He shook his head. “I just came down. I want to be up and doing something, but I barely made it this far.”

“You should start feeling more energetic soon. Madam Pomfrey said that depending on how badly depleted your body’s reserves were it could take three weeks to really start feeling yourself again. That you made it downstairs today is big progress,” she reassured him and sat down in the armchair beside his.

“I don’t suppose it matters much how long it takes. I doubt I’ll be leaving here for a while yet,” he said, more morosely than he had intended.

“Things are slowly getting straightened out. Yesterday Kingsley Shacklebolt had a big press conference at the Ministry and accepted the position of interim Minister for Magic. He officially ended the taboo on V-, You-Know-Who’s name, condemned bounty hunters, and encouraged those who were still in hiding to return home. There was a lot about destroying the Muggleborn Registry and things like that as well. I think there’s still a copy of the Prophet in the kitchen if you want to read it. Everyday it’s getting a little better,” she said with conviction.

“So you were out enjoying your first day of official freedom?” he asked, trying his best to give her a genuine smile.

She shook her head. "Actually, I went to see if there was any chance of getting into my father's old place again. The building doesn't seem to have been attacked, but it's deserted. There were several other tenants in that building, but everyone’s gone. Everybody seems to have packed up and left. Dad’s place is still the way I left it, so I don’t think anyone actually came hunting for us there, but I don’t know why everyone else left.”

“Was it a Muggle building?” Cedric asked.

“It’s a nice place,” Angelina said, nodding, “We had the top floor, so it was easy to hide magic from the neighbours, but we did keep the front room ‘Muggle friendly’ just in case a visitor dropped by.”

“There weren’t any repelling charms on your place?”

“Nothing that would keep Muggles from ever visiting. We didn’t have the neighbours over often, but there was a girl a year older than me a few floors down. We used to play together before I went to Hogwarts. Dad did mention something about a charm that would keep the building superintendant from coming around when we weren’t home... Oh dear. With no one there, perhaps the repelling charm ended up making everyone move out of the building.”

"Where did your parents go, Ange?"

"I don't know. Well, I know about my mother. She left Dad back when I was small; ran off with some quiddich player from South America to lead a life of adventure, or some rubbish like that. It's been me and Dad for as long as I can remember, but he disappeared back in November, and there's been no sign of him since. I was worried that it wasn't safe to stay there, so I found myself a flat closer to work, packed up what I could and didn't go back. At the time, I thought someone might have detained him for questioning or something, but now... I just don't know. I would have thought there would have been some word, especially if he was..." she trailed off.

Cedric reached across the space between them and squeezed her hand. “You’ll find him.”

“I was hoping, with Kingsley’s announcement and all the press attention that he might show up at home. I guess it’s too soon. I left a message for him there.”

"It's still so hard to believe things got that bad. I can't imagine what it was like to live through all of that."

"You do what you have to. We all did what we had to, just like we're doing now. It's probably been more confused and troubled these past couple weeks than it was before, because there wasn’t anyone actually in charge. Kingsley and some of the others in Dumbledore’s resistance group are trying to get order restored to the Ministry so people can get back to their lives, but everything is complicated."

"I must be in the way while there are so many more important things to take care of right now. I wish I could be of some help."

“You aren’t in the way, Cedric. Harry’s got something positive to focus on and I’ve got someone to talk to. Even Kreacher has someone to fuss over. Mr Weasley will be helping Kingsley do personnel checks on Ministry staff over the next couple weeks. He’s going to meet with your dad and figure out how best to bring you together now that you’re feeling better and don’t look so much like a battered inferi. You don’t need to help. It’s your turn for people to help you,” Angelina said placing a reassuring hand on his arm, “You’ve got enough on your plate just getting healthy again.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to do even that. Hermione left a scroll with some of her research for me, and the news isn’t good,” he told her with a frown.

“Your memories?”

He nodded and sighed heavilly. “There isn’t a great deal of medical research done on Imperius, given that it’s an Unforgivable and all, but records from the first war show that several people known to have spent prolonged periods under the curse have gaps in their memory. None were as big as mine, but long enough to be noteworthy. Some investigators thought it was convenient, you know, forget all the bad stuff you’ve done so you can claim innocence, but it was later confirmed by the healers. There wasn’t much follow up done, but what little there was indicates that I probably won’t regain much.”

“Have you dreamed again?” she asked. He usually woke easily when she brought him food and hadn’t shown any signs of having nightmares since his first night here.

“Yes, but I don’t remember. Usually I’m cold when I wake up but the details are gone quickly.”

She smiled sympathetically. “We know You-Know-Who controlled the dementors. That might also be interfering with your memory.”

Cedric shivered and rubbed his arms, trying to ward of the chill the very thought of dementors brought him.

“Part of me really doesn’t want to know. There can’t be anything good to it and wouldn’t I be better off just not knowing... but I’m angry too,” he said, his voice rising, “I’ve lost three years of my life and I want them back! Three years gone! All because Dad wanted me to enter that blasted tournament!”

The shivering that had begun at the mention of dementors quickly developed into full body shaking. Embarrassed by his outburst, Cedric pushed himself out of his chair and made for the stairs. Angelina said something to him as he left, but blood pounded through his ears and he had to leave. Adrenaline was all that allowed him to reach the top of the stairs and once he was back in his room, Cedric collapsed on the bed. Not since his disoriented flight through the forest had he allowed his emotions to overcome him completely. Pounding his trembling fist weakly into the pillows, he shouted muffled, angry words at the world until his energy was utterly spent.

***

Cedric’s sudden angry outburst had worried Angelina at the time, though she wasn’t particularly surprised to see the calm exterior he presented crack. Their first night at Grimmauld Place had been nothing short of overwhelming, for all concerned, but, in the days that had passed since, nothing she had told him seemed to make him particularly upset. He was appropriately concerned and curious, but this was the explosion she had expected to happen sooner or later. Though she hadn’t known him well at Hogwarts, Cedric was usually pleasant and mild mannered. Everyone had their limits, however.

She checked on him about an hour after he had disappeared into his room, and, as expected, found him sleeping on top of the covers, curled around a mashed-up pillow. Angelina returned downstairs to find Harry home and went with him down to the kitchen to get the day’s unedited news.

“How’s Shacklebolt holding up?” she asked.

“He’s being pulled in a dozen different directions, but has managed not to tell anyone to stick anything where the sun doesn’t shine yet. Department executive meetings were today and we’re pretty sure we’ve weeded out the highest placed of Voldemort’s supporters. It’s going to take months to reshuffle the Ministry into something that functions properly, but people should be able to start going back to their jobs by the end of the week, after their department heads give them a once over. It will still be a bit sparse there until urgent matters are taken care of. It’s not like anyone is worried about the thickness of cauldron bottoms at the moment,” Harry said with a chuckle.

Angelina gave him a puzzled look, “Cauldron bottoms?”

“It’s what Percy was working on his first few months at the Ministry. He took it a bit too seriously,” Harry explained.

“That does sound like Percy. Any word on Cedric’s parents yet?”

“No one has heard much from them since the Tournament. They never made any public statements on either side of things at the time, and from what Mr Weasley tells me, they’ve kept to themselves for the most part. The two families were never especially close, but the Diggory’s don’t call round the Burrow anymore. Mr Weasley has a meeting with the Magical Creatures department on Thursday. I’m not sure he likes his temporary promotion to support staff to the Minister for Magic much, but he’s doing a good job. I’ve asked him to find out what he can about how the Diggorys have been doing lately and hopefully help us arrange to meet. If Cedric’s up to it, we could probably take him home next weekend.”

Angelina chatted with Harry for a while longer over tea, catching up on what was happening in the wizarding world at large. For all Harry had planned to hide away at the house until things settled down, he was very busy lending his support to the interim governing officials and reassuring the public of their safety. His friends were also busy seeing to the rebuilding and reorganizing process; and the house was either teeming with people or empty save herself and Cedric. Sometimes it seemed everyone else was working on the important things, while all she wanted to do was find her father and get her job back. There hadn’t yet been any reply to the letter she sent to her employer, and her hopes of stepping back into her old life were fading fast.

Excusing herself before Harry could break into another tangent about the mess created by Umbridge, Angelina set her teacup in the sink and disappeared upstairs to get lost in a book for a while and not think about the rest of the world. She had heard enough about the damage done by that toad’s office that she was tempted to volunteer to help with the new Restoration Committee, but she knew that if she did, all she would be doing was hunting for her father’s name in the records. As she approached the first floor landing, she was reminded that there were other places where her help was needed, however insignificant that help may be in the grand scheme of things.

The sounds emanating from Cedric’s room were louder and more frantic than they had been at any time since his arrival. Jogging up the last few stairs, Angelina hurried down the hallway, and opened the door and pushed inside. Still lying on top of the covers, he was thrashing around the bed like a landed fish, calling out and pushing at something in the air. She entered the room quickly, closing the door behind her. She tossed a muffling charm at it before approaching the bed and attempting to wake the restless man .

The hand she extended to shake him awake was caught in a vice like grip instantly, and wide, blank eyes stared into hers. Cedric’s voice was panicked and desperate when he spoke, “There’s a little girl in there. She’s just a child!”

Angelina tried to pull her hand out of his painful grip for a brief, futile moment, and then pushed forward with her other arm, gripping his shoulder and giving him a firm shake. “Cedric, wake up. You’re dreaming, and you need to wake up.”

Frantic eyes looked at her a moment longer before they scrunched shut and the grip on her wrist loosened. When his eyes reopened, he still looked panicked, but his darting glances were taking in his surroundings. “There’s a girl in a body bind in a house on fire. It’s burning! The house is burning and she can’t get out!”

“What does she look like? Where is the house?”

“She’s small, maybe four. Pigtails and bunny slippers with twitchy noses. It smells awful and she’s screaming. Everything’s on fire!”

Crawling onto the bed beside him, Angelina pulled him against her and wrapped her arms around him. She squeezed him tightly and whispered in his ear, “It’s a nightmare, Cedric. Nothing is on fire and you’re here in bed. It’s just a dream.”

He shook his head against her chest. “No, it was real. The others killed her parents, and I bound her and set the house on fire. I killed her.”

His desperate whispers became choked sobs as his hot tears soaked into her shirt. She held him tightly as he wept, speaking softly over his crying. “It wasn’t you. He made you do it, but you didn’t want to. There was nothing you could have done. It wasn’t you. It’s over now...”

It was some time before Cedric calmed and was able to speak clearly again. He pulled away from her arms, and knuckled away his tears, retreating to the far edge of the bed. Swinging his legs over the edge, he sat hunched over, staring at the floor. “I take it back. I don’t want to know. I don’t want those three years back. I want to do them over, but I don’t want them back.”

Angelina crawled across the bed and knelt behind him, wrapping her arms firmly around him again. “I know. I want that for you, too.”

“I killed people. Innocent people,” he said softly, his voice cracking.

“Perhaps, but only because your body was being used as someone else’s tool,” she said softly but resolutely, squeezing him tight. “Your mind and your heart didn’t do it. You fought against it.”

“Not hard enough,” he said with bitterness.

Angelina traced her hands along his shoulders and down his chest and felt how thin his was. Two weeks of care and convalescence weren’t enough to make up for several years of purposeful neglect. Resting her head on his shoulder, she whispered, “But as hard as you were able. There was a reason he kept your body weak. It was so you couldn’t resist. So you couldn’t fight back.”

“Everything I remember... the little flashes of time...” he shook his head, breathing shakily, “what I’ve done is more than I can bear.”

She reached across and turned his cheek so she could see his face properly. “None of us is given more than we can bear. Often more than we deserve, but never more than we can bear. Friends are what help us carry the burden.”

Turning his head to look back at her, he said lowly, “I’m scared of myself.”

“I’m here and I’m not scared of you.”

Cedric turned fully into Angelina's embrace and buried his head in the crook of her neck, holding tight. She gently rubbed his back and brought her fingers up to play with the ends of his hair, hoping he found it soothing. There were no words for a long time as both were content to find comfort in holding and being held.

Cedric's firm grip slowly lessened and he placed a gentle kiss on her collarbone. It was completely innocent at first, but the soft press of lips moved up, along her neck, in a line of gentle touches that raised goose bumps along her spine. Seeming to suddenly become aware of his actions, he pulled back and the look he gave her held a thousand worries. Angelina brushed her thumb along his cheekbone and slid her hand around the back of his head to pull him closer. Intentionally missing her mark, she placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, making him smile.

He leaned in to capture her lips and hummed in satisfaction when she returned the kiss eagerly. Her fingers threaded through his hair and caressed the line of his shoulders, before sliding down his front and pulling at the buttons of his pyjamas. Pushing the open top off his shoulders, she urged him to remove it and pushed him down onto his back on the bed. The chest she revealed was still thin, but broad and the light dusting of hair on smooth skin was interrupted in places by lines of scar tissue, most of them old enough to be faded. Without his top, it looked like life had been cruel to him over the past years, even if the slightly haunted look in his eyes hadn’t already betrayed him.

Angelina kneeled astride him as her hands traced a path down his chest, followed shortly by her lips, feathering gentle kisses and tracing the lines of his scars with her tongue. He twitched and gasped beneath her, at turns panting and making inarticulate sounds of encouragement.

When she reached the waistband of his pyjamas, her downward exploration ended and she shook her hair loose, trailing the ends up his chest as she moved to capture his lips again. He whimpered when she broke contact and looked at her in confusion. Her hands urged him to sit up and she popped the top button of her shirt open before leaning back on one arm, watching him expectantly.

He reached forward to open the next button, but hesitated, as if unsure.

Angelina took his hand and brought it back to her button, whispering, "You're in control now."

Fingers trembling slightly, Cedric fumbled with the tiny buttons and slipped the shirt off her shoulders.

He was unsure of himself, but if this was going to happen, Angelina felt it was important that he was in control. Everything Cedric had remembered since waking in the forest, the flashes of memories he had of his past, had all been beyond his control. Even his mind was betraying him by not allowing him to remember, and he needed that control back. For herself, Angelina wanted to be able to let go for the first time in weeks. She was tired from being steady and stable both for him and for herself. She wanted someone else to be the rock she could cling to, even if it was just for a little while.

Broad hands caressed her skin reverently, sliding down her sides and tracing nervously around the outline of her bra. After a brief hesitation, his broad palm cupped her breast gently, exploring through the soft material. He toyed with the edge of the fabric, tugging it aside and drew the pad of his thumb across her nipple. She hummed with pleasure when this reaction caused him to focus his attention on the hardening bud, and gasped as his tongue drew a broad swipe across. She arched towards him, trying to pinch the clasp of her bra free with one hand without interrupting him, but was unsuccessful. His hand joined hers and after a few moments of fumbling, the clasp released and the offending garment was tossed away over the side of the bed.

With unimpeded access, Cedric explored her body with less trepidation and greater enthusiasm, eliciting a vocal reaction that made Angelina's cheeks warm as much from excitement as embarrassment. His reaction to her small whimpers and cries was definitely one of excitement. His body pressed along her side, the firmness of his erection rubbing against her thigh as he continued to stroke and fondle her breasts.

His caresses soon moved down across the smooth skin of her stomach, pausing for a moment to toy with her belly button before tracing the line of her denims. He slipped the button free, and rested his hand over top, as if reluctant to go any further. Her hand joined his and lowered her zipper before she arched her hips up to shimmy free. Pulling her knickers down with them, Angelina kicked her denims over the side of the bed in the same direction her bra had gone.

The brush of his fingers against her sensitive skin and through the wiry hair covering her mound made her squirm. The sensation was too light, too hesitant, too tantalizing, and she wanted more. Hooking his leg with her heel, she pulled him on top of her, pressing up against him. He groaned when her hands slipped easily below the elastic waist of his pyjama bottoms and growled as they struggled to remove them without breaking apart.

When he managed to free his legs of the tangled flannel, Cedric stretched out on top of her fully, cupping her face with his hands and kissing Angelina with such tenderness, she thought she might cry. His eyes searched hers, looking once more for her to tell him to stop.

She brushed a lock of hair that had fallen d into his face aside and canted her hips forward by way of reply to his unspoken question. Shifting above her, he positioned his throbbing cock at her entrance and pushed inside, eyes closing and breath stopping short as they came together fully.

Angelina felt deliciously filled and painfully empty each time Cedric thrust deeply into her only to pull away again. His body pressed her firmly down on the mattress and she wrapped her legs around his hips to urge him on. The cautious tenderness gave way to a desperate striving for completion as his body thrust faster and she clung to him trying to keep up to his pace. A nearly feral growl tore from his throat and Angelina shook and whined as her climax overtook her. His back arched and he thrust into her a final time before spending himself completely inside of her.

Slowly coming down of the exquisite high of her climax, Angelina ran her fingers through the tumbled mess of sandy brown hair tickling her breasts where his head lay pillowed. Cedric's breathing was slow and regular and his body completely limp draped over her. She smiled fondly at him and shifted to retrieve her wand from the bedside table. With a bit of shifting, she was able to free the sheets and draw them over their rapidly cooling bodies. The film of sweat covering her body and the stickiness between her legs was slightly unpleasant, but she was too content to move. Making love with Cedric was something she had never considered before, particularly given his current situation, but now that they had it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

Angelina slowly drifted off to the sound of deep breathing feeling pleasantly tired and content.

***

Cedric came awake slowly to the sensation of delicate fingers tracing patterns on his chest. Opening his eyes, he was greeted by Angelina's soft smile and a kiss.

"Good morning," he said, returning her smile, but feeling a blush creep across his face at the realization that they were still naked and sticky from the previous evening's activities.

"Good morning. Sleep well?" she asked.

He nodded. "Very well. Yourself?"

She stretched languidly beside him. "Wonderful. What would you say to a trip outside of the house today? Feeling up to it?"

Cedric frowned. "Where? I barely made it downstairs yesterday. I always feel fine when I wake up, but I get tired so quickly."

"It wouldn't matter if you got tired and needed a rest," she told him. "I want to go back home today and see if I can get it fixed up a bit. I don't much care for the idea of going alone again, though."

"I haven't tried using my wand since I got here and the thought of apparating makes me queasy."

"It's not far and I can side-along you. If you don't want to, that's alright, but I'm rather tired of these four walls, and I expect you are, too. There's a great view from the living room window and I can assure you the chesterfield is very comfortable to sleep on, if you need to."

"Alright, but I think I'll need a shower before going anywhere," he noted.

Angelina grinned broadly at him. "Me too."

Within less than an hour, Cedric and Angelina were showered, dressed and downstairs in the kitchen to eat breakfast. Harry was either still sleeping or already gone for the day, but Kreacher was more than agreeable to making more breakfast than either could handle. Cedric was happy he could eat regular food without feeling nauseous, but the single sausage he had eaten didn't feel particularly good either. He stuck with toast and marmalade for the rest of breakfast and made sure to drink all of his tea laced with fortifying potions.

Stepping outside the front door into the morning sunlight made him squint, but Cedric had to admit Angelina was right. It was good to be out of the house, even if he only made it to the front step. The whole world lay open to him and all he had to do was step forward. Though it was daunting, a great feeling of hopefulness filled him. Lacing her fingers with his, Angelina guided him down the sidewalk to a dingy alley with overflowing rubbing bins. Holding him firmly, she apparated them behind a cluster of thick shrubs in a good sized park. Stepping out from behind the concealment of the greenery, she pointed to the top of a building overlooking the green space.

"The top floor of that building is where I grew up. I know it looks abandoned now, but it was really quite nice."

"I'm sure once you get the charms and everything sorted out, people will move back again. It does look nice, even if it is boarded up."

Cedric's notions of freedom and opportunity had dimmed somewhat by the time he reached the top of the eighth flight of stairs. His knees were trembling and he was panting from the exertion. Clearly he had a ways to go before he could enjoy much in the way of freedom. Angelina gave him an apologetic look before drawing her wand and tapping the door in a complicated pattern. After a few moments, the handle glowed emerald green before fading and clicking open. "Come in and have a seat. I didn't want to risk apparating onto the roof, and the electricity to the building is shut off since all the Muggles are gone, so the lift isn't working. I've no idea where to even begin adapting it to work without."

"You know more about it that I do. I haven't the first clue what electricity is," he admitted, toeing off his shoes and sitting down heavily on the dark blue chesterfield.

The carpet beneath his feet was tan, with a thick pile that felt good under his toes. The walls, however, were stark and white, without pictures or personal effects of any kind. Actually, the whole room looked like that. The bookshelf on the wall by the fireplace was empty, as was the mantle. There was an old newspaper on the coffee table and an empty mug, but that was all. Cedric understood why Angelina hadn’t wanted to come here alone. Without personal items, it was just a dusty, empty shell of a house, not a home.

"I don't know much either, but it's what Muggles use to make things work instead of magic. I have no idea how it works, but it has something to do with all the switches in the rooms. Dad didn’t make too many modifications when we moved in here," she explained, her eyes following his around the room, to the blank walls and the bare mantel, and added, “I would have brought some of our personal things back, but I figured I might as well give it a good clean before I do. I would have started yesterday, but I find it a bit... spooky being here alone with it so empty. Almost like it’s not my home and I shouldn’t be here.”

"I don’t mind coming with you, Ange. I’m sick of laying about resting, even if it’s all I seem to have energy for. I might not be good for much, but I can keep you company,” Cedric said with a smile and stood to join her in front of the large window looking out over the park. “You were right. There is a great view. It's too bad you can't take a broomstick out in that park."

Angelina nodded. "Before I started Hogwarts, Dad used to take me out of the city once a month to practice flying where there weren't any Muggles. I got a broom for my seventh birthday, and tried flying it in the house before he could stop me. I broke through the window in less than ten seconds and spent the afternoon at St Mungo's getting patched up. After that, he set aside flying time for us so long as I promised never to try flying in the house again."

"Your dad sounds like a lot of fun."

"He is... was... I don't know. I just want to know what's happened to him. I can deal with whatever it is, but the not knowing is terrible. I suppose you'd know all about that," she observed, picking up her wand and casting a series of cleaning charms at the dusty furniture in the living room and coughing as it billowed and swirled around in the air before she managed to get a window open to let it escape.

Cedric stayed by the window while she busied herself with cleaning the room, doing his best to stay out of her way. Seeing himself reflected in the glass, he nodded and spoke to himself, "Yeah, I'm something of an expert these days."

By the time Angelina had finished with the first room, Cedric was already feeling tired and settled down on the chesterfield. Even though they chatted amiably enough, the quiet of the house pressed in on them, almost muffling their voices. Angelina found a wireless and turned it on in an attempt to drive out the quiet. He listened to the WWN while she went from room to room taking care of the mess she had left in her hurried departure and the six months worth of dust that covered everything. He heard her mention in passing that it wasn't as bad as she had thought it might be, but she was taking her time in each room setting things to rights.

The chatter on the WWN was pleasant enough to listen to for a while, but after an hour and a half, he found the voices grating on his nerves. He was getting caught up on all he had missed, but there was only so much babble about war heroes and the new administration at the Ministry he could listen to. Despite the massive gaps in his memory, the idea of getting on with his life had germinated and was growing quickly in his mind. He was getting used to the idea that there would always be a large amount of time unaccounted for, and it wasn’t as frightening to him anymore.

It had been a while since Angelina had come through the room, so he turned off the wireless and went to see where she was. The living space consisted of the entire upper story of the building, and walking through the freshly tidied rooms he could feel how empty the house was. There were bare shelves here and there where Angelina had obviously removed important keepsakes and photos. Most of the household was still there: a small table and two chairs in the kitchen, a larger, more elaborate dining table in the other room, a hutch for dishes, side tables and lamps, but the personal things were missing. Down the hall there were doors to three bedrooms and a large bathroom. The doors were open, save the purple one at the end of the hallway. Guessing that was where Angelina was, Cedric approached quietly and knocked softly on the door.

When there was no response, he opened it a crack. Angelina was laying flat on her back on top of a duvet covered with pink and purple flowers, staring up at the ceiling. Opening the door further, he asked, "Can I come in?"

She looked up at him and nodded, sitting up against the headboard when he joined her.

"You alright?" he asked with concern.

"Not really,” she said, shaking her head, “but I could be worse. Even though I took most of my stuff with me, this is the only room that doesn't feel empty. The whole place feels empty."

"It'll be better when you bring the personal stuff back."

"Perhaps. What will I do if I never find out?"

He shrugged, "The same as anyone, keep living. It's all you can do."

"Harry's hoping he can arrange to meet with your parents this weekend,” she said, changing topics abruptly, “so you can go home."

"As much as I want to see them again, I have to admit to being nervous,” he told her with a sideways glance. “I worry about what they’re going to say when they find out all that’s happened”

Her fingers threaded through his and squeezed. "They'll be thrilled to have you back. Shocked, and upset by some things, but thrilled."

“I hope so, Ange. I hope the reality will be as good as my imagination has made it.”

“Well if it all goes down in flames, you can always stay with me here,” she said light-heartedly, but there was an edge to her voice that betrayed her joke.

Cedric let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Jest or not, he felt the sudden urge to tell her he’d rather move in with her anyway, but restrained himself. One night wasn’t exactly the best foundation for moving in together, regardless of how appealing it might seem over the uncertainty of going home.

“I’ll keep your offer under consideration,” he said, trying to keep his tone teasing as well, but he was certain he failed.

Angelina shifted in his arms and straddled his hips to draw him into a deep kiss. Eagerly returning the embrace, he gave up on talking and let himself feel.

***

Cedric had never felt more uncomfortable sitting at his mother’s kitchen table than he did right now, which was impressive, given that she wasn’t even there. As Angelina had predicted, Amos was thrilled to discover his son was alive, and once the disbelief had worn off, Cedric had been trapped in a bone crushing hug that stole his breath from him. There had been tears and lengthy explanations and laughter and more tears and more hugging, but it had all come to an abrupt end when he had asked about his mother.

Silence. Total silence.

The smile on his father’s face disappeared in a heartbeat and he sat down heavily on the kitchen chair, hunching over his teacup. For several minutes, no one spoke, so Cedric asked again, “Where’s Mother? Mr Weasley said that you were both alright.”

“Alright is a bit generous, I think, Cedric. I don’t think how Lydia is could be called alright,” Amos said, his voice defeated.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Cedric asked, feeling a flutter of panic deep in his stomach.

“When you... When the Tournament was over and we came home from Hogwarts, your mother asked me to pack up your things and get rid of them. She wanted to take apart your room so it wasn’t there to remind us all the time. I wasn’t ready to, but she asked several times, so I did. I put all your things in boxes and took down the posters on the walls. She wanted me to get rid of everything, but I wouldn’t, so I sealed up your door so it looked like it was part of the wall and that seemed to be enough for her. Then, a couple weeks later your owl shows up in the kitchen. She got very angry. I thought she might hurt it, so I sent it back to Hogwarts with a note to the headmaster saying that it was a donation to the school owls. After that, Lydia seemed to be doing well. I was a wreck, but she went back to work, got on with her life. When I did go back to work, a couple people asked me when your memorial service was going to be, and... Well I hadn’t even thought about it, what with everything that happened, so I asked her when I came home and she looked at me... just a blank look and asked me who it was that I intended to have a memorial service for. It won’t be easy for you to hear, son, but since then she’s denied you ever existed,” Amos said, choking on his last words and breaking down into tears.

Cedric watched his father break down, utterly stunned. Harry was sitting across the table from him, wearing an identical dumbfounded expression. For several minutes, all he could do was stare out the window past Harry’s shoulder at the gnarled old willow tree in the front yard. The twining branches had always been a great place to climb into and hide away. Whenever he did something he thought might get him in trouble when he was small, Cedric would climb in there and hope no one would find him. Which was why, of course, it was the first place his mum would look for him. Standing at the bottom of the tree with her hands on her hips and a frown on her lips, she would wait for him to come down and own up to what he had done. Not anymore though. He hadn’t come down fast enough. He didn’t exist to her anymore.

When his attention was drawn back to the table, Cedric realized his father and Harry must have been trying to get his attention for a while. He shook himself free of his memories and turned to his father. “Sorry Dad. What did you say?”

Amos sighed heavily. “I was saying that because of how your mother is, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you stay here. I want you to, so much it hurts, but I don’t think it would go well for any of us. Harry says you can continue to stay with him, and I’ll come visit you after work every day. We’ll figure something out and then you can come back home. “

“Dad, it’s alright,” Cedric said, feeling a wave of calm wash over him. “You don’t need to upset her just for me to live here again. I’ll stay with Harry a while longer and get myself sorted. I need to figure out what I want to do with my life, now that I’m not dead. With three missing years... well it wouldn’t have been easy for me to come back here either. I’m almost twenty, but I haven’t finished my last year of school. My friends all have jobs, and live on their own now. It’s going to be hard enough getting back on track. Don’t upset her with this. We’ll work something out in time. Don’t beat yourself up about it either. It’s not like I’m the only one trying to find a new life for myself these days. I’m in good company.”

Pushing his chair back, Cedric checked the clock and brought his cup back to the sink. His father shook his head and gestured for him to sit down again. “You don’t need to go yet, Cedric. I’m not making you leave.”

“It’s nearly half two. Unless her habits have changed a great deal, Mum will be home from her shopping soon,” he reminded his father, pointing at the clock.

“I guess. I’ll open up the room so you can get your things then,” Amos said heavily.

“We’ll have dinner on Tuesday. It’s only a few days from now,” Cedric reassured his father.

Though his eyes were wet, Amos smiled. “I’m supposed to be the one comforting you, son.”

“You don’t need to, Dad,” Cedric said softly.

Once the room was opened and the boxes moved onto the front step, Cedric stepped into a final bone crushing hug and looked around at his childhood home over his father’s shoulder. With a pat on his father’s back, Cedric stepped back, picked up his things and apparated back to the alley near Grimmauld Place.

Harry lead the way down the Muggle street, Cedric’s full trunk, with two additional boxes piled on top hefted between them. Once they were inside the imposing house, Cedric was able to levitate his things up the stairs and into the room he had spent so much time in.

Almost a month had passed since he had woken up in the Forbidden Forest with a Dark Mark and no memory, but it had only been in the last few days that he had begun to feel ready to face the world again. He still tired easily, had no means of support, massive gaps in his memory, no home and was technically dead as far as the wizarding world was concerned, but somehow he felt the weight on his shoulders had lessened. There were plenty of people in as bad, if not worse, a position as he, but now was the time for moving on and he wouldn’t be doing it alone.

Cedric was busy sorting through boxes of half forgotten possessions and clothes he wasn’t sure would fit him anymore when Angelina knocked on the doorframe. “Hey there, how’d it go?”

He looked up at her and a smile split his face. “Down in flames.”

Her face dropped. “What?”

“Mum’s not been herself since I died. She’s convinced herself I never existed,” he said simply.

Angelina hurried across the room and knelt beside him on the floor in front of the boxes. “Are you alright?”

“No,” he said lightly, “but I will be. You were right. Dad was thrilled to see me, once he picked his jaw up off the floor, and he’ll be coming by to visit more often than I want him to, most likely.”

“So what now?” she asked, still looking puzzled at his light tone while delivering news that should have been devastating.

“Do you know what I wanted most when I woke up in the forest? Why I apparated the length of the island, nearly killing myself in the process?” he asked, turning to look at her better.

“I can’t imagine,” she said honestly.

“I wanted someone to hold me and tell me everything was going to be alright. I thought I wanted that from my mum, but I didn’t really. She was never very good a holding and comforting, especially once I was older than about six,” he said.

Angelina reached out a hand to pull him to her, but Cedric stopped her. “When Dad told me about Mum, I was shocked, but I didn’t feel as badly about it as I thought I would. What I did want was to come back here and have you tell me that everything would work out. If it’s still on the table, I think I’ll take you up on your offer.”

Pulling him into a tight embrace, she whispered, “Of course it is, Cedric. Everything will work out.”

“Everything will work out,” he whispered back.

***

December 5th, 1998.

Angelina had just finished folding and putting away the last of the laundry when she heard the front door open. Glancing at the clock, she noted that he was late and called out to him, “I hope you’re in the mood for curry, Ced. Meena Kumar invited us over for supper. I hope that’s alright.”

Six months ago, she and Cedric had left Grimmauld place to live in the abandoned building of her childhood, but it hadn’t taken too long before others moved into the homes on the floors below them. They never did find the original owner of the building, but after hiring a new, Muggle, superintendant, the building had started to come to life again. She still felt guilty for assuming ownership, but leasing out the rest of the building had allowed them to take their time getting back to normal.

Cedric’s reintroduction to the wizarding world had not been smooth. There had been some nasty press about both him and Harry in the Daily Prophet and Cedric’s first few trips to wizarding areas had drawn crowds of gawkers. They had received countless owls imploring him for the secret to bringing back loved ones, not to mention the angry post chastising him for being an evil practitioner of the Dark Arts. All around it was really rather ridiculous, but no one loves a sensational story like the press. When Cedric showed neither sign of having developed unnatural abilities, nor any intention of taking over the Ministry, the furore eventually died down. He had been working quite happily for the War Reparations Committee for several months now. It wasn’t a position that would exist forever, but he seemed content to take the work as something temporary before having to decide on a more permanent career. There were still many unresolved issues in his life yet, his family being the least resolved of them, but Cedric doggedly moved forward. He wouldn’t allow the past to hold him back, which was something she admired.

It had taken Angelina, herself, four months to get another job working as a broomstick engineer. The Comet Trading Company hadn’t been interested in hiring her back, but in the end Cleansweep Broom Company were more than happy to hire her on once production started again, eager for her inside information on their biggest competition, even if it was months old. Once she got back into creating new designs and modifying existing models, she found her work more satisfying than before, perhaps because it didn’t consume her life as it had when her father went missing. The pain of his absence still overcame her on occasion, but most often it was only a niggling ache when she saw something that reminded her of him. Cedric had always been the social kind, and he made an effort to get to know people, at work, in the building, at the park, dragging her, sometimes reluctantly, along with him. She couldn’t complain, though. He was also responsible for rebuilding connections with friends of hers she had lost touch with because of the war. Though the past six months hadn’t been easy for either of them, they’d had their fair share of quarrels, she couldn’t imagine going through it alone.

Placing the last shirt in the drawer, Angelina closed it and stepped out into the hallway. “Cedric? Did you hear me?”

Cedric’s smooth, measured voice called back. “Yeah, but I think you might want to cancel.”

“Oh? What’s come-” she froze in the doorway of the living room, shocked by what she saw. “Dad?”

Standing in the living room, looking tired and a bit rough around the edges, was her father. He smiled widely back at her. “Angel.”

She launched herself at him and was caught up in a hug that spun her off the floor. When he set her back down, he held her at arm’s length and looked her up and down. “You look good, Angel. He must be taking good care of you.”

Angelina turned her head sharply to see Cedric standing awkwardly at the door, heat rising in his cheeks. She shook her head. “You said you weren’t...”

“No, I said I wouldn’t spend all my time searching. I never said I wasn’t looking,” Cedric clarified.

Pulling away from her dad, Angelina crossed the room and kissed Cedric thoroughly. As his arms wrapped around her, she couldn’t imagine feeling happier.

After a long embrace that did nothing to express the full extent of Angelina’s appreciation for what Cedric had done, but given him a good taste of it, she heard the sound of her father’s throat clearing. Flushing with embarrassment, they broke apart and she turned to look at her father again, scarcely believing he was really there.

“I missed you so much, Dad. So much,” Angelina said with tears in her eyes.

Ray Johnson’s eyes were wet as well, though he blinked trying to hold back the tears. “I missed you too, Angel.”

“What happened? Where were you?” she asked quietly.

“Well Angel, it’s a long story...”

***