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Chapter 360: White Pawn

If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr

I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

I would like to thank my beta, Awdyr, for his help in this chapter.

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12 April 1995, Olympus Academy, Greece

Cedric Diggory wished that he'd never volunteered to be part of his school's delegation. It was probably one of the worst mistakes he had ever made in his life, and he'd had his share of bad dates and insane girlfriends. The tournament was supposed to be about him showing the world what he could do. He was probably the best student in Hogwarts, bar that freak of nature Potter, of course. Not that it mattered now, the guy was probably dead, killed off by You-Know-Who when he returned. It was a smart thing, too. Potter was a threat. Dumbledore had seen it and had ended up falling from grace.

Hogwarts had even won the first three tasks, something that baffled most of Europe. He wasn't under the delusion that people expected their school to win. In fact, it was the complete opposite, they wanted to see it officially fall from grace. His father had told him that the ICW wanted to demoralize the country, make them feel lesser and more grateful for their interference and for them 'saving' the country. It was the only reason they even allowed Hogwarts to compete in the tournament, even with the political and economic unrest there.

All in all, it was supposed to be a slam dunk, except that Potter happened. The first two tasks were won because of him, and the third was obviously a ploy from You-Know-Who to capture Longbottom. This, of course, was followed by a civil war in Britain. His father's letters didn't paint a pretty picture. It was a warzone between dementors and Lycans, some kind of enhanced werewolves. It was a war between You-Know-Who and the Red Witch, some mysterious figure that was said to have fought the Dark Lord to a standstill.

Cedric was thankful that he remained in the delegation and not stuck in Hogwarts with the rest of the students, hoping the weather the storm. He would have liked it if his parents had come with him, but the minister made a decree stopping any wizard from leaving the country without permission, which also happened to be enforced by the ICW.

He had tried to distract himself with the tournament, try not to think of the danger his parents could live through, without even being able to rely on Hogwarts' wards. Only things have been going even worse for him during the tournament. He expected that with both Longbottom and Potter out of the picture, he could have started to rise as Hogwarts' true champion, that he could finally show the world what he could do, and that it was the start of his story. It was that hope that made him wake up every morning, unafraid for his dad and his mum.

It was a good distraction, but it did not help in any way. His luck during his tasks was horrible. He ended up being matched with Delacour early on and ended up losing early. Veelas really shouldn't have been allowed to compete. It was completely unfair that they were able to fling fireballs without a wand. He had forgotten that and she pretended to be disarmed before taking him out. It wasn't that much of a big deal since the girl ended up winning the entire tournament, except that Fred and George Weasley of all people ended up doing very well.

They were strangely efficient with some very weird combination of prank spells that just worked. The crowd definitely loved them, as they shamelessly promoted their idiotic prank shop, they were trying to open back him. They were able to start it with the gold they won in Hogwarts' local tournament the previous year, and they also won a fair bit of gold for being in the final ten competitors in this task.

They were pretty set, financially at least, and couldn't have been happier for it. Well, at least they were away from their mother who had apparently tried to get them to spend their gold wisely in the previous summer. Then again, the Weasleys did waste a large portion of their lottery money the year before on a trip to Egypt to visit their eldest. It was a nice thing to do, but not when their budget was that miserable.

To be completely honest, Cedric never really liked them. They were too chaotic for his taste and never took anything seriously, but he wished them the best. With the state of the economy in Britain, very few people could afford to buy joke items, and the war didn't even help them.

Still, things hadn't gotten really bad until the fifth task. It was a miserable experience all around. For one, David Abbott, a Hufflepuff a year lower than him, asked to compete in the chariot race, having said that he took the enchanting elective in school. Of course, what that meant was that they took a couple of classes before going with the tournament and hadn't bothered to learn anything more. He probably should have asked the Weasley Twins to participate but he felt just a bit jealous of the attention they got with their performance in the previous task. It was petty, but Cedric didn't need to be perfect all the time. Hogwarts didn't obviously score well as they had fewer duellers than the rest of the schools – with half of the delegation being gone.

Unfortunately, he didn't know that at the time and picked the rest of the team to be able to fight other students in the air. It was probably a mistake, but he chose people who specialized in Charm work to pick up the slack in case something went wrong with the enchantments mid-air. It was a solid plan, only for David Abbott to not be able to enchant shit, and them needing to take turns levitating the stupid thing. They ended up being so far last that they were mocked publicly by the crowds. Even his father started to send him fewer letters, each one having less information than the ones before.

McGonagall had lost all faith in him with that stunt, and Cedric had hoped to try to regain some of it by doing a good job of representing Hogwarts in the sixth task. There were only ten of them left, after all. There was him, Roger Davies, Lucien Bole, Angelina Johnson, Beatrice Haywood, the Weasley twins, David Abbott, Patricia Stimpson, and Kenneth Towler.

He expected the headmistress to still pick him, since he was still one of the best students she had in her school, even if he disappointed her many times. The Weasley twins were a given if they accepted that is, plus maybe Bole, Davies or himself. It depended on how many champions there were in the task anyway.

Of course, that opportunity was snatched by the children, Greengrass and Carmichael, who decided out of the blue to compete. He didn't know why they weren't under Hogwarts' wards, or why they even cared enough to come while there was a war on their doorstep. He didn't know much about them, but they had to have parents and siblings, right?

Anyway, with the task being announced as a quest for immortality, of all things, and there only four champions per school, he wasn't exactly optimistic about his chances. He imagined McGonagall would choose the Weasley twins, Greengrass, and Carmichael as champions and hope for the best.

His chances had gotten a lot smaller, and that only left the final task, where the priority would just get to the dozens of younger members of the delegation who still hadn't gotten to compete. He was angry.

It just wasn't fair. And like he always did; he took out his anger on some invisible targets while calling it 'a training exercise'. He sent a blasting charm at a wall, feeling a bit vindicated, only for a familiar voice to speak up behind him, "That's a lot of anger in a single spell, young Cedric."

The young Hufflepuff turned in panic, his wand clenched in his hand, before freezing. In front of him was the familiar form of Albus Dumbledore, giving him a mischievous smile. He didn't know how to act around the former headmaster. The man was a hero, at least he used to be before he ended up being outed for trying to kill a student and a million other things, especially with that mess with the fake Grindelwald.

He stammered in panic, "Headmaster, I mean, Professor. Sorry…"

"It's fine," the man answered with a kindly voice, "I suppose I'm not your professor anymore, young Cedric. Albus will do, for now."

"I think I'll just stick to professor. You've been the headmaster for so long, it would be rude not to," Cedric replied before asking, "How have you been?"

It was a bit of an awkward question. Then again, how would one ask a person how they were handling being banished from their home country after years of service? To be perfectly honest, Cedric had no idea why that was the case.

Apparently, Dumbledore tried to kill Potter and then kept spouting that Grindelwald had escaped from Nurmengard, before being told in no uncertain terms that he wasn't welcome in Britain anymore. Now that he thought about it, he could see Potter's fingerprints all over it. It was something he would have done, tried to outsmart someone into becoming their own downfall. The whole matter wasn't really investigated properly anyway, and that was suspicious enough.

The man chuckled in response, "I've been quite well. I haven't travelled around Europe since my youth. It's funny how a single country could tie you down so much. I don't suppose you share that sentiment, considering the state of the room."

Cedric scratched the back of his head nervously, "Yeah. It's amazing to see all of this, but I have to say that things got a bit frustrating."

"I suppose that your streak of bad luck would have made anyone feel anxious. You really are a good student and a good wizard. It really is a shame that no one could see that. I suppose you have two other tasks to show the world just that."

"Not much, with Greengrass and Carmichael competing, I don't think McGonagall will let me compete."

The man hummed, "I suppose I could help with that slightly. Minerva was a very close friend of mine and I can be very convincing."

Hope burned in Cedric's chest, "You will?"

"I don't see why helping a former student of mine display his true potential can be considered a bad thing. Speaking of help, I was wondering if you could do me a favour."

"A favour?" the young wizard asked apprehensively.

"Nothing really despicable, believe me. This place, Olympus, is a very dangerous place. Even that is a massive understatement. It's a very old place, steeped in magic and treachery. This entire monument is considered to be a testament to Kronos' sons betraying him, and I have always been worried about the Olympians. They've always been the secretive sort. Giving out a quest for a golden apple for a school competition is too much of a prize without some kind of ulterior motive. Golden Apples are as coveted as Nicholas Flamel's Philosopher's Stone, only that they are consumables and more finite than the stone. What I wish for you is to keep an eye on the situation and keep me appraised as I am being summoned back to Britain."

It made sense, of course; using immortality as a prize for a school tournament was a bit much. But that whole thing felt like a bit like spying for his taste. Before he could think of it, he processed that last part, "You're going back to Britain, sir?"

"Oh, yes. Cornelius was quite apologetic for the whole misunderstanding a year ago and asked me to help rein in the chaos there. I'd like to think that I'm a powerful wizard and that the entire war wouldn't have happened had I stayed in Britain."

The prospect of the war ending and his parents being safe was very enticing, but ever the Hufflepuff, he responded, "I'm sorry, sir. I don't think I can do that."

The man nodded graciously, "I suppose I'll have to keep an eye on everything myself. I'll have to tell Cornelius that I won't come back. What a shame; I was planning on taking a detour in Saint Mungo's and helping heal your mother."

The younger wizard stiffened at that, "My mother?"

"Oh yes. She was hurt during an attack, somewhere around the fifth task. It wasn't the Lycans, thankfully, but she was especially susceptible to the dementor's presence, or it activated some kind of curse. I suppose Amos didn't tell you, not wanting you to distract himself. He's been quite distraught, I'm afraid. I had been planning on taking a look at her condition during my trip back to Britain, but it seems like I'll have to cancel the entire thing altogether."

"I'll do it," he stammered, "I'll do whatever you want, just please save my mum."

"I'm very glad that you were able to see reason, Mr. Diggory. Now, just to make it official."

Cedric was barely able to think until the deceptively fast old man suddenly touched his chest with his hand, which glowed a blinding white. Cedric was confused for a fraction of a second until the burning started. It was like liquid lava, spreading all over his body, as if everything inside him was being purified. His vision blurred as pain and heat surged through every nerve, but then, just as suddenly, the agony subsided. Cedric gasped, collapsing to his knees, drenched in sweat. The glow faded from the old man's hand, and Cedric felt... lighter as if a heavy weight he hadn't known he was carrying had been lifted. The despair he had been feeling about his mother's condition, about his father's obvious grief, lessened, slightly. He would ask the man in his next letter, just to make sure that she was alright, that Dumbledore would do as he said and heal her.

He gasped, "What was that?"

"Just some insurance, something to help you in your task and keep you safe in the meantime. Good luck, Mr. Diggory."

And with that, the older man left the room, leaving a sore student who for some reason, felt renewed purpose inside him. It was like any form of indecision was gone and he had this secret guiding hand helping him out. He could see what the next step should be. He had to know why Carmichael and Greengrass chose to compete in this task specifically, especially since the duelling tournament had been obviously the safer choice to compete in, yet they hadn't done so. Perhaps they knew about the prize beforehand?

There were too many unknowns, but it was a good first avenue to investigate. With renewed purpose, Cedric Diggory returned to the Hogwarts Express. He would not fail Dumbledore, not with the man holding his mother's fate in his hands. Not that he would have denied the man otherwise. After all, it was for the greater good.

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AN: Alright, so I'm making things move a bit and I haven't actively done anything with Dumbledore for a while, and it's time for the main story to pick up. I'm a bit rusty about writing this Dumbledore, so I hope I portrayed him well, and saw how he pressured Cedric quickly into becoming his pawn. To be honest, I made Diggory a bit on the gullible side, then again, I didn't really make a proper portrayal of him, so it's somewhat plausible. Things should start to get a bit more eventful than the last few chapters – which I noticed you mostly didn't like. I get that the pacing was pretty slow since I needed to catch things up a bit after the time skip and make the stakes appropriate. The good news is that I think there's one more chapter of setting the pieces up before the task begins, and things will definitely not be boring there. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.

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If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr

I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

Thank you guys for your support in these hard times. 

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