Remus Lupin and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Chapter 33: Simple Failings

A week or so later, a knock came on his door as sleet began to spatter the window, pulling his attention from packing his case up for his upcoming class. "Come in," he called.

Cedric Diggory opened the door, stuck his head in and said with an uncharacteristic grimness, "Could I talk to you for a moment, Professor?"

Normally a pleasant and smiling boy, he seemed strangely tense and uncomfortable, though he did manage a small smile of greeting. It was a bit perplexing to Remus, not only for the fact that he had only ever seen this boy good-humored in the halls and class, but also for the fact that he was scheduled to be with the rest of the 5th year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in his classroom in 10 minutes. Puzzled, he stopped packing and leaned a hip against his desk with a wince as he turned to give the boy his full attention; focusing was hard over the dull throbbing that permeated him, courtesy of the very-nearly full moon. "Of course, Cedric. What can I help you with?"

"Thank you, sir. I..." he hesitated, then said, "I wanted to let you know that I'm not going to be in class today."

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh?"

Cedric nodded uneasily, yet met his gaze squarely. His grey eyes were clearly troubled but resolute--Remus had noticed that he had informed him of his absence instead of asking his permission. "You told us last week that today is going to be the boggart lesson, so I've been looking up the theory and spell behind it, even practiced a bit on my own and I think I've got it down well enough for the O.W.L.s. I just...I already know what my boggart is and...I don't want to give people the wrong idea. So, I think it's best if I skip today."

It was a trouble with the fear, then. He folded his arms thoughtfully, one hand rubbing absently across his mouth as he studied the ground before Cedric's feet. The sleet picked up, rolling against the window in hard spats that punctuated the silence, and the chill rising from the glass crept around the heat from the fire, needling into his joints, his bones. Was this a trauma or merely embarrassment? Cedric had never struck him as a particularly prideful person, nor a very troubled one; though, he cautioned himself, that didn't mean anything. His judgement had been incorrect or incomplete before and trauma was not always readily apparent from the outside. How much to ask? How much to insist? To approach the situation as a compassionate adult or an insistent defender for education? Could he do both? He looked up again, seeing the boy watching him almost warily, still standing tall and guarded. "You've encountered a boggart before, then?"

Cedric sighed and said, "Yes, last summer. We were cleaning out the basement and--" he stopped and considered Remus a moment, seeming to size him up.

Remus stood there, calmly, and let him decide. When he watched Cedric chew pensively on the inside of his cheek, he merely gently offered. "I'm not going to tell anyone anything you say, unless you're in some sort of danger. Not even Dumbledore."

"No, that's not..." He shook his head and blew out a breath. It seemed he reached some sort of resolve because he suddenly lost his apprehensive edge and lifted his hands, palm up, as if requesting understanding. "I thought it was my dad. It looked exactly like him, but he just stepped around this stack of boxes and started in on how disappointed he was in me and how he had wasted all his time and trust on me, that I would never be as successful or famous or talented as he wanted me to be, that I was worthless, a disgrace. How he used to be so proud of me but--"

Cedric stopped when his fists seemed to involuntarily clench and he swallowed, the line of his jaw hard. A weak smile flashed across his face. "Sorry. Harder to talk about than I thought."

He took a breath. "It tore me up for days; I couldn't even talk to him about it because I was just so...upset that I'd done something to lose his trust like that. And, of course, he never brought it up, though I didn't know why. I thought he was just too ashamed of me to say anything more. It wasn't until my mum started yelling one night and came bolting upstairs saying we had a boggart in the basement that I realized the reason he never talked about it was that it wasn't him. It was just... what I was most afraid of, I guess. But he works in the Ministry. A lot of the parents know him and I just don't want people getting the wrong idea and start rumors, you know? Me stepping to the front of the class and my boggart's my dad---they'll get all sorts of horrible ideas and I don't want anyone thinking he, I dunno, hits me or scares me or something, because he doesn't. He loves me. He just wants the best for me. I just...I just don't want to take the chance that it will reflect badly on him."