accio-shitpost:

there’s a portrait of cedric diggory in the hufflepuff common room.

nobody knows who painted it. the other houses speculate, but the hufflepuffs know not to ask, because that’s not really what’s important.

it’s one of the moving ones, of course. sometimes cedric isn’t in it – it’s said that the portrait has a twin, over amos diggory’s fireplace, and cedric always loved his father. but he’s there enough, smiling down at the hufflepuffs who congregate in the common room, watching them as they go about their lives.

the portrait is by the door, next to one of the overstuffed yellow chairs. students sit there to talk to cedric, with some modicum of privacy. at first, it was his friends, the people who knew him and miss him and love him. but as time went on it became those who knew him by reputation. kids seeking advice, help with homework. someone to talk to, on a long and cold night. gradually, he became a legend, spoke in hushed whispers to the first-years as they came in. if you’re ever in trouble, talk to cedric. he’ll always help you.

after the battle of hogwarts, when the furniture was mended and the new students hesitantly made their way in, there was another portrait next to it, of hufflepuff’s favoured daughter. tonks, known by one name only, blew painted bubbles from her world of acrylic and canvas. while students came to cedric for help and advice, they came to tonks to ask questions. she would tell the most wicked stories, and some of them were even true. when someone needed cheering up, when they were wanting to brainstorm their next epic prank, they went to tonks.

she wasn’t always there, either. another portrait above a cot, where a baby with shocking blue hair could look at it and laugh. but when she was, she was always happy to have people come to her. when they did, it felt like she wasn’t just paint and canvas. she felt alive.

hufflepuffs look after their own, you see. dead or alive.