Archive of Our Own

It starts at the World Cup of all places. There’s nothing instant or fast paced about it. Simply bashful looks and blushing cheeks when their eyes meet. Between the two of them rests an unspoken connection where they both seemingly understand – that neither of them wants to leave the other.

When they’d both landed after the tumultuous journey via portkey, Cedric doesn’t bid the teens and family goodbye. Rather, he makes the bold move to ask if he can join them. At first, quite a few protests go around.

His father doesn’t understand why he would want to join the younger students and his “rival” (or so he would call Harry). The Weasleys are reticent, also unsure about what made their party so special. Harry is silent the whole way through, watching it all unfold with wide eyes – a little bit doubtful that this was truly his reality.

But after some good-natured conversation, Cedric and his parents join the other party, destined to do some finagling with the seats so that everyone can be happy. Amos and the twins aren’t terribly happy, but they learn to cope with the situation.

The two families set up their tents next to one another and once they’re done, Cedric can’t help but approach Harry and his friends, “Ah, hello. Would you all want to look at souvenirs with me?”

Unsurprisingly, Ron seems to be the most wary of his offer, probably influenced by his brothers’ displeasure of Hufflepuff’s win last year, “Don’t you have any sixth year friends to hang out with?” he asks in a very accusatory voice. It earns him a sharp jab from Harry’s elbow and Cedric has to laugh.

“Sure, I do, but I suspect you lot are probably more interesting than them,” he says. It’s worth the smile Harry shoots his way. Hermione looks between them with a suspicious expression on her face. But what is there to be suspicious of?

His words seem to have an effect on the Weasley because in the next minute, he’s walking with them to observe the booths and offered prizes. But Cedric isn’t quite concerned with all of that. He picks up a sweet or two and a badge for the team he favors, but most of his attention is on Harry. The teen can’t help but be drawn to him.

They’d met, oh so briefly, before on the Quidditch field and once while Harry was in an infirmary bed, but the energy he had today was such that Cedric had never seen before. It had a deeply personal feel and Cedric reckoned he was more open when away from prying eyes. At school, Harry always seemed to have a veil of tension around him along with the mischief that was always following. In sport and duel, Harry had a springing energy around him where he was free but not quite personable. Instead, Harry almost seemed otherworldly in his pursuits.

But right now, he was painfully human in the way his hand lingered on Cedric’s where they’d brushed fingers. His gaze was cast down past his glasses, but Cedric could see a slight blush cross his pale skin – he couldn’t fight off the one he had of his own.

That day, they don’t talk much in depth, but their casual conversation puts Cedric’s mind at ease. So much that even in the midst of the match, when both of the teams are neck and neck, Cedric (for once) isn’t thinking about how he can be better, make his father prouder, or become a stronger wizard. He’s simply enjoying the match like every other witch and wizard in the stadium.

At the end of the match, in the height of the moment and cheering, Cedric finds himself hugging Harry. He doesn’t know which one of them started it, but he sure won’t be the one to end it. He wraps his arms tight around Harry’s torso and lifts the younger boy into the air with a holler.  Though Harry had been supporting the Bulgarians, Cedric feels his laughter ripple throughout the hug. He can’t remember the last time he felt so strong.

The rest of the night progresses just as well. By the time the sun has set, they’re all talking about the game and the different moves they saw out on the field. While Ron is waxing poetic about the way Krum flies, Harry and Cedric are planning to go flying together once school starts. Harry ends up telling him about the first time he’d ever sat on a broom and Cedric accepts the tale with some of his own past hijinks in exchange.

However, it all comes to a close when there is an explosion. It comes from the outside of the Weasley’s tent. At first, some of the redheads seems to pass it off as out-of-hand partying, but the way Harry is tensed up keys Cedric into Harry’s senses. There’s something off about the way it sounded. He and Harry lock eyes before Mr. Weasley bursts into the space. He’s frantically explaining the fight outside. On instinct, Harry and Cedric grab hands until they’re all running outside and trying to get away from everything – away from the danger. It’s a rocky path as they’re surrounded by people experiencing the same panic. At one point, Harry almost gets knocked back, but Cedric pulls him to his feet once more and they keep going.

In all of the mess, they get separated from the twins and Ron’s sister, but they keep going because they have to. From there on, not much improves, but Cedric finds himself standing up for Harry for a ridiculous reason. He understands then the reason for Harry’s constant stress at Hogwarts. It’s not because of his own actions, but danger simply is nipping at his ankles and pushing him towards a much larger threat.

Cedric decides that it probably comes with being the Boy Who Lived but is prepared to stop that danger himself if he has to. He’s determined to protect Harry – he vows it.

School has started and tensions are high. At least, they are for Cedric. The Triwizard Tournament has been confirmed and keeping in mind the way all his mates talk about it, Cedric may have already put his name in. Everyone is so sure that he’ll be chosen as the Hogwarts champion. Considering that the tournament has a history strewn with the deaths of students, it puts a tad bit of pressure onto him.

It doesn’t help that their new defense teacher is a paranoid old geezer. Cedric has only had one class with him, and the ex-auror already used all of Unforgivables. It had been unnerving to see the ease with which Professor Moody had controlled his classmates. There was still a remaining itch in his brain from when he’d been controlled.

A solace Cedric had been able to rely on was Harry. They didn’t eat any meals together – each spending the meal-times with their respective friends, but they’d met up in between classes a few times to talk. It was those brief moments that relieved some of the pressure pressing down on Cedric’s shoulders. His friends made sure to tease him about the way he relaxed around the younger boy, but he just shoved them off.

Cedric pushed away these thoughts and tried to focus on the task at hand. As a prefect, yet another responsibility he had, he had to do the occasional patrol for students breaking curfew and punish them appropriately. He wasn’t particularly excited for the future when he might actually have to act on finding someone. It was an awfully boring duty and not exactly his style – Cedric didn’t take well to confrontation or blame.

He understood following the rules and was very appreciative of his position, but it wasn’t like he’d never snuck around late at night before. He hadn’t exactly turned out worse for it; in fact, some of his best memories involved sneaking to the kitchens with his buddies to grab a late-night snack.

He’s at the farthest part of his loop when he bumps into something. Only part is, he’s in the middle of an empty hallway – the lumos he’s been using to guide him through the school reveals nothing but himself and the portraits on the walls. They’re all casting him slightly unhappy glares, but none of them totally come out and tell him to turn off his wand. He makes a full circle until something taps his shoulder.

He makes a quick one-eighty turn but finds himself still alone. He about to call for the mystery figure to reveal themself but before he can, there’s a ripple in space. Cedric watches as Harry pushes a shimmering and invisible cloak over his head and shoot him a cheeky grin, “Did I spook ya?” he jokes and Cedric rolls his eyes.

“You know I could take away points for this mischief, right?” he asks in a mock serious tone, but it’s quite obvious that he doesn’t truly mean it, “What are you even doing here?”

Harry pulls the cloak around his shoulders, but not so that it covers the entirety of him, it makes for quite an odd vision, “Oh the usual, some light reading at the library,” he says lightly. Cedric sighs and moves to the right to bump shoulders with the younger boy. Harry laughs before amending his statement, “I was looking for you, obviously.”

Cedric can’t help but smile at that answer, nor can he fight off the blush on his cheeks, “Idiot,” he mutters under his breath, “But I certainly don’t mind the company. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

“Thanks,” Harry replies. They start up their walk again side by side. Cedric can feel the occasional brush of the invisibility cloak on his calves as Harry drifts minutely closer, “Have you had you defense lesson with Moony, yet?” he only asks once they’re a few steps farther down the long hallway.

“Yeah, I can’t say I didn’t learn anything, but it certainly wasn’t the best class I’ve ever had.”

Harry sighs, “Yeah, I wish Professor Lupin didn’t have to go. He was great.” Cedric nods along sagely, he had lucked out having Lupin the year of his OWLs. Otherwise, those tests might not have gone as well as they had, “But Moony’s class, it was weird.”

“Did he use the Unforgivables there too? I don’t see why any of your grade would need to know them,” he says with a frown. At least for the six years, they were encroaching on their final days at Hogwarts and had had a series of unreliable teachers, “What did he make you do?” he asks with a twinge of concern in his voice.

“Well, he certainly tried, but I managed to snap myself out of it,” Harry says very coolly – like it wasn’t a massive success at any level. Cedric looks down at the younger wizard and marvels, “But I really didn’t like the feeling of it.”

He frowns at the admission. It was predictable and made sense (who would like having an Unforgivable used on them?) but hearing it filled Cedric with a sort of protective rage. They’re on the stairs leading to the bridge back to the dorms but Cedric doesn’t let them continue. Instead, he closes in on Harry so the younger boy’s back is pressed against the window and Cedric is looking down with a serious expression, “Look, if anything happens this year, you can come to me, okay?”

Harry looks a little bit nervous, “Even if it sounds completely ridiculous and no one else believes me?”

“That’s a bit specific, but, yeah, even then,” he swears.

His companion eases up, “That means a lot. People don’t always do that.”

Cedric backs up, realizing how close he’d just gotten, “Er, of course, Harry. We’re friends after all.”

After that, they both go out onto the bridge, both shivering in the nighttime cold before entering the other building. Both of them live on the left of the clock, so he doesn’t have to walk too far from his dorm except up a few extra floors.

They’re just a few feet away from the entrance and Cedric is about to bid Harry goodnight when a void hollers at the two of them, “Two lovebirds after hours?” it demands. They both turn with red faces to see the Fat Lady gawking at them. She has a hand delicately put in front of her mouth to show shock.

He awkwardly shuffles to push Harry towards the portrait, “Nope, just walking him back! Okay, sleep well, Harry!” he rushes out before heading to the stairs down. He’s stuck between being satisfied that he finished his first rounds around the school and embarrassed about what the Fat Lady said. He would be the first to admit that he had feelings for Harry (and that he suspected they were returned) but he was fighting a battle with himself over whether or not now would be the best time to act on them.

He was content enough to just be friends for now, he didn’t want to risk anything. 

When Cedric’s name is pulled from the hat, he had felt an odd mix of relief, pride, and nervousness. The entire Hufflepuff house had building him up for this moment, but now the Triwizard tournament solely rested on him. He was fiercely determined not to lose. And maybe if he got through this himself, he could really tell Harry how he felt. That would be a good time to really confess, right?

But all those plans and thoughts were wiped away when Harry’s name shoots out of the goblet, much to the surprise of everyone in the room. Without hesitation, his eyes lock onto Harry’s and he sees the fear that resided in Harry. It was unmistakable as he’d seen it in himself when he prepared for this very moment. Never did he suspect it would come through for someone other than himself.

Behind him, Fleur mutters about this being unfair, but Cedric can hardly think on that – even if it’s true; this is unfair, to Harry most of all who is just a fourth year (legacy or not). Dumbledore calls out his name a second time, summoning the teen to the stage and there’s an obvious steel to his voice.

On shaky legs, Harry walks up to the stage. Cedric can’t help but notice that he’s no longer making eye contact. His glasses are firmly fixed onto the floor. He wants to reach forward and show support for him but knows that this isn’t the place.

As soon as Harry is on stage, an uproar comes from the students – a happier one from the Gryffindor’s than the other houses. Cedric frowns at that. Shouldn’t they be worried like he is? Cedric tries to move closer to him, but before he can act, Harry is in a vice grip from the Headmaster and being pulled off stage. He can’t help but follow along – the other participants are hot on his trail.

He’s just fast enough to see Dumbledore yell at Harry, asking if he’d put in his name. Before he can even think, Cedric is walking forward and pulling Harry out of the man’s grasp, “I think we’d all be more comfortable if you handled this with a bit more restraint, Headmaster,” he says as politely as he can manage.

Luckily for everyone involved, Dumbledore manages to pull himself together. Harry doesn’t budge from Cedric’s side the whole time. He’s all but interrogated by the heads of the different schools. Cedric would have thought that they’d be better at dealing with teenagers, but all of them are as offensive as ever. The only reprieve Cedric gets comes from Moody who suggests this is a plot for someone to kill Harry. It’s not exactly coming from someone he’d want to hear it from nor is it good news by any means, but it lays down an uneven tension around the room. Everyone begins to realize just who they’re dealing with.

It’s exhausting being the most rational person in the room.

Once all possible questions have been asked, it comes out that Harry will simply have to continue as a champion. Harry accepts it good-naturedly because he’s Harry but Cedric wishes he could pull out of the tournament without losing his magic. He didn’t want Harry to compete because he was worried about him. There was no room for feelings like resentment or jealousy when Harry’s life was at risk.

They walk out together and walk a bit further. The other champions and their respective heads have all dispersed and Cedric drags Harry into a niche, “Are you okay?” he asks.

“I really didn’t do it,” Harry insists. He looks like a kid who’s been caught red-handed, but for all the wrong reasons.

Cedric leans forward and grabs one of Harry’s hands in his own, “I know. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I believe you,” he assures the younger teen. Harry looks on the verge of crying, but his tears don’t fall over the edge of his eyelids. Nevertheless, he wipes at his eyes to truly banish any signs of wetness. “What’s wrong?” Cedric asks, despite knowing a whole plethora of possible answers to that question.

Harry looks up at him with those green eyes and says, “I guess I’m just not used to people believing me. That’s what happened the past three years, after all.” With that, Harry launches himself into a hug with Cedric. He wraps his arms tight around the sixth year’s torso.

Cedric can’t remember a time when he’s ever experienced a hug so strong – not even the one at the World Cup had been done with such fervor.

He returns it in full, “It’ll be okay. We’ll stick together,” he promises. He thinks back to the vow he made himself during the World Cup and realizes that that time has finally come, much sooner than he would have suspected.

“Why?” Harry begs to know, gradually dragging himself away from the hug.

What can Cedric even say to that? Because you’re my friend? Because I would trust you with my life despite only knowing you for over a week? Because every time your eyes catch the light in a certain way, I forget how to breathe? He doesn’t think those explanations would make much sense without context.

He realizes that he doesn’t need to complete a task to admit his feelings. There’s no point in waiting until the end of the tournament for a chance he may or may not get considering both of their lives are at risk, “I like you. More than is rational, but it’s the truth. And I want to protect you. I don’t think you’ve gotten enough of that in your past,” he says, hoping he’s not overstepping any boundaries. He pulls his hand away, but Harry doesn’t dare let go of him.

“Less than you’d think,” Harry mutters (Cedric’s heart sinks low at whatever that might mean) before snapping back to the beginning of Cedric’s announcement, “But, I think I like you too. I want to protect you as well!” he declares with a blush so dark it was almost maroon.

Cedric smiles down at him. He wants to invite Harry to the party Hufflepuff has inevitably thrown but knows it won’t be the best place for him. Plus, Gryffindor has probably already started partying despite the lack of preparation, “Do you want me to walk you back?” he offers. There’s not much more to say – not with everything going on in their lives.

Even if they started dating, it likely wouldn’t be any different than what they’re already doing. But Harry perhaps doesn’t see it that way, “I’ll be okay. I think I might stop at the kitchens before heading back to the dorms.”

“Okay, don’t stay out too late or I might catch you,” Cedric says with a grin. Harry’s eyes widen at the joke before smiling – it’s an incredible leap from the fear that had been on his face just minutes ago. Cedric is glad to see it. Harry walks away, towards the kitchens presumably, and Cedric starts his walk by going backwards. Just to let his eyes linger on the younger teen for a few feet longer.

He’s going to have quite a few Hufflepuff’s to set straight about this whole situation.

The two of them end up making a good team. Harry makes up for his lack of magical knowledge with an innate ability to plan and think about situations critically for a battle. Before the first task, the two of them spent a lot of time together practicing magic and going over Cedric’s notes from all the years prior.

They both have different strengths but talking to Harry about his plan and vice versa helps them be prepared. After learning that they would have to fight a dragon, it all becomes so much clearer what they’re going to have to do. Still, it doesn’t make watching Harry fly past a dragon on his broomstick any easier to bare.

Still, they both come out of the event with non-fatal injuries and the admiration of their peers to boot. The latter part is what Cedric is thinking about during their current study date (the date part is less implicit, but Cedric likes to think of it as such anyway). After they both got past their dragons, they’ve gotten quite a lot of not-so-subtle glances of interest. Harry doesn’t seem to notice them as much, but Cedric can’t help but to do so.

Cedric, himself, has even drawn the attention of Cho Chang, a fifth year Ravenclaw. The interest was not returned in the slightest. But, he had to wonder. With the dance coming up, would it even be possible for him and Harry to go together? He doesn’t want to hurt Harry’s feelings, but he can’t stop thinking about the troubles it will cause. With Rita Skeeter running around wreaking havoc through the news and the ever-suspicious tournament judges it almost seems impossible.

He looks over at Harry, who is looking down at the golden egg in his lap with a critical eye – looking over all of the outlying designs and intricacies. To his left, he has a library book on different cultural marks lying on the grass. In front of them, the water laps gently against the earth. Most everyone is already at dinner, but they ate earlier than usual to get the chance to study.

The egg hint was stumping both of them. At this point, Cedric was positive it never even left his side. He looks down at the language book he’s holding and frowns. He’s at least 90% positive that whatever the egg is screaming has nothing to do with Ancient Orc. He shuts the book with a loud sigh and garners Harry’s attention. He has a tired smile on his face, “I wish I was as good at research as Hermione is,” he admits.

Cedric just shrugs, “We all have our strong suits, I guess. Have you found anything?”

“Well, the designs look a little bit familiar to a sect of Harpies that live near the ocean, but it’s still not quite matching up,” Harry explains, “There has to be an easier way to do this,” he laments. The older teen wholeheartedly agrees.

Over the water, the sky is a flurry of reds and oranges as the sun has almost completely set, “Maybe we just need a break.”

Harry hums along and puts down the eggs before moving more towards Cedric, “Are the Hufflepuffs doing their dancing lessons with Professor Sprout?” Harry decides to ask.

He laughs, “I don’t know if you could call them ‘lessons,’ we mostly just make do with what we already know. While Sprout knows her way around every plant to grace Hogwart’s land, she doesn’t quite know the difference between a Waltz and a Foxtrot.”

“But you do?” Harry asked, seemingly bemused.

Cedric blushes, “I had to do quite a lot of dancing when I was younger for parties and the like,” Harry looks at him curiously and Cedric keeps talking for some reason, “How about I show you,” he offers.

“Here?” Harry exclaims with wide eyes.

“Where else?”

They both get up on unsteady legs – too used to sitting down for such a long time – before coming together. Cedric holds his left hand up and his right arm out – it would make sense for him to lead this dance, right? Harry fumbles with a position but Cedric is patient with him. With Harry’s hand in his own and a gentle grasp on his shoulder, he moves his hand to rest firmly against Harry’s back to hold onto him, “Do you remember the box step?” he asks a red-faced Harry.

Green eyes look up at him through brown locks and Harry nods. Cedric walks them through the movements a few times before stopping a pulling out his wand. He casts a rather simple spell, but it brings out a special tune to play all around them. Golden music notes dance in the air around them. He lets Harry take it in for a second before pushing them to start again. This time, the dancing comes far more naturally. He even manages to swing Harry around the grass in some simple spins. There are a few moments where they trip up, but it just makes the dance all the more perfect. There’s no one he’d rather do this with.

As the song goes on, their positions become more relaxed as they get closer together. They’re still following the music but it’s no longer such a rigid dance as they fall together.

In the middle of all this, Harry keeps his eyes on Cedric. Then he says, “I know it’s impossible, but if I could, I’d want to go to the dance with you.” At those words, Cedric is ready to drop all of his reasoning for them going separately but Harry doesn’t give him the chance, “But this is enough. We probably shouldn’t bring too much attention to ourselves,” he says, wise beyond his years.

“I hate that you’re right,” he mutters.

They keep dancing and talking until they’re no longer following a pattern – simply swaying together side by side – and the sun has fully set.

When the Yule Ball does finally arrive and they each have their respective dance partners, Cedric finds himself replaying the dance they had in his head – it’s a though more sweet than any other.

Not long after the Yule Dance and during one of the few times Cedric is by himself, he’s approached by Professor Moody. The teacher shuffles him into his nearby office and closes the door behind them, “Cedric, how have you been progressing with the hint?” he asks.

Cedric can’t quite place it, but something about this encounter feels all too much like a trap. Moody makes an imposing figure and his prosthetic eye is unwavering as it looks at him. He clears his throat, “I’ve been researching it and might be close?” he says like he’s guessing. He doesn’t dare mention that he’s working with Harry. Because even if it’s common knowledge that they’re friends (Cedric did publicly denounce the pins and chants that criticized Harry, after all), the last thing he wants Moody to know is that they’re a bit closer than that.

The man hums and narrows his eye, “How far have you gotten?”

Cedric think through the collection of notes he and Harry have constructed around the topic of the egg. He’d found a similar sounding language in the cretaceous fae and Harry was still exploring symbols that the Ocean Harpies could have derived their own markings from, “I suppose the egg has something to do with the water?” he surmises.

A wicked grin comes over Moody’s face, “You’re getting there; now, have you tried putting the egg underneath the water?” Moody asks with a curious voice.

Cedric’s jaw drops and he wonders why they hadn’t thought of that. If what Moody is saying is true, then they had been so close! He hadn’t gotten to the section in his linguistics book about mermaids, but he recalled an old children’s tale that explained how one could understand their language when submerged in water, “Thank you, professor,” he says in a rush before jolting out of the office.

He’s lucky he has a free period because it means his first stop will be the prefect’s bathroom, it’s a bit early for a bath but this seems important. He’s running through the halls when he bumps straight into Harry. It was a complete accident, so he wastes no time helping him pick up his books, “Shoot, you okay?” he asks.

Harry just laughs, “I’ve dealt with worse; where are you going in such a rush?”

“Oh! Do you wanna come with?”

“I’ve got class,” Harry admits with a frown.

A student grumbles about having to walk around them since they’re taking so much space and they both awkwardly move to the outside of the hall, “Are you familiar with the prefect’s bathroom?” Harry nods, “Well, take your egg with you when you go. The password is ‘Pine Fresh,’” he says in a hurried tone.

Then Harry’s face goes a bright red, “Is that where you were trying to invite me?”

“What? No! I mean, yes, but not like that!” he insists.

Harry gives Cedric a suspicious look before letting out a suspicious hum, “Okay, but don’t think about me too much on your way there,” he says with a wink before smoothly walking away.

Cedric is left behind blinking. What just happened? The hairs on the back of his neck are standing tall and he suppresses a dopey smile, “I’m screwed, aren’t I?” he asks no one in particular as he watches Harry’s robes swish away.

The second task is finally complete. Filled with the adrenaline from winning first place and the relief that came from seeing Harry emerge from the water, Cedric wants nothing more than to pick Harry up and spin him around. But with the entire school and more watching, it isn’t the wisest decision.

They end up walking back to the school with everyone else but split off as soon as possible. Harry and Cedric are walking around the grounds of the school. Both of them are soaked down to the bone, but it doesn’t stop Cedric from throwing his arm around Harry’s shoulder nor Harry reaching up to interlock their fingers. The towels they’re both donning drape off them loosely but they make no efforts to right the fabric.

“You were brilliant, Harry. And I’m glad you found that gillyweed on time,” he says cheerily.

Harry leans into him, “It’d have been better had I learned the Bubblehead charm,” he mock laments.

Cedric squeezes Harry’s hand, “Nah, you always manage to pull through no matter what.”

“You’re completely right, we can’t all be as perfect as Prefect Cedric Diggory, some of us simply have to make do,” he says in a safely voice that sends Cedric into stitches laughing.

“I ‘spose so.”

Just as the breeze catches up to them, they make their way into a rare spot of light. It cuts through the trees and lands to illuminate their two figures made one. Cedric looks down to see Harry’s brown hair glowing so that it’s almost golden.

He removes his arm and hand from Harry’s grasp and turns himself so that he and the younger teen are face to face. Now, he slips both arms over Harry’s shoulders. Harry slides his arms around Cedric’s torso, “Are we about to dance?” He asks with a cheeky smile.

When Cedric shakes his head, Harry looks confused. The Hufflepuff is sure to right that by asking a simple question, “Can I kiss you?”

As Harry’s cheeks light up, Cedric realizes that this is it. This is what he’s willing to risk everything for. He doesn’t want to stay silent about it anymore because there’s so much he loves about Harry. There’s no reason for them to keep turning around each other – just leaving their feelings out in the open and not acting on them. Maybe he’s greedy, but he wants more.

So, when Harry lets out a bold, “Yes,” Cedric wastes no time in pulling him closer and kissing him. Harry leans into the kiss with an unpracticed fervor and Cedric lets him. His hands move upwards into Harry’s hair before they both pull away. Harry’s lips are bright red against his cold flushed skin and Cedric’s breath hitches at the sight.

He wouldn’t trade this for the world.

The air is charged with an intense amount of excitement all around them. Harry and Cedric, both with the same number of points are holding hands in anticipation of being called out onto the field. Outside of the waiting room, they can hear the cheering from the stands. He can already imagine his father sitting as close to the edge as he can manage.

Introducing his dad and Harry for the second time had almost been as awkward as the first– Cedric had barely saved the event with a simple touch to Harry’s shoulder. It had been clear enough so that his father was aware of what was going on, but subtle such that it wasn’t exactly publishable as fact for the reporters. He knew Harry didn’t want that type of attention right now and was willing to accept that.

Harry is holding onto his hand like he’s scared that Cedric is going to disappear. Cedric knows the younger teen doesn’t exactly have the best feelings about today – especially with the headaches he’s been getting from his scar – and wants to assure him that it’ll be okay. He tightens his grip, a silent reminder of Cedric’s feelings, that he’ll do whatever it takes to protect him. Harry squeezes back without hesitation. The doors to the field open with a magical field and the four champions walk out in order.

The two Hogwarts students are leading the way onto the field. As the task has been described, they’ll enter the labyrinth in separate locations and race to get to the cup which will signify their victory. He can feel Krum’s gaze focused on him but shakes off the nerves it gives him. Now is the time to focus.

He and Harry continue holding hands until they have to split up for their separate entrances. Cedric is looking at the opened-up gateway of shrubbery and takes a few deep breaths. He can do this. A loud horn is blown to signify that the race has begun and Cedric and Harry both take off.

The labyrinth is filled with a near infinite amount of twists and turns. Each leading to a more difficult checkpoint to get past. A true test of a wizard’s mastery of their magic. As the challenges get harder, Cedric hopes that means he’s getting closer.

A red firework is blasted into the sky, but he continues on and hopes that it didn’t come from Harry.

Cedric takes a sharp turn past the brush and locks eyes with none other than another champion. Except, it’s Harry. Considering they both came from two of the three paths, that must mean the cup is the remaining direction. A competitive smirk crosses Cedric’s face and he takes off in a sprint. They turn the corner shoulder to shoulder and both running as fast as possible. At the very end of the path, the cup is shining brighter than anything he’s seen in the labyrinth so far.

Both of them are straining to get to the cup as fast as possible and despite the seriousness of the situation, Cedric can’t stop himself from smiling. They’re competing as rivals, sure, and he’s taking this very seriously (he still wants to make his dad proud). But something about racing Harry is just inherently fun. It’s probably just because Harry in general makes him happy.

The vines all around them tug at the bodies and try to make purchase on their bodies, but they keep going – there’s no room to stop, not when the two of them are matched so closely. They lightly shove each other back and forth in the narrow passage. Both of them are pushing themselves as hard as possible. Just for a little bit of glory.

Then he’s pulled back by a particularly voracious vine paired with a violent wind. It pulls harshly on his leg so that he falls face first before it starts to pull him back. The other vines attempt to join it in encasing him in a tomb of leaves. He aims his wand at the first vine, but he can’t make the shot with all the tugging. He looks back at Harry who’s stopped running and has his wand at the ready. He’s squinting behind his glasses before he makes an incredibly well-placed shot of magic. The vine pulls back, repulsed, and Cedric is free. Harry walks up to him and offers his hand for Cedric to grab.

He accepts it and is dragged back up to his feet. Cedric didn’t have any doubts that Harry wouldn’t have left him there. Once Cedric is standing, he doesn’t dare let go of Harry’s hand. A cursory glance back to where they’ve come from shows that none of the other champions are coming for them. The cup is sitting right there as they walk forward, “Should we grab it together?” Harry asks with a hopeful voice despite the wind cutting the air around them.

“I’d like nothing more,” Cedric says without hesitation.

They both reach forward with their free hands to grab the cup. Neither of them are able to really grab it as the second they make contact, they’re rocketing forward through space. They land standing up but only because of how persistently they’re holding onto one another. They’re in a foggy graveyard. The cup has gone flying away from them and Cedric has no idea where this is, “Could this still be part of the tournament?” he asks.

Harry tugs on his hand, “I don’t think so Cedric, something feels off.”

“Should we explore?” Later, he’ll think back on this and realize what a fool he’d been for not listening to Harry. He looks around and finds that he can’t see anyone there, “Hello?” he calls out to the emptiness of it all. They’re standing next to a large grave that Harry seems to take interest in. Cedric wants to go grab the cup, but he’s still latched onto Harry.

“Cedric, we have to go back and grab the cup,” he says with a deathly pale expression.

“What is it?” he questions. His head turns sharply when he hears the rustling of feet on pavement. In the distance, one figure is walking out of what appears to be a mausoleum; they seem to be clutching onto another smaller person, “Who are they?”

“No,” Harry whispers with such horror that Cedric is immediately alert. Then the younger teen lets out a cry of pain and he’s clinging to his forehead, “Ahhhhh,” he cries in such a detached way that it almost scares Cedric.

He leans down to grip Harry’s shoulder with his free hand, “Are you okay?” he begs to know. But Harry just shakes his head and points towards the cup.

Just as Cedric is about to push them both in that direction, a raspy voice cuts through the air, “Kill the spare.”

Cedric, with wide eyes, looks over at the figure who is now raising his wand. Without another breath, they’re speaking an unforgivable spell and a shot of green is coming straight towards Cedric. Before he can even think to dodge the spell, a flash of black passes in front of him and takes the blast: it was Harry.

The spell pushes Harry’s body into Cedric’s arms and he looks down in horror. Harry’s eyes are open and glassed over: completely unseeing. His skin already looks deathly and pale just seconds after the curse has been cast. He weighs down on Cedric like a ton of rocks until the teen finds himself fallen to the ground with the boy’s body in his arms. This can’t be happening.

He was the one supposed to protect Harry, not the other way around! What has he done? A choked-up sob releases itself from his throat in a guttural matter – the sound almost doesn’t sound human. He looks up at the encroaching figure, their wand is still raised but they look regretful, “I’m sorry, master, he just jumped out at it.”

Cedric looks down his torso to see and inhuman face cradled in his arms. Cedric’s most base instinct tells him that this must be Voldemort – in all of his disgrace, “It’s fine, the ritual should still work,” it says in a broken voice, “Capture the other, we’ll need someone to deliver my message,” Voldemort pauses, “and the body,” he says with a wicked grin.

The Hufflepuff raises his wand to disarm the man but before he can act, ropes from the incarcerous spell are wrapping around his arms and pulling them tight to his sides. He struggles against the ropes, but they just wrap themselves tighter against him.

He has to watch, with tears streaming down his face, as Harry’s limp body is pinned to a statue and they mutilate his body for some spell. The man dumps Voldemort’s weak body in a cauldron before adding all kinds of ingredients, including Harry’s blood – as difficult as it had been to collect with his stopped heart no longer pushing the blood through his veins. Once the man has gotten what he needs, the sticky liquid coming from Harry’s arm barely makes its way to drip onto the ground.

Cedric grips hard onto his wand, he has to get out of this graveyard somehow, and he has to take Harry with him – dead or not, he’d never leave Harry behind.  

The cauldron bursts into flames and Cedric struggles to cast finite on the ropes. He fails the first two times, but the third time is the charm, and the ropes loosen around him. Cedric is crawling on the dirt ground to get as close to Harry as he can. The boy’s wand has fallen onto the ground and it’s the first thing Cedric can reach. He grabs onto it before reaching for Harry’s leg, planning to accio the cup in his direction.

But it’s at that point that Voldemort has finished appearing from the cauldron and getting ready. He has his wand pointed directly at Cedric with a cruel smile on his face. In his rush to defend himself, Cedric ends up using Harry’s wand to counter Voldemort’s crucio. He casts a powerful, ‘Repulso’ despite using a foreign wand and the two spells collide in the middle.

From the collision of their castings, whisps of magic slide off of the beams. From these mists appear Harry’s image. He looks slightly confused but comes closer to Cedric. Here, he can see that Harry is nothing but a spirit glowing in bright blue. Cedric keeps up his magic to push against Voldemort’s and the ghost’s hand brushes through the side of Cedric’s hair, “You have to get the cup, it’ll all be alright, in the end.”

Cedric shakes his head, he’d very much like to insist that it won’t be okay because Harry won’t be there with him, but the magic on both ends explodes them backwards. Cedric pushes himself to his feet and grabs Harry’s arm, still wounded with a cut before pointing Harry’s wand at the cup, “Accio,” he casts and the cup barrels towards his hand, he grabs and brings it to Harry’s skin, so they’re all attached when it brings them back to Hogwarts.

The last thing Cedric sees is the shapes of numerous death eaters gathering around their Dark Lord before he’s back at Hogwarts, lying on his back. Now, the cup has dimmed in color – it’s blue no longer glows as brightly as before.

Cedric barely looks around to see where he is before he shoots up some red sparks of his own. Then he’s pulling himself towards Harry’s unresponsive body. Cedric leans over Harry and, with shaky hands, grabs onto Harry’s face. The skin is cold on his palms and another sob wracks his body. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end, they were supposed to be together in this endeavor!

“Harry,” he bawled. Cedric’s tears fall from his cheeks and onto Harry’s such that it almost looks like Harry is right there crying with him. It’s a painful thought that makes him wonder if they could have both survived this event.

Voldemort had been right there and neither of them had done anything about it. And now, the monster was alive and well again to bring about nothing but chaos and havoc upon their world. No one, not muggles nor wizards would be safe from his torment. Cedric had put up a weak fight and still didn’t quite understand what happened between the two wands. Within time, the teachers and Madame Pomfrey arrive on scene. But they all find that they’re much too late.

For unless they have a way to bring back the dead, what is done is done. Gentle hands try to pry Cedric off of Harry’s body, but he just clings harder. A crowd full of gasps come from his background and he looks up to see that they’ve arrived in front of everyone, no longer in the center of the labyrinth.

He hears both of their names called from different individuals but finds himself dragged to look his Headmaster in the eye, “What happened?” the older man begs to know with desperation in his eyes.

“Voldemort killed him!” he cries out. The entire bleachers breaks into a panic interweaved with the occasional sob. A grave look overcomes everyone nearby and Cedric finds himself looking back at Harry’s forever distant look.

The next person that even tries to touch Cedric is family. His father and mother have vaulted over the bleacher’s railing to comfort him. They pull him away and into an all-encompassing hug, “He saved me,” he sobs into his mother’s shoulder as tears drip down his face. His father’s hand runs its way down his hair.

As Harry’s body is levitated into the castle, the family unit and Harry’s crying friends follow it. A drape has appeared out of nowhere and is covering the sight. It is with complete silence that they make their way into the infirmary. Whoever is levitating Harry’s body lets it rest on the bed. Madame Pomfrey tries to properly treat him, but Cedric is much too focused on Harry’s unmoving form.

The thin cloth doesn’t do much to stop his raging thoughts of Harry and all that he’s lost. Cedric watches with a firm detachment as the blood splotch on the fabric spreads and drips to no end down the edge of the fabric. It’s only when he sees the blood drip onto the floor that he realizes something is wrong. How has the wound opened up again?

He crawls out of the nurses grasp much to her shock and rips the cloth off of Harry’s body. Sure enough, his cheeks are flushed with a healthy pink and his skin is now slowly resigning from its blue tint. The teen’s chest is slowly rising up and down in healthy breaths, “Harry,” Cedric whispers in shock.

All around him, Harry’s friends and teachers have gathered around the bed to watch as Harry’s eyes open once again. Harry looks around, squinting with no glasses to see out of, and groans, “What happened?”

Cedric pulls him into a tight hug, “You died, you idiot!” he says with relief coursing through his veins. He feels almost high, like he’s taken a dose of Felix Felicis and this is all the work of his luck.

Harry’s arms are weak as they wrap around Cedric’s toros, “But you’re okay,” he murmurs. Cedric can’t help but let out a chuckle at his still apparent concern for him. He pulls away so Harry can actually get looked at and his friends can hug him as well.

But the second he does, Harry slips into unconsciousness, confirmed by Madame Pomfrey putting a quick hand to Harry’s neck to feel his pulse. With a shaky announcement she confirms that he hasn’t died for a second time. Cedric wobbles back and collapses to sit on a bed behind him as he watches everyone fuss about Harry – who he guessed was called the Boy Who Lived for a reason.

He lets out a sigh, relieved that for some reason, they were all okay. The future would be more than rocky, but he wouldn’t be going through it alone. None of them would.