Love's Labour Lost
Scarletserpent
Disclaimer: Although this story follows the plot of the book/movie Goblet of Fire, the plot is my own. Everything belongs to Rowling and the producers of the movies. I am not selling it, or reproducing it for profit, I swear. I am not quite genius enough to work that out.
Summary: Harry Potter is fourteen and in a lot of trouble. When confusion and dark forces combine to make a daunting fourth year, who can Harry turn to as it all falls to pieces? The story behind the story, of a love that defeats evil, but even love cannot cheat death.
Chapter One: Order in Chaos
"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore's voice thundered through the Great Hall, his cheeks turning a ruddy red in his fury. His eyes narrowed as he stared down a hundred children in search of one, The one, the one who had mattered greatly to the survival of the wizarding world since he was a boy of less than a year. The boy stood reluctantly, Hermione Granger giving him a veritable shove in the direction of the Headmaster. Cowed, came the first thought as he saw the expression on Harry's face, the boy was utterly cowed. It couldn't have been the boy who put his name in that goblet, he knew, he wasn't after eternal glory and he certainly wasn't completely thick in the head. But, if it wasn't him, then who could it be?
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Cedric walked into the room,wherespinning and buzzing with enchanted trinkets that shimmered and glowed, much like the expressions on the face of one Fleur Delacoeur, who was gazing dreamily from the windowsill. Even Viktor Krum seemed to be congratulating himself, his usually stern expression softening into what could have been a smile. From the looks on their faces when he entered, his expression must have mirrored their own. He held his hand out to Krum and looked at his two rivals, "Good job then, eh? Looks like we're it."
Krum took his hand, giving it one firm pump, "It would seem that way."
Fleur slid from the windowsill, "It is a pleasure to meet you, monsieur...?"
"Diggory, Cedric Diggory," he replied, taking her hand and pressing a light kiss to it. Straightening up, he looked around the room, wondering where the professors were, after all, he had been the last champion chosen. He expected some reporter or another would show up, he had never really been a fan of paparazzi himself, even though he had never been famous enough to earn their time, he mused, watching the flames flicker in the fireplace. Frankly, it hadn't been the thought of fame or even eternal glory that had drawn him to the contest, he had simply known when he saw the goblet and heard Dumbledore announce the need for a champion that it was his calling. There was something more than eternal glory afoot, of that he was certain; although how he knew was a mystery, he had never been incredibly talented in the area of divination.
A burst of yelling, in several tongues it seemed, drew him from his musings. He turned in time to see a white-faced Harry Potter heading towards the group of champions. The yelling increased as several of the wizarding world's most imposing people made their way down the stairs. Madame Maxine switched between French and English, seemingly frantic and Igor Karkaroff's scowl was dark and forbidding. Suddenly, Dumbledore surged forward, and more frantic exclamations ensued. Harry's eyes widened, he resembled a cornered beast, too frightened to do more than whisper and shake his head jerkily in response to the Headmaster's interrogation. So absorbed was Cedric in watching the reactions of the poor kid that it took him several moments to fully comprehend the situation. Harry Potter was the fourth Triwizard Champion.
Barty Crouch was making some speech about the clarity of the rules on the matter, it seemed that Harry would have to compete. The adults scrutinized Harry, some looking fearful and others disgusted, as the realization sank in. Harry's face became solemn, the frightened animal disappeared without a trace. Cedric wondered if this was the face he had worn when he had faced Voldemort when he was eleven. He remembered quite distinctly hearing his father raving about the boy who had broken the defenses he had helped build around the stone. Amos had even let his son help him with some of the simpler enchantments, often teaching him the more difficult ones. His father had always been like that, teaching him something new, expecting nothing less than perfection. Cedric wondered if the boy had actually found a way around the age line, perhaps an older friend had placed his name in for him. He noted the slight defiance in Harry's eyes, it was entirely possible that he had cheated his way into the tournament, who didn't want eternal glory, after all?
The teachers had turned their backs and Dumbledore was attempting in vain to soothe both Madame Maxine and Karkaroff in the same breath. Harry's face had once more turned ashen, he appeared about ready to faint or puke, or perhaps both. The slight trace of defiance had left his eyes, rendering him gaunt and sickly looking. At that point, Cedric would have bet his life on the fact that Harry had not, in fact, placed his name into that stupid goblet. Cedric paused, taking in the scene around him; Karkaroff had taken Krum and Madame Maxine was being led out by Fleur and Dumbledore.
He turned to face Harry, "Harry?" he asked quietly, desperately hoping the boy wasn't planning on losing dinner's pumpkin juice and shepherd's pie.
The Boy Who Lived looked up at him, the emptiness in his eyes betraying the smile on his face, "Cedric?" he replied, attempting to look a little less green and a little more champion-like.
Cedric found a smile creeping its way onto his face, "You all right then?" he asked softly.
Harry blushed, a full, red flush staining his cheeks and neck, "Sure... just fine." Looking at his toes, he attempted to regain at least a semblance of pride.
Hesitating, Cedric glanced around the room, "You didn't do it, did you?"
Harry's mouth fell open in shock, "of course not! Why would I want to enter the tournament? What would I have to gain?"
"Eternal glory?" Cedric hazarded, lifting a brow.
"Who needs eternal glory when I already have this infernally stupid scar?" he demanded, pushing aside his unruly fringe.
Cedric paused to consider, Harry was already famous of course. They did, however, say that fame was addictive, which he related to Harry.
"Addictive?" he scoffed. "More like repulsive. Who wants to be followed around and ogled for something that they can't even remember?" he paused, an amused smile creeping onto his face. He shook his head, looking Cedric in the eye, "I've already been through enough danger in my life, why would I need to add to it?"
Cedric laughed. Harry didn't seem proud enough to think that the skills of a fourth year would hold against the challenges he would face. Even then, he was right, why go in search of danger? Which was, ironically enough, exactly what Cedric himself had done entering the tournament. Funny, that. Turning back to Harry, he frowned, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. Someone else had to have done it then, after the World Cup he wasn't surprised. He shuddered remembering that night. Just recalling hearing Arthur Weasley asking where Harry was made him shiver. Losing Harry meant losing hope. The wizarding world didn't stand a chance without Potter, he knew. But who was going to save Harry?
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Harry was losing it, he knew it. Dumbledore hadn't called his name, he hadn't seen a paper with his name come out of the Goblet of Fire, and he certainly wasn't having this bizarre conversation with Cedric Diggory. He wanted to sink into the floor in humiliation, this was too much. Why was it that he always ended up in these situations, anyway? It wasn't enough for him to have faced Voldemort three times and survived? He shivered. Someone was always after him. Always.
Diggory spoke, "Of course, Harry." His voice was a strange combination of pity and wonder. No doubt the other boy saw him as a freak and a cheater, he had heard the whispers. Cedric cocked his head, seeming to consider something. Suddenly, he felt the strong urge to defend himself, he hadn't put his name into the stupid Goblet and Cedric had to believe him.
"I didn't do it, Cedric," he deadpanned, staring him straight in the eye.
The taller boy seemed at a loss for words, and he looked down at him in confusion. Comprehension dawned, and his visage softened. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and murmured softly, "I know."
It was Harry's turn to be rendered speechless; Cedric believed him. He had absolutely no reason to, and yet he trusted that Harry was telling the truth. Harry gazed up at him in awe, what kind of character did it take to trust so blindly? To accept so easily? 'A very, very stupid one,' a part of him said. No, Cedric wasn't stupid, even if he was a Hufflepuff. He looked back up at the other boy, and whispered, "Thank you."
Cedric smiled down at him, there was no wonder why he had become a champion. Not only was he charismatic and brave, but he was compassionate as well. He deserved the honor. Harry was reminded of his precarious situation in the tournament. He didn't deserve Cedric's compassion, he had taken his glory. Some part of him argued that it hadn't actually been his fault, but Harry knew that it was always his fault in some manner. If it weren't, then he wouldn't be the Boy Who Lived. At that he grimaced, it was really an awful epithet.
"Harry?" Cedric's voice floated into his reverie. His head snapped up, Cedric was still holding his shoulder, his eyes filled with concern.
"Just woolgathering," Harry said, shifting uncomfortably under the other seeker's gaze. He had never felt fully comfortable in Cedric's presence since the match he lost due to the Dementors, but now the discomfort seemed multiplied tenfold. The other boy was handsome, strong and powerful, something that Harry was sure he never could be. Cedric's grey eyes searched his, asking questions that he didn't know the answers to.
"Ahh," Cedric sighed, releasing the younger teen.
An awkward silence settled over them. Harry felt a blush creeping up his neck once more, although for the life of him he had no idea why. He kept his eyes trained on the ground. After an agonizing minute, he peeked up through his fringe. Cedric was fixated on a spinning gold orb, making a circuit around the room. Harry was surprised to note the dark-haired boy had a faint pink tinging his cheeks. He was instantly jealous and nervous at the same time. Only Cedric could blush and look good doing it, and he suddenly felt like a fool for thinking it. The silence had stretched too far, he cleared his throat. "So."
Cedric's eyes left the orb, "So."
Feeling ridiculous, Harry quashed the nervous feeling and said, "I guess I'd best be going. Ron and Hermione will be wondering what's happened, what after all the excitement."
"Excitement," Cedric stated blankly. "Oh, yes, of course. I suppose I should be going as well, it's not every day a Hufflepuff is chosen for something like this." he said distractedly.
Harry looked at him dejectedly, "Yeah, sorry bout that, I don't mean to, y'know, steal Hufflepuff's thunder and whatnot."
"No, Harry, it isn't your fault, I know. My housemates will get over it, besides its not as if I'm not in the tournament. This whole thing was a mistake."
"A massive, coronary-inducing mistake," Harry muttered to himself.
Cedric chuckled, "Coronary-inducing? Yes, I suppose so." He said, considering. "Don't worry about it Harry, you will be absolutely fine."
Harry smiled up at him, thankful for whatever had made Cedric believe him. "Thanks Cedric. I'll, uh, see you later then?"
"Sure," the older boy replied. He opened his mouth, then gave Harry a considering glance and shut it, seeming to decide on, "See you around."
As the other boy left the room, Harry couldn't help but wonder why Dumbledore hadn't been down to fetch him yet. Generally the headmaster wouldn't let a debate with Karkaroff and Madame Maxine allow him to be so lax. Shrugging, Harry made his way up the stairs to face his friends.
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A/N: So, this is a new thing for me, not writing per se, but this is a new kind of story. Because I will be following the book and movie the extent to which I can develop will have to be stretched, so bear with me if things aren't exactly as they are in the book or movie, because this is a bit of a combination move. I will try to be faithful to this story, it kind of just popped into my head, so please R & R, itreally helps when inspiration runs dry.