Bitter Sweet

"Yes, Hermione, I knew we could do it. This is a major magical breakthrough. We could save so much pain─" came the voice of an obviously ecstatic Harry Potter just prior to his interruption by a witch who became very famous at a young age.

"Yes, well this is all well and good Harry. For all we know though we may have simply discovered how to control inferi. Besides, we can't tell everyone. That would create widespread panic. I don't even think I should have helped you at all," was Hermione's response.

After leaving school, the group had gone on their hunt for Voldemort as soon as Harry had turned seventeen. They had not returned to Hogwarts for their seventh year, though it had remained open. For nearly two years they had hunted Voldemort. They had won. The world was free of evil. The world was also decisively less full of good. Professor McGonagall had been seriously afflicted by the Cruciatus Curse and was constantly in and out of St. Mungo's. Her mental capacity had been reduced to such a minimal fraction that she could no longer occupy herself at Hogwarts; however, she was well enough to care for herself. Neville Longbottom had come up missing one day. Even to the present, no trace of him had been found. The Weasley family had suffered the greatest loss. Both Ron and George had died in the final battle against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Ginny, while remaining unscathed physically, was a mess mentally. She never recovered from the horrors that she saw on that fateful night. Percy, under the imperius curse had taken many lives in his rampage. Even knowing that it was not of his own doing, the Wealey's found it hard to forgive him. Bill had become a full werewolf, yet the fat that he had been bitten by one twice made it a very strange case, as one bite had been in Greyback's human form and the other in Lupin's werewolf form. As a result, Bill actually transformed almost every night, sometimes even if he did take his potion. Only when it was a new moon was Fleur safe to spend the night with him.

"Hermione, there has been so much suffering. How can you take this away from the people in a time like this," Harry replied bitterly. "You need to learn that sometimes emotions are better than practicality."

"And you need to learn that sometimes practicality is better than emotions. You can't go about brining everybody and their mothers back to life, especially with our limited testing of the spell. We can't assume that this is not the exact spell used to make a corpse into an inferi. It's not the same words as the spell listed in the book that I bought but it could be an alternate form. We need to perform more tests."

"No, Hermione. We need to show everyone that there is a way to escape sorrow. The person I love died because of Voldemort. I have to at least try, don't I? I have been so lonely for so long. Please, just let me try to be happy once more."

"That was so long ago. You need to let go. I was actually hoping that we wouldn't figure it out. I… well this is hard to say to you, Harry, but I figured out the spell a month ago. I was hoping that you would give up, move on. Besides, the person I love is dead too."

"I know he's dead. That's why I figured you of all people would want to help me on this. I guess you're just another enemy. All you want to do is hinder my happiness. Stop living in your head and take a prepaid vacation to your heart."

"Harry, if the world ran on emotions, we'd all be dead. If I wanted to get in the way of your happiness, I would have told you the spell ever so long ago. And you know nothing of what I mean when I say that the one I love is dead."

"Oh, I see. Ickle Vicky has stopped writing to you. I guess as soon as Ron died you moved back to him did you. Well, you may not have cared about them, but I cared about… well, you know."

"I wasn't talking about Ron or Victor," Hermione murmured low enough so that Harry could only feel a faint whispering sound in his ears.

"What was that?" Harry asked, beginning to calm down.

"Nothing… nothing," Hermione said, once again quietly but loud enough for Harry to hear.

"Okay. I get it. You're just keeping another huge secret from me," was Harry's harsh accusation.

"Yes, Harry. Just to make you more miserable I've decided to never tell you any of the world's secrets again. That's just my style. Thank you for being so observant!" Hermione's voice disgusted and drenched in sarcasm rang clear.

"Well, I suppose you're welcome. I'd like to say that I agreed with that comment, but it actually took me until right now to realize that you're a bitch. Sorry I couldn't figure it out sooner."

Hermione, now stifled behind the tears freefalling from every point of her face, could do nothing but gawk before storming out of the room.

For a while, Harry sat alone in silence, mulling over the recent argument that had ensued. He supposed he had gone a tad too far with his comments. He should probably apologize but not before she apologized to him. He looked at the mouse on the table, happily walking along as if it had never fallen into death's cold grasp. This was no inferi spell─ he knew that. He also knew that the spell should be further tested just as Hermione had said. He knew of only one test that would truly show what the spell could do. If he truly wanted to bring his once lover back from the grave, he would need to use this spell and see if a body arose from the depths. He could only hope it would. He had been so longing to be held and to hold in return. He remembered the love they had shared, a private love, sheltered from the world so that no eyes would degenerate their lives. That was the possibly the most brilliant quality of the person─ Harry was always first. Never once did they worry about the fact that they hated to stay locked away, only that Harry did not want publicity or fame, nothing to further ruin his life.

Speeding away on his firebolt, he looked back to se Hermione's teary eyes watching him concernedly. He knew that she was only looking out for his best interest, or at least her opinion of his best interest, and that, overall, she was probably correct in her thoughts. Harry knew that on this particular instance, however, he needed to revive his one true love. He supposed that he could have apparated. It would have made travel much faster and the time away from his love all that much shorter. Yet, he always did prefer to travel by broomstick. It was his true method of transportation, and he could never escape it. Besides, he probably could not have concentrated enough to arrive at Hogsmeade in one piece. It was better that he travel by broom. It was safer and it gave him time to calm himself.

Landing safely in Hogsmeade, Harry began the walk towards the school he could once call home. He wished that still could. With Dumbledore gone though, nothing ever felt safe anymore. Hermione, the new Transfiguration teacher at the school, was now well on her way to becoming the headmistress, despite her young age of eighteen. She, like McGonagall, was an animagus. She did not turn into the familiar black cat of the old professor; however, she was a cat nonetheless, choosing to become the shape of her feline friend Crookshanks, though, admittedly, a slightly better looking version. The current headmaster, Sturgis Podmore, was a ministry appointee and, thankfully, only temporary. Hermione had already become his deputy headmistress. He would leave when he felt she was ready for the task. That did not matter at the moment though. It was summer time and all had gone to their quaint homes for the vacation. Coming up to the gates, he saw they had been magically sealed. It was no Dumbledore, but he supposed it was decent enough. All the charms here were on Dumbledore's magically sealed school of dreams. It was definitely missing some of the more advanced ones though. With his knowledge of the school's magical seals, he carefully removed the charms and jinxes as to remain undetected by any who may have seen him approach the school.

Entering the grounds, Harry looked out to the Quidditch pitch. That was where the grave could be found. As he drew ever closer, he saw the tombstone, still yellow and black, albeit a much more faded hue. Now kneeling before the burial site, Harry removed long dead flowers, replacing them with a flick of his wand. It seemed as if even the parents of the dead forgot their offspring eventually. Harry could not forget. Harry had seen the death played over in his head a thousand times and another million after that. Each time he thought of that moment, it only seemed to get worse. Now, he could finally erase the past, or at least escape it.

Died to the wand of a traitor and coward,

A braver more sincere soul shall never be found

In memory of Cedric Diggory

A friend, true until the end

Harry read the words on the headstone of his boyfriend's grave for the first time. He had been unable to make himself come here after the fact, even after four years. He should have told the world. He would this time. He loved Cedric and he didn't care who knew. It was their time now. Only briefly had they been going out when Voldemort and his vile servant Peter Pettigrew, or more appropriately, Wormtail, had killed him. Harry, now highly anxious, raised his wand and pointed at the ground beneath him. Slowly, he began to utter the chant that he and Hermione had worked so hard to produce, or rather, he had. Could she be right? Was he doing the wrong thing? No, he needed Cedric. This was his only chance at happiness. "Revivisco Viviscerius Vixio Cadavestum Erisia." It was done. At first he could sense no movement─ no attempt at escape. He knew he would never stop his hoping, but he had given up for the moment. Slowly, he backed away, still looking for any signs of movement. They came. Only a yard away from his lover, Harry darted back when a hand emerged from the dirt filled depths of the Earth. Cedric had been restored to life, and Harry was suddenly filled with joy that he thought had escaped him forever. He pulled Cedric up to the sunlight where he basked in his joy.

Suddenly, however, it faded. As he looked at he boy he loved, he realized that he had only brought back the pulse, not the once beautiful body that had belonged to him. His rotting flesh remained with each bug that had been eating him from his casket stayed in place. Cedric opened what remained of his eyes, apparently still able to use them without any difficulties. He looked at his surroundings and at himself, and as far as Harry could tell, Cedric did not seem to mind the state of his body. When Cedric finally realized who was in front of him, he gasped, swallowing a cockroach in the process, though he seemed to not notice that either. Cedric lurched forward in an attempt to embrace Harry for the first time in ages, but Harry, unable to control his instincts, leaped back in disgust. Cedric was immediately confused by such a reaction and called Harry into question.

"Harry, that is you, right? Don't you recognize me? We haven't been together in so long. Aren't you happy to see me?" he rattled.

"O-of course I am Cedric, but you can't expect me not to be a little repulsed can you? I mean, you're covered in insects of all sorts."

"What are you talking about, Harry? There's no such thing on me at all, let alone covering me. What's wrong, Harry? Be honest with me."

"You mean you can't see them? Cedric, you've been dead for four years. I brought you back to life with a spell I invented. It's just that you're body came up exactly as it was in the grave."

"I know I've been dead, but I look no different than I did the day I died."

"Actually, you look quite different. You're missing your entire left leg and there's a gaping hole in your stomach. Can you honestly not see it?"

"No, I can't. I wish I could. Well, not really, but I wish I could understand what's happening. Maybe because I stopped aging when I died, I see what there was at that point in my life. You though, you see what I am because time has passed for you. I guess you don't want to be with me anymore. If that's so I won't blame you. I might have felt that way myself."

"I can't just let you go Cedric. You may look strange now but you could be fixed. I mean, I'm not saying you aren't fine now but… well."

"I understand, Harry. You don't have to mince words with me. Let's just sit here and talk a while since I'm in such a horrid state."

"Alright, I could do that."

So the old couple sat and talked. However, as they talked Harry couldn't help notice that Cedric seemed to have changed. He wasn't as Harry remembered him. He was still nice, but he wasn't the Cedric that Harry had fallen for in his fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Then, he remembered a quote Hermione had told him in days gone by. It was something along the lines of one person saying the other had changed and then having it reversed upon themselves─ he couldn't remember it exactly. He supposed it applied here though. If Cedric had not passed through time after his death, then he had not a chance to change. This was the same Cedric that Harry had fallen in love with. Harry was the one who had changed. In his years of fighting Voldemort he had grown considerably. It was the same Cedric, just a different reaction to him. Suddenly, Harry knew that he had only one option. Hermione had been right. This was no way to solve the problems of the world. He had to reverse his actions. With a subtle movement, his wand pointed to an unnoticing Cedric, and his mouth spoke the killing curse. He managed to catch Cedric's final word, pardon. Even in death, Cedric was polite as ever, always letting Harry speak, even at the cost of never speaking himself.

Harry watched Cedric's body go back underground without disturbing the Earth beneath him. He wondered if Dumbledore had know that this day would come and had placed a special enchantment on this grave or if all would have been like this. Walking away from Cedric for the final time, Harry made his way back to Hogsmeade. He stopped at the Three Broomsticks, where he was greeted by the celebrity-obsessed Horace Slughorn, potions master at Hogwarts. They chatted briefly, although Harry was never too far from a distraction during the chat. After a short while, he went back outside and mounted his broom, making his way back to his home in London, where he shared an apartment with his only friend left in the world, Hermione.

(Now, there are two endings to this story and I couldn't decide which one I liked better. The original one was good but rather sad and the second one that came to me isn't quite as brilliant or innovating but it is a much happier ending. To solve my dilemma, I decided to put both endings in. You can choose to read one or the other or you can read both, it's your choice. If you do read both tell me which one you liked better when, not if, you review. The first section will be the original/sad ending and the second will be the happy ending that everybody says awwwwww to).

1)He arrived after a short while, his broomstick was much faster than the Hogwarts Express, and unlocked the door to the two-bedroom apartment, expecting to see an angry Hermione with an I-told-you-so look on her face. What he got was an unexpected hug immediately upon entry.

"Oh, Harry. I was so worried about you. I'm sorry I got so upset before. I should have known that this was something you would really want. I should have tried to talk to you before, but I hid it all. I stuffed it up on the highest shelf in the closet and hoped you would never find it, but you opened the door and got hit with it right in the face."

"Thanks for the vivid picture, Hermione. And thanks for understanding. You were right though. It was a bad idea. I'm sorry I didn't listen. I guess I'll just have to live with the pain."

"Oh, don't say that Harry. It may never fade entirely, and I should hope it doesn't, but in time it won't seem so hard. I know you Harry. You're strong. You'll conquer this."

"I hope you're right, Hermione. One thing's for sure. It will take a while. Maybe we can get over our losses together, Cedric for me and Ron for you."

"Yeah, maybe," Hermione added comfortingly. She thought of what Harry had said. Maybe they would get over their lost love together. Maybe her own love wasn't lost after. Harry, after all, hadn't died on the outside, just on the inside. Maybe in time, when he could move past Cedric, he would love her. She knew one thing was for sure. She had never stopped loving The Boy Who Lived.

2)As Harry rode back, he brought hi broom higher into the clouds. Maybe he needed the tears of the heavens to stop his own. Be that the case or not, the crying slowly ceased. He looked at the ground below him, far beneath him. If he were to slip he could never survive. If he were to jump, he would never be missed, or so he thought. Suddenly, all he felt was the wind on his cheeks tearing away at his skin. He fell, further and further and then he felt something strange. He was almost to the ground when he rose up quickly with a jerky movement. He felt a sharp intake of breath as the ice cold air around him entered his lungs. He wasn't in the streets plummeting to his death. As he looked around he realized this and found himself lying in bed. It was just a dream. He looked over and saw it was empty, causing him to feel lonely once more. Then, he began to remember where he was. He remembered the life he had led up to this very point. It had been ten years since he had defeated Voldemort. He got out of his bed, no longer feeling depressed and upset. Checking in the bathroom, Harry saw what he needed at the moment. There was Cedric, his husband, getting a glass of water

Cedric turned around to find Harry standing and watching him. "What is it, babe?" Cedric asked.

"I just had a bad dream. I'm a little shaken is all. Nothing to worry about."

"Yes it is. How many times do I have to tell you? If you're upset, I'm here for you. I'll be back in a few seconds and you can tell me all about it, eh? Besides, I haven't gotten much alone time with you lately."

"Alright, fine. If I always have to be so open with you. Sometimes I just can't stand that you love me so much."

"I know what you mean. It's been getting real hard on me lately. Sometimes I feel like I love you too much. If only I knew that you felt the same way," Cedric commented, responding to sarcasm with sarcasm.

Harry walked back to bed and looked at the picture on his nightstand. Ron and Hermione stood together with their two children and Harry couldn't help but smile. When Cedric came back moments later Harry told him all about the dream. He couldn't help but be comforted by Cedric's sympathy. Harry had a fair amount of bad dreams. It wasn't enough to be called frequent but they weren't uncommon either. Cedric never seemed to mind, though. He was always willing to wake up at any hour of the morning and listen to every detail. It was a wonderful feeling to know that someone was that committed to you. This night was no different and soon Harry found himself safely tucked away in Cedric's arms for one more night and one more happy moment.