Sleep had never been something Harry Potter was very good at, and you really couldn't blame him. The first eleven years of his life had been spent in almost permanent misery, as he was treated horribly by his uncle, aunt and bully of a cousin, unpopular at school, and generally dreading getting up in the morning. Once he'd turned eleven, found out he was a wizard and left his "family's" house for Hogwarts, his life improved beyond measure and he was finally happy, but there was still plenty to worry about. That's what happened when, beyond tests and student rivalry, you had to deal with certain other things - like protecting the Sorcerer's Stone from one of your professors, catching the heir of Slytherin before he kills your best friend's sister, revealing the truth about who helped the Dark Lord murder your parents, or surviving the Triwizard Tournament. Add to that the occasional nightmare where a flash of green light would leave Harry an orphan, even though he could remember nothing else about the night where he lost his parents, and it's quite obvious why "The Boy Who Lived" often yawned his way all through breakfast and morning classes.

However, the insomnia Harry had suffered from when dealing with all of the aforementioned problems did not measure up to what he was going through right now, his last night at Hogwarts this year before returning to the Dursleys for another torturous couple of months. Ever since the Triwizard Tournament had ended, he slept very little, save for the first night when Dumbledore had given him a potion for dreamless sleep. The trauma Harry had suffered that night was going to haunt him for a long time, if not forever. He'd been bound to Voldemort's father's grave; his wrist had been cut open to draw blood for Voldemort's resurrection; Voldemort, showing no mercy, dueled with him until Harry was on the brink of death. Then, by near miracle, Priori Incantatem occurred and saved Harry's life. He managed, just barely, to escape back to Hogwarts, taking with him the dead body of an older boy who should have never died - if only because he should have never been transported with Harry to that accursed graveyard to begin with.

And that had been the worst part of the trauma.

***

Every night in my dreams
I see you, I feel you
That is how I know you
Go on

***

More than anything else that took place that night, Harry was haunted by what had happened to Cedric Diggory, a boy who'd been murdered simply due to literally being at the wrong place at the wrong time. It had unraveled so fast. One second he was standing beside Harry, alive and well, if somewhat frightened; the next, an all too familiar flash of green light left him lifelessly lying on the ground, his beautiful gray eyes expressionless, his heart no longer beating. That was also when Harry's heart was shattered to pieces he didn't know whether he'd ever pick up. Perhaps the cruelest aspect of it all was that Harry was not allowed the minor courtesy of grieving over him right there; instead, he was pulled into a battle for survival and only barely won. At times, Harry wondered if it wouldn't have actually been better for him to just die right there, along with Cedric. He had no idea how the afterlife worked and whether he'd see Cedric again, but he supposed that at worst, death meant no longer feeling anything – and he'd take that over what he was feeling right now. On top of it all, he just didn't understand where this horrible injustice had come from; he, Harry, had faced death more times than the rest of Gryffindor put together (except perhaps Ron and Hermione since they had accompanied him in some of his quests), and always lived to tell the tale. Cedric had probably never been in mortal danger other than in the Triwizard tasks, and had certainly never faced Lord Voldemort before – for Harry it had been the fourth time. Why did Cedric have to die? Why had the scales of fate always tipped in Harry's favour when his own survival was involved, but then turned their back on him when it came to the person he loved most?

That question and others tugged at Harry's mind relentlessly as he lay in his four poster at the dormitory, turning around over and over again, unable to fall asleep. Of course, the last night before the summer holidays was always a particularly difficult night to fall asleep, since Harry was facing the worst time of the year (in complete contrast to all the other students). But it wasn't the prospect of once again returning to the Dursleys' house that was keeping him awake, of course; it was the thought of Cedric. Harry insisted to himself that he couldn't keep casting his mind back to this. Cedric was gone, and no matter how much he cried about it, no matter how much he reminisced over their all too short time together, no matter what he did – Harry was not going to bring him back, only reinforce the pain that was hard enough to numb as it was. He stubbornly told himself to do anything except think of Cedric. He started counting sheep, as silly as that might sound, because he was too tired to actually do any rational thinking about something else. Besides, what could he think about right now that wouldn't make him miserable? Eventually, exhaustion took over him and his eyes closed.

***

Far across the distance
And spaces between us
You have come to show you
Go on

***

Opening his eyes groggily, Harry looked around. He jumped to his feet, startled. He was not in his bed, but rather in the middle of the Quidditch field. He was not wearing his pajamas, either, but his Quidditch uniform. He quickly panicked. What was going on? How had he gotten here? The fact that he was worried about this obviously meant he wasn't dreaming, but how could he not be? Harry shivered when he remembered what happened the last time he had suddenly found himself in another place. But there was no way a Portkey had just sent him from his bed to the bloody Quidditch field! Especially as Portkeys didn't change your clothes, or turn night to day. All of a sudden, Harry heard footsteps behind him. For a second, his panic grew as he was reminded of another detail from that tragic night at the graveyard: the sound of Wormtail coming near. But these footsteps sounded different, they were softer and slower. Harry looked over his shoulder; the person approaching him was as far removed from being Wortmail as possible.

It was Cedric.

***

Near, far, wherever you are
I believe that the heart does go on
Once more, you open the door
And you're here in my heart
And my heart will go on and on

***

Cedric had nearly reached Harry when the initial shock wore off and Harry quickly did the first thing he could think of: pinching himself in the arm, hard. He needed to wake up. He needed to wake up now. This had to be a dream after all, and by dreaming about meeting Cedric again, Harry was only going to hurt himself further.

The pinch did not wake him up. Finally, Cedric was standing before him. Harry forced himself to consider, for a second, the possibility that perhaps this was a shape-shifter of some sort rather than the real Cedric. That thought immediately went away. Even if someone had assumed Cedric's appearance via magic, they could never imitate the light in his eyes, the subtle, barely noticeable smile he was wearing, or the soft tone in which he spoke.

"I'm sorry if I scared you."

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, and all that came out eventually was, "Cedric?"

Cedric nodded.

"But how? What's going on? I'm – I'm dreaming, right?"

"Yes," Cedric allowed, "But it's a real dream."

"What d'you mean a – "

"When you die, you can visit one person one last time," Cedric explained quietly. "I can't tell you anything else. Anyway, the thing is… I waited until now because what happened to you the night I died was terrible, and I just couldn't overwhelm you with anything else."

"You're telling me what happened to me was terrible?" Harry spoke slowly and with disbelief. "You died, Cedric."

"I know, but look at what Voldemort did to you," Cedric explained. There was some sort of heavenly serenity in his voice, even as he spoke about this. "That lightning on your forehead is no longer the only scar you've got, physical or mental. And on top of it all, we lost each other that night, without a warning."

Harry nodded, but the confusion was still evident on his face. "So, if you could see just one person, why not your Mom or Dad?" he asked.

"I got to say goodbye to them before I entered the maze," Cedric said. "Of course, we didn't have any idea that it would be our last goodbye ever, but it was something. The last thing I ever got to say to you was asking if we should take out our wands."

Another shiver went through Harry's spine, accompanying the memory of his last moments with Cedric.

"I just had to say goodbye to you, properly," Cedric continued. "That's the least we both deserve."

Once again, Harry nodded wordlessly. It was difficult for him to come up with anything to say. He decided to just give up on words and latched onto Cedric, hugging him so tightly that he could have suffocated the other boy if he was actually alive. Cedric gladly clung on to him.

"I miss you so much…" Harry sobbed into Cedric's shoulder, not bothering to hold back his tears. If only it was possible for him to stay in Cedric's arms forever… Let us stay like this, Harry thought desperately. Don't let this dream end, and I promise I'll never ask for anything else. Of course he had no idea who he was talking to; it didn't really matter to him at the moment.

"Me too," Cedric whispered. When they finally let go, Cedric bent his head down to rest his forehead against Harry's, then gently pressed their lips together. Harry didn't know if they were literally in heaven, but figuratively, he sure was. He didn't know how long the kiss lasted – once again getting to feel Cedric's tongue lightly caressing his, and to put his arms around Cedric's neck as Cedric's held him at the lower back, wiped the concept of time away from his mind. Did time even exist wherever they were?

***

Love can touch us one time, and last for a lifetime
And never let go till we're gone
Love was when I loved you, one true time I hold to
In my life we'll always go on

***

The wonderful kiss they shared did have to come to an end as well. When it did, they looked longingly into each other's eyes. Harry's mind was starting to work properly again, and he remembered that soon, he'd have to once again let go of Cedric; that this time, it'll surely be forever. He forced himself not to start crying again. He didn't want to add to Cedric's pain by showing his in full measure.

"Apart from saying goodbye, Harry, there was something else I wanted to tell you… or ask from you, maybe," Cedric eventually told him. This time, there was some hesitation and tentativeness in his tone.

"Whatever you need," Harry said. He had risked his life to return Cedric's body to Mr. and Mrs. Diggory, after all. There was nothing he wouldn't do for Cedric.

"Well…" Cedric started, and it was clear he wasn't sure how to put this. "You know, Harry, I was only seventeen when I died. I have no idea what it's like to be old."

"Yeah," Harry nodded, not sure where Cedric was going.

"What I'm trying to say is, I don't know what it feels like to be really old, to look back at your entire life and remember times when you were young. But I'm pretty sure that… if you're old, and your youth is way behind you… it's horrible if suddenly, one day, you realize that you wasted your life away. That there's no going back, that you can't change wrong decisions you made. I mean, I know there are Time Turners, but barely anyone's allowed to use them, so – "

"Cedric," Harry interrupted. He waited for a second to see if Cedric didn't mind him going on, and continued. "I don't understand… what are you talking about?"

Cedric sighed. "Like I said, I want to ask you to do something, and I know even talking about it so soon after my death would seem odd - you shouldn't be in any rush. You should take all the time you need to recover. Besides, you're not even fifteen…" he paused for a moment. "Harry, promise me that you'll find love and spend you life with someone. I don't want you to look back at everything when you're old and realize that since Voldemort took away your first love, you made the mistake of never looking for another one."

Harry stared at him, his mouth hanging open. He had had no idea what request Cedric was going to make, but he certainly hadn't expected anything like this.

"Listen…" he said slowly. "I can't. I can't just pretend like you and I never had anything, or get together with someone else like nothing ever happened, or…"

"I'm not telling you to," Cedric shook his head. "Of course I don't want you to forget about us. But I don't want the memory of us to deprive you of love for your entire life, either." After a moment's silence he added, "I'm only asking you to do this when you're ready, which might be a couple of months from now, or a year, or when you graduate, or anytime. Why don't you try, I don't know, asking Ginny Weasley out? I know you really like her."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I don't want Ginny, I want YOU!" he basically shouted. He couldn't stop some more tears from escaping his eyes.

A few tears were now running down Cedric's face, too. "What do you want me to say, Harry?" he asked.

Harry didn't answer. They both knew what he wanted Cedric to say, what he wished Cedric could say.

"You know I'd do anything to come back. You'd be reason enough for me to do it, even without everything else in my life…" he looked deep into Harry's emerald eyes, willing him to look back into Cedric's eyes and see what he was saying right there, in case hearing it didn't convince him.

"I want you to be happy," Cedric went on. "It'll help me rest in peace."

"I don't know if I can be happy without you," Harry said, his voice choked.

"Promise me you'll try?" Cedric gently pleaded.

Harry relented and nodded, even though it didn't seem to him at the moment that he could possibly do what Cedric had asked of him. Neither of them said anything for a few moments.

"Just out of curiousity," Harry decided to ask, "Why does this place look like the Quidditch field? And why do I have my uniform on?"

"Oh," Cedric said and laughed a little, that cheerful, carefree laugh that had won Harry's heart the moment he first heard it. "Well, I was told that when you make that last visit to the person you choose, the scenery reflects a place that's meaningful to your relationship."

Harry had just realized that Cedric, too, was clad in his Quidditch uniform. He looked around at the empty field. "I know we're both Seekers, but all we did here was play each other once," he slightly quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but… this is where we actually met," Cedric said thoughtfully. "I mean, okay, I'd seen you before in the corridors and everything, and even here all we did was play Quidditch, but that's when I saw you up close for the first time. I think I already felt something back then, when we were flying side by side…" he trailed off.

"Lucky the weather isn't the same, though, isn't it?" Harry grinned and looked up at the clear sky, where the sun was shining brilliantly. They both laughed.

"Harry, it's a good thing we're already on the subject of Quidditch, because I want to give you something," Cedric said. He put his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a small brown package that wasn't much bigger than a Snitch.

"What's that?" Harry wondered as he took the package from Cedric.

"My mom gave me this before the third task," Cedric explained to him. "She told me to put it on for good luck, but I forgot."

Harry had a feeling that Cedric wanted to jokingly say he should have listened to his mother, but realized it wouldn't be funny at all.

"So, you want me to have it?"

"Yeah," Cedric nodded. "Just think of it as some sort of souvenir from me. If you want to put it on, go ahead."

Harry had just shoved the package into his own pocket when suddenly, as though he could see something that Harry didn't, Cedric was looking concerned.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"You have to go back, Harry," Cedric said, managing to keep his voice steady only with effort. "We've used up our time."

Apparently, time did exist here, although Harry wasn't sure if it worked the same as on earth. He quickly leaned forward and captured Cedric's lips once more. This would be their last kiss ever… knowing this, he tried as hard as he could to let Cedric know every single emotion he was feeling through the kiss. From the look in Cedric's eyes when their lips finally parted, he knew he had succeeded. It was amazing how they could seemingly talk without using a single word.

Cedric embraced him again. He ruffled Harry's hair a little, and spoke. "Take care of yourself, okay? And Ron, Hermione… everyone. They're lucky to have you."

"I will," Harry assured Cedric. "And hey, if you see my parents, tell them I love them, okay? And, and Bertha Jorkins and that old man… thank them for me, I mean, they helped me against Voldemort too."

"Okay," Cedric said. "I'll never forget you… I swear."

"Me neither," Harry whispered, momentarily burying his face in Cedric's neck.

He then lifted his head so that they were facing each other.

"I love you, Harry," Cedric told him one last time.

"I love you too, Cedric," Harry told him in return.

They spent one final moment holding each other, gazing into each other's eyes and mouthing "goodbye", then Harry was gone as fast as he had arrived.

***

Near, far, wherever you are
I believe that the heart does go on
Once more, you open the door
And you're here in my heart
And my heart will go on and on

***

Harry woke up in his bed and looked around wildly. What was that? He had just dreamt about Cedric somehow coming back from the dead to bid him final goodbye. But it couldn't possibly be real, could it? It was just a dream. There was no way dead people could just pay their loved ones another visit to say things they hadn't had time for when they were alive; it just didn't make sense. And yet… everything was so vivid in Harry's mind. Usually, after you dreamt, the memory of it was all hazy and muddled. But Harry remembered every single detail perfectly, like something that had just happened to him in his waking state. He had no doubt that he wasn't going to forget any of it when the morning came, either. As he was trying to figure out exactly what was going on, Harry lay on his side and suddenly felt something press against the side of his leg. He lay on his back again, reached into his pocket… and found a package there. Gasping in shock, Harry took it out – sure enough, it was the brown package given to him by Cedric; he could make out so much even in the dark.

Excitement flooded his veins and he smiled more broadly and sincerely than he had in quite a while. Pushing himself into a sitting position, Harry remembered that he hadn't even asked Cedric what was inside or what it had to do with Quidditch. He impatiently opened the small package and retrieved a box. Inside, he found a silver necklace that had a tiny Snitch (even smaller than a real one) attached to it. Harry understood… Mrs. Diggory had given it to Cedric because her son loved Seeking so much, and Cedric knew Harry did, too.

For a minute or two, Harry just stared at the necklace. It had to have been made with some magic, because it glittered considerably even when there was no source of light to reflect on it. He then pushed the curtain of his four poster aside and lay the necklace down on his bedside table near his glasses. He still wasn't sure whether he wanted to wear the necklace as Cedric had suggested, but he was going to keep it, there was no doubt about that. Harry lay back down on the bed, pulled the covers over his body and rested his head on the pillow. He found himself staring at the necklace again, and somehow felt a bit of the serenity that Cedric seemed to radiate through much of their brief reunion. Harry's eyes rested on that little Snitch for a while, and then he fell asleep.

***

You're here, there's nothing I fear
And I know that my heart will go on
We'll stay forever this way
You are safe in my heart
And my heart will go on and on