Note: This first chapter is in Cedric's point of view, but I'm planning to switch to Harry's point of view in the next chapter.

Leave a review if you enjoyed, and if you didn't enjoy for a reason concerning my terrible writing style, feel free to leave a critique!

Potter didn't seem normal. His normally very dark brown skin was looking more dull and pale, his face extremely gaunt, skeletal even, and his collarbone was protruding in an extremely alarming way through his uniform shirt. He seemed victim to mood swings, either being extremely passive and submissive or very irritable and fiery. Even his normally frizzy hair was pulled back in an extremely tight bun behind his head like a very curly Pom Pom, which just made his heart shaped face seem even more thin. Students in his house and others whispered about him, usually in more of a malicious manner rather than one of concern like Cedrics. "Heh, Potters really losing it… Guess his plan backfired, huh?" "I don't feel the least bit sorry for the scrawny midget, he's getting exactly what he deserved, the little attention whore."

Cedric usually didn't notice these kinds of things. He prided himself more on being fair and hard working rather than observant, but he had been watching the younger boy since the quidditch match third year closer than he usually tended to watch things, and he couldn't really figure out why… All he knew was that he was alarmed. This wasn't the Harry he was used to… He was always energetic, even if he did act a little to shy for someone with as much fame as him, but Cedric overlooked it. He actually found it endearing. It brought him immense discomfort to see the slighter boy in distress. Even his normally gorgeous bright green eyes were looking duller, with dark smudges of exhaustion beneath them.

It's just… shouldn't Potter be happy? His plan had succeeded, his name had come from the cup and Professor Dumbledore had allowed him to compete. The only reason this couldn't be true was if Harry hadn't, in fact, entered his name, but Cedric highly doubted that. Sure, Potter was timid at times, but how much did Cedric really know about him? All of the papers said he was attention seeking, a rebel. Cedric seriously doubted that he could trust them, though, having met Rita Skeeter; A sly, cunning woman who would do anything to get the front page, even, dare he say, lie about a 14 year old boy?

Everything he knew from actually interacting with Harry discredited what Rita Skeeter said as well. Quiet and slightly reserved, yet kind, ardent, and modest, Harry didn't really seem to fit the picture Skeeter painted of him. Potter had looked very uncomfortable, in fact, when he had come into the back room after his name had come from the goblet. Scared, even. But the boy could handle himself, he was fine…right?

Cedric was jerked out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. The Great Hall was alive with chatter and gossip of various topics such as the champions, the upcoming ball, and the rapidly approaching first task. The dusty blonde haired boy turned to the source of the hand, Ernie Macmillan, a student in Potters year and Cedric's friend. They weren't close per say but Cedric liked him enough. "Take a look at Potter, Ced. He looks like a right mess, don't he?" The fourth year said gleefully. Cedric turned his head to look at the Gryffindor table and was confused by what he saw, if confused was even the right word...

Potter was sitting alone… Where were his friends, or at least Granger? He knew Weasley was having a fit about Potters name spewing from the cup, as was everyone else, but they couldn't stay mad at each other forever, especially with the first task coming nearer. This wasn't the only thing that irked him. Potter's face looked like stone, his brow furrowed and his eyes angry and slightly bloodshot as though he'd been crying. His hair, although still pulled back and just frizzy and messy as it normally was, was also tangled and kinky, strands tucked behind his ears and sticking up from his head. But Cedric couldn't help but find his messy curls attractive…

Oh God. The boy is fourteen. You are three years his senior. What are you doing thinking about him like that? Cedric thought, sure it was just a one time thing and pinching his leg as punishment. He looked back at Ernie. "Come on, mate, don't talk about him like that. I thought you were his friend?" Ernie looked offended at that. "Sure, I used to think he was alright, but that was before the goblet. He could trip off the Astronomy tower and I wouldn't have one thing to say about it." The younger Hufflepuff said savagely, but Cedric doubted this was completely sincere. Cedric felt an odd pang in his chest at the insults being thrown at the dark haired boy but suppressed it quickly.

"Well, I don't exactly believe he didn't put his name in the cup, I'll give you that. It was a bit inconsiderate of him, but he's obviously made a mistake and bitten off more than he could chew, and I think we owe it to him to maybe leave him alone after what happened in his second year." He said, reminiscing about the Chamber of Secrets fiasco. "Besides, isn't the entire point of our house that we're fair and just or whatnot? You wouldn't wanna shame Helga Hufflepuff, would you?" He teased under the guise of nobility rather than concern for Potter. Ernie gave a sigh of endearment. "Always the noble man, Ced. All right, I'll leave him alone, but good luck convincing the others to quit teasing him." Ernie said, looking at the other students flashing their Potter Stinks pins toward the Gryffindor Table. "And I can't promise I won't wear those Support Diggory badges." He added as an afterthought.

Cedric rolled his eyes. "Guess I'll have to settle for that." He said, making up his mind. He was going to confront Potter. Of course, it was just him watching out for his fellow champion. Nothing else. Nothing at all.

Right as lessons got out Cedric rushed down to the potions dungeon to catch Potter before the fourth years left, which was a little later. He really hoped Potter hadn't skived off, he had noticed the green eyed boy had developed a habit of skipping potions and he couldn't quite blame him. Snape wasn't exactly the most friendly teacher, especially when it came to Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, and a certain survivor of the killing curse who shan't be named. Right as he got there, though, he bumped into the small body of Colin Creevey, a tiny third year with a smaller first year brother. He remembered him, having had his picture taken by a muggle camera without his consent the second his name spewed from the goblet.

"Oh, Cedric! Perfect, this is excellent. I was just going to get you and Harry, you're needed for the weighing of the wands. Your pictures will be taken and you're gonna be interviewed by the real Rita Skeeter!" Creevey looked extremely giddy, a maniacal glint in his eyes. "Isn't she amazing? I want to be like her someday, taking pictures like that, writing articles that influence the wizarding world…" Cedric wanted to say that Skeeter didn't actually take her own pictures, but now wasn't the time. He guessed he would see Potter sooner than later. "Just wait out here, okay? I'll go get Harry." Before the Hufflepuff could answer, the little Gryffindor entered the potions classroom, the door slamming shut behind him. Cedric winced… Snape was going to give him a good telling off.

About thirty seconds later, Potter and Creevey exitted the classroom, the fourth year's face noticeably red. Cedric saw the 'Potter Stinks' badges flashing from the inside of the classroom and loud guffaws coming from Slytherins… Yeesh, even though he believed that a house didn't determine your character, Malfoy was really something. He turned his eyes to Harry, who was even more flushed as he saw Cedric. "Cedric, Harry. Harry, Cedric. Now we better run, I was supposed to have you at the wand weighing three minutes ago!" Colin said, glancing at his clunky muggle watch.

As they walked to the spare classroom where photos would take place, an awkward silence fell upon them. Cedric tried to speak up, his voice coming out collected and calm, even though he felt anything but. "So, Harry, how do you think you'll do in the wand weighing? Take care of it?" Cedric asked, glancing down at the shorter boy. Harry looked up at Cedric, his face a bit less red. He noticed that Harry bit his lip, smoothing down his untamed hair, which immediately bounced back up again. Potter fidgeted with the tie pulling back his mane.

"Um… I think I'll do okay, yeah. I don't really polish my wand or anything, but it works great." He said quietly, looking down at his wand, which was covered in smudged fingerprints, as well as several small nicks and scratches. "The only thing I'm really nervous about is the pictures… If I had known that would happen today I wouldn't have come looking like such a mess." He said. "Besides, I never show up on pictures with shit lighting. My skin is too dark, it's like concrete…" The boy mumbled, flushing once again. Cedric was slightly shocked. Harry never seemed insecure about something like his skin tone, something Cedric found so gorgeous...

"I don't think your skin is concrete." Cedric blurted. Oh God, what was that? He was about to apologize when Cedric noticed a small smile tugging at Harry's lips. The short fourth year pulled his hair back tighter. "Thanks…" He said, looking at his feet. They walked in silence until they finally arrived at their destination, and Colin parted with a wave and a wish of good luck.

Cedric and Harry drank in the scene. Five chairs sat behind a velvet covered desk, each with one of the judges sitting in them. Ludo Bagman was present with a magenta robed witch that Cedric recognized as Rita Skeeter. He was surprised that there was no recognition in Harry's eyes at the sight of the reporter. Didn't he know her? She had published interview upon interview with Harry before… Cedric suspicion that Skeeter was a fabricator of news was growing more and more. Bagman bounded towards Harry, immediately bursting into conversation that Cedric couldn't help but eavesdrop on. "Ah, here he is! Champion number four! In you come, Harry, in you come… You to, Mr. Diggory. Nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment…" They continued their conversation until Skeeter approached. "Oh, Harry, this is Rita Skeeter. She's a reporter for the Prophet, and very famous one at that. She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet." "Maybe not that small, Ludo…" She said, her bespectacled eyes fixed on Harry, who looked slightly uncomfortable. The 14 year old didn't have time to say hello.

"Could I have a word with Harry?" Skeeter said, cutting to the chase. "I suppose, as long as it's okay with him…" Ludo said, nodding at the child. "I'd rather not-" He began before being cut off. "Great, follow my lead." She said, grabbing Harry's robed arm. Before she could pull the boy away Cedric placed a hand on her shoulder. "He said no." He said firmly. "Just, maybe you should listen to him…" He said, looking down at the boy, who was staring at Cedric with wide, grateful eyes. She stared at Cedric in shock before a small smirk appeared on her face. "Fine, then… We'll talk later, Harry." She said, looking the boy up and down before walking off, her heels clicking.

After that, the weighing of the wands commenced normally. Krum was brooding as usual, and Fleur was being her normal, French self. Harry seemed to be in a more passive mood and Cedric was trying to think of what he would say to him at the end of the interview. "Photos, Dumbledore, Photos! Rita, why don't we take a group shot, and then a few individual ones?" He said enthusiastically. "Er, yes, let's do those first- After that, I'd like a private shoot with Mr. Potter and Diggory."

Photos progressed slowly. They had to reshoot over and over again as Madame Maxime was constantly out of frame, overshadowing the entire rest of the group, and was refusing to crouch down. "I am not a dog! Zis is humiliation!" She would shout. Karkaroff tried to convince Krum to smile, but he had to settle for a halfhearted smirk instead. Fleur tried to stand in front but Skeeter was dead set on having Harry there despite his objections. "Let your hair down, Potter, it'll make for a much more casual picture! You don't need to be so tense." She said, pushing Harry in between Cedric and Karkaroff in an uncomfortable manner.

Cedric was most confused by the private photos she had taken of Harry and him together, but he consented nevertheless. After all, only in those photos did Harry smile the smallest of smiles, and, shockingly, made an effort to remove the dark smudges under his eyes. Cedric threw his arm over Harry's shoulder, grinning contentedly. Maybe Skeeter wasn't so bad after all…

When all was finished, Harry made haste to leave, but Cedric snagged him at the last moment, his 'mission' in mind. Harry stood, leaning back against the wall, his hands in his pockets. He was looking down at his feet. "What's up, Cedric?" He asked, glancing up at him before returning his eyes to his sneakers. "Well, I was… I was just wondering… Are you okay?" He asked, finally spitting it out. Harry whipped his head up, his grass green eyes slightly widened. "Like… What do you mean?" He asked. "Well… It's just… You've seemed so much different. You never have your hair down, your always tired, and you're terribly thin and pale… I was kind of worried about what you said about your skin, to. Like… Shouldn't you be happy? You're a champion, I would be happy if I was your age. You succeeded, you got y-"

Harry's face turned cranberry red, his eyes narrowing. "Do you think I put my name in the goblet?" He said, stepping closer to the wall and refusing to meet the 7th years eyes. "Well, Harry… What do you expect?" He said, kind of surprised at the normally timid boy. "I expected you to believe me! To be my friend! I thought that you…" Harry's voice trailed off and he looked down at his hands before finally looking into Cedric's pale blue eyes. "Why did you treat me so nice if you don't think I'm telling the truth?" He finally whispered, his voice angry, yet tinged with confusion. The champion was shocked, this wasn't what he had planned. He opened his mouth but Harry wasn't having it. "Thank you for your concern, Cedric, but I am fine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to dinner" Harry said vehemently, tearing his eyes from Cedric. The blonde Hufflepuff wanted so dearly to ask "Why? It's not like you'll eat anything." but he knew better. The curly haired boy threw his bag over his shoulder and stalked off, turning the corner quickly and vanishing from sight.

Cedric lingered for a moment. Potter's words bounced off the walls of his head. Why did you treat me so nice if you don't think I'm telling the truth? Truth be told, Cedric didn't know why… maybe he really was stuck on Potter, a fourteen year old. Whatever. All he knew for sure was that he had blown his chance.

He hoped Potter was stuck on him.

Harry practically threw himself onto the bench, his eyes stinging with tears that he refused to let anyone see. He fixed his eyes onto his plate which had a meager amount of vegetables spread around it. Harry hardly ate it, stirring his plate and mashing up his carrots despite the hunger gnawing at the inside of his stomach. His throat wasn't really working properly, a sob bubbling up that he swallowed down painfully.

He stared at the feast longingly, watching as others piled food onto their plates, chatting with their friends animatedly. He tried to focus on his goal, why he was doing this… Tar skinned… Concrete… Midnight… A gorgeous face wasted on someone like you… Someone like him, someone who had let them do that to him, didn't… No, couldn't deserve food. Couldn't deserve to live a normal life.

He thought back to Hermione, who was stuck in the hospital wing getting her teeth fixed. He longed to sit in there with her, safe from everyone, safe from Diggory and his influence on him, who he had almost spilled his guts to… How did Cedric do that to him? How did he make him feel so safe when Harry was so scared of him?

And why did Harry kind of like it?