Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or story of Harry Potter. If I did, I would never have killed Cedric.
Author's Note: You will find that my preface is very much a retelling of the movie version of Goblet of Fire, but from Cedric's point of view. This is because I love Robert Pattinson's performance in the movie. He brings such a likeability to an otherwise two-dimensional character. However, the rest of the story will go along with the book version of Order of the Phoenix, aside from the bits that I have added with Cedric. You'll understand when I get that far. It is rather self-explanatory. However, it will take a little while to get into the Cedric centric areas that are separate from the book, so please bear with me. Also, this is a Cedric/Hermione pairing, but it takes time to get into that as well. Again, please bear with me. Reviews are very appreciated and I admit I thrive on constructive criticism. Thanks!!!
Silver
Preface
Anger overtook him as he ducked out of the way of the bright green spark. He could not help the onslaught of rage at the very idea that the Bulgarian had had the nerve to attack him. What the hell did he think he was doing? It was dirty. It was underhanded. It had almost worked. His gray eyes narrowed as he righted his stance and Viktor Krum took aim at him again. A great rambling came bustling through the hedges as Harry Potter emerged directly in between the two older wizards, landing directly in the path of Krum's hex. Cedric reacted instinctively.
"Get down!" he called even as Krum's curse narrowly missed him and he faltered a few steps, repeating to Harry, "Get down!"
Harry hit the ground instantly and Cedric wasted not a moment after that, "Expelliarmus!" The blue colored defensive spell hit Krum square in the chest and knocked him to the flat of his back. Without a second's hesitation, Cedric charged, running straight past Harry to the fallen Bulgarian. He kicked the wand from Krum's hand and, sucking choking breaths of air in through his teeth, he struggled to see past the red, to find some clarity between his confusion and rage. Rage won out and he raised his wand with every intention of doing irreparable damage to the unconscious wizard before him. Suddenly, Harry was there with his hands wrapped around Cedric's forearm, tugging at it violently.
"No!" He cried, "Don't! Stop! He's bewitched, Cedric!"
Glaring, Cedric shoved the younger boy to the ground, "Get off me!"
"He's bewitched!" Harry repeated, but Cedric had already taken off in the opposite direction, his mind focusing once again to the objective at hand; obtaining the cup.
Harry was hot on his heels and when they made to turn a corner in the maze, the fourth year ducked ahead of him. Gritting his teeth, Cedric surged forward. He would have none of that! He caught Harry by the back of the jersey and slammed him into one of the maze walls, propelling himself ahead of the smaller boy. It seemed Harry was just as determined as he was though, catching a handful of Cedric own shirt, causing him to lose two steps. They rounded another corner and both came to a halt. A smile spread across Cedric's lips and he heard Harry exclaim quietly to himself, "Yes." There, just ahead of them, in all its glory, was the cup. They each caught a glimpse of each other from the corners of their eyes and launched themselves at the exact same moment. Surging ahead on his long legs, Cedric managed to gain a full three steps in front of Harry. However, branches and leaves from the maze hedges continued to attack him, slapping him in the face, over and over so that he could not see where he was running. He was suddenly tripped up on one of those blasted vine-like roots, which brought him painfully to the ground. The tentacles did not stop at merely bringing him down. They wrapped around his legs, his body until he was unable to escape, unable to move, unable to breathe. Harry passed him by without hesitation. Fear choked him. It was going to get him. It would not stop. He would suffocate within the walls of the hellacious maze. This did not feel like another obstacle meant to keep him from his objective. The vines that were now tangled around his limbs were going to squeeze him until he died, they were going to crush the very life out of him.
"Harry!" He called, his voice trembling. He did not care anymore for the cup. He wanted to see his father again. He wanted out of this bloody maze, out of this tournament. It was too much. The cup was not worth this. "Harry!" He called again. Harry stood twenty meters away, looking back and forth between him and the cup as if going through some inner struggle. Cedric did not want him to have an inner struggle right now, he could have that later. Right now, he needed the boy to act. "Harry!" He repeated, the only last desperate time, "Harry!"
All at once, Harry seemed to make up his mind. He aimed his wand at Cedric and screamed, "Reducto!" Instantly, the vines that imprisoned him went limp and he was able to move again. Harry was by his side in less than a second, pulling at the roots along with him, helping him to break free. Together, they managed to rip his body from their knotted grasp and Harry pulled him to his feet. Cedric stood there for a moment, catching his breath, trying to ease the sharp edge of the fear that had just a moment ago been strangling him.
"Th—thanks." He said, still trying to regain control of his breathing.
"No problem." Harry said.
Neither one of them moved. Cedric forced a smile, "You know, for a moment there, I thought you were—you were gonna let it get me."
Looking down Harry replied quickly, "For a moment, so did I." Then he brought his gaze up to meet Cedric's.
"Cedric believed him. He was not certain that, had the situation been reversed, he would have gone back to help the young Gryffindor. He liked to think he would have but it was one of those situations that you never knew the answer to unless it actually happened. They stood there another moment and Cedric remembered Dumbledore's warning about the maze and how it changes people. He was seeing that first hand now. This entire tournament was changing him. He felt that the same had to be true for young Harry Potter. Neither of them were the same people that they had been when they had met up earlier that year at the Quidditch World Cup. He knew that to be true, especially when he thought back to Krum. He had cheered for him at the cup, and moments ago, he had wanted to hex him into the next world. He cast a calm but unsteady gaze to Harry, "Some game, huh?"
Harry looked away as though unable to meet his eyes and agreed, "Some game."
They both heard the ominous crunching that came with the shifting of the maze hedges and another violent burst of wind started up. Cedric grabbed Harry by the upper arm and shoved him forward, "Go!"
The two boys ran, side by side now until they reached the circle where the cup sat, gleaming temptingly at them. Cedric looked at Harry, "Go on, take it." He demanded, "You saved me! Take it!"
Harry looked from Cedric, to the cup, back to where the wind raged angrily toward them, then back to Cedric, "Together!" He said, "One…"
Cedric didn't want to argue. He wanted out of that hellish maze, so he joined the count.
"Two…three!"
They leapt forward and each took hold of the cup. Cedric felt the familiar hook in the belly-button sensation as the cup sucked them through the air. Unprepared for the sudden travel, he was also unprepared for the landing and came down hard on the flat of his back, the cup flying out of his hand to land some distance away. Gauging his own condition to be fine, his concern shifted immediately to the boy with him. "You okay?" He asked.
Harry was already climbing to his feet, "Yeah. You?"
Cedric didn't reply. Instead he staggered to his own feet in attempt to get a better view of his surroundings. They seemed to be in a graveyard. Absentmindedly, he place both hands on his hips and let his gaze sweep from side to side. Perhaps it was still part of the tournament. "Where are we?" he asked aloud, though he was speaking more to himself than to Harry.
Harry had begun to wander a few steps away, so Cedric countered his movements, investigating in the other direction, making his way over to the Triwizard Cup.
"I've been here before." Harry said, though Cedric had the feeling that he was not necessarily speaking to him.
Cedric kneeled by the cup, feeling the smile that always came to his face when he had solved a riddle of some kind. "It's a portkey." He said quietly, then louder to make sure Harry could hear, "Harry, the cup is a portkey."
Harry looked positively terrified. His back was against a tombstone as he slid along it, searching around him as though he expected to be ambushed at any given moment, "I've been here before," he said again, "in a dream."
His eyes finally settled on one particular tombstone, which he touched and then spoke with an urgency that Cedric had never heard before, "Cedric! We have to get back to the cup. Now!"
Cedric had already wandered away from the cup, eyeing a cauldron located in the middle of the cemetery that had somehow eluded his notice until just that moment. "What are you talking about?" he asked, the panic in the younger boy's voice unsettling him.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the faint golden light of a door opening and a short, rather portly man emerged. Harry began yelping in agony, clutching at his forehead and Cedric stepped forward, needing to help him for some reason. "Harry? What is it?" he asked.
"Get back to the cup!" Harry demanded, not taking his hand away from his head.
Cedric was suddenly overtaken with the urge to protect the younger wizard from the approaching man, whoever he was. He wasn't sure why the need came so strongly, but it had. He stepped up and pointed his wand with determination. "Who are you?" he demanded, "What do you want?"
However, as the older man approached, he felt himself retreat a few steps. Then, he heard the light raspy voice and stepped back of his own volition. "Kill the spare!" it said.
The older wizard raised his wand and Cedric took another step backward just as he heard the words, "Avada Kedavra." The heel of his foot caught on a root and tripped him up. He fell backwards just as the flashing green light of the curse flew past him, barely missing him. He landed on his back with a thud and every instinct in his body told him not to move; not to so much as breathe. That had been the killing curse. That had been meant to kill him.
"No!" He heard Harry cry, "Cedric!"
He wanted to let Harry know that he was okay, but fear would not permit him to move. He could hear the sounds of Harry struggling. He wanted so desperately to help the boy, but if he stood, they would merely shoot another unforgivable curse at him. If that happened, he wouldn't be of any use to anybody—not to mention he was seventeen and certainly not ready to die. He felt that currently the best course of action for him to take would be no action whatsoever. He needed to play dead, literally.
He heard the same rasping, detestable voice that had ordered his death speak again, "Do it! Now!"
There was a splash, and he knew that something rather large had been dropped into the cauldron. The foulest odor suddenly wafted through the air of the cemetery as though they were in a closed room with no windows and it took every ounce of his strength not to physically gag. Then, he heard the voice of the man who had actually been the one to attempt to murder him, "Bone of the father…" he said, "Unwillingly given." Then came the sound of another splash and Cedric began searching through his memory for any knowledge of the concoction that was happening in the cemetery. He doubted he would find any, as it was not Hogwarts policy to teach the dark arts, which this no doubt was.
"Flesh of the servant…" Came the voice again, "Willingly sacrificed." He was met with the sound of flesh tearing and bone slicing and a pained grunt; all followed by yet another splash of the cauldron.
"And blood of the enemy…" the voice hissed and Cedric felt every muscle in his body tense up. The enemy. That had to mean Harry. What was he going to do to Harry? He let his eye flicker to the corner in attempt to see what was going on. Harry was pinned to a stone monument and the short round man was now missing a hand and advancing on the defenseless boy. The man sliced into Harry's arm and Cedric winced for him. He nearly leapt to his feet right then and there, but the man turned toward him again, pinning him to ground. He needed a course of action that would get both him and Harry out of there alive.
"Forcibly taken," said the fat man before drifting back to the cauldron and tapping the edge of the blade with his finger so that a drop of Harry's blood went into the potion. "The Dark Lord shall rise again."
The cauldron started to bubble and brim and the smell grew even worse if that was possible. Harry screamed. Fire suddenly erupted from the cauldron, then turned into billowing smoke, then taking form. Form is really the best way to describe it. The thing was not quite human, but not entirely un-human. Cedric knew at once that it was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. His face was more akin to a snake than to anything else. Admiring his new body, he approached his servant. "My wand, Wormtail." He hissed.
The squat man, Wormtail, handed it to him. "Hold out your arm." He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named said.
Wormtail looked dreamily grateful. "Master," he cooed, offering the arm he had no doubt chopped into the cauldron, "thank you, master."
"The other arm, Wormtail." His master hissed harshly.
A look of betrayal flashed across Wormtail's pudgy face, but he did as he was instructed. The Dark Lord caught him by the wrist and jabbed his wand into the lesser man's flesh. The dark mark appeared in the sky and all of the sudden, like demonic shooting stars, the graveyard was filled with Deatheaters. Cedric let his eyes return center and did his absolute best not to blink. He needed to think faster as the situation was growing more and more precarious as things went on. He silently cursed himself for waiting so long to act.
"Welcome, my friends." The Dark Lord said as though greeting the guests of a party, "Thirteen years it's been, and yet here you stand before me as though it were only yesterday. I confess myself—disappointed. Not one of you tried to find me. Crabbe! Macnair! Goyle! Not even you, Luscious!"
Cedric made mental note of every name that he heard, determined that if he made it out of this alive, he would inform his father immediately. It was the actual getting out part that he needed to concentrate on now. He stopped listening to the exchanges being passed. He had always suspected Malfoy of being a dark wizard. It had really come as no surprise. Now, he needed a way to distract all these damned Deatheaters so that he could grab Harry and make a run for the portkey. He was thinking of some kind of transfiguration when he heard the distinct sound of someone approaching him. He began immediately to hold his breath again. A cold foot touched his cheek and pushed his face sideways.
"Oh," hissed the Dark Lord, "Tsk tsk tsk. Such a handsome boy."
It took everything in him not to shutter. Harry's voice suddenly rang out clear and strong, "Don't touch him!"
Cedric felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and pride in the young Gryffindor. The protective tone in his voice had also given Cedric the confident boost that he needed. He knew what he needed to do. Now, he just needed to wait for the Dark Lord to give him the opportunity.
"Harry." Voldemort said condescendingly, "Oh, I'd almost forgotten you were here. Standing on the bones of my father. Yeah. I'd introduce you but word has it you're almost as famous as me these days. The boy who lived. How lies have fed your legend, Harry."
Cedric wanted to scream. Lies. In all his life, he had never seen anyone with as much bravery and decency as the boy that the Dark Lord was taunting. He supposed that was why Voldemort responded to him in such a way.
"Shall I reveal what really happened that night thirteen years ago?" He hissed, "Shall I divulge how I truly lost my powers? Yes, shall I? It was love. You see, when dear, sweet Lily Potter gave her life for her only son she provided the ultimate protection. I could not touch him. It was—old magic. Something I should have foreseen."
Cedric pondered that. How could Voldemort ever foresee the power of love? It was not something that he understood. The concept was as foreign to him as unconditional hate was to Cedric. The Dark Lord would never grasp love because he would never know love.
The Dark Lord continued, "But no matter, no matter. Things have changed. I can touch you—now."
It was then that Cedric heard Harry screaming in agony once more. His hand flinched on his wand. He would do something. He would do something to help Harry. He promised himself this as his knuckles began to ache from how tightly he held his wand.
"Astonishing what a few drops of your blood will do, eh, Harry?" The Dark Lord went on, "Pick up your wand, Potter!"
He heard the sound of Harry hitting the ground. Yes, he though. This was what he needed. Harry was free. It was almost right to make his move. As the Dark Lord went about babbling about the "niceties" of dueling and then, when Cedric heard him say the word "Crucio!" he knew that the time was right. Harry didn't scream. He twitched on the ground, panting and gasping, but the boy did not let one scream leak through his lips. Cedric's respect for him grew even more. He knew that all were distracted in watching the Dark Lord torment a teenager, so he sat up as quickly as possible and screamed, "Expelliarmus!"
The spell hit the Dark Lord and as he was unprepared for the blow, it knocked him off his feet. Harry did not linger on the ground, but leapt to his feet at the same time as Cedric.
They rushed toward each other and without hesitating Harry caught Cedric by the arm and then looked to the cup. "Accio!" he cried.
The Deatheaters had begun to move toward them, but not quickly enough. Harry caught the cup and the two of them were sucked back to the maze, where they landed in the middle of the pitch with a crash.
Cheerful music began playing and they were met by an eruption of applause from all directions. In that moment, Harry and Cedric shared a look, both of them acknowledging that everything in their worlds were about to change; everyone's world was about to change. The two boys helped each other unsteadily to their feet and began searching for the same figure. Though neither of them had mentioned his name, it was just understood between them that they needed to inform Dumbledore of what had transpired immediately.
Cedric's father, Amos suddenly had him enveloped in a tight, delighted hug. "That's my son!" He cried with enthusiasm, "That's my boy!"
"Dad," Cedric said, trying to wriggle out of the embrace, "Dad, please, I have to speak to Professor Dumbledore, straight away."
"Of course! Of course!" Amos glowed, "My son, the Triwizard Champion!"
"Dad, this is important!" Cedric exclaimed, a little miffed that his father didn't seem to be listening to what he was actually saying to him; story of his life, really. His eyes searched around for Harry, but the smaller boy had been engulfed in a crowd of his own. Chants of "Diggory" and "Potter" were undulating through the masses of people. Cedric wanted to block it all out. He wanted to take every single person there by the shoulders and shake them until they paid attention to what he and Harry had to say, what they had seen. They needed to know about the danger that lay ahead of all of them. It was then that he noticed "Mad-Eye" Moody limping off briskly, one arm around Harry's shoulders. Harry was looking back every so often towards the crowd. Cedric felt himself breathe a sigh of relief. Harry had obviously managed to bend Moody's ear. He spotted Dumbledore making his way through the throngs of people in his direction and felt himself exhale again. Dumbledore had been informed of the situation and was no doubt coming to collect him so that they could all discuss what had happened.
However, instead of wrenching him away from the crowd and leading him away so that they could talk, Dumbledore simply offered him his hand to shake. "Congratulations, young master Diggory."
Something was wrong. This was off. This was not the way one acted at the knowledge of the Dark Lord's return. Cedric's gaze suddenly darted back in the direction that he had seen Moody and Harry go. "Sir, where had Professor Moody taken Harry?" He asked, piercing into Dumbledore's silver-blue eyes with his own duller gray.
"To congratulate him, I'm sure." Dumbledore said.
"Away from everyone?" Cedric said, shaking his head. That didn't make any sense. "Sir, there is something that you need to know. Someone transformed the cup into a portkey. It dropped Harry and me into a graveyard. You-Know-Who is back, sir!"
Dumbledore looked anxiously toward where Moody had swept Harry away, then back to Cedric, "Are you for certain?"
"Sir," Cedric confirmed.
:Minerva! Severus!" Dumbledore called, already in motion. Professors McGonagall and Snape followed him and Cedric was hot on their heels. They rushed into the castle, through the torch lit corridor to Moody's office. Dumbledore slammed bodily against the door and when it didn't budge, he didn't try a second time. He stepped back and pointed his wand, "Expelliarmus!" The door flew open with a resonating BOOM. The spell had gone straight through the door and hit Moody in the chest, sending him crashing into the other side of the room, away from where Harry leaned anxiously behind a lard trunk, trembling. For a moment, Cedric did not move, he was in so much awe. To watch Dumbledore cast was like watching a Phoenix take flight, every movement graceful and deliberate. He snapped himself out of it and moved to stand beside Harry.
"All right?" He asked.
Harry looked in a daze, "Not sure."
"Severus," Dumbledore said in a tone that was clearly a command. Snape stepped forward and forced a potion bottle into Moody's mouth. "That's it. Take it. Do you know who I am?"
Moody glared up at him from where Dumbledore had him by the collar of his robes, "Albus Dumbledore."
"Are you Alastor Moody? Are you?"
"No."
"Is he in this room? Is he in the room?"
Moody glanced toward Harry. Dumbledore turned with determination, "Harry, Cedric, away from there!"
They did not need to be told twice. The two boys scurried away from the wall as fast as their legs could carry them. Snape cast a spell and the trunk lip opened to reveal another then another then another and so on. All five of the wizards crept over to the trunk and peered into it. It appeared to be a deep chasm at the bottom of which lay a very dirty looking Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody.
"You all right, Alastor?" Dumbledore called down.
"I'm sorry, Albus." Moody called up.
"That's Moody." Harry said, expressing the confusion that Cedric himself was feeling, "But then who's…?"
Snape popped open Moody's flask and sniffed, then looked at Dumbledore. "Polyjuice potion."
"Now we know who's been stealing from you stores, Severus." Dumbledore said.
A look passed between Snape and Harry that Cedric did not quite catch the meaning of, nor was he sure he wanted to. His eyes turned to the polyjuiced Moody with unconcealed curiosity.
"We'll get you up in a minute." Dumbledore called down to Moody, but Cedric did not take his eyes away from the other Moody, who had begun to twitch. As Moody transformed into his original form and made an attempt to launch his self at Harry, Cedric could not help but think that polyjuice potion was disturbing on so many different levels.
"Barty Crouch Junior." Dumbledore said after the man had been forced back into his seat.
Crouch's gaze locked on Harry and Cedric felt the urge to step in front of him to shield him from the man's hateful glare. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." He said, raising his sleeve to reveal a skull and serpent, the mark of one of the Dark Lord's servants.
Dumbledore grabbed Harry, "Your arm, Harry." He said, showing the large vertical gash that Wormtail had inflicted in order to get some of Harry's blood. Cedric winced when he saw the cut. He had not stopped that from happening. He had been sitting right there and he had not done a thing to stop it.
"You know what this means, don't you?" Crouch gloated, "He's back. Lord Voldemort has returned."
"I'm sorry, sir." Harry pleaded, "I couldn't help it."
"Send an owl to Azkaban. I think they'll find they're missing a prisoner." Dumbledore said.
McGonagall turned and rushed out of the room to do as instructed. Crouch said, "I'll be welcomed back like a hero."
"Perhaps," Dumbledore said, ushering Harry back and away from him with one arm while the other came to take hold of Cedric's arm, pulling him toward the door as well, "Personally, I've never had much time for heroes."
…
Cedric stood with his arms crossed over his chest, shoulder leaned casually against a column as he watched the other students hugging and saying their goodbyes to each other before they departed for break. Dumbledore had given a stirring end of the year address that morning about the bonds of friendship that had been formed this year between the students and how they would be the most important because, despite the Ministry's protest that the children should stay ignorant to the fact, Voldemort had in fact returned. Cedric agreed about the friendship, because somehow he had the overwhelming feeling that he had made the most important new friend that he would ever make in Harry Potter. He had bonded himself to "the boy who lived." Dumbledore had also said that they would face dark and difficult times ahead and that they would soon learn that they must make a choice between what is "right" and what is "easy." He didn't feel that he had that choice anymore. Not since he now knew that his and Harry's lives were linked in both friendship and honor and duty. He somehow knew that his fate, his destiny had all been decided the moment that he had landed in that graveyard at Harry Potter's side. He was never supposed to make it to that cemetery and in doing so, he had altered something. Now, he was tied to the outcome of that something, just as Harry was. They were, in a sense, tied to each other now. He found Harry's green eyes in the midst of the crowd and he knew that Harry had this same knowledge. The younger boy began to make his way toward where Cedric stood.
"So," Harry said when he arrived at Cedric's side, "does this make you "the boy who also lived?"
Cedric chuckled, "I think this makes me "the clumsy boy with dumb luck."
"Everything is different, now." Harry said, his eyes sad and serious.
Cedric nodded his agreement. Everything most certainly was different. So many things had changed in such a short time, and not necessarily for the better. But as he stood there with Harry, Cedric could not bring himself to believe that everything had changed for the worse. Something good could come from this. "Listen, Harry," Cedric said, "I think we should keep touch. Over break, you know."
Harry looked at him quizzically.
Cedric laughed at himself. He sounded like a besotted girl. "I just mean," He clarified, "we've just been through something incredible and I don't know if there is anyone else who can understand what the has done to me—nobody will be able to understand what I am feeling except you, because you are, probably to a greater extent in fact, feeling it as well. Did that make any sense?"
Harry laughed and Cedric felt better. "I am glad to have gotten to know you a little bit this year, Cedric." Harry said and offered his hand.
"Same." Cedric said and shook the proffered hand. With that, Harry dashed off to join up with the youngest of the male Weasleys and the young witch that was always skirting about with them. They seemed very close. Cedric had his own friends to bid farewell to, so he pushed away from the column and went in search of them.
Author's Note: Well, that is it for the preface. Please, please let me know what you think. I know I haven't really launched into the story yet but I pray that I haven't bored anyone to tears either. Thanks for reading!!!