Rays of golden sunshine shone through the large window, the drapes pulled aside to let the soft autumn breeze in. The scent of maple leaves drifting through the room…
And then something shattered.
Harry bolted up in his bed, shoving his glasses onto his face. He fixed his eyes onto the remains of the broken picture frame on the ground, and then flicking his eyes up to face Peeves, who had an impish grin on his face. "Oops, did I shatter a portrait of you? Was it autographed?" The stout spirit said, giggling and flying through the air. Harry hurled the nearest pillow up at the poltergeist, missing narrowly as Peeves whipped through the air and shot through the ceiling. Harry sighed and glanced at his alarm clock, reading '6:45.' He grumbled and tried to go back to sleep for about seven more minutes with no results, finally resigning himself to getting ready.
Harry dressed, showered, and packed his bag. As he looked in the mirror he felt revulsion bubbling in his chest at the sight of himself tying up his wild hair, smoothing down the frizz that refused to lie down and finally deciding it was a fruitless effort. He stared at Ron's bed, listening to his shallow breathing longingly. The covers were drawn so that was all he could really do. He missed Ron, more than he missed anything this year, but he could never admit that. Ron would lunge at his vulnerability, he knew so. It just wasn't the same with just Hermione… Although he loved her and cherished their friendship, the moments they shared together were nearly devoid of laughter. It just wasn't balanced without Ron, without the glue that held those three together.
He pulled himself from his thoughts, exiting the dormitory rubbing his stinging eyes. He found himself thinking back to the wand weighing… His stomach churned and his cheeks flushed as he thought of Cedric, of what he had said to him… The Hufflepuff had treated him so kind, as though he was normal, as though he wasn't Harry Potter. And then it turned out he didn't believe Harry either. Harry felt anger boiling inside him, but it dissipated as he thought of the concern in Diggory's voice… Did he really like Harry's skin, something he despised… Was he really worried about him?
This idea was so foreign to Harry that he didn't know how to react when he had been in the situation. The Dursley's didn't bother to ask him about how he was feeling, the going ons of his school year, nothing. Harry felt hopelessly disconnected from them, from their lives. It didn't help, the way that they looked at him, eyeing his skin, ordering him to smooth down his hair. He didn't begin to feel shame during these moments until his classmates in elementary school began imitating these behaviours as well.
"I don't want to be Harry's partner, mum says his kind don't learn math where they come from…" "Aren't you supposed to have an accent?" "Get out of the sun, tar skin, before you melt!"
Harry had unusually dark skin for being mixed race, but his dad was extremely dark, so it made sense that he would be to, even if he was a bit lighter. He wasn't even proud when people exclaimed "You look just like your father!" anymore, as it reminded him of the burden he felt, the burden laced into his skin. He knew that people looked at him differently, treated him differently, and he longed to look like his mother, fair skinned and freckled… But that was ruined for him as well. "Your mum must've been a real whore to have settled for your nigger dad." Dudley had hissed, having walked in on Harry tracing his slender finger across his mother's photographed face. Harry had crumbled, but tried to defend her. That resulted in being locked in his cramped bedroom for two days, only being visited when they wanted to beat him and use his body. He didn't bother anymore… the violation hurt more than Dudley's insults.
He had been shocked when Cedric had uttered those words. "I don't think your skin is concrete." He said, stumbling over his sentence without the maturity and grace that usually adorned every word he spoke. And he had smiled, feeling a comfort with his skin that he hadn't felt before. But the fleeting feeling vanished when he had accused Harry of entering his name… Harry's pride had forced him to flee, to take out his anger on Cedric, someone who had been so kind to him instead of simply correcting him. He knew he was wrong…
But he couldn't help but still feel angry.
The Hufflepuff had led him on, made him think he believed him. Harry had trusted him, and maybe he would've confided in Cedric… he swallowed down the lump forming in his throat… if he hadn't proved he was just like everyone else. No use dwelling on it anymore, though. He needed to focus on surviving, maybe even winning, and he decided he would distract himself by throwing himself into the championship. He needed to live, and that was final. He didn't need to be thinking of gorgeous, kind Cedric Diggory… This task proved to be much more difficult than he thought.
The minute Harry entered the Great Hall he rushed for Hermione who was sitting at the Gryffindor table with her freckled nose in a book. "Hey, Harry. The owl post should get here in a couple minutes, I'm excited to read Skeeter's article…" She said off handedly. "Forget that! Show me your teeth, are you okay?" Harry asked, looking very guilty. "Oh, Harry, it's quite alright. Don't get me wrong, Malfoy was being a git, but that doesn't excuse you engaging with him… Anyways, my teeth are great, better than before, actually!" She beamed, smiling wide to show off her pearly front teeth, which were much smaller and normal sized than previously. Harry and Hermione grinned at each other and giggled, and Harry didn't remember feeling this at peace in ages.
Suddenly, a large cloud of brown, auburn, and gray swooped in through the open windows. Prophet owls swept through the tables, sticking their legs out and receiving sickles, knuts, and galleons in exchange for a rolled up newspaper. Immediately, Harry noticed heads turning and looking at him, then towards the Hufflepuff table, but none toward the Ravenclaw and Slytherin table where Fleur and Krum were seated. Giggling and wolf whistling filled the air and he noticed Cedric's eyes widening considerably as he caught sight of the cover. Harry began to sweat and hastily reached for a paper, dropping a couple sickles and a galleon into the Prophet Owl's bag. He wasn't prepared for what graced the front page.
Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter: A Triwizard Romance
By Rita Skeeter
The title was followed by the moving picture that Skeeter had taken of Cedric and Harry. The 7th years arm was over his lithe shoulders, his head leaning on Harry's, who was smiling a tiny smile and looking down at his feet, his hand reaching up to fiddle with his dark, tight curls. The picture continuously looped Cedric's laughter and grin that Harry remembered oh so well. The fourth year skimmed through the lengthy article, which detailed the blossoming romance between protective Cedric Diggory and reserved Harry Potter, the romance in question having began during his third year when Cedric apparently had sat beside him all night and consoled him after he had fallen off of his broom.
They had then become inseparable, meeting in secret and sharing passionate kisses, Cedric sweeping Harry up in his arms in a loving embrace after he had returned from nearly being killed by Sirius Black. They allegedly had went on to camp out underneath the stars during the quidditch World Cup, being separated during the Death Eater incident only to be reunited when Harry's name came from the goblet. There was also a mention of Cedric defending Harry against Rita as she tried to interview him. Was that why she did this? She had even interviewed other students...
"Oh, yeah, I would believe it. Harry and Cedric were chatting when I was taking them to the wand weighing. Diggory even complimented him, they wouldn't take their eyes off of each other." Says Colin Creevey, a third year Gryffindor who claims to be Harry Potter's friend. "It makes absolute sense to me, I can't believe I never picked up on it until you mentioned it!"
Harry glared down the table at Colin, who gave him a thumbs up and a grin, completely oblivious to the brunette's embarrassment. The article ended with a brief paragraph about the other two champions, their names and schools misspelled and smushed into the last sentences. Harry felt a flush creeping up his neck amidst the guffaws and cat calling of the Great Hall. He looked at Hermione, who's hand was slapped over her mouth and eyes were widened, and then chancing a glance at Ron, who sat with a blank face, eyes skimming over the article. "Wow, Potter. Now I know why you've never had a girlfriend all these years. Saving yourself for Diggory?" Malfoy's snide voice called from the other side of the hall. Guffaws came from every direction and Harry felt his stomach turn sour. One mortified look at Cedric and he bolted, leaving gales of laughter and cat calling in his wake
Harry avoided class for the rest of the day until he got roped into a herbology lesson. This was very unfortunate because it was one of the only classes he had with the Hufflepuffs, who weren't very keen on seeing Harry. In fact, Ernie Macmillan, who Harry was usually on okay terms with, laughed loudly when Harry dropped his pot on the ground, sending a magical soil (bewitched to grow plants at an extremely rapid pace) flying everywhere, causing a potted mandrake to age rapidly, leaving the poor creature a deformed elder who had the pimples of a teenager.
He left the greenhouse in a hurry, ignoring Ron and bidding farewell to Hermione, who was off to dinner, which Harry didn't bother to attend. The laughter of children wasn't a sweet sound today. He knew it was petty, blatantly ignoring his redhead friend, but he wasn't exactly in the best of moods. He just prayed that he wouldn't come across-
"Hey Potty, your star crossed lover isn't here to protect you, is he?" A malicious voice broke through the air.
Oh shit.
Cedric had finally escaped the horde of Hufflepuffs that insisted on tailing him everywhere he went, who glowered at and occasionally hexed anyone who dare bring up the article. Oh god, the article. Cedric groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead as he walked through the deserted corridors. He hadn't been able to get the image of the angry Harry from yesterday out of head, but now something even worse was plastered all over his brain: A horrified Harry, disgusted by an article about them. Cedric was disgusted by the article as well, don't get him wrong. Sexualizing a fourteen year old is abhorrent. But a small… Well, a considerably large part of him wished that some of the details of the article were true…
Great. Now he couldn't get the image of Harry underneath him, his back heaving and Cedric's hands holding down his shoulders out of his damned mind. This was even worse… he still couldn't believe the article had some legitimacy to it. He just hoped it wasn't one sided. He sighed and swatted away a little beetle that was crawling on his hand absentmindedly… and then a stifled scream bounced through the halls.
Cedric immediately tensed, straining his ears to hear what was going on. He heard the unmistakable sound of something being slammed into a wall, the ground, who cares. All Cedric knew was that he was running down the hallway towards the sound, papers and whatnot tumbling from his bag. He turned the corner and skidded to a stop…
It was Potter… and who was that? Someone was holding him up against the wall with a wand pointed under his chin, a green hemmed robe obscuring all but their pale blonde… Malfoy. Before he knew what he was doing, he was tearing the tall Slytherin off the Gryffindor, shoving him away, causing him to tumble to the ground with a thud. He advanced on the little git, staring down at his sneering face. "If I had any doubt about your little romance before, this definitely threw it out the window. You can expect my father to hear about this, you Hufflepuff faggot." Malfoy hissed, sneering and pushing himself to his feet, storming off.
Finally, Cedric turned to look at Harry, who was sat on the ground, his cheeks redder than ever. He looked up at Cedric, his face blotched with tears, green eyes wide with an underlying emotion he couldn't decipher. He said only one thing.
"I'm sorry."
(A/N): Hey, guys. I know this is a pretty sad fic and that it's frustrating to see Harry in such a self hate spiral over his skin, but I promise there'll be some fluff sprinkled about. Malfoy really is a git, isn't he? I used to totally love Drarry but now I can't stand it after re reading the books. Same with Snarry to, except for a fic that's very special to me, There's Nothing Else I Can Say. It's a treat, you should check it out if you like that pairing.
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