Notes: Part two. Sigh. I read this over and face palm. Usually I post four sections of each world to each part, but this time Ryoma-as-Harry-land got going. CED WHY ARE YOU SO CHEESY. TEAR TEAR.
Diggory was bouncing a fresh looking tennis ball when Harry found him
Diggory was bouncing a fresh looking tennis ball when Harry found him. He was wearing his blue and white jacket, and hadn't changed out of his sweats. Harry doubted Diggory-buchou would be on the courts much that day, probably busy still preparing for the Prefectural tournament next week.
Harry realized then how little he'd seen his captain play: Diggory was always Singles One for their matches and he had spent most of the Ranking tournament watching Harry's matches.
"Buchou," Harry said, stopping and tapping the frame of his racket on his leg. The bouncing stopped and Cedric looked up.
"Harry," he replied with a small nod. He rolled the ball carefully on the pads of his fingers and silence fell between them.
Cedric was watching him, mouth set in a thin line Harry had only seen on his face once before: while he had listened to Harry's pleas to be allowed to keep playing with a bleeding eyelid.
The ball hit the pavement with a loud thwack as it bounced towards Harry. Instinctively, he raised his racked and caught the tennis ball. Harry lowered his racket and frowned at Diggory over the ball as it bounced on his gut. Diggory looked pleased as he stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets.
"At Haruno University there are a couple of clay courts – you'll find them easily, they've just been renovated." Diggory smiled and Harry let the ball bounce a little higher. "I'll meet you there three days from now, at three p.m.. Come alone." It was, like many of the things Diggory said to his teammates, a command and Harry wouldn't even consider doing otherwise. "I'll bring the balls," he added, almost like an afterthought.
With another smile and nod, Diggory turned away and began walking away – towards McGonagall's office, presumably. The ball continued to bounce on Harry's racket as he raised his left hand to straighten his slipping glasses. He was sweating and his gripped his racket tightly, suddenly afraid it would slip out of his grasp. Harry nodded although Cedric was turned away and began to make his own way back towards the tennis courts.
He needed to practice.
Cho was quiet as they crossed the street, yet Cedric was more aware of her than ever amongst the chatter and engines surrounding them. Her dress shoes clicked against the pavement where his runners made a barely audible scratching sound with each step.
Their appearance was nothing unusual: just two junior high students on their way home. It was where they had departed that made them stand out. Phantom pain shot through Cedric's arm. The tall hospital building loomed behind them.
"Cedric," Cho said as they stepped onto the busy sidewalk. He dragged the nail of his thumb down the inside of h bag's strap, preparing himself for an argument he didn't want to have.
"I think we're almost ready for the tournament," he chirped, leading the way through tired white-collared men around them. "It looks like sensei wants Ron and Potter to play our two singles fore Yamabuki match, once we get past St. Rudolph of course. You don't mind playing doubles, again do--?"
He applauded himself for not flinching when she snatched her elbow, bringing both of them to a stop. Still, he didn't turn and face her, either. Cho was being ridiculous – she and McGonagall both. The latter had gone so far as to call him masochistic. Cedric had laughed. He wasn't masochistic, he was a tennis captain.
"I know my uncle says you're healed…"
"Trust him, Cho. He's a doctor."
She gripped his elbow harder. The pain was all in his head and he knew it – except for where her nails pressed through his uniform. People moved around them and Cedric thought of a rock in a stream. Were he and Cho just a hindrance for all the rest to flow around? Were they merely a stepping stone? If so, for who?
He already knew the answer.
"Fine. He also said you should avoid long matches and your drop shot," she continued, tone almost pleading. Cedric caught the eye of a passing woman and automatically offered her a smile. He didn't quite see her move away. "Don't play him tomorrow."
"It'll be fine," he assured her. "It's just a tennis match." He tried to take a step forward, but Cho tugged him back.
"There will be other matches. You need to rest for a little longer. What will you do if you strain yourself and we never reach the nationals?"
He let out a laugh. "I'm not going to bust my arm –"
"Yes, you will! I know you Cedric, and I know how you play. You don't need to play Potter."
Cedric pulled himself out of her grip and sighed. "Yes, I do." Cho was in front of him before he could blink, her chocolate eyes flashing with accusation.
"Why?"
"He won't grow if I don't."
"And it must be you."
"Yes."
"Because you're the captain." She let out a sour laugh that didn't suit her at all. "It was probably one of sensei's worst and best decisions." Cho turned away with a huff, long hair swaying as she began walking. After a moment Cedric stepped after her. His long strides brought him to her side with little effort.
"It's just a game, you know." She said as they neared an intersection.
Cedric raised his left hand to grip his elbow, almost where Cho had grabbed. With a smile he said, "Not to me it isn't."
When Tezuka sought him out two days following Halloween Ryoma was feeling quite pissed. Half of the school was congratulation him on making it into the tournament; the other half hated him – a half which suddenly seemed to include Momo and the entirety of Hufflepuff – for stealing Tezuka's spotlight.
Oh, yeah. Someone might just want to kill him. Not ingredients for a good Boy-Who-Lived mood.
He had heard rumours about Tezuka planning to curse him to Kingdom Come and (although he seriously doubted Tezuka actually would) Ryoma found himself constantly watching his back. Even if Tezuka might not, someone else was bound to try something.
For this reason Ryoma followed Tezuka out of the Great Hall during Dinner amidst whispers and speculation with his wand being twirled in his fingers. They didn't go far, just to the entrance hall where very few still straggled.
Tezuka turned and looked down at Ryoma with his arms folded stiffly across his chest. Ryoma looked right back at him, determined this time not to back down. His wand stilled and he slipped it into his pocket. Silence stretched on between them.
A thought occurred to him then and he held back a tired groan. Although it seemed unlikely, Tezuka was still a Hufflepuff and he was bound to have some of their linked-arms-throw-daisies nature. Ryoma hoped to whatever God it was that seemed to hate him so much that they would take pity on him this once and spare him the stupidity.
Yet as he studied Tezuka's fairly blank expression and his own peculiar shaded eyes found Tezuka's, hidden behind oval lenses, a new worry began to swirl in Ryoma's stomach. This sixth-year was someone whom he respected with about as much respect as he could give anyone. Tezuka Kunimitsu was a downright amazing seeker, and bound to be the best champion of the entire competition. His disapproval or even his hatred was something Ryoma didn't think he could handle.
He found himself wondering if Tezuka had called him out to lecture him about the cup, about the tournament, and a mixture of annoyance and guilt filled him; anger topped him off. Momo thought he had done it and suddenly hated him, Sakaki and the other professors probably thought the same; he had Kikumaru on his case every waking moment as the red-head tried to wheedle his 'secret' out of Ryoma. It was getting to be too much.
Echizen Ryoma didn't tell lies like that. Even if he had to tell a hundred people to get one to believe him, he would – Tezuka included.
"I didn't put my name in that dumb cup." Ryoma blurted out, sick of the whispering and the accusations. He glared up at Tezuka, who continued to survey him. Silence fell between them.
Finally, Tezuka said: "I know."
Ryoma blinked. "What?"
"It's like the professors said: no fourth-year could trick the Goblet of Fire," Tezuka replied simply while Ryoma gawked at him. He wasn't sure whether to be offended that Tezuka thought him incapable of befuddling a giant cup, or thankful someone believed him.
Ryoma scowled and his glare hardened. "If you know that, what do you want?"
Tezuka seemed to hesitate (with him, no-one could be sure). "I want to know what you're going to do for the First Task."
Again, Ryoma found himself taken aback. He recovered quickly and rolled his eyes. 'Che. We don't know what the Task is yet – why would I know what I'm doing?"
Oval lenses flashed. "You should be researching and preparing. You, Echizen, are at a serious disadvantage."
Ryoma pursed his lips. He knew that already, but…
Tezuka raised his head slightly. "I am not losing to you." He said, his voice suddenly seeming louder. He stepped around Ryoma and re-entered the Great Hall.
An hour later, An and Sakuno Ryuzaki found Ryoma with a spell book in the library, studying and filled to the brim with a sudden desire to win.
"He's an idiot."
"You're both idiots."
Ryoma scowled but didn't reply. Instead he flicked his wand experimentally and the pages of his textbook flipped as though in a fresh breeze. An stood with her hands on her hips, watching him with a frown on her lips.
"Let's go for a fly," she suggested, plopping down in the seat across from him. She put an elbow on the table and her chin in her palm. Ryoma flicked his wand again and the pages flipped in the opposite direction.
"Let's not," he replied, catching a delicate page between his fingers. The flipping ceased and he began to skim the page he had nabbed. "I'm studying."
An pursed her lips.
"I think you're depressed," she announced. Her serious expression faltered at Ryoma's snort.
"Hardly," he replied, tracing a wand movement with his index finger.
"Then why are you locking yourself in here all the time?" she probed, making a vague gesture with her free hand (Ryoma took her to mean the library). He raised his eyes to her and An saw this as a chance. "You don't talk to anyone anymore. I know Momo's being a loser about this whole mess and you've got half the school against you –"
"Are you supposed to be helping?"
Ignoring his comment An barrelled on. "And I bet your competitive male nature is working overtime right now, but you've go to snap out of it. How are you going to beat Tezuka if you're sitting around moping?"
Ryoma stared at her. "Are you insane?" he asked blandly then turned back to his book. He missed the light bulb flash over her head – but not her palms slamming on the worn table surface.
Oh, good god.
He scowled as he looked up again, eyes flashing. He wasn't the only one who had turned: there were pairs of eyes peering around bookshelves and over the tops of dusty texts at the table Ryoma had situated himself at.
"It's Tezuka, isn't it?" An almost hissed, leaning forward and ignoring Ryoma's glare and discomfort. "He said something to – to – to intimidate you, didn't he?"
"He's a fucking Hufflepuff!"
"They're not all above…you know."
"No I don't. You are insane."
An leaned further across the table and Ryoma leaned back, pulling his book with him. She was going to get them kicked out of the library, he just knew it.
"Don't hide it from me, Ryoma," An sighed, shaking her head. "If he said something to frighten you, you should tell a teacher or that Ministry official." Ryoma was that close to sputtering. An's sudden idea that a Hufflepuff (granted, it was Tezuka, but seriously) could frighten him was bordering insulting.
"Mind your own business."
"I'm your friend. This is my business."
"Bloody hell. Back off Tachibana."
"Just tell me—"
"Echizen?"
An and Ryoma both shut their mouths and looked up at a frowning Tezuka. His eyes went from Ryoma to An, the frown deepening as the sudden silence dragged on.
To say the least, it was embarrassing.
A poorly disguised laugh brought Ryoma's attention to the Ravenclaw standing just behind Tezuka. He was a slender, pretty boy whom Ryoma had played against once or twice – Fuji, he recalled.
"Ah, Tezuka, you evil 'Puff you." Snickered Fuji. An scowled and Ryoma flushed red enough for the both of them.
An raised her nose and studied Tezuka and Fuji carefully. "Harassment isn't something to laugh about." She said. Fuji turned away to fight further chuckles. Tezuka raised an eyebrow.
"No, it isn't." he agreed, tucking his book under his arm.
"Just to clarify," cut in Fuji, once again peering around Tezuka with his eerily closed eyes. "Who is harassing who here?"
"As if you don't know." An snorted. Ryoma held back a groan and tried to sink into the wood of his seat. "I'd like to know what exactly you said to make Ryoma hide up here with all these books."
Both eyebrows went up and Tezuka's eyes focused on Ryoma. "Hm." An seemed disappointed with this reaction but was kept from saying anything more by the disturbingly loud click-clack of the librarian's heels on the floor.
The stern old woman rounded a shelf with a furious expression and Ryoma sighed, beginning to gather his things together.
"What is all the commotion back here?" the woman snapped, sharp eyes snapping from Ryoma, to An, to Tezuka, to Fuji, and then settling on Tezuka again as she did a double-take.
"Don't need to say it. We're going." Ryoma muttered, lifting his bag as he stood up. An, at least, the common sense to look sheepish.
"A-ah, yes." Pince blinked and then straightened her shoulders. Ryoma braced himself for a lecture. "You're slipping, Echizen. Getting kicked out without Momoshiro is a new low." Ryoma merely grunted in response and began trooping from the library with An in two.
"Fuji, perhaps, but you Tezuka?"
"My apologies, Madame," came Tezuka's deep voice, floating after them as Ryoma and An rounded the same shelf Pince had only moments before. The corridor was quiet when they stepped into it.
Ryoma let out a long-suffering sigh as they started towards Gryffindor. An took the hint and said nothing and there was silence until they reached the portrait hole.
Ryoma opened his mouth to say the password just as the portrait swung open. His teeth clacked together as his fellow Gryffindor straightened his tall frame. An's expression brightened.
"Momo!" she greeted as the other fourth-year looked up.
Ryoma pursed his lips together and narrowed his eyes as Momoshiro's own greeting died in his throat. "Off to pick a fight with Kaidoh, huh?" he drawled.
Momo snorted. "At least I'm willing to do something about the Slytherins." He replied, sending his own glare at the shorter wizard.
"You know there was a mental muggle who said the same things about Jews."
"Ryoma!" An gasped, biting the inside of her cheek. "You're both being idiots!" Neither boy seemed to care what she said.
"Did that mental muggle cheat and lie to his best friend?" Momo hissed, earning a roll of golden eyes.
"Like the best friend would know," Ryoma straightened his back. "Since he was too busy being stupid and jealous and all."
Momoshiro visibly seethed at that and made to step around Ryoma. "You know, speaking of dirty snakes, Sakaki wanted to see you." He let out a sour laugh and stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. "Probably wants to prepare our special champion for his next interview." He raised a hand in farewell to An and started down the stairs. Ryom and An watched his retreating back for a moment and then the latter sighed and turned back to the portrait.
"You two need to sort this out," she grumbled. "Earthworm Spines," she added to the Fat Lady, who smiled understandingly. An stepped towards the portrait hole and peered over her shoulder to see if Ryoma was coming.
The fourth champion was following Momo's steps down the staircase. Hope almost began to well up in her.
"Ryoma!" she called. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to see fucking Sakaki!" he snapped back, angry voice echoing in the empty corridor.
An's shoulders slumped.