Like Luminescent Dawn from the Shade of Night -Aariya
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry Potter/Cedric Diggory
Genre: Romance, Drama, Mystery
Summary: Cedric just wants to know what the big fuss is about the new student but gets more than he bargained for: love…and a closely guarded secret of such great import that, if let out, could plunge the wizarding world into chaos.
Warnings: AU; slash; Powerful/Dark!Harry
Spoilers: Information from all seven books. However, know that everything changed was done so consciously, and is not a mistake on my part; I have done my research.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything associated with it belongs to J.K. Rowling. The song "Breathless" is borrowed from Shankar Mahadevan, used here in the story's title and the lyrics below. The song "Tu Hi To Meri Dost Hain" is written by Gulzar, used here for Part I's title.
Part I. The Moonlight Often Hums in the Night
2. rapport_
-:-
The whole atmosphere now scented by a whirlwind of fragrance,
all the breezes now staggering drunkenly;
And someone in every direction, every element.
-:-
"Don't think you can so easily sidetrack me, young man. I used to change your diapers; I know all of your tricks."
Professor Minerva McGonagall's reprimand was the first thing Cedric heard when he rounded the corner to where Harry's rooms were. Harry was being subjected to one of the professor's harsh stares (though nowhere near as harsh as it was for other people) while he stood before her looking sheepish and sufficiently rebuked.
"You're right. I'm sorry," apologized Harry. "I'll tell you all about it."
Cedric walked at a slower pace to give them some privacy. He was sure the professor would not want him to witness her looking like such a mother hen.
"Be sure that you do," said Professor McGonagall. She laid a gentle hand on his cheek then swiftly departed. She nodded approvingly at Cedric as she passed him in the hall.
He supposed that was for coming to escort Harry even after it was obvious he did not need any help navigating the castle. The professors had shown they were quite serious about their threat to him and seemed satisfied that he was taking it seriously as well.
Cedric put them out of his mind the moment Harry's breathtaking smile was turned on him.
"Good morning, Cedric," he greeted, meeting him halfway down the corridor.
"Morning, Harry. Are you ready for classes?" Cedric asked.
Harry didn't appear too sure as he answered, "I hope so. I have never been taught along with so many other students."
Cedric was glad that Harry felt he could share that with him. He'd expected the other boy to reply with a cursory affirmative, but that he was honestly telling him about his insecurities showed how comfortable he was with him.
"I doubt it's much different than being taught alone," Cedric put in as he led the way to breakfast. "There's just more people around who'll hear and learn the same thing you are. Not to mention, your friends will have most of your classes with you."
"I don't know anyone besides Ron and Neville," said Harry. He then smiled at Cedric. "But there are other very nice people like you who I've gotten to know."
"That's good to hear, Harry." Cedric smiled back, amused and flattered to learn that he was apparently the standard for measuring up the benevolence of others.
Their walk to the Great Hall was no different than it was yesterday. It was Harry's fourth day in Hogwarts and there wasn't any indication that the attention he continued to receive was going to let up anytime soon. Whenever the students stared too long, Harry would self-consciously pull his bangs even lower, to the point that they fell over his eyes.
This particular action had made Cedric realize that he had yet to see the lightning bolt scar reported to be on Harry's forehead. Few had said that they'd seen it, but even Cedric, who spent the most time with him out of all the other students (besides Weasley and Longbottom), hadn't glimpsed it.
"Have you known Weasley and Longbottom for long?" Cedric asked to distract him; it was a long walk to the Great Hall.
Harry probably realized what he was doing. In the time that he'd known him, Cedric had learned that he was extremely perceptive and appeared to be able to tell what people were feeling or thinking.
"I've known both of them since we were kids," said Harry, a reminiscent expression on his face as he recounted. "Our parents are friends so we grew up around each other. Ron and I hit it off right away, and we became best mates practically from the first moment. Neville was very shy, though, and it was a little hard to get to know him, but we eventually got through to him."
Cedric had begun to notice how Harry's formal speech was becoming more lax the more comfortable he got with him. With other people, he was pretty much the same, but he spoke freely to him and wasn't as proper as the first time they'd talked. Maybe because of this, his Scots-Gaelic accent seemed to be more prominent. It was less controlled and easier to place than when he spoke reservedly. He was still more polite than any sixteen-year-old ought to be, but in a less unyielding manner.
"Longbottom is still very bashful," Cedric pointed out.
Harry chuckled lowly, a lilting sound that caused Cedric's stomach to flip. "We did not succeed outside the people close to him. He is rather garrulous when you get to know him, though."
Only Harry, Cedric thought in amusement at the younger boy's use of a word like garrulous when a simpler one would do just fine.
The two split when Cedric stopped to join the Hufflepuffs and Harry proceeded on to the table over, both of them exchanging parting words. As it was Monday, the table was almost full and Cedric had more curious eyes on him today than he did when he'd escorted Harry in the weekend.
None of them quite understood why he continued to be in the sixth year's presence past the obligatory amount of time. Andras had asked Cedric about it but he hadn't known exactly what to tell him. The professors threatened me? That wouldn't work.
He'd gone with half of the truth: that he liked being with Harry and he didn't mind it, which had earned him sidelong, discerning glances from both Andras and Étienne. Even Daniel, who was usually wholly indifferent about anything that didn't concern him, gazed at him skeptically. Étienne, he could understand—the French boy always saw something that wasn't actually there in everything—but why were Andras and Daniel joining in?
Cedric had only been eating for about ten minutes when he was interrupted by Zacharias Smith insinuating himself in the seat to his left, pushing Blake Wolsey aside. Blake looked very affronted at the sixth year's daring. Before Smith even spoke, Cedric knew what he wanted to say.
"Diggory," the blond spoke in his trademark mightier-than-thou tone, "when are you going to schedule practice?"
The boy was really starting to grate on his nerves. This was the third time he'd asked since Cedric had chosen him as the new Chaser during yesterday's tryouts. Since then, Cedric had been forced to question his judgment, wondering what he'd been thinking when, of all the people, he'd picked this utter slight to Hufflepuff's name. Unfortunately, there hadn't been anyone as good so he'd been forced to go with him if he wanted a chance at the Cup this year. If Malcolm Preece hadn't graduated last year, they wouldn't be having this problem.
Attempting to keep his cool, Cedric replied, "Practice doesn't usually start until October." Then, to get him off his back, he added, "But I've booked the pitch for Saturday so the new players can have a little more time."
Smith's upturned nose became even more upturned, if possible. "You believe I need more practice than your experts?" He spat out 'experts' as though it were being forced to come out of his lips.
Daniel was beginning to lose his ironclad composure, Cedric noticed, and the others had already lost it, but he refused to be riled up by the little punk.
"I thought you were so eager to practice? I am doing this for your benefit," he countered.
"It's not like I need it," Smith asserted as he stood. "I only asked because I want to play, not for practicing purposes."
A consecutive eye roll went around the table at his declaration. Smith was so full of it; his Housemates had given up being surprised at his need to stroke his ego every chance he got.
"Why do you indulge the little twat?" Andras asked him when the boy went back to his seat.
"He's not worth it," said Cedric. "It doesn't help to get mad."
"It's not like I need it," mimicked Daniel in irritation, eyes narrowed at where the sixth year sat. "As if his skills are anything to boast of." He turned to Cedric. "You do realize Cadwallader and I have to work with the tosser, don't you? Does he seem like a team player to you?"
While unperturbed by most anything, Quidditch was the one thing Daniel was really passionate about. Cedric could understand his frustration. If the potential to lose because of another's inability to work as part of a team existed, he had a right to be angry.
"I'm sorry, but you know there was no one else quite as good," Cedric reasoned. "We'll see how he works in a team on Saturday. If he can't cooperate, I'll replace him."
"That other sixth year wasn't so bad," Daniel reminded him, pointing with his fork at a brown-haired French boy who was sitting beside Lythan Cadwallader. "Josephe Tronçon."
Cedric nodded in acknowledgment of his choice replacement. "He was my next option."
Next to him, Blake growled, "I don't care what you guys do with him; he comes anywhere near me again, Quidditch will be the last thing he worries about."
Daniel seemed almost excited by the prospect. Blake was big; a skinny guy like Smith had to have at least some guts to be pushing him aside when there was a possibility of incurring his wrath.
"I feel sorry for him already," expressed Kaelen, though the smirk on his face said he was far from it.
Cedric snorted amusedly. "I can see you're really broken up about it."
Kaelen grinned and shrugged, eating his excessively syrupy Scotch pancakes with gusto.
The boys were getting back to their normal breakfast conversations when the morning owls came in to the Great Hall. Cedric glanced up when his silver and dark gray hawk owl, Aspen, swooped down to deliver his weekly letter from home. He greeted and fed his owl as he unhurriedly opened the letter and read it through.
There wasn't anything different in it than there usually was. But, tacked on to the end, was an out-of-routine question about Harry Potter. Is it true what the Prophet is saying about Harry Potter?
Surprised, Cedric looked up from his letter so he could read along with Andras, who, unlike him, actually read the Daily Prophet, and didn't seem to mind how unreliable it proved to be every time. He found out that the Prophet was running a story on the Boy Who Lived's public return to the wizarding world before he even took a look at the paper. The entire hall was already talking about the story and passing the paper along to their neighbors.
"Can I see that?" Cedric asked Andras. Andras angled the paper so they could look on together. The loud headline news proudly displayed on the front page was very eye-catching. It would be hard for anyone to miss.
BOY WHO LIVED RETURNS AFTER FIFTEEN YEARS!
HARRY POTTER ENROLLS IN HOGWARTS AND JOINS GRYFFINDOR HOUSE
Cedric didn't bother to read the rest of it. He was sure he didn't want to know what they said about Harry and all the things they thought they knew. He was much more concerned with knowing how Harry was taking this.
He obviously wasn't the only one who wanted to see as most everyone was intermittently glancing at the sixth year while they read their paper. Harry looked tremendously uncomfortable and appeared as though he were contemplating fleeing the hall. Weasley and Longbottom were trying to get him to remain calm and keep all the eyes off him. This wasn't working very well as the longer people read the paper, the more talk that filled the hall.
Finally, when the noise level was the highest Cedric had ever heard it, Headmaster Dumbledore stood to address them. His face was that of someone attempting to contain a lot of anger. It was an expression none of the students had ever had the misfortune of seeing on the powerful wizard. This was most uncharacteristic of the headmaster.
"That will be quite enough," he commanded, his voice not rising but managing to reach everyone despite it. He waved his hand and all the food and tableware promptly disappeared. "Breakfast has come to an end; I believe you all have classes to be getting to." With a controlled frown and eyes devoid of his trademark twinkle, he added, "I do not want to hear of this unfortunate business again. Dismissed."
Students were quick to shuffle out of the Great Hall. It was the fastest and most silent emptying of the hall to date. Cedric heard not even a peep until he and the others were well out of range. No one dared to question the headmaster until they were sure he couldn't hear.
"Has he gone mad?" sixth-year Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, voiced loudly in an affronted manner, as though the headmaster had dealt a personal slight against him. His two brain dead cronies shrugged from either side of him. Malfoy amended, "Well, more mad would be the correct question, I suppose. That Dumbledore has never been quite right in the head, has he?"
"Shut up, Malfoy! You don't know what you're talking about," Ron Weasley spoke up from somewhere.
The crowd in the Entrance Hall immediately parted to form a circle around the two rivals. Cedric looked around but was unable to see Harry anywhere in sight. Perhaps he'd been asked to stay after.
Malfoy seemed smugly pleased as he watched Weasley through his belittling silver eyes. "What did you say, Weasel?" he drawled. "Have you some knowledge to impart onto us about how the Muggle lover's actions were not expected senile behavior?"
Weasley stepped menacingly closer to the Slytherin, his temper written all over his face in an interesting shade of red that can only be described as Weasley red. Malfoy's cronies were quick to get in Weasley's face before he could get too close, which had Malfoy smirking superiorly at the Gryffindor, like it was his own strength that was backing him up.
Cedric realized this was going nowhere fast and decided to intervene before the professors came out and had a chance to themselves. He came between the sixth years, his wand at the ready just in case things got out of hand, though he doubted he would need it.
"Break it up," he ordered in his best 'Head Boy' voice. He turned to the spectators. "The headmaster expects you all to be in class, so I suggest you get on with it before I begin deducting points."
The students were all fast to start moving. Cedric wasn't known for deducting points willy-nilly, he only did so when it was very necessary, even when he'd been prefect. He was a likeable Head Boy, but one who took his job seriously and followed through when rules were being broken. Malfoy and his cronies and Weasley needed a little more persuasion than the others in the form of a hard glare, but they too cleared out without protest.
Crises averted, Cedric swiftly headed to the dungeons for Potions, determined to get there before Professor Snape and not give him an excuse to make an example out of him.
-:-
He didn't see Harry again until he caught him right before lunch while he was coming down the stairs and Harry was coming up from the dungeons, from Potions he assumed. He recalled a while ago that the sixth-year N.E.W.T.s class came in at the end of his free period spent there talking about a potion with a disgruntled Potions Master, who'd been none too happy that Cedric had deprived him of his own free time.
"Hi, Harry," Cedric greeted, meeting him at the bottom of the steps.
Harry's downtrodden expression took a turn for the better as he all but beamed at him. "Hello, Cedric."
"You all right?" Cedric asked, surprised at the unusual amount of emotion on his face. Maybe the younger boy had been more upset about the article than he'd originally thought.
"Yes," was the soft reply. "I'm just not used to so many people looking at me." He smiled sheepishly, as though this were his fault.
"That's okay," Cedric assured firmly. "It must be pretty overwhelming. I doubt it's easy for anyone."
His words seemed to give some comfort to Harry. His smile was softer and more genuine, and his eyes gazed thankfully at him.
"How were your classes?" Cedric asked, leading the way to the hall.
"They were good," Harry said. His voice, though, sounded very skeptical.
"What's wrong?"
Harry grimaced and kept quiet for a second. Then, with a sigh, he finally asked, "Should they be so…easy?"
Cedric blinked, bewildered. He glanced at the Gryffindor. "Easy?"
"Yes; very much so," Harry confirmed. He bit his lip in a way that had Cedric's gaze immediately focusing on the action. "Perhaps it is just me."
Cedric decided it was now fine to ask what he'd been wondering all along, especially as Harry had brought up the subject. "Who taught you before you came to Hogwarts?"
Harry looked at him, confusion in his emerald eyes. "Did you not read the paper?"
"No," answered Cedric, marveling at the fact that the Prophet had actually gotten something right.
"Good," Harry said decisively. "It was all rubbish, anyway."
Cedric laughed. The Daily Prophet had kept up its track record, after all. "What did it say?"
"There is apparently speculation that I attended a top-notch remote school that houses the most powerful wizards and witches in the world," drawled Harry, punctuating the end of his explanation with an eye roll.
Cedric couldn't keep the highly amused smile off his face. This was the first time Harry had showcased any behavior resembling that of a typical teenager's. It was a refreshing sight.
"Most of the students believe you were homeschooled by your mother, though now that that drivel's been printed, their beliefs will have changed to mirror it," Cedric revealed.
"That, at least, is much closer to the truth," acknowledged Harry. "But I was not taught exclusively by my mother. She doesn't have that kind of time while also raising three boys."
Harry has brothers? Cedric thought.
He'd never heard that tidbit about the Potters, and wondered why that had never been made public when everything else about Harry's life was on display. But if they were not going to Hogwarts, they were probably born long after the Potter heir's disappearance.
"Exclusively?" he repeated. "So she's taught you some of the time?"
Harry nodded and elucidated, "Only during holiday breaks when my private teachers were on vacation. Even then, it was only language and some Charms work."
"Private teachers? That must be why you think it's easy," Cedric guessed.
"Do you think that is why?" Harry asked, looking at him. When Cedric nodded, he said, "I suppose you are right. I've been told my teachers are some of the best people in their field; having their undivided attention on me certainly increases my chances."
Cedric raised a brow at his casual attitude about the whole thing, as if it were common to have private teachers who were the best at their job and, as a result, view the curriculum of one of the best wizarding schools in the world as facile. It could be that he didn't realize it wasn't normal. Cedric had, after all, witnessed the way he was uneasy with what was considered average for most everyone and the way he'd accepted things out of the ordinary.
In the end, however, Cedric didn't much care. He liked that Harry was different, and if he learned more information that set him apart, then that was all well and good, too. He'd take anything that would shed light on the enigma that was Harry Potter.
Today, feeling like he needed to show some support for his new friend after the ill-received article, Cedric walked Harry to his seat at the Gryffindor table, uncaring of the gazes practically burning holes in his back. Weasley gave him an approving nod, but what made it worth it was the happy smile on Harry's face that was solely for him.
The moment Cedric sat in his own seat for lunch, he was bombarded by questions from his eager best friend.
"Did you see it, then? How did he look? Did his face really turn purple?"
Cedric backed away when he got really close. "What are you talking about?" he asked.
Andras stared at him shrewdly. Then, pouting, he sat back, clearly dissatisfied. "You didn't see anything."
Raising a brow at him, he waited to be filled in. Andras wouldn't tell him anything, however, so he looked to answers from the boy sitting next to him, Étienne. "What is he on about?"
Étienne carefully wiped his mouth with his napkin, taking his sweet time until he finally replied, "Evidently, Professor Snape roundly scolded the Malfoy brat when ee made fun of Potter for the article during Potions."
"Scolded?" piped in Andras, sounding like this mere word weren't enough to describe what he probably thought was an epic moment. "He took points from Slytherin!"
Now Cedric was interested. The Potions Master never deducted points from his own House. "How many points?"
"Fifteen? Twenty? That detail is being debated." Andras waved it off. "What does it matter how much? I heard he was so angry, his face was shaking and he turned purple!" Andras laughed. "Who turns purple?"
Étienne's expression was one of great amusement as he watched their friend. "Ee finds this particular point très amusant."
Cedric watched Andras as well, equally amused by how humorous he thought Professor Snape allegedly turning purple was. Though, more baffling was how the professor could accomplish such a feat considering how pale he was.
This explained why the Gryffindor had been leaving the dungeons late, and why he'd seemed so upset. But it was another thing Harry had to endure gossip about. As if the article hadn't been enough, it had to bring about all these issues along with it.
Cedric felt more protective of his charge than before. The professors were clearly defending Harry from something, to the point that they weren't reticent about doing it out in the open where others could see and possibly call them on favoritism (though he couldn't think of anyone in their right mind who would point out Professor Snape's favoritism).
He would like to know why but, even more so, he too wanted to protect Harry from whatever it was they were watching out for.
-:-
In what had become another routine along with their walk to breakfast, Cedric accompanied Harry to his rooms again after dinner Wednesday evening.
Immediately after the meal came to an end and he left the hall, he broke off from Andras and Étienne, who were headed to the Dorm, and waited for Harry to come out. He did so a minute later, his friends Weasley and Longbottom—along with Weasley's Quidditch friend and Gryffindor Chaser, Gaston Ysbarre—not far behind.
"Diggory," Weasley spoke before anything could be said, "can I talk to you a second?"
Longbottom and he exchanged looks, and then he gestured Cedric to the side, ignoring Harry's inquiries as to what he was doing. Cedric himself wanted to know, but he complied and followed the sixth year, dodging the other students still coming from the Great Hall.
Weasley and he had never been anything to each other but House Quidditch team rivals, and now that Weasley had been made captain, their rivalry would become something much more competitive. But with Harry in the equation, it seemed they had more connecting them besides Quidditch.
He just hoped Weasley didn't think to threaten him because while it might have been effective when the professors had done it, he didn't think he could ever be intimidated by a younger student. Not even one who'd grown so tall that he now stood at Cedric's own formidable height, and who probably wasn't finished growing.
The redhead proved him wrong, however, when his normally infamous temper didn't make an appearance. Instead, Weasley stuck his hand out and waited expectantly for Cedric to shake it. A little bemused by this unforeseen turn of events, Cedric grasped the Gryffindor's hand and shook it.
"Thanks for looking out for Harry," Weasley said once they released each other's hand. He ran that hand through his red hair in a sheepish manner and admitted, "I could never understand why everyone thought you were so great. I didn't think you were anything special."
"Thanks," Cedric said dryly.
Weasley gave him a crooked grin. "I get it now," he confessed. "You're all right, Diggory. Anyone who can get Harry to like them after only a day is okay in my books."
Cedric raised an inquisitive brow. "Is he usually not so accepting?"
"You have no idea," Weasley divulged, chuckling as he went back to the other sixth years.
Harry came to him the moment Weasley and the others left. "He didn't say anything untoward, did he?"
"Oh, no," Cedric said truthfully, leading the way to the grand staircase. "He only thanked me."
"For what?" asked Harry, his brows furrowed as he fell into step with him.
"For looking out for you," replied Cedric, watching the younger boy's face closely.
Harry blushed lightly and his steps faltered just before they climbed the stairs—the first time his stride was anything other than the picture of elegance. Cedric stopped also, standing in front of Harry and returning his searching, unsure gaze.
"I do not want you to feel as though you're obligated to do this," Harry confided, his bangs covering his eyes when he looked down. "No matter what the others might have said to you, I would not like it if you were forced to do something you do not want to."
Cedric wondered how much of what the professors said to him Harry heard. He had been there for Professor Black's rather unabashed threat and it was possible that he had listened from the other side when Professor McGonagall had talked to him, but there was no feasible way he could have heard Professor Snape since he'd been on the other side of the hall at the time. As for the headmaster, it had been hard for Cedric himself to hear his hushed voice.
Cedric consciously fought not to reach over and reassuringly touch Harry. He knew the boy wasn't very keen on outsiders touching him, and he didn't want to presume he'd be one of the few whose touch Harry could tolerate.
He settled for as comforting a voice as he could manage, "You don't have to worry about that, Harry. I've never done anything I haven't wanted to, and I'm not about to start now."
The two were so engrossed in their discussion that they didn't notice until it was too late that a student was angrily ambling his way down the stairs. He bumped violently into Cedric and would have knocked him down had the Head Boy not been leaning against the railing.
"Watch it, Diggory!" the student who Cedric recognized as Slytherin Keeper Miles Bletchley bellowed. "Now that you're Head Boy you think you rule the school?"
Cedric didn't get the chance to say anything in his defense as the large seventh year was already moving towards the dungeon stairs, but he deducted ten points from Slytherin for misconduct. Thus he didn't quite notice it when Harry left his side until he heard a muffled groan coming from the direction Bletchley had lumbered off to.
The sight that met him when he turned around was not one he would have ever imagined in a million years. Harry held a struggling Bletchley up against the wall, a look of such fierce anger on his face that would have better men than the Slytherin pissing in their pants. Cedric was so stunned he didn't make a move towards them.
Harry's lips bared in a snarl. "Apologize," he growled.
Bletchley's wild eyes shifted from Harry to Cedric. "G-get your hands off me! Are you out of your mind, Potter?"
With amazing strength that came from Merlin knew where, Harry held the larger student up even higher. He came close to his face and coldly whispered, "Apologize or I shall make you dearly regret the day you even thought ill of Cedric."
Then Bletchley jumped in his grasp, as though he'd been shocked by lightning. "Okay, okay!" he cried shakily. "Diggory, I'm sorry!"
Harry snarled in a disgusted manner and unceremoniously dropped the Keeper. Bletchley quickly stood to his feet and hightailed it out of there, hobbling down the dungeon staircase two at a time.
Cedric did not spare him a glance, continuing to watch Harry, whose eyes seemed to have changed color during the incident. There was an amber light in them swirling in with the emerald, glinting in a malevolent, animalistic way that froze Cedric's insides. But then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone and Cedric was beginning to think he might have imagined it.
Harry was back to his normal, mild disposition, and he was giving Cedric an inquisitive look. "Are you ready to go?"
Cedric refused to push the issue aside. He knew what he'd seen, and he certainly hadn't imagined it, no matter if Harry wanted to act like he had. "What was that?" he asked.
"What was what?" Harry returned, the expression on his face static.
Cedric gave him an incredulous look. "Whatever you just did with Bletchley," he said slowly, as if speaking to a particularly daft child.
Harry's response was a shy smile. "Oh, that. Well, it was rather rude of him to lay blame on you when it was he who slammed into you." He shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably when all Cedric could do was stare. After glancing at the nearest window, he said, "I'd better get back to my quarters; Sirius is expecting me."
Taking it for the cue it was, Cedric led the way up the stairs. Neither of them spoke on their stroll to Harry's rooms, Cedric because he was still contemplating what had happened and Harry because he seemed very upset—about what, Cedric could only assume.
The door to Harry's room swung open the moment they walked up to it. Professor Black's face shown from the other side, and he took one look at Harry before the happy creases gave way to worry.
"What's the matter, Harry?" he asked, and then promptly threw Cedric an accusing look.
Harry went from upset to serene in an instant. He moved closer to his godfather and the professor was quick to gather him in his arms.
Harry's voice was muffled in the professor's shoulder as he brokenly said, "I'm sorry."
Professor Black's arm hugged him closer and his hand treaded through his dark black hair, tousling it soothingly. "There's no need, cub," he murmured, the love shining in his gray eyes so immense that Cedric felt he was intruding on something special.
Without another word, he gave the two some privacy and left. Cedric would be fooling himself if he didn't admit to being very curious about what had just transpired. What was with the way Harry had so uncharacteristically handled Bletchley, and why was he dodging Cedric's questions? Why had he apologized to Professor Black, and why had the professor seemed to know exactly what Harry was talking about?
Just when he'd thought he'd gotten to know the new student, he'd been proven wrong. The more Cedric learned about Harry, the more obscurity he encountered.
Edited: 12/15/09