Here's an alternate (happy) ending for all of you who cried because Oliver died. Thank you so much for reading!
Note: This diverges from the timeline right after chapter 18 and disregards chapter 19 and the epilogue.
Disclaimer: I own nothing under copyright. See the epilogue for the full disclaimer.
Alternate Ending Part 1
Even before Oliver's sight returned, he heard wild cheering and yelling. 'I'm not dead,' he realized with a start as his eyes cleared. Underneath him was the familiar grass of the school quidditch pitch and his hands were still on Hermione's back, but he had landed to her side.
Now that he was back at the beginning of the maze and safe, everything began to piece itself together in his mind. He wasn't dead because he had been touching Hermione when she touched the portkey and it had brought him along for the ride. If they had been a few seconds slower, chances were that he would be dead right then.
Before he could even begin to process the thought, he was being tackled into rolling over by a heavy body. "You idiot!" Cedric shouted, his face red with fury, "You idiot, I thought you were smarter than to touch the bloody cup! You could have died! You nearly did die!" His voice was angry and more than a little hysterical, but his grey eyes showed the truth: he was terrified out of his mind.
The realization soothed any hurt or frustration that Oliver normally would have felt. "But I didn't," he reminded his husband, smoothing his fingertips over the flushed cheek bones, "It would take more than... that... to kill me." He had originally going for light hearted, but the reminder of his father's ultimate betrayal made that impossible.
"Shut up," Cedric snarled. Instead of doing anything drastic however, he pulled Oliver up by his stolen shirt and captured his lips in a hard kiss.
It was perfect. Sloppy, wet from the rain that had started to crash down and full of mutual fear and relief and love. Oliver couldn't help grinning like a loon when it came to him. By Merlin, he was in love!
The kiss broke and for the few seconds that his lips were free, he laughed with elation. Then he was being kissed just as fiercely by Hermione- his wife. The woman he was completely mad for and bound to for life. Everything was, in that moment, perfect.
"I love yeh," Oliver told her as soon as he came up to breathe, "I love yeh both so much. And by Merlin, marryin' yeh two was the best thing to ever happen to me." He looked to Cedric, making sure he was hearing this.
The Hufflepuff's angry frown abated until he merely looked serious. "Best thing to happen to me," he agreed.
"Same," Hermione mumbled, nuzzling Oliver's neck as she took hold of Cedric's hand. When she looked up though, she warned her fellow Gryffindor, "This doesn't mean I'm not angry at you anymore. That was stupid and reckless of you and you came this close to dying in there! But since you didn't, I think I can forgive you." She smiled slightly, seeming worn and tired more than anything.
Oliver sobered, but the corners of his lips were still tilted up. He could deal with that.
With a roar, Clodagh tackled them all right before Ron and Ginny joined the fray, the latter two mainly demanding answers of Hermione. Less enthusiastically but still grinning widely, Titanica knelt and gathered them each up in turn for hugs. Professor Lowe applauded a few feet away, pride shining in her usually cold grey eyes.
Oliver was so wrapped up in the revelry going on around him- and the shock of being alive- that he didn't notice anything was wrong until Hermione frowned. "What is it?" he asked, quirking a brow.
"Where's Harry?" she called, looking around for him.
When Oliver searched the area visually, he realized he wasn't there. Neither was Moody, or whoever was pretending to be Moody. It was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over him at the realization.
From the look of panic that flitted across Professor Lowe's face, she had reached the same conclusion. Ignoring civilities, she walked over and began harassing Professor Dumbledore about it. Not even a moment later she ran off, the headmaster and Snape following rapidly and leaving Professor McGonagall to take care of things down here.
Though he was still worried about Harry, Oliver allowed himself to relax a little. If anyone could be trusted to find Harry, it would be Professors Dumbledore and Lowe.
"Let's go," Cedric suggested, "I'd like some peace, I think." His lips were curled up a little, but the expression was strained.
The agreement was unspoken as Hermione, Cedric an Oliver made their excuses. Not a minute later they realized that it was going to be difficult to get away, however. Everyone was trying to congratulate Cedric or ask what the hell happened.
Quickly Hermione used a few Notice Me Not charms, allowing them to slide through the crowds much more easily now. They held hands the whole way to the Room of Requirement. Oliver understood instinctively; they all needed to be sure the others were really there, that this wasn't just a hopeful delusion. He had no issues with this.
In the end, they all disrobed and just laid in the bed curled up together. The silence was full of emotion but Oliver absorbed it like a sponge as he curled around Hermione with his back to Cedric's chest. He was here and safe with his spouses. Everything was right in the world.
The week between the ill-fated Third Task and the Leaving Feast seemed to go by faster than he could say "Hogwarts." Of course, it slowed down whenever Oliver was cornered and questioned about the Third Task, but that didn't really count. Not when one of the things he dreaded most was coming up: leaving forever.
During the Leaving Feast however, he got a surprise. During the end of year speech, Professor Dumbledore explained what really happened during the Third Task. From where he sat at the Gryffindor table between Cedric and Hermione, Oliver listened with rapt attention.
"The end of another year," Professor Dumbledore mused, before projecting his voice more, "There is much that I would like to say to you tonight, but before anything, I feel that we need to give thanks that four innocent lives were spared. I speak of Harry Potter, and Hermione, Cedric and Oliver Diggory." He looked to the Gryffindor table and in the candlelight, his blue eyes sparkled a little brighter.
Oliver was caught between grinning goofily and shrinking down in his seat. They had sent the marriage certificate back to the Ministry the day after the Third Task. Legally they were Oliver Diggory, Hermione Diggory, and Cedric Diggory now.
Despite the whispering of the crowd, Professor Dumbledore continued, "The Ministry of Magic does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe, or because they think I should not tell you, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies: Lord Voldemort is back."
There was practically an uproar at the headmaster's words. Several students flinched at the name, others swore Professor Dumbledore was off his rocker, and still others just stared in shock. Only Harry, Ron and the Diggorys stayed quiet, all grim faced.
Once the talking had died down, Professor Dumbledore continued, "It is by chance, luck and courage in the face of almost certain doom that Messrs. Diggory and Potter, and Mrs. Diggory escaped. For the kind of honor that few have shown in facing Lord Voldemort, I honor them."
This time Oliver felt his neck turn Gryffindor red as cups almost all over the hall were raised. Only Slytherin was unmoved, but who bloody cared about them? Hermione's eyes were shining in wonder and Cedric was rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, while Harry bore a rather solemn expression.
Professor Dumbledore then made a speech about how the Triwizard Tournament was to further ties of magical understanding and all that. There was a piece that struck Oliver as almost prophetic though: "Every guest in this Hall will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemorts gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.
"It is my belief- and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, four students were nearly taken from our midst. When you are tasked to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember this."
The headmaster then gave house points: fifty for Harry and fifty for Oliver (his neck turned bright red again) due to their courage under fire, and another fifty to Cedric for his calm determination and willingness to do what he needed to do. Even though he knew it would spell out his death. Of course, Gryffindor won the House Cup for the fourth year in a row to the ire of Slytherin and Ravenclaw.
There had been no big ceremony in which the Triwizard Cup and winnings had been presented. The events of that night, and the losses that had been close to being suffered, were too bitter for that. Instead Harry and Cedric had convinced Fudge to simply give them the winnings and let it be. Cedric decided that he didn't want the money and, with Harry, gave his portion to the Weasley twins for their joke shop. He kept the Cup though.
On the train nothing interesting happened- besides Oliver, Cedric, Hermione, Ron, Harry, Fred and George hexing Malfoy and his cronies with ugly results. The tentacles that the ferret grew on his face were especially interesting. Oliver was rather fond of the purple tinted skin one of the cronies had though, especially since it had the texture of corn flakes.
Then the train stopped and everyone deboarded. Leaving Malfoy and his cronies unconscious in the corridor, Oliver and Cedric hauled their and Hermione's trunks off the train. "Your parents are meeting you, right?" asked the Hufflepuff as he stacked his trunk onto their husband's. Hermione's went onto a second trolley that Cedric commandeered.
"Right," she confirmed, biting her lip. Obviously she was nervous about this meeting. Oliver couldn't blame her.
"It'll be fine, sparrow," Oliver assured her, despite the nervous trembling of his hands on the trolley handle, "I'm sure they'll be reasonable about this. We don't have to mention anythin' about marriage." They had only told Harry and Ron because of Dumbledore's speech.
With a weak smile at him, Hermione took a deep calming breath. "Here goes nothing," Oliver swore he heard her mutter before she led the way through the barrier to the muggle world.
Behind her, Oliver and Cedric exchanged looks. In an instant, they had come to a silent consensus: to the Grangers, they were simply Hermione's boyfriends. There was no need to alarm or alienate their clueless in-laws.
One at a time they then walked through the barrier. It wasn't difficult to find Hermione again, even with the crowd obscuring her; the bond led the way. By following the mental tugging on it, they found her embracing a man that seemed to be her father while a woman looked on. Those must have been her parents, as she had her mother's curls and face shape while she seemed to have inherited her father's coloring.
"Mum, Dad, I have a couple of people to introduce you to," Hermione told them, pulling back from her father's arms. Smiling a little nervously, she gestured to Oliver then Cedric as she introduced them, "This is Oliver and this is Cedric, um, my... boyfriends. Oliver, Cedric, these are my parents."
The Grangers quickly looked at each other, their daughter, the boys behind her, and back to each other. "Boyfriends, as in plural?" Mr. Granger inquired. He seemed more than a little bemused at the concept and Mrs. Granger appeared a little dazed.
Obviously figuring that a little charm was in order, Cedric stepped forward. "Yes sir," he clarified with a smile, "Your daughter is dating us both and we couldn't be more fortunate. She's a wonderful and very unique person." He held out a hand to Mr. Granger.
Still very nervous, Oliver took Mrs. Granger's offered hand and shook it. Her pleasant smile reminded him of Hermione's, calming him immensely. When he and Cedric circled each other and Oliver wrung hands with Mr. Granger, some of the intimidation faded away. Not only did Hermione have her father's eyes, but it didn't hurt that Oliver was nearly half a foot taller than him.
"It's great to meet yeh," the former Gryffindor told them both, giving them his crooked grin.
This time when the Grangers looked at each other, Hermione rolling her eyes in the meanwhile, they seemed to be having a silent conversation. There were a few gestures that let Oliver guess as to the subject (he and Cedric, from the jabbing motion Mr. Granger made with his head toward them) but not much more could be discerned.
Nervously, Oliver tapped his heel on the tile floor. Now that he was actually meeting them, the Grangers weren't intimidating so much as the possibility of them not approving of him and Cedric. He genuinely wanted Hermione's parents to like them.
Not quite a minute after it started, the silent conference ended. "Would you like to come to lunch with us?" asked Mrs. Granger politely, "I think I would like to meet your parents as well." Her blue eyes roved the station, obviously looking for anyone who resembled Cedric or Oliver.
A shadow passed over Cedric's face. It was an unintended reminder that his parents were no longer with him.
"Lunch would be nice, Mrs. Granger, but, err, you'll have to settle for just us," Oliver explained awkwardly, reaching over to squeeze Cedric's shoulder in support, "His parents passed last week and I... no longer live at home, for very good reasons." He grimaced at his own reminder, wondering what he was going to do now. While he didn't live with his father anymore (the hell he would ever go back there) he didn't exactly have his own place yet.
"I'm so sorry," Mrs. Granger said, sympathy in her voice. Mr. Granger was frowning, seemingly wondering what those "Very good reasons," were, but said nothing.
"How about that sandwich place a few blocks away?" suggested Hermione brightly, saving the day, "They seemed to have plenty of variety when I poked my nose in there at the beginning of the year." She took Cedric and Oliver's hands, giving each a reassuring squeeze.
"That sounds perfect," Mr. Granger agreed. Pointedly he took the cart with Hermione's trunk on it and began to steer it to the exit. Mrs. Granger followed with an exasperated sigh.
Grinning down at Hermione and over at Cedric, Oliver took even himself by surprise. He led the way after his oblivious in-laws with a loud laugh, leaving Cedric to pull the trolley along behind them. It would all work out, he was sure of it.
That summer, Oliver and Cedric stayed at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. At first it was a little awkward, as they still felt bad about threatening Sirius, but after a few weeks three were often seen together in the library or one of the parlors. Of course, that was when the pair had time.
Cedric buried his parents in a little church yard right outside Ottery St. Catchpole the first week of the summer, his spouses right beside him for support. After that he spent a great deal of time with the twins, buying certain controlled substances for their inventions under the terms that he would help work on them. By the time Hermione got there, he was a trusted business partner and some of their crazy humor had rubbed off on him.
Meanwhile, Oliver trained with the other reserves of Puddlemere United every second day. The initial meet-the-team had been a little awkward though...
"Coach?" called Oliver, poking his head into the office, "Oliver Wood in." It felt strange to use his birth name again, he had been getting so used to Diggory.
"Ah, there you are," the older man grinned, getting up from behind his cluttered desk, "Right on time Wood, the others should be here right about now." He clapped Oliver on the back as he led the way onto the pitch.
"I need the name on the back of my jersey changed," Oliver told his new coach, his stomach roiling with nerves. He wondered how his new team would take his sexuality, not to mention his marital status. Hopefully not too badly...
The coach quirked a brow at him. "Not running from an ex, are you?" he joked.
"No, actually, I got married," Oliver explained in a low voice as they entered the pitch. The rest of the team was waiting in the middle of the pitch, five men and a woman standing about in casual clothing laughing and joking. It made him a little nauseous with nerves.
"What's your new name?" asked the coach expectantly.
"Diggory," Oliver replied.
Though he was obviously dying to ask, the coach didn't. Instead, he blew a whistle so loudly that it made Oliver' ears ring.
The group in the middle of the pitch turned to look at them immediately. "Is that the newbie?" called one of the guys in the back of the group.
"The newbie's name is Oliver Diggory, Kent!" barked the coach, "Remember it!"
"Diggory? I thought we were getting Wood," said another, a large burly man with no hair on top of his head but a luxurious red beard.
Oliver put a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. "I got married a couple of weeks ago," he spoke up for himself, glad to see that there was barely a tremble in his voice.
"Congratulations!"
"Told you so!"
"The Quibbler was right?!"
The coach's voice rose above everyone else's as he ordered, "Don't get him too far wasted this time, eh?" He then patted Oliver on the shoulder and turned around, only to stop where he was.
Curious and a little overwhelmed, Oliver looked over his shoulder. He grinned when he saw who it was, turning the whole way around to wave. Suddenly, all nervousness within him died.
Cedric was jogging across the field, a rucksack slung over his shoulder. The hand that wasn't clutching the bag rose up and waved in greeting. The moment he was within five feet, he swung the old leather bag from his shoulder and walked the rest of the way to hand it to Oliver. "You forgot this," he grinned.
Taking his forgotten luggage, Oliver slapped his own forehead. "Way to go, Ollie boy," he muttered to himself, before asking his husband hypothetically, "What would I do without yeh?"
"Be stuck wherever they're getting you absolutely plastered and at the mercy of strangers," Cedric answered cheerfully, "The lighter in the front pocket is a portkey. It'll bring you home at one in the morning. Until then, have fun and remember that we're out of hangover potion!" He then patted Oliver on the shoulder and turned around to leave.
"Not going to wish him luck?" teased the only woman on the team.
Cedric turned back to look at the speaker, hands in his pockets and an easy smile on his face. "Well, no," he replied bluntly, "That would imply that I think he needs luck to succeed, and I have a little more faith in him than that." Leaving the team stunned, and Oliver very flattered, he left the pitch with a wink.
There was silence for a moment, before a chorus of, "Ooohhh!" swept through the rest of the team. When Oliver turned back around to look at them, he saw with alarm that they were all wearing rather creepy grins. Had they all gone mad?
For the first time, Oliver rather wished he hadn't been recruited. "Err, what?" he asked awkwardly.
"You married one of the Triwizard Champions?" asked the bearded man in awe.
A little lost, Oliver nodded. Little did he know, question and answer time had begun and he would never again have privacy around the Puddlemere United Reserve Team.
Sure enough, at one in the morning Oliver reappeared in the most noble and filthy House of Black. Thankfully Cedric had the foresight to know that there would be copious amounts of vomiting after that particular journey and had the portkey set him down in the second floor bathroom. Swearing to never again let Sophia talk him into a drinking contest, Oliver rinsed his mouth out afterward and crawled across the hall. It was pretty much impossible for him to get up into the bed, so he ended up sleeping on the floor with a cloak as a makeshift blanket.
And just as Oliver had been told, there was no hangover potion in the morning. It could only have been intentional, as Sirius made sure the cabinets were well stocked with it usually. For a Hufflepuff, it seemed that Cedric had a rather wide sadistic streak.
When Hermione was able to come that summer, the triad began experimenting with their bond. What they came up with was astounding. As time passed they could feel each others' emotions and locations with increasing accuracy and range until it seemed almost like they were reading each others' thoughts. It could get right annoying sometimes, though at others... it came in very useful at others.
After some research they (or rather, Hermione with some help from Cedric) discovered that triads were formed most often during and directly after periods of conflict- that they were a force of significant martial power. Reading between the lines, they deduced that a bonded group could lend focus and even pure magic to each other. Thus, the reports of things that should be well beyond the magical ability of a single person such as the shield charm that deflected a Cruciatus curse and the witch that blew a whole house to bits with a single Reductor curse.
To say that it brought a few ideas into their heads would be an understatement. The intellectuals that they were at heart, Cedric and Hermione rapidly descended into a bunch of technical jargon that Oliver had never paid much attention to in classes. Only when they asked for his opinion on testing that side of their bond did he come back around and agree with whatever they had come up with.
At first they were on an impasse, as they didn't know whether the Trace was still on Hermione or if their magic all mixing together had confused or nullified it. Then there were the triplet issues of when, where and what they would practice. The only thing they had figured out was that Oliver was the magical "center" of their bond so to speak, the one that evened them out and acted as somewhat of a conductor.
In the end, all questions were answered at the very end of the summer.
Everyone was running around like headless chickens trying to get everything together for the journey to school and tempers were rapidly fraying. Mrs. Weasley was shouting over the portrait of Mrs. Black, who everyone had stopped attempting to quiet. The ruckus in the house would only wake her up again.
Right as everyone seemed to be ready and assembled at the front door, Mrs. Black made the mistake that solved many, many conundrums: she started flirting with Cedric. Again. Over the last few months she had gained a soft spot for him that rapidly developed into a monstrous crush, even to the point of being quiet when he asked.
Oliver hated it. When she got there, Hermione came to hate it too. They never said anything, but slowly their patience waned.
"Mrs. Black, could you please stop insulting everyone?" requested Cedric tiredly. He was leaning on the wall with that look on his face that signalled an oncoming headache, having slept very little the previous night.
"For you, yes," Mrs. Black agreed very amiably.
Very visibly, Hermione scowled at the painting and Oliver could feel his eyes narrowing. Could the damned painting not take a hint?
Then Mrs. Black winked at Cedric and all hell broke loose. Before anyone could even blink, there was a bright flash of light and a loud bang from inside the corridor, inciting various yells and screams from the occupants. Unnoticed to anyone outside of the triad, a few thumps signaled objects falling onto the floor.
As it was, Oliver had only winced and covered his eyes. He could feel a little of his magic gone, and sensed some of Cedric's and a great deal of Hermione's around them like magical fallout.
"What in Merlin's name was that?" demanded Sirius, brandishing his wand dangerously.
It didn't take long for Oliver to realize what had happened. All it took was looking in front of him and seeing the burn marks on the wall where the portrait of Mrs. Black had hung for so many years. When he looked at the floor, he grinned at the pieces of charred canvas and gilt frame that littered the area. Served her right for flirting with his husband!
"You really know how to lose your temper, don't you?" asked Cedric with obvious relief, "Thanks, I was beginning to get a little frightened of her."
Hermione's eyes were glittering with satisfaction as she lowered her hand. "It was my pleasure," she replied in a perfectly pleasant tone that didn't cover up how much she meant her words.
If Oliver weren't her bondmate, he would have been intimidated. As it was, he found Hermione's display of power and jealousy very... arousing. From the gleam in Cedric's eyes and the wicked smirk that had settled onto his lips, he did as well.
Meanwhile, the rest of the group was almost silent. They stared at either the wall, Hermione or the remains of the portrait.
"If you weren't already taken, I'd ask you to marry me," Sirius said, awestruck. It was no secret that he had been trying to find a way to get rid of his mother's painting for ages now.
Laughing, Hermione shook her head. "And if I weren't, I might accept," she replied good-naturedly, "As it is, I am and I'm very happy with them."
That year, Oliver found that he missed Hogwarts more than he had ever thought. It probably had a little something to do with two special people who were still there, he realized not quite a week into September. Remembering that they wouldn't be back until the winter holidays started only made him more lonely.
From their letters, things had gotten bad thanks to the toad of a woman that the Ministry had foisted onto them. She wasn't letting them use spells at all and had put Harry in a week of detention for saying that Voldemort was back. The very thoughts made Oliver's teeth grind with frustration.
The bond told him a great deal about Hermione and Cedric's emotional (and sometimes physical) states, but he practically lived for their Hogsmeade visits. Those were the only times that they could see each other, and they took advantage of the precious few hours together unashamedly. It became a point of teasing among the Reserves that Oliver was always a ball of sunshine after seeing Cedric. The reminders just made him smile brighter.
It never turned into anything more heated than snogging through those long months; they had higher standards than that. Instead, they mainly walked around the sleepy little village or sat in the Three Broomsticks. A couple of times they visited that second hand store where Oliver had originally found the locket that he had altered and given Hermione for Christmas, but usually left after just browsing.
The meeting at the Hog's Head had gone astoundingly well, once they got past the initial curiosity of the defense group's possible members. Some of the rumors that had been confirmed, Oliver was especially surprised at. Killing a basilisk with the sword of Godric Gryffindor was no laughing feat in general, but hearing that Harry had done it when he was twelve... That was an eye opener and no mistake.
As he wasn't a student and would not be able to make it to meetings, Oliver wasn't officially a member of the fledgeling association. At first he had rued that, wishing he could help. The moves that Umbridge was making were ridiculous, and that she was good friends with Mr. Wood was the icing on the cake.
Thankfully, Mr. Wood had the good sense to not come looking for his only child. If he had... well, Oliver privately admitted that he would probably murder the man. The previous May, he had discovered a hatred of the man the likes of which he had never felt before and hoped never to again.
Whenever he wasn't training, in Hogsmeade or dealing with the everyday necessities, he was either hanging out with the team or doing missions for the Order of the Phoenix. Busy as he was, despite the utter boredom of secretly guarding a door in the Ministry itself, time flew. Yet it never seemed to fly fast enough for him. All he wanted was for Cedric and Hermione to come home to him.
Then the expected end-of-year battle against Voldemort came, and suddenly Oliver wished that the year had gone more slowly. He wouldn't have minded if time had stopped, in fact. Just remembering gave him the shivers...
There had been nothing special about that day. It was a practice day for Oliver, and so he was doing what he did best- blocking the pitch hoops. The wind in his hair, the sun on his face, it was almost perfect.
He had begun feeling unusually sore in his left arm, but it was nothing alarming. Probably just overstretched it on the last catch. Then blazing pain erupted in his chest.
"Oliver!"
"Diggory, what's wrong?"
"Get a mediwizard!"
His teammates rushed over concernedly, Alec- the burly, bearded Chaser- hovering right beside him and steadying him. Bemused and still in pain, Oliver realized that he was tilted dangerously on his broom. The pain was receding into a dull ache, so he straightened up and landed as best he could.
Now that his mental guards were down and he wasn't focusing on anything, Oliver could feel his bond mates- their terror and desperation. Or at least Cedric's. He was getting nothing whatsoever from Hermione except sheer agony in the middle of his chest.
Not caring how it would look, he shucked his outer robes and pulled up the sleeve of his t-shirt to make absolutely sure. Panicking, Oliver was completely unaware of everything around him. All that mattered was the agony in his- in Hermione's- chest and the need to see. To make sure that she wasn't slipping away from him.
All three bands of the bond were their original colors, and Oliver let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Now that he knew they were alive, he had to figure out where they were. He touched the bond with his eyes closed, going on instinct and following their connection to Cedric.
What he saw made him snap back to his own body fast. They were somehow inside the Department of Mysteries, behind the very door that he had been a part of the task force to guard. 'Fat lot of good that did,' Oliver thought grimly, opening his eyes.
"Oliver, what's happening?" asked Sophia, looking into his face with wide eyes.
"I can't talk now, I need to go," Oliver blurted out, "They need me." Still moving on complete instinct, his mind elsewhere, he wrapped his magic around him like a cloak and turned on his heel. The apparition was uncomfortable and draining, feeling like he was moving through jello as he focused on nothing but Cedric and Hermione and following their bond to them.
When he opened his eyes, he was in the Department of Mysteries and literally standing over Hermione. She was unconscious on the floor, just like he had seen through Cedric's eyes.
Rage flowed through Oliver's veins like fire. There was no telling what he was going to do to whatever bastard had hurt his wife.
Then he realized that half the people on his side were unconscious- a blonde girl, Hermione, Ginny and Clodagh. Longbottom's nose was bleeding heavily, Titanica had one arm wrapped around her torso and was hunched over and Ron was giggling senselessly. Only Cedric and Harry looked unharmed so far that he could see, while there were eight Death Eaters surrounding them.
Luckily, they were all too stunned by his sudden appearance to curse him. As it was, Oliver himself was surprised that he had managed to not only get through the wards around the stadium but also the Ministry's plus the extra layer on this area. That shouldn't have been possible.
Taking advantage of the unexpected distraction and reinforcement, Harry held a little glass ball above his head and sprinted away, shouting and taunting. The bottom seemed to drop out of Oliver's stomach as he realized what his old Seeker was doing. He was sacrificing himself, trying to draw the Death Eaters away from them. He had what they wanted, the prophecy, so he knew that they would follow.
Most did, as did Longbottom. The remaining couple began to fire spells rapidly though, forcing battle with the remaining three
"I've never been more glad to see you," Cedric panted. In the dim light, sweat shone on his forehead and neck. The battle had been going on for quite some time, it seemed.
"And I've never been less glad to see yeh," Oliver retorted. Able to use both hands for spell casting, he was even with the Death Eaters who had remained and weren't busy with Titanica.
Despite being injured, she seemed to be holding up well. At least she was able to cast spells, though she relied more on blocking than dodging the curses that were thrown at her because of her injuries.
From the fingertips of both Cedric's hands, a shield sprang with the word, "Bulla!" It was mainly clear, but there was an iridescent sheen to it and it wrapped entirely around the small group of teens, both conscious and unconscious, like a bubble. It also seemed to be semi-permeable, as a nasty looking orange curse was deflected but one of Titanica's stunners went straight through and hit its target.
"Where did yeh learn this?" Oliver asked, impressed.
One of the two Death Eaters left was incapacitated, or perhaps killed, by his own rebounding curse. The other, Oliver and Titanica both went for and the power of the two spells slammed him into a wall.
"That book on triads, they had a glossary of spells at the back," Cedric replied distractedly as he looked around the room through his shield. Once he was sure that there were no more Death Eaters lurking about, he released the shield. He bent over and leaned down with his hands braced on his bent knees, obviously very tired. "What do we do now?" he asked.
"Do yeh have a little extra strength left? You can borrow some from me, I'm still fresh," Oliver offered, his mind churning out a plan.
"I do," Cedric answered firmly, standing straight again. Now that he was facing Oliver head on, a cut on his cheek and a gash across his arm could be seen.
"Obviously, we can apparate through wards, even powerful ones. Yeh do that and get them out of danger, and I'll make sure Harry and Longbottom don't get themselves killed," Oliver decided. He didn't wait for a confirmation, sprinting out the door and toward where he could hear a big ruckus.
How Harry and Longbottom could possibly be fighting off so many Death Eaters by themselves, he wasn't sure. All Oliver could put it down to was that it was The Boy Who Wouldn't Fucking Die, and pray that was enough. When he got to the door though, he grinned; they were saved. The rest of the Order had arrived.
Determined and in high spirits now that the end was in sight, Oliver jumped into the fray. It felt surreal to actually be fighting in the first battle of what he was certain would turn into the Second Wizarding War. Surely someone else had borrowed his body and was using it to spit out more curses than any Death Eater was able to keep up with?
The tide of the battle was turning against the Order though, no matter that they were fresh and Oliver was cutting their enemies down with more ease than he was comfortable with. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tonks' vibrant pink head unmoving on the floor and Moody slumped against the dais unconscious. Kingsley was injured and they were still badly outnumbered.
"DUBBLEDORE!" he heard Longbottom shout nearby.
Was he really there? Having Stunned Travers, Oliver took the opportunity to look around and pray that Dumbledore really was there. If so, they were saved. If not... he didn't want to think about it.
For his momentary distraction, Oliver received a small cut to his forehead. When he looked, it was Dolohov who was grinning madly at him in challenge.
Their duel was not meant to be, however. Indeed, Dumbledore had come and was now using a spell that reeled in the Death Eaters and bound them together in the middle of the room.
Relieved, Oliver slumped against the dais. It was over.
After that, he had immediately apparated to the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts where he was sure that Cedric had taken the rest of the group. Sure enough, Madame Pomfrey was working on Longbottom's nose and half the room was filled with Ron, the blonde girl, Ginny, Clodagh, and... Hermione.
Beside their wife's bed, Cedric had sat with a plaster on his cheek and bandages on his arm. He barely looked up when he heard the pop of apparition, knowing through the bond and the mere fact of their special abilities who it was. Together, they had sat beside Hermione's bed for days until she woke up.
Those were the most excruciating days of his life, not fully knowing but doubly hoping that Hermione would pull through. She was strong. She had to. And in the end, she did. For a few days she had to drink ten potions a day for a few days, but in the end she was almost as good as new and they couldn't be happier.
Of course, there was a scar where the unknown spell had hit. In the first days it was an angry red, but when it faded to light pink, it was actually kind of... pretty. It was shaped like a starburst in the middle of her chest, a circle from which many rays shot out and a few even reached the hollow of her throat and her sternum.
Hermione had been embarrassed and ashamed of it. Whenever one of them would trail their fingers over a piece of it, even over her clothing, she would move away.
At first, Oliver and Cedric thought that it was causing her pain and avoided the area as best they could. The last thing they wanted to do was hurt her. Then, after they overheard her saying that it was all healed, they put the pieces together.
"Why don't yeh want us to touch yer scar, sparrow?" Oliver had asked tiredly one night. He had gotten a good dressing down from the coach before practice, his teammates had been nosy and all he wanted to do was curl up with his spouses. But Hermione had flinched away when he had laid a hand on the area below her bust and it became obvious that this needed to get resolved before anything.
Hermione bit her lip, eyes down on her hands. They were wringing in her lap. "I... I don't want to talk about it," she tried to tell them firmly. It came out as an unsure mess.
"We know. That's why we've been givin' it space, but... it's been a month. It's fully healed and yer still pushin' us away. We can't help if yeh won't tell us what's wrong," Oliver reasoned from where he laid on the bed beside where she sat.
"You'll find it silly," Hermione denied.
"We find it silly that you're trying to hide this from us," Cedric countered from where he sat on her other side.
They were silent for a moment. The men hoped that Hermione would tell them of her own will. She obviously hoped that they would let it go.
"It's ugly," Hermione finally whispered, "It's ugly to look at, it makes my skin crawl when I touch it, and... it's proof that I'm weak." When she looked at Oliver and then Cedric, her eyes were slightly glassy.
Weak? How could she think she was weak? Puzzled at her thought process, Oliver stayed silent hoping that she would explain.
Luckily for him, she did. It was like Hermione was on a roll and unable to stop as she continued, "I wasn't quick enough or strong enough, I wasn't good enough to keep from getting hit, and... I'm a girl. Scars aren't exactly attractive on us, and I've never understood what you see in me anyways, and I'm... I'm scared. That you'll realize I'm not good enough and leave me." She forced the last words out, refusing to look either of them in the eye again.
Still not understanding, but putting his own confusion to the side, Oliver sighed. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and tilted her chin up to have her look him in the eye. What he saw blew him away- she honestly was afraid of something that would never come to pass.
"Hermione," Cedric said firmly, drawing her gaze as he caught one of her hands, "You're ours and we're not letting you go. Especially not over something as stupid as a scar." He hadn't been so serious as he was now, since the day of his parents' funeral.
"That scar, it tells a story, sparrow," Oliver told her, "Every scar does. This one though, it's special. Every time I see it, I smile because it reminds me all over again why I love yeh- yer bravery, yer loyalty, and that yer strong enough to survive what I'm sure has killed some people. It reminds me how close we came to losin' yeh."
"You're stuck with us," Cedric reminded her with a shadow of his usual grin, "I'm not sure we could let you go even if you wanted it. Besides, I've got scars from that debacle too." He pointed to the thin line across his cheek, and then held up the arm that had been sliced. There was a thick scar there, which would probably never go away since the wound was inflicted by Dark magic.
For the first time in weeks, Hermione gave them a genuine smile. It was small, and it was hesitant, but she wasn't trying to pretend. And for the moment, that was enough.
If it were possible, the following summer and school year passed even faster for Oliver. Now that Cedric had graduated he didn't feel quite as alone, but now Hermione did. Not for the first time, he found that the age gap between them sucked.
At least now there was the rotating guard duty that allowed Oliver and Cedric one day a week to be back at Hogwarts. Aside of once a month they were placed on separate shifts, but they made the most of their time with Hermione. It was worth the mild sleep deprivation to them.
Thankfully, Cedric's new bosses were great about his weekly commitments and were willing to fix his work schedule around them. Then again, they knew their mother would have their heads if they weren't. Due to his dislike of the Ministry for slandering Harry and Dumbledore, and wary of most private companies, it had only been natural for Cedric to accept Fred and George's job offer as a jack-of-all trades at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.
Then the Battle of the Astronomy Tower came. If he'd had the time, Oliver would have again wished for the year to have gone slower or time to have stopped. However, since he was on duty at the time... he didn't.
Gleeful laughter echoed around the next corridor, making Oliver freeze in place. That laughter wasn't from students, and it definitely wasn't teachers, combined with it coming from the hall where the Room of Requirement resided... Hogwarts was compromised, just as Professor Dumbledore had feared.
Thankful that he was still around the corner, Oliver took the opportunity to cast his Patronus- which, he just noticed had changed. "Loqui," he cast on the large silvery otter that had appeared, before recording his message, "Intruders on the seventh floor. Battle is here." As the animal nodded in an almost human fashion, he pulled out the old D.A. coin that he had been given as an honorary member and spelled the same message onto it. As much as he hated to admit it, the Order needed help and the D.A. were the best and closest reinforcements he could think of.
Not a minute after the Patronus floated away, there was a yelp in front of him. The intruders had come around the corner- Death Eaters, obviously as shocked to see Oliver as he was to see them. And at their lead, young Draco Malfoy.
Not quite a split second later, they were dueling fiercely. There were too many of them to handle on his own, but Oliver knew that he could at least slow them up. They couldn't be allowed to get to the students!
Desperate, Oliver tugged on the bond. It wasn't Cedric's night, but he was needed now!
Time seemed to be inching by as the Death Eaters pushed Oliver further and further back. With one hand he was holding a rebound shield up, while the other he used to throw hexes back at his enemies. They came to a junction in the hallways, which with a curse, Oliver saw Malfoy use to get past him.
Bulkier, the rest of the Death Eaters were trapped in the seventh floor corridor for the moment. Only for the moment though, as Oliver was pushed back by a purple curse just enough for a few of them to pass. He was wearing out quickly and if backup didn't get there fast...!
Only a few were able to slide into other halls however, before Cedric appeared with a small pop beside him. He was barely dressed- wearing pajama pants, an inside out shirt and Oliver's slippers- but in his eyes there was no sign of fatigue. Quickly he added his specialty bubble shield right under the rebound shield and with his other hand began tossing hexes and curses at nearly double the pace Oliver had been able to. He had always been the more talented of the two with wandwork.
That was when the rest of the Order arrived. Bill Weasley, Tonks and Remus came barreling into the corridor wands blazing. "What's going on!" Bill yelled over the ruckus.
"Some escaped to the left! I think they're going for the Astronomy Tower!" Oliver shouted back, sending a Stunner at one of his opponents.
Swearing, Bill ran in the direction indicated followed by Tonks and Remus. Around the corner, Oliver could easily hear voices he recognized shouting spells- Ron, Ginny, Clodagh and Longbottom. Now that he was far from alone in this mess, he didn't relax but felt a little more confident that they would win and get out of this alive.
Not ten minutes later Titanica and Lowe joined the fight, wand, teeth and nails bared and fighting for their lives. While the Ravenclaw fared well enough, Lowe managed to nearly lose a leg to a powerful cutting hex. The limb was only held on by a scrap of skin and tissue, and she passed out soon after Oliver and Cedric pulled her to safety behind their shield.
It was about then that Snape tore past, clutching Malfoy by his collar and ordering a retreat.
'Retreat?' Oliver wondered for a split second, confused. Then he saw the Death Eaters begin fighting more to escape than to kill, and it struck. If it weren't for the shields, he and Cedric would have been at least wounded as they stood in shock.
It took a blur of black hair and robe passing by them to break them out of it. "Harry!" shouted Cedric, taking down his shield to chase the boy.
Leaving his old Seeker to his husband, Oliver stayed where he was. As he saw it, the Death Eaters were less his problem than getting Lowe to the Hospital Wing before she bled out. Her face was unnaturally white and her breathing too shallow for comfort as it was.
Careful to keep his shield up just in case, he knelt on the floor. With a disgusted grimace, Oliver adjusted the position of the leg to where it would be if it were still fully attached and conjured a large roll of bandages and a few splints. Carefully he positioned the splints and had the bandages wind themselves around them, tying off somewhat sloppily at the ends.
Feeling a little apprehensive about what he was going to do, Oliver put one fingertip to the palm of his other hand. The chances of getting infected were sky high, but it would be worth it. Besides, Titanica an Clodagh dealt with it just fine...
"Wait! Let me through!" it was Clodagh on the other side of the shield, still in vampire mode. Her face had streaks of black on it and her hair was almost as wild as Hermione's, half cascading down her shoulders and the other half chopped to just under her chin. It seemed that a cutting hex had just missed her head.
Seeing no Death Eaters left in the area, Oliver took down the shield.
Without a thought to it, Clodagh used one of her nails to slice her palm open. The wounded hand she pressed to her aunt's lips, while the other she used to pry said lips open. Wincing, she fisted her wounded hand to make more blood flow.
Unexpectedly Lowe's eyes opened somewhat. Weakly she grabbed her niece's hand and pulled it closer, sucking on the wounds like a babe nursing. As she drank, her cheeks began to flush her skin gained some color back and her movements grew a little stronger.
Not quite a minute later, Clodagh pulled away. It took her prying her aunt off, but she managed without too much effort.
"Time to get her to Madam Pomfrey," Oliver declared with a grimace. He got to his feet and, praying that this wouldn't hurt Lowe's leg even more, levitated her to the Hospital Wing.
From there, things got even more messy. While Cedric and Hermione and somehow everyone except Bill Weasley were alright (a miracle if Oliver had ever seen one), Professor Dumbledore was dead. That was why Snape had been sounding the retreat, because their mission was done.
Disbelief settled into Oliver's stomach as the information tried to sink into his brain. Logically he knew that Professor Dumbledore would have had to die sometime, he was only human after all, and a good age too. At the same time there was a feeling almost like the headmaster was an eternal being; like he had always been and therefore would always be, and so it was impossible for him to die... Especially at the hands of a man he had trusted so much.
Bile rose up in Oliver's throat at the mere thought of the potions master. While he had never liked him and thought he was a greasy git who needed desperately to get laid, he had never thought him capable of this kind of betrayal. It seemed that everything was turning on its head that day: Death Eaters in Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore dead and what had seemed to be a minor antagonist turned to a true villain.
Then, the night turned bittersweet.
Even as Mrs. Weasley and Fleur cried in each others' arms, the doors banged open again. Not sure who to expect, everyone turned their attention to the entry. When Oliver did, his jaw fell a little open.
Possibly the last person he expected stood in the doorway, eyes going from bed to bed until he found his target: Viktor Krum. Not even pausing to greet the others in the room, he limped across the room to the bed across from Bill's where Lowe laid unconscious. As soon as he got there, Oliver saw him bend over her though his body blocked whatever he was doing.
"Viktor?" asked Fleur, a bemused frown on her beautiful face, "What are you doing 'ere?"
It was as if he just realized he wasn't alone. When Krum turned around, leaning on the bed, he took in the sight of those across the aisle with a look of surprise. "I... the story is long," he finally replied.
"Are you hurt?" Hermione immediately asked, concerned, "You're limping."
Still rather wary of his fellow quidditch player, Oliver watched carefully as Krum struggled for words.
"I am not the one hurt," the Bulgarian finally decided to say. To illustrate what he meant, he pulled up the sleeve of his robe... and showed them two intertwining bands of violet and red, seemingly tattooed around his wrist.
The breath caught in Oliver's chest as understanding flooded him. "Yer married?" he blurted out.
There was a shocked, expectant silence as Krum nodded, rolling his sleeve back down over his hands. He explained in much better English than Oliver was sure he had just a couple of years ago, "After the Cup, Mo-ara wrote to me and during the Tournament we spent some time together. Ve fell in love during that time, but I vas a little stupid and got scared avay by my parents not approving. So I pursued Herm-own-ninny because she did not like me for my fame, but I kept alvays thinking of Mo-ara. So I 'manned up' as you English say, and asked her out. Ve got engaged a year ago and married over Easter." By the end of his little speech, the hollows of his cheeks were turning a dull pink.
"Congratulations," Cedric said automatically, though he appeared completely bewildered.
At first Oliver wondered what Krums parents disliked about Lowe. While she could be a little cold and was definitely Slytherin material, she did care somewhere deep down and she had proven herself to be very clever and even brave. Then it struck him up the head like a rogue bludger: her being part vampire, not Pureblood, and/or an age gap of something like twenty four years. If he didn't know Lowe as well as he did, he would rather agree with the Krums.
Several people hollowly echoed Cedric, probably just as bewildered at the match as he was.
Tonks, however, made sure that the talk of romance was not anywhere near over. "You see!" she exclaimed in a strained voice as she glared at Lupin, "Not only does she still want Bill even though he's gotten bit up by a bloody werewolf," she gestured to Fleur, who was mopping up Bill's wounds again, "But he loves her," she pointed to Krum and Lowe, "Even though he's twice her age and she's part vampire! They don't care!"
"It's different. She's only part vampire and Bill will not be a full-" Lupin countered, suddenly tense.
"I don't care either, I don't care! I've told you a million times..." Tonks argued, seizing the front of his shabby robes and shaking them.
'Finally that confrontation comes up,' Oliver thought, rolling his eyes. It had been the drama of the Order for ages now, the tension ratcheting up and up until it finally exploded.
It seemed to be delayed for another time, and so Oliver squeezed Hermione's hand and reached over for Cedric's shoulder. "I'm tired," the Scotsman said plainly, "Let's get to bed for tonight."
"But Harry-" Hermione protested.
"He needs time to come to terms with this on his own, love," Cedric sighed, "We all do. But for right now, we need sleep more than anything. It's probably near two in the morning."
When he looked to Harry, Oliver saw the boy nod listlessly. With a mouthed, "Thanks," he and Cedric steered Hermione out of the room and into the corridor.
As always, they went to the Room of Requirement and held each other until they fell asleep.
The next couple of days were difficult for everyone. All classes were suspended and many students were whisked away by fearful parents. Some went quietly and perhaps even gladly, gone even so soon as breakfast the next day. Then there were those like the Irish boy, Seamus, who had a shouting match in the entrance hall with his mother until she allowed him to stay for Professor Dumbledore's funeral.
Most of the time the trio stuck with Harry, Ron and Ginny. The days were bright and beautiful when storms would have been more fitting for the occasion, and with all exams and classes cancelled they had an abundance of free time. Often the group wandered the grounds, the rest of the time being spent in the Gryffindor common room or at meals.
What with Hogsmeade filling up rapidly with witches and wizards who wanted to pay their respects to Professor Dumbledore, the Ministry delegation that had arrived the day after his death stayed in the castle. It created a few uncomfortable spots, between Percy Weasley choosing his job over his family and Scrimgeour, the Minister, hounding Harry to be the Ministry's poster boy. Oliver himself wanted as little to do with the Ministry and its members as possible. He had a feeling that they would be a little too interested in his, Cedric's and Hermione's bond for comfort.
It was merely luck and good timing that kept the two groups separate the whole three days until the funeral. That, and Madam Pomfrey who would not allow the politicians inside the Hospital Wing. Twice a day, they visited Neville (who had been knocked out in the battle), Bill and Lowe- or rather, the Krums. Sometimes Clodagh and Titanica were there or hanging out with Oliver and company, and sometimes they were by themselves as before they were befriended.
Then the funeral came. It was a beautiful event as far as sad ones go, taking place on the grounds by the lake in the middle of the day. There was a huge crowd present, including everyone from Umbridge (who hurried away from the centaur teacher Firenze as soon as she saw him), to a giant that was apparently Hagrid's half brother Grawp, to the driver of the Knight Bus. The entire Lowe family sat in the row behind Oliver, Mr. Lowe and his children in thick cloaks that shielded them from the worst of the sunlight. It seemed almost like every person Oliver had ever seen in the wizarding world, aside of the obvious Death Eaters and those imprisoned, was attending.
The speech could hardly be heard where Oliver sat between Cedric and a group of Ravenclaws, but what he did hear was too formal to be truly "Dumbledore". While the headmaster had been a noble person, he was more than a touch eccentric and the tufty haired wizard sounded much like he was reading from a general script. It wasn't very unique.
On the other side of Cedric and Hermione, he could see Harry fighting off a grin a couple of times. It made Oliver not feel so bad for doing the same thing. The memories of squashy purple sleeping bags and a flowered bonnet from a Christmas cracker were almost too much to keep from chuckling about.
Then the merpeople sang and the centaurs fired their bows in salute before they disappeared back into the lake and Forbidden Forest. It was almost as wondrous as the white fire that sprang up around Professor Dumbledore's body to create the top of his tomb.
After that, it was only an hour before the train came to take the students home. Not many students chose to ride it however, as their parents were mostly there and took them home personally. Partially for that reason and at the same time for emotional support, the triad took the train back to London with Harry and the Weasleys.
This time when they met up with the Grangers on the other side of the barrier, Oliver smiled grimly at them. Hopefully Hermione had a plan to get them to safety. If it were possible, they were the biggest targets right after herself, Harry, Ron and the members of the Order.
The open war had begun.
-EOC-
The next part of the alternate ending deals with "seventh year" and afterward! I remember someone mentioning that they wanted to see weddings and babies, so that will be for you.
Hopefully this is forming up to expectations, it's been very difficult to write. This story was supposed to be even sadder in the end than it turned out, so putting a happy ending on it is very difficult for me. Completely happy endings in general are hard to write, actually. Please have patience with me.
Please review and tell me how it worked out!
-Thrae