UchiSays: So, for some reason writing this chapter took a lot out of me. I finished it at around 2amand breathed a sigh of relief to see it finished. It drained me, and not that emotional draining where I'm fighting not to cry while writing it because nothing overly emotional happens here, but somehow it was physically draining and not because I was up so late writing it, because I stayed awake for another two hours after it was complete. I'm glad to see it done and I'm also very glad to finally be out of the fourth book. Also, I'm going to add another author's note to the end of this chapter because there's something I want to comment on that you won't understand until you read.
Enjoy.
24. A Line-Storm Song
The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift,
The road is forlorn all day,
Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift,
and hoof-prints vanish away.
The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee,
Expend their bloom in vain.
Come over the hills and far with me,
And be my love in rain.
Harry sat curled against Draco's side, his face pressed against the older boy's chest listening to the low lub-dub of his heart beat. Draco warms wrapped securely around him, making Harry feel warm, content, and safe. Outside, rain fell heavily upon the stones of the building and the glass of the windowpane. Lightning cracked across the sky and less than a second later thunder roared causing both Harry and Draco to jump in surprise. Draco pulled Harry closer and his face in the younger boy's messy dark hair. Harry's hand clutched at Draco's shirt, pressing himself closer to him; expressing without words his presence, his protection, and his love.
Lightning flashed and thunder roared.
Draco flinched.
Harry frowned.
Inside Harry's mind, a river cut and angry path. It raced through his thoughts, the waters rising and falling, stirring; creating a tumultuous of mass almost too dangerous to even thing of entering. Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm the raging waters. The river stilled. Harry smiled and plunged in. The waters of the river were words and at the bottom of the river bed were smooth stones of memory. Harry scooped up a stone then sat wading in the water.
Lightning flashed and thunder roared.
Draco buried his face in Harry's hair.
Harry opened his mouth and began to weave a familiar tale about a prince and a street urchin who were best friends and went on grand adventures together. Draco relaxed, listening to Harry share his words.
Lightning flashed and thundered roared.
Draco laughed at the mishap the Prince and the Street Urchin had gotten into.
Harry smiled.
By time the Prince and Street Urchin had reached their happily ever after, the rain had slowed to a soft pitter-patter against the windowpanes.
Draco smiled down at Harry. His silver-grey eyes seemed to glow in the dull lighting of the room. A smile curled the corners of his lips. A hand raised and caressed Harry's cheek. Harry's face grew red under the touch. Draco leaned in slowly and pressed a gentle kiss against Harry's lips.
"Thank you," he said softly.
Harry blushed and cast his eyes away, not needing to say anything because Draco knew him so well.
"Let's get some sleep," Draco said.
They separated long enough to lie down on the Charmed soft floor and slide under their Transfigured blankets. Once they were in a horizontal position, Draco pulled Harry against his chest and kissed the top of his head. Harry's head fitted almost perfectly under Draco's chin and their legs stretched out and entangled together. Harry absently wondered when had Draco gotten so big and why hadn't he noticed before now and why did that feel so comforting.
They mumbled their good nights and then they slept.
Harry woke to sunlight streaming in through the window.
He was warm, his back pressed tightly against Draco's front, and completely at peace. It was rare for him to wake and not be immediately assaulted by troubles and worries. The only time when he was truly at rest was when he was asleep. Returning to the waking world usually brought with it all the unsolved problems of the day before and sometimes a new way of looking at solving those problems. But he was untroubled when he woke in Draco's arms.
He smiled and pressed closer to Draco.
His eyes widened in surprise when he felt something pressing back against him.
Harry remembered the first time he'd woken in Draco's arms and found the other boy was erect. Harry had been upset then, because he'd felt that Draco was growing up and leaving him behind. But Harry wasn't a child anymore and Draco wasn't the only one with a morning wood.
Still, Harry did not know what to do.
He and Draco were dating now, so did that mean Harry was suppose to do something to help Draco get off? But they hadn't been dating very long, so was it too soon for something like that? Was Harry ready for something like that? Was Draco? That was almost funny. Of course Draco was ready for something like that. He'd had a long string of lovers before he'd gotten with Harry. He was accustomed to sexual satisfaction. But Harry had only ever been with Blaise, and the two of them had only ever made it as far as heavy snogging and light petting. In theory, Harry knew how to sexual satisfy a man—he'd read about it after all—but theory and practice was two completely different things. What if Harry wasn't able to satisfy Draco? Would Draco be disappointed? Would Draco think Harry was just a kid and decide it was a mistake getting together with him?
"Stop thinking so much," a voice whispered against the top of Harry's head.
Harry jumped in surprise. When had Draco woken up?
"Good morning," Draco whispered, his mouth moving down and kissing the side of Harry's neck.
"Morning," Harry said back softly. The kiss against his neck made him blush and brought back all his thoughts from before. Was this kiss going to segue into something more? Would Harry know what to do if it did?
"You're thinking too much, again," Draco said. He raised himself so that he was reclining on his elbow and peered down at Harry. "As much as I'd hate to see an erection wasted, I would never pressure you into something you're not ready for."
Harry's face lit up bright as a Christmas tree. Draco knew him too well.
Draco grinned at him and leaned in to steal a quick kiss.
Suddenly the racing river of Harry's thoughts calmed like a still pond. When Draco tried to pull back Harry followed him, keeping their lips connected in a shy kiss. Draco placed a hand against Harry's chest, holding him in place as he pulled back. Harry was suddenly nervous. Had he been too forward?
Draco sat up and guided Harry into a sitting position as well. He pulled Harry towards him until the younger boy fell against his chest. Harry looked up at Draco shyly and was granted a small smile in turn. Harry's tongue snaked out to moisten his inexplicably dry lips.
Then Draco's lips were on his and it was unlike any kiss they shared before.
Draco's lips were warm and soft and dominating. They moved expertly over Harry's, causing Harry to kiss back eagerly. Draco's tongue coaxed Harry's lips apart and slipped inside. Harry trembled as the sensitive roof of his mouth was caressed teasingly. Draco's tongue mapped out every recess of Harry's mouth before meeting Harry's tongue and enticing it into a flirty dance.
Harry had kissed before, obviously. He and Blaise had invested a great deal of time into the act. But Harry had never been kissed like this. He didn't know Draco was doing something different or if his perception was just different. Whatever the reason, this kiss was unlike anything Harry had experienced before.
It felt more intense and more gentle at the same time. It filled Harry with an all-encompassing heat while it cooled all of Harry's doubt and fears. Every little movement of lips and tongue made Harry melt and crave more.
At some point, Harry had ended up in Draco's lap with his legs straddling the older boy's narrow waist and his fingers gripping silvery hair for all dear life, feeling as if he was flying and free-falling. One of Draco's had rested on the small of Harry's back, the other cupped the back of Harry's neck playing with the soft tuft of hair at his nape.
Harry gave an experimental roll of his hips, causing both him and Draco to moan at the feel of their clothes covered erection rubbing together. Both of Draco's hands fell to Harry's waist as the blond bucked his hips trying to get a repeat of the feeling. Harry let out a whimpering sounding moan and buried his face in the side of Draco's neck. He was hot and embarrassed, but he felt good and he wanted more.
Harry rolled his hips again at the same time Draco bucked his. Harry almost cried from the pleasure. His cock was achingly hard and twitching inside his pants and loving every single second of rubbing against Draco's matching hardness. Harry clutched at Draco's broad shoulders and used the leverage to roll his hips harder and faster.
Harry moaned. This felt so good. So good. So achingly good.
Draco's hands slipped under Harry's shirt and caressed the heated skin of Harry's back, causing Harry to whimper feeling as if he was burning even more. When Harry rolled his hips forward, he could feel Draco's erection pressing against his bum and the images that conjured in his mind were a arousing as their physical movements.
They continued to move together, rocking and sliding and grinding. And dear Merlin if this didn't feel good, unlike anything Harry had ever felt before. Harry discovered he could be very loud when acting on carnal instincts and Draco seemed to enjoy all the sounds Harry emitted.
Finally Harry couldn't take anymore. He felt the familiar aching heat pooling in his belly. His fingers clutched tighter on Draco's shoulders, his back arched, his head flew back, and with one last cry he was coming so hard it felt like the room was spinning. Draco held Harry as his body trembled in the aftermath of his release, placing small quick kisses everywhere he could reach.
"You're beautiful," Draco whispered against Harry's cheek. "My boy," he breathed in Harry's ear. Harry whimpered. Draco brought their mouths together in another kiss that made Harry's room spin again.
"Have you…" Harry didn't finish the question, his flushed face becoming even redder. But Draco knew what he'd wanted to say.
"When you did," Draco said; his lips left Harry's and traced a heated trail down the side of his neck. "We should stop," the blond mumbled breathlessly, seemingly entranced by a particular spot on the side of Harry's neck in the amount of attention he was paying to it was anything to go by.
"We should," Harry agreed, he whimpered when Draco bit softly on that spot and sucked it. His fingers tugged futilely at his playmate-cum-boyfriend's hair.
"We need to go," Draco said, licking that spot and causing Harry to moan loudly.
Harry only whimpered in reply.
Draco placed one last kiss on Harry's neck before pulling away with a sigh. "We really do need to go. Your friends are probably looking for you by now."
Harry frowned. He didn't want to leave yet, but he knew Draco was right.
By some miracle unknown to them, no one but Blaise had witnessed Harry and Draco's first kiss after the second task. This suited them fine, because they agreed that their relationship didn't need to go public just yet. They weren't ashamed of their relationship, but Harry had some suspicions that he wanted to put at ease before anyone knew about them dating. Of course, Harry knew something that Draco didn't know but one could never be too safe.
Harry sighed and got out of Draco's lap and stood. Draco stood as well and they silently got to work casting Cleaning Charms on themselves, Transfiguring their blankets back into their school robes and removing the Cushioning Charm on the floor.
They reluctantly headed towards the door. Before they left, Draco pulled Harry into his arms and stole one more, chaste, kiss.
"Good luck out there," Draco said his voice only slightly louder than a whisper.
Harry gave a gracious smile that looked more than a little sad. He'd almost forgotten that this was the day of the Third Task.
They parted ways.
The birds have less to say for themselves
In the wood-world's torn despair
Than now these numberless years the elves,
Although they are less true there:
All song of the woods is crushed like some
Wild, easily shattered, rose.
Come, be my love in the wet woods; come,
Where the boughs rain when it blows.
Harry stood on the grounds with the other Triwizard Champions. He looked up at the stands were the spectators stood and met eyes with Draco. Draco gave him a small, reassuring smile before raising a hand with his thumb, index, and pinky fingers extended. Harry's heart gave a little flip in his chest as he returned the gesture before stepping into darkness.
Harry was used to navigating hedge mazes, so the Third Task shouldn't have been too difficult for him. But all his practice in the Malfoy Garden Maze hadn't quite prepared him for this. He knew basically what to do. He used a variation of Lumos to create a floating ball of light that followed him around. A Four-Point Spell told him which way was north and his internal compass kept him from having to repeat the spell over and over. After taking a few wrong turns and running into a couple of dead ends a rough map of the maze began to form in his head. He would be able to predict a possible path, but the thing that made mazes so tricky was that they were designed to not be predictable. Still, knowing that his path led to a dead end made him able to visualize how the path other the other side of that dead end would run. He was actually less worried about getting lost in the maze and more worried about the lack of obstacles in his path.
As if summoned by his thoughts, Harry heard movement coming from right behind him. He drew his wand and quickly turned on his heel, ready to fire a curse at whatever was coming at him. A harassed looking Cedric Diggory stumbled into his path and said something about Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts. Harry took the warning to heart and continued on his path.
He rounded a corner…and saw a dementor gliding towards him. Harry raised his wand to cast a Patronus, only to pause. There was something off about this dementor; it was unlike the ones he'd faced the previous year. The coldness he felt wasn't bone deep and he didn't feel completely discouraged and depressed. Harry frowned. At least he knew what his deepest fear was.
"Riddikulus!" He called. The boggart exploded into a wisp of smoke.
Harry continued on.
His mental compass told him that he'd gone too far east. He turned back and took another turn only to find himself facing a gold mist. He frowned, not recognizing what he was looking at. He didn't want to rush headlong into something unknown, so he pulled up his mental map and tried to devise and alternate path.
He heard a scream up ahead. Fleur? Harry gave up the idea of an alternative route and rushed into the golden mist. Immediately he felt as if the sky and earth had been switched and he was hanging upside down. He froze in his tracks, trying to calm his suddenly racing heart. He knew that there was no magic that could alter the natural order of the universe in his way for real so this must be an illusion. Still, illusions were dangerous. Well, only as dangerous as the amount of fate you invested into them. If you truly believe an illusion to be real and that it could hurt you, you gave it the power to cause that harm.
Harry closed his eyes and cleared his thoughts. He took another step forward…and the world righted itself. He rushed on, the gold mist floating innocently on the path behind him. He did not see Fleur anywhere and could only hope she was ok.
After nearly ten minutes of meeting nothing he rounded a corner and was greeted by an enormous Blast-Ender Skrewt. It was ten feet long and looked like a giant scorpion. Harry did a quick mental review of what they'd learned about the creatures in class. His magic would most likely bounce off its armor, but it was like a dragon in the fact that its underbelly was soft and unprotected. Harry aimed carefully and managed to hit the Skrewt with a Stupefy on his first try. He ran away quickly, knowing the spell wouldn't last very long.
Once he was a safe distance from Hagrid's little pet, Harry consulted his internal compass and mental map before choosing a path he thought would lead him where he needed to be. A few minutes later, he heard voices coming from the path running parallel to his own and he stopped dead in his tracks.
He unfroze the moment he heard Krum casting the Cruciatus on Cedric. He cast a Reducto at the wall of the maze and forced himself through the small opening he'd managed to create. Krum looked up the moment Harry made in through the hedge and tried to run.
"Stupefy," Harry yelled. The Bulgarian champion fell. After checking that Cedric was alright and casting red sparks over Krum, Harry rushed on.
The increasing darkness made Harry sure he would soon reach the heart of the maze. He was ready for this to be over.
The creature Harry faced next he'd only ever seen in his Monster Book of Monsters and Harry felt awed and honored to be in the presence of the majestic sphinx. Sphinxes were creatures associated with wisdom and intelligence and Harry had nothing but the upmost respect for them. He listened carefully to her riddle, answers presenting and dismissing themselves in his mind with each line she spoke. He had only to think for a second after hearing the riddle before he was sure of his answer.
The sphinx let him pass and Harry was sure the end was almost in sight and for a surprisingly thrilling second he was almost sure he was going to win.
Except, Cedric was already on the path ahead of him and there was no way Harry would be able to overtake him in speed. He was almost disappointed. Until he saw the spider, then he was very happy that he was back here and not up there with Cedric.
Cedric didn't see the spider. Harry called out a warning then flung a spell at the overgrown arachnid. Harry immediately regretted flinging the hex, because all it had done was draw attention to himself. The spider was on him before he could even think of a way to get away from it. He futilely continued to yell spells and curses as he was lifted into the air. One of his spells managed to fall true, and Harry ended up falling twelve feet to the ground.
His first martial arts lessons instantly came to his mind. His hands smacked the ground, taking the brunt of the fall and he immediately rolled himself out of harm's way, raising his wand and casting a spell at the underbelly of the giant bug. Cedric cast at the same time and the force of their combined spell-work put the spider out of commission.
Harry collapsed back on the ground, waiting for his heart to catch up to him. This whole Tournament seemed designed to rob Harry of years of his life, either through outright trying to kill him by pitting him against dangerous beasts or subtly trying to scare him to death or give him a heart attack.
He and Cedric had a brief argument about who should take the Cup, before they decided to go it together. As Harry reached a hand toward the Cup he felt a familiar tingle at the back of his mind. The Cup contained latent magic. Harry knew the Cup was a magically artifact, but its magic should not ring the warning bells flaring in his mind right now. Lucius had trained them to be able to identify the magic of a hidden Portkey. It was a tricky bit a magic and not everyone could do it—Draco could only identify a Portkey about 67% of the time—but Harry had mastered the ability. This Cup was definitely a Portkey, and since no one had told them this before the task Harry could only assume it wasn't supposed to be one.
He was too late to do anything about it now. Cedric was already reaching for the cup and Harry could only hurry to grab it along with him. He felt the familiar tug behind his navel and they were gone.
The moment they hit the ground, Harry acted. "Stupefy!" He yelled. Cedric looked at him with wide-eyed surprise, before he fell to the ground. Harry did not allow himself to regret the action; instead he quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm over Cedric and floated the older boy and the Cup to behind a large gravestone. That's when he realized he was in a graveyard.
He felt as if he was being watched and noticed someone coming towards him. He raised his wand defensively, but he was too late in acting. He didn't hear the spell that hit him, but it knocked him off his feet and caused him to bump his head. His vision swirled. He could just barely make out the words on the headstone opposite the one he'd hidden Cedric and the cup behind.
Tom Riddle.
Harry cursed.
His suspicions were confirmed.
Unconsciousness beckoned him.
He gave in.
There is the gale to urge behind
And bruit our singing down,
And the shallow waters aflutter with wind
From which to gather your gown.
And come not through dry-shod?
For wilding brooch shall wet your breast
The rain-fresh goldenrod.
An Enerverate woke him. Harry did a mental check of his condition before he opened his eyes. He head hurt from hitting it when he'd fell. His leg was hurting from the spider attack. He seemed to be bound against a hard surface. He was more than a little exhausted from the physical exertion of the day. His magic levels were only slightly lower than normal and a constant stream of it was flowing away from him to maintain (he sighed in relief) the Disillusionment Charm he'd cast on Cedric. Overall, he was in good condition.
Self check over, Harry opened his eyes to survey his surroundings. He was tied to a headstone. In front of him, Peter Pettigrew stood before a large cauldron holding what looked to be some type of deformed child—the river in Harry's mind raised and threw the word homunculus onto the shore.
Pettigrew put the homunculus into the cauldron and Harry briefly prayed the thing would drown. Then Pettigrew started the regeneration ritual.
Harry had researched Horcruxes and their resurrection rituals the summer after second year. He'd wanted to know if there were any preventative methods he could take to keep a resurrection from occurring. The first thing he'd learned was that there was no such this as a resurrection ritual. There was no such magic that enabled someone to revive the dead. A corpse could be reanimated. A spirit could be summoned. But a life could not truly be returned once it was gone. A person brought back to life through the use of a Horcrux is not truly brought back to life because they were never truly dead. What people often mistakenly referred to as a resurrection was actually just a regeneration or a recreation of a body.
On the subject of preventative methods Harry had found nothing that would work definitely. With this specific ritual, the only action he could take in order to stop it would to willingly give his blood instead of letting it be forcibly taken. But due to the nature of magic, even if he took the knife cut himself and poured his blood into the cauldron himself, it would still not be considered willingly given unless he acted with genuine desire to see Voldemort returned. You could fool people, but you can't fool magic. The act of willingly handing over his blood in an attempt to undermine the ritual showed he was unwilling. There was nothing Harry could do.
In a matter of minutes, Voldemort had returned and Harry was surrounded by Death Eaters.
Harry could pretend he wasn't surprised to see Lucius Malfoy standing among the Death Eaters, but really nothing could quite prepare him for the sight of the man who had been the closest thing he had to a father since he was six years old standing with a group of people who hated him on rule. Harry had known that eventually Lucius would be put in the position where he had to choose between Harry and his service to the Dark Lord. Harry wasn't sure Lucius would be ready to make the decision the first time it was presented, so Harry had taken some actions to buy Lucius some time.
When he was studying Horcruxes and preventative methods, Harry had also researched the Fidelis Charm. He'd been intrigued by the idea of being able to hide a secret within a single person. He'd wondered if the only secret one could hide under the charm was a location or could other information be concealed in this fashion. He'd done some experimenting—one of these experiments included Charming Draco's hair pink and that had given him a little thrill of pleasure—until he found the limitations of the Fidelis. Then he had done more experiments to push these limitations—one of these experiments included Charming Ron's hair green and that had given him another thrill of pleasure—until he'd created an altered form of the Fidelis that suited his needs. All he'd needed to do after that was find a secret keeper.
He'd briefly considered Charlie Weasley for this job, until he realized that would never work. For his secret keeper, Harry would need someone who lived far away from Voldemort created his reign of terror and who would not feel the need to return to Brittan when the war came for any reason. He needed someone who could be pressed to abandon obligatory loyalty to their family in order to look out for themselves. He needed a Slytherin.
Less than a week before the Second Task, Harry and Charlie had met with and concealed a secret within Blaise's uncle Damian. This secret was big and meat the difference between life and death. The web of magic needed to conceal this secret was extensive and intricate because it touched so many people and contained so much information. After discussing who they'd let in on the secret and covertly passing them the information, Damian Zabini boarded a plane to his home in America. With him, he took the knowledge that Lucius Malfoy had taken in a little boy name Harry Potter, that Harry Potter called Malfoy Manor home, and that the Malfoys and Harry Potter had any relationship the exceeded a passive acknowledgement of each others' existence.
Harry could sit in Malfoy Manor sipping tea in his pajamas right in front of Voldemort and the Dark Lord would not be able to perceive or process the information as anything important. Harry and Draco could have a repeat of that morning's activities right on the head table in the Great Hall and no would give them a second glance. Harry could walk up to Lucius Malfoy in the middle of Diagon Alley, call him father and give him a big kiss, and the world would go on around them as if nothing happened.
Harry had done this to keep his family safe: Draco, Narcissa, and Lucius could not be hurt because of their association to him.
Harry tried to look dispassionate as he watched the proceedings between Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and he was sure he was doing passably well at it. Except, if anyone took a glimpse inside his mind they would find river almost overflowing its banks as it rose and fell and rocked and rolled like a sea in a storm. Harry was thinking fast. He needed a way out of this situation and his brain kept providing then disregarding solutions. He calculated every possible outcome for every possible action.
The main thing that needed done was retrieving his wand. He knew enough wandless magic to get him out of a confrontation with four or five fully trained wizards, but he was not going to try his luck against a dark lord and a legion of his lackeys. Wand in hand, he could take on close to ten wizards at once but only if he was crafty and if he used spells the "light side" would frown at, and that did not take into consideration facing off against a dark lord's power. He wished he could count of Lucius' aid, because between the two of them the odds were a lot closer to even. He'd have better odds if he woke Cedric and allowed the older boy to help him, but Cedric would be a bit disorientated upon waking and who knows how that would turn out. The big problem was that Voldemort was a wild card. It was near impossible to predict the actions and reactions of a psychopath.
As if to prove him correct, Voldemort made the unforeseen decision to release Harry's bonds and return his wand at that moment.
Those who witnessed the duel that followed would wonder where Harry Potter had learned such a large repertoire of spells, more than a few of which were undoubtedly dark. Voldemort seemed thrilled. Harry cast quick and moved even quicker. He was a challenge that none had expected, not even Voldemort. Harry was, after all, just a fourteen year old boy, who would have thought he was more than capable of holding his own against a fully grown wizard.
Still, the difference in Harry and Voldemort's skills were obvious. Harry had not lived nearly long enough to reach the levels of the Dark Lord. He knew he was going to lose if this duel lasted much longer, so when Priori Incantatem happened, Harry was more than a little relieved.
Harry was more than a little shaken up when the dead began to come out of Voldemort's wand. It took all he had not to burst into tears when his parents came.
"Harry," his father said after instructing him what to do, "You've become a fine young man. The Malfoys were good to you. Now go."
The connection broke and Harry did not waste a second. He jumped behind the headstone where he'd hidden the Cup. He was surprised to find that Cedric was no longer Stunned or Disillusioned. The older boy stared at Harry with wide-eyed shock, but Harry paid him no mind. He placed one hand on Cedric and the other on the Cup, and then they were gone.
Later, after they came to a crashing stop on Hogwarts grounds and Harry and Cedric both exclaimed the news of the Dark Lord's return and Harry had allowed himself to be led away by Moody only to prove his final suspicion and that whole scene played out and after Harry had begged off his friends and slipped out of the Hospital Wing in the middle of the night and found Draco waiting for him and after he and Draco curled up together in an empty classroom and the blond drifted off to sleep but Harry's thoughts would settle enough to allow him to same action, only after all of this Harry would cry.
He did not cry over Voldemort's return. He did not cry because he knew he would have to be a leader in the war to come. He did not cry because he realized just how close he'd come to losing his life that day.
Harry cried because of his father's last words to him. Those words, he hadn't even known he was waiting to hear them.
Those words had been approval.
Oh, never this whelming east wind swells
But it seems like the sea's return
To ancient lands where it left the shells
Before the age of the fern;
And it seems like the time when after doubt
Our love came back amain.
Oh, come forth into the storm and rout
And be my love in the rain.
~Robert Frost
UchiSays: So, I have no idea why I decided to keep Cedric Diggory alive. It wasn't something I'd decided to do from the beginning and it actually surprised me when it happened. But I think I'm correct in saying that such an action could be expected from this Harry, he is far too intelligent after all. So, I have nothing to say to explain while Cedric lives other than "Harry made me do it," but maybe he'll become important later. I don't know, we'll just have to see what Harry makes me do next.