From the Diary of CJ Diggory:

Marcy 18th, 2014...

And the countdown continues.

I woke up this morning in a cold sweat, from a dream where I was at Wheezes. I could feel my hand on explosives, could see myself setting the fuse. It was warm in there; stuffy and humid, and the air was thick. I had a cut on my mouth and could taste blood; the wand in my hand was as real as the curtains around my bed were on waking. And I saw myself giving the command to set off the fuse.

And the worse thing is, all I kept repeating over and over to myself, was that I was doing what my father wanted, doing it because he commanded it, doing it because I loved him. I knew this, just as certainly as I knew the sun would rise in the east the next day.

What the hell?

I need to start working on some potions that will knock me out more completely at night. There's no way I'm going to be able to keep up this front if I can't get any sleep. Unlike Teddy, I don't have the ability to make myself into a handsome blighter even when my physical body is breaking down.

The dream won't leave me, though. It seemed strangely real, as real as that dream I'd had about being in the shop as a young man, alive and happy. Well, I'd thought that was a seer dream too, and it had amounted to shite, so clearly divination is bullshit. And yet...and yet I feel strangely terrified that the one last night was bloody inevitable.

After a few moments, I reached a resolution: I should end it all now.

And again, as has happened every time I'd had that thought before, came Cedric's voice to me. Don't.

The last time was over Christmas break. Alf and I had been helping to churn out fireworks with George, laughing and joking the whole time. Uncle Bill had allowed Ricky to come over as well, and though we made sure he wasn't given anything above his abilities, he turned out to be a pretty solid worker. AND he kept us cracking up; he's really got a wicked sense of humor.

Anyway, Ricky seemed to stick really close by me for much of the time, and every now and then when I just felt a little, I dunno, tired, maybe...he picked me up and found something particular to tease me on.

But there came a time when he wasn't there...nobody was. Alf and Ricky went to pick up lunch and George got called to the front with a customer issue, and I was alone in the stock room.

It's packed, almost every square inch, with fireworks. George keeps adjusting the wizardspace to hold more, but really if a building could groan, this one would. And I had this feeling, this itch, to set the fuse, to just take everything out now. So easy, I kept thinking. So easy.

And then there was another voice inside my head, No, no...he might be able to rebuild if you did it now, might still make the contract...you must wait.

Fear filled me, and I pointed the wand at my own chest...I would destroy myself before this building!

And then Cedric's voice. Don't.

I didn't move my wand for a few moments, and Cedric's voice filled me. Don't, CJ. You need to wait, as long as you can. You need to wait!

For what, I'd thought tersely? A ruddy miracle?

And yet I'd put the wand down, and by the time the family got back to me I was looking normal, not at all like somebody who'd come within seconds of suicide.

This, I suppose is what an unbreakable does, as it gets near its deadline. The pressure, the nightmares, the impending sense of inevitability. Sometimes I feel like I have two demons fighting for my soul; I used to think one was on the side of the light, and the other the forces of dark, but I'm not even sure I can tell the two apart anymore.

And I don't know how much more of this I can take. My birthday is June first. And I am afraid if I really wait until the last possible moment, that I will give in to the dark side. So Easter, then...if there is no miracle by Easter, I will end it all. I'll be home then, and it's probably better if I end it there. Because I just don't trust myself to get much closer than that.

At least I will be home.

WWWWWWW

Minister Filipowski was worried.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had been an ally and a friend. And he seemed supremely unworried about the potential devastation that he'd gathered information on. Wait, was all Kingsely kept saying to him. He insisted that he had everything covered, that there was a plan in place and that the rebellion would never come to fruition. But neither would he share this information with him.

That was wrong. This was his federation, he was in charge, not Shacklebolt. Really, what gave the bloody Brits the idea that they were the only ones who knew how to run a ministry? It was undoubtedly true that Shacklebolt knew more about fighting the forces of darkness than any other living minister, and Filipowski more than welcomed the help. But there was a difference between being helped, and being manipulated, and he was increasingly feeling like what was going on was the latter.

He needed that celebration to go off as planned. The people were looking forward to it; it was to be a crowning achievement, a shining example of what the united wizards of the region could accomplish. If it failed, it would make him look inept and futile; different factions would feel slighted, chaos would ensue. Yet all along he'd gone ahead with Kingsley's suggestions, the choice of artisan for the fireworks, the moving of the date, the changing of the very fabric of the celebration itself. All suggested by the British minister.

Well, it was his Ministry, not Shacklebolt's, that was on the line. And he wasn't going to continue to let things be taken out of his hands. He came over to the floo, and set up a firechat, making sure his network was secured.

"Mr. George Weasley, please..."

After a few seconds, a face appeared in his fireplace. "Yes, Minister Filipowski?"

"I am sorry to disturb your breakfast." The Minister said by way of acknowledging that it wasn't more than 6am in England, and that he'd interrupted Weasley at home. But Filipowski knew that the floo in George's office was being monitored by Shacklebolt. "I wished to enquire as to your status with our fireworks delivery?"

"Our status is ahead of schedule, actually. There will be no problem in meeting the June 3nd deadline; we're scheduled to ship on the first." George held a mug forward. "Coffee?"

Skeptically Filipowski accepted the mug, and was pleasantly surprised to discover the one Englishman who seemed to understand the proper method of brewing something other than tea. "Thank you, my friend. You might not be so cordial when I ask you, if you would mind moving that date up."

"That depends." George's voice was wary. "How "up" are we talking about?"

Filipowski considered. "There are many rumors of disruption to our goals afoot here, Mr. Weasley. I have a safe location designated to store your products, and I would feel safer if I had them under my control. Understand it is not you I do not trust; but too many are aware of our dates and deadlines. Moving things, say within the month, would thwart them."

Filipowski waited. He fully expected George Weasley was a party to whatever nonsense Shacklebolt was orchestrating...contrary to his stated opinion, he trusted no one. He wanted to see what excuses Weasley would come up with, on why that blasted June 1 date was so important.

George was thinking, sipping his coffee carefully. "You know, I could do it right after Easter."

Filipowski nearly fell off of his seat, he was so pleasantly surprised. Perhaps, just perhaps, Mr. Weasley wasn't a part of this scheme at all? "You can?" He repeated, to make sure he'd understood.

"I could ship 75 of it now, if you wanted; but I'd suggest waiting a bit. I can guarantee 95 of stock by April 19th. Might be more; my boys will be home with me for the week prior to that, and they're pretty handy." George gave him a grin. "You seem shocked."

"I was not sure you could do this." He admitted. A worry crossed his mind. "If I might ask, Mr. Weasley...is it possible to keep this changed date as quiet as possible? Forgive me, but I have foes everywhere."

"I remember what that was like." George said quietly, absentmindedly stroking the scarred side of his head. "Normally I'd tell my brother Ron, but he's rather wrapped up in a project of his own. So I'll not tell anyone; just keep churning out the work until I tell the boys we're prepping to ship." George gave him an inquiring look. "Does Shacklebolt know?"

"He does not. And I would rather you not tell him." Filipowski watched George closely.

And received a thin smile in reply. "I think that's a wise decision. He's playing games, our Minister is, and I won't be a party to that."

Filipowski nodded once. "Then I do not hesitate to mention that you might want to be careful of what you say by the floo in your offices."

George's eyes widened and there was a momentary flicker of anger that he calmed down with effort. "I thank you for the advice. So, we're settled then?"

Filipowski felt both vindicated and relieved. "Indeed! April 19th, my friend; and then on schedule in June, won't we set the world on fire!"

WWWWWWW

"What do you mean, he moved the date up?" Lucius Malfoy scowled fiercely, pacing back and forth in his extensive suite of rooms.

Amos, flustered and flabbergasted, could only shake his head. "I know what I heard. He moved the date with Weasley...AND he instructed Weasley to tell nobody, not even Shacklebolt!" Amos had been in a secret cove nearby, listening on an Extended Ear. If he had any sense of irony left, he might have chuckled over the fact that the product he'd chosen had been the brainchild of a man he'd sworn to destroy.

Lucius continued pacing, his knuckles white in the grasp of his cane. Then he stopped short, and gave a thin smile. "Wait...you mean Shacklebolt doesn't know?"

"No, and Weasley will keep his word; what honor he has wouldn't let him break it." Amos snorted.

Malfoy's smile was wider then. "Brilliant, actually...why, it may play right in to our hands."

"Lucius!" Amos got his attention. "CJ thinks he has another month to destroy the shop, and the fireworks in it. We need those fireworks to be part of the deal; for your sake, to cause the mayhem, and for mine; that's the only way George will be completely gutted!"

"Then..." Lucius said. "We will simply have to change the date."

Amos looked at him like he was crazy. "It's an unbreakable vow, Lucius. He had to destroy the store by his sixteenth birthday. How exactly are you going to change the date?"

Malfoy smiled. "Leave it to me."

WWWWWWW

April 2nd, 2014--Letter from Ricky Weasley to Bill Weasley

Hey, Dad...

I purposely didn't write to you yesterday because I was afraid you wouldn't believe me, or worse, would think that the parchment was spelled to turn your hands green or something. Not, of course, that I would ever do something like that...often...or to you...but anyway...

To be serious for a second, I've noticed lately that CJ seems a bit off. It's hard to place, and really I don't think Teddy or Alf have noticed, so maybe it's nothing. Or maybe it's that he keeps his guard up better when he's around them then on the rare chance that I catch him out. But every now and then, it's like his face slips a moment, and he looks, frankly, haunted. It's only for a second or two, and it's only happened twice, but it has happened. And I know you wanted me to give you a head's up if I saw anything at all.

Anyway, we're almost at Easter break. It may just be that OWLS are coming up for him and he's fried. Or it could be the upcoming game against Ravenclaw...I think CJ wants this victory really, really badly. But I thought you should know.

Of course, when possible I try to amuse him. That may be why his hands are green this morning!

Later...Ricky

April 6th.

Alf headed out to the pitch for the last Quidditch match of the year. Next Saturday they'd be heading home for the Holiday, where Dad had already warned them that he planned on putting them to work. Well, that deadline for the fireworks was getting close. It was a shame that he'd have to miss the game today, but not entirely unexpected. And not just because of the commission...George would have had a difficult time choosing a son to root for!

Today was Ravenclaw versus Slytherin, with the house cup on the line. Not the first time Alf and CJ had squared off, but the first time it meant so much. And Alf could appreciate the exceptionally awkward position that would put them in. Hell, his step mother had nearly bitten of the head of a first year who asked her who she was rooting for, apparently the tenth person to do so. ("The Boston Red Sox! She'd snapped, confusing the heck out of the wizard-born kid).

Alf was now Captain of the team, an honor he'd stepped in to after his third year, when Darius had graduated. He looked around at his group, all his age and younger, and was pleased with them. Taylor Conlogue, Teddy's girlfriend, was one of the chasers, and was actually quite good. Their seeker was young, a second year named Harriette Hamblett, who had proudly announced that she was named after Harry Potter and that's why she wanted to be a seeker. Turns out she was pretty good too.

Alf knew, though, that his team was overachieving. Only Taylor had been on the team with him last year. Still, Alf was very good himself and Harriette had come on like gangbusters, and though he Slytherin was very strong, he had every confidence that they could come out on top.

"Nervous?" Ricky fell in to step beside him, having come from nowhere, as he often did.

"Nope. Excited." Alf gave him a narrow look, with a smirk. "So...who are you rooting for?"

"Like any good Gryffindor, I'm rooting for a long tie game that denigrates into fisticuffs and costs you so many house points it puts us in the running." Ricky replied with a wink.

Alf laughed then, and looked across the pitch. "Talk to CJ today?"

"Earlier. He seems pretty strung up." Ricky looked at Alf. "I think he really wants to beat you, Alf?"

"Oh, so you've noticed that?" Alf gave a strong smile in reply. It had been a running joke for years, but for the past few weeks he'd felt an undercurrent of...desperation, maybe?...in CJ's comments. An underlying sarcasm that showed how badly he wanted this. "You would think it was the last time we'd ever be going head to head!" A bell sounded; fifteen minutes to game. Alf looked at his young cousin and gave him a nudge. "Just cheer for a good game, Rick."

And Alf jogged blithely off to his team.

WWWWWWW

Ricky found Teddy in the Gryffindor stands; though most fifth years didn't have time for second years, Teddy and Ricky considered each other family, and the older boy was usually pretty decent to him. Now was no exception as Teddy slid over on the bench to give him room. "Who are you rooting for?" Teddy asked, as it seemed to be the question of the day.

"A good game." Ricky parroted Alf's request. "You?"

"Ravenclaw." Teddy said, though he looked a tad apologetic. "Well, it's my best mate and my girlfriend against my second best mate and five people I don't like." He pointed out. "I hope CJ has a good game, though."

"For CJ to have a good game, Alf would have to have a bad one." Ricky pointed out. "And I thought you liked Miki well enough?" Miki, the seeker, was CJ's girl.

Teddy gave a shrug. "She's not really good enough for CJ, you know. A bit fickle, I've always thought. He acts sometimes like she's the only one who'd ever take him."

Ricky watched as the players came out for handshakes. "I know you weren't foolish enough to point that out to him?"

Teddy gave him a wide grin. "Actually, I did. After he knocked me on my arse, he pointed out that she might well be. I told him to wait a few months and see how the girls changed." Teddy gave a sudden frown. "You know, he said he didn't have time."

Didn't have time. That was the second time in the past half hour someone had made that comment to him. CJ had to beat Alf, and you would think that it would be the last time they would be squaring off. CJ didn't have time to play the field, he had to take the girl who was there now. Like CJ was on a time limit, like his time was running out...

The whistle blew, and Ricky lost his train of thought in the game.

It started out innocently enough; sharp, crisp passing from the Slytherins; sloppier but more inventive play from the young Ravenclaw, and brilliant keeping by Alf. But as the match went on, things got a little crazy. CJ almost had a mad glint in his eye sometimes, as he made more and more difficult shots on goal, and Alf was wearing himself out trying to make saves. At times it was as if they were the only two people on the field.

Then the play got harder, almost dirtier. Bludgers went astray. Alf nearly missed taking a Quaffle to the head (though not thrown by CJ). Ravenclaw had a lead of 200-50, with CJ having scored every goal. The Slytherin keeper was the only first year player, and he was clearly intimidated. And then, there was the first sight of the snitch.

It got crazy then. Miki dove after it, and he heard the Slytherin Captain Mario Flanders screaming at her not to do it, because capturing the snitch while down 150 points would only be a tie, and the result would not be enough points to put Slytherin in the overall lead for the house cup. Meanwhile, Harriette was trying to distract Miki and out-fly her, and was nearly doing it.

At that moment, CJ charged in full at Alf, who'd been momentarily distracted. Ricky saw it coming...Miki was just a little better than Harriette, and would probably get the snitch. CJ was trying desperately to score just one more time, before Miki ended the game, or else they would as good as lose.

CJ threw, and Alf lunged...Miki went in to a steep dive...the entire crowd held their breath.

Slytherin 210, Ravenclaw 200.

And the Slytherin team exploded; pandemonium ensued.

Ricky exhaled, and Teddy have a little shrug. "Well, cheering up Taylor isn't the worst possible situation for me to be in." He pointed out.

Ricky got up and fought through the crowds. He spotted CJ and Miki being carried off on the shoulders of their house mates, and figured that this time it might be Alf who needed cheering up.

WWWWWWW

He saw the shot. It was one he and CJ had practiced over and over in the back yard. Only, CJ had never quite executed it so perfectly before. He saw the arc, drew in his breath and lunged for it, only to have the shot brush just pass his fingers and through the hoop, only seconds before Miki captured the snitch.

We lost. We lost. WE LOST!

Alf was quite stunned momentarily, as he sank to the ground. His team-mates followed suit, each looking stunned and confused; Harriette actually was near tears. That got through to him and Alf went over to her with a smile he hoped was calming. "You played a great game, kid." He rubbed her head. "And you had a great season. Next year you will be unstoppable."

We lost!

Alf looked over and saw a wide eyed, equally stunned but grinning wildly CJ just coming to earth, to get swamped by Miki, who planted a huge kiss right on his face, making him blush. He heard CJ laugh out loud, and something in that sound melted something in Alf. He came forward, and fighting through the Slytherin throng, led by a whooping Professor Malfoy, he offered his hand. "Great shot, Ceej." He smiled with full confidence.

CJ laughed a bit more, studied Alf for a moment, and then realizing Alf really wasn't pissed off, he came over and bear-hugged him. "If you tell me you let that in on purpose, I'll kill you." CJ said indistinctly.

"As if!" Alf scoffed. "You beat me this time." Alf pushed him out to arms-length. "I suppose I can give you one."

CJ's smile was surprisingly radiant. "One is all I need, Alf."

WWWWWWW

A group of students went out to Hogsmeade that evening. Alf was walking with Teddy, trying to calm him down; not half an hour ago Taylor had dumped him because she felt Teddy was patronizing her. "Honestly!" Teddy grumbled, kicking at the dirt. "All I said was that she was a much better looking chaser than CJ. I meant it to be a compliment!"

"Yeah, well, you said yourself last week that she'd been acting crabby for a while." Alf reminded him. "I do believe you were thinking about breaking up yourself not long ago."

"Yeah, but that was me breaking up with her, not the other way around." Teddy muttered. Alf could commiserate, but he hardly felt like explaining the finer points of Bianca to him at this moment. Ahead, Alf spotted CJ leaning against a wall, talking animatedly to Miki while his arm was wrapped around her.

"I still don't like her." Teddy interjected.

"Me either." He would so much rather see CJ with Liv; even if she was only 14. Still, there was no denying that both CJ and Miki were over the moon at the moment, and he managed a sigh. "I've never seen him so happy, Teddy."

"Yeah." Teddy admitted. They watched together as CJ gave Miki a peck on the cheek, and left her outside a café where much of Slytherin had gathered. He came over to Teddy and Alf.

"Thanks again, Alf." CJ said, still glowing in the victory.

"Will you stop that!" Alf punched him lightly. "You do realize every time you thank me I am left to contemplate ways to beat the snot out of you next year?"

A funny look flitted over CJ's face, but was quickly gone. "You won't have a problem." He said, then changed the subject. "Um, Teddy...I heard about...I mean..."

"Great, has EVERYBODY heard?" Teddy grumbled. Then, reluctantly, with a nod at Miki, "You seem to be doing okay?"

"Yeah." CJ looked a little sheepish. "She left her sweater in the common room; I was just going to dart back to get it for her."

"Go." Alf considered teasing him, but decided that seeing CJ happy was more important at the moment. "And don't get caught doing anything I wouldn't do."

CJ raised eyebrows at him. "I saw you all summer, Alf. What, exactly, wouldn't you do?"

Alf threw a half hearted jelly legs at CJ, which he was able to skip over easily, and they both laughed. Even Teddy joined in eventually, and they watched as CJ disappeared down the path.

"C'mon, Teddy. Let's drown our single status in ice-cream." Alf offered.

WWWWWWW

The path that lead out of Hogsmeade towards Hogwarts was quiet in the twilight. In Harry Potter's days, it was unlikely that a student would have been allowed to wander in the early evening. But fifteen years of peace changed things somewhat. Now, students fifth year and above were permitted to stay at the village as late as 9pm; students who had turned seventeen and therefore come of age could stay until eleven. CJ had walked the path, with friends and alone, many times, and had never thought about it twice.

Which was why Malfoy's stupefy caught him so completely by surprise. He felt his arms snap to his side , his jaw clamp shut and his entire body fall like a log, straight and hard.

He felt himself being levitated. His breathing came fast, and he wanted desperately to turn to see if anybody, anybody at all had seen this, but he doubted it. Malfoy was nothing if not careful, and he found himself being spirited into a nearby cave.

"Well, my young friend…so careless, tut, tut…I would punish you properly if I had the time, but alas, there is none." Malfoy's voice was like slime oozing in his ears. "Instead I must do what is needed, and then be gone quickly, before anyone realizes I am here, least of all my useless son."

Worth a hundred of you. CJ thought darkly.

He felt himself being bound tightly, magical ropes that hurt, cutting in to his skin. But it was not Malfoy who tied them. A wizard he didn't know, long on brawn and clearly short on brains to have thrown himself in with Lucius was responsible for this torment.

"Now, boy…I know you must remember what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a cruciatus curse." Malfoy purred. "So as I remove the stupefy, I want you to think carefully about any sort of yelling, or screaming. As my son can tell you, I am not known for my kindness."

Like I'd forgotten. The memory of the white hot agony he'd suffered at the hands of his father and this man came back to him. But of course there was no way for him to indicate that he was in understanding of what was requested. He could only blink.

But Malfoy must have assumed his compliance; the stupefy was removed and CJ took a deep, heaving breath, free of constriction. He did not, however, speak.

"Not entirely without brains, I see." Malfoy smirked. He nodded to his accomplice. "Sit him up, Goyle."

CJ felt himself being place in position. His hands were brought forward. And though it took a second, he realized with horror as he stared in to the blue eyes of Lucius Malfoy, that another unbreakable vow was about to be forced upon him.