Chapter 20: The Flame Lives On

Cedric could think of only one word to explain existence: exhaustion. Last night even Harry's presence hadn't been enough to help him sleep peacefully; he had awoken from a nightmare of shattering glass and burning fire, Harry's arms around him. Try as he did, he could not get back to sleep, and he hadn't wanted to wake Harry.

The tremors were worst in his hands, but they were not limited to his hands. Madam Pomfrey had him drinking handfuls of vials every few hours, some potions he didn't even recognize. One of them was a Purification Draught, Bellatrix had left a lingering dark curse on his wrist that was impeding it from properly healing. His left hand remained stiff and painful to move.

And all of the physical pain was nothing compared to the empty feeling in his chest.

His dad had left earlier that morning. "Stay strong, m'boy," he had said, pulling Cedric into a hug. "We'll see each other again soon. If you or Harry need anything, owl me or contact me at Grimmauld place using Harry's mirror. I'll see you at the end of term. The...the memorial will be a week after that, after the trial. Stay strong, Cedric."

And, as his dad had turned to walk away, Cedric had desperately wanted to ask him to stay. Maybe it was because his dad leaving with his mother, to plan her memorial...made what happened real on some level it hadn't been before. Maybe it was just because he was afraid his dad wouldn't come back.

But, despite all this, Cedric had insisted on accompanying Harry to Dumbledore's office. There were conversations that simply could not be avoided, Cedric could sense there were important matters that had to be discussed. He wasn't going to leave Harry alone for that, despite the pain he was in...or maybe because of it.

Cedric knew, on some base level, that he would be dead without Harry. Thinking of him had carried Cedric through the nightmare, had given him the strength to endure even as the Death Eaters snuck into the Department of Mysteries and Bellatrix got bored while they waited. And when there seemed to be no chance of contacting the Order, Harry had come after and rescued him. And when they somehow survived and made it back to the castle, Harry…

Harry had been there to pick up the pieces as Cedric's heart shattered.

"Please sit down," Dumbledore said quietly. It was more a request than an order.

"Sirius," Harry said flatly, neither him nor Cedric having moved. "Is he okay? Is he safe? When will you be able to get him out? Can we see him?"

"Harry, Sirius is being detained by direct order of the Minister. I have spent a considerable amount of time in the past twenty four hours guaranteeing they will not execute him. Beyond that, at the moment, there is only so much I can do," Dumbledore said, his voice soft. "There were many who wanted to see him back in Azkaban; Fudge is desperate. I managed to get Sirius a trial at the end of the month, the day after term ends. Before then he is allowed no visitors."

"That isn't good enough!" Harry said weakly, his voice breaking. Cedric felt his fingers tighten around Harry's hand. "Sirius doesn't even know Remus is okay. He's innocent, why-this isn't right!"

"No," Dumbledore agreed. "I swear to you Harry, I will do my best to ensure your godfather's safety. The matter of his trial is among the many we must discuss this morning. I had hoped to avoid putting Sirius in this position, the outcome is far from certain. Please, sit down."

"He's...innocent." Harry's voice fell to a hoarse whisper. "We can't lose him too. We need him."

Mom. Thea. A hole ripped in the fabric of their worlds, of their hearts, that none of them could hope to fix. Most days, a wound Cedric couldn't figure out how he had survived-he had survived it though. All of it.

Harry was very insistent about reminding him of that.

Cedric gently put a shaky arm around Harry, nudging him towards the desk. "C'mon Harry," he said heavily.

Harry turned to him, his gaze concerned. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tight. "We can go back if…"

Inwardly, Cedric grimaced. Everyone seemed to treat him like he was made out of glass these days, even Harry. He didn't know what to tell them, the truth? No, no I'm really not but I can't be not okay because then... The truth would hurt them all, maybe Cedric most of all... I can't be weak...I have to be strong… Whoever had first thought stringing together the question, "Are you okay?" was a bloody moron in Cedric's opinion.

Weakly, Cedric managed the slightest of smiles. "I'm fine, Harry. Let's sit down."

"Harry, of course, cannot return to Privet Drive; this summer both of you will be returning to Grimmauld Place," Dumbledore began, looking between the two of them. "Order members will be in charge of escorting you from King's Cross, and, if all goes well, Remus, Amos, and Sirius will join you that evening."

"Wait, I'm not going to the trial?" Harry blurted out indignantly.

Neither of us are? Cedric thought with surprise. He had been ready to take to the stand to defend the man.

"No," Dumbledore shook his head.

"Why?" Harry demanded flatly, clearly as angry as Cedric felt.

"What happened last night, at the Ministry, will most likely be dragged up. Not only is Fudge wanting to connect Sirius to Voldemort, this is no longer a trial of Sirius' past innocence. We have to convince the Wizengamot of his current allegiance, his actions during the battle are indicative of such. I thought it prudent to avoid having either of you testify on what happened. Pensieve memories and potentially Veritaserum will be used." Cedric was, once again, annoyed.

Harry was downright seething. "I can testify for Sirius better than anyone! At least let me-"

"Let both of us," Cedric said, his voice strangely steady. "It's our choice to make."

Dumbledore looked between them both, his expression sad. "Harry, Cedric, I know how you must be feeling-"

"You really don't."

"Guilt," Dumbledore's voice was quiet. "But none of what happened was either of your fault. What you went through, what you are going through-"

"It's our choice," Cedric interrupted, startled that he was emotional enough to cut the Headmaster off. "You really don't get it. From the moment I touched that Portkey, I entered a fight-we entered a fight. We're still fighting it. You don't understand what happened last night, not really."

There was unspoken weight behind Cedric's words that seemed to linger in the air. Part of it was what was lost, the grief he knew he still had to face. Part of it was the anxiety and uncertainty that accompanied Sirius' fate being up in the air, and part of it was the topic everyone seemed to skirt around with Cedric.

Yeah, I was tortured, Cedric felt like muttering. Kind of hard to forget.

Harry was looking at him, a mixture of love, admiration, and concern in his eyes. Cedric did his best to muster a flicker of a smile for his boyfriend.

"I owe you both an apology," Dumbledore said finally. "You are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. Once again, I have failed you, and once again you have both endured horrors beyond what anyone should. Now you have lost Thea, Sirius' freedom hangs in the balance, and if it were not for the bravery both of you showed last night, I am afraid we may have lost many more. More was asked of you than should have ever been."

In the wake of Dumbledore's words, there was silence. The sun was shining over the grounds of Hogwarts, turning the surface of the Black Lake into a mirror of shining light, streaming in through the windows to light the office with a warm light. There was hardly a handful of clouds in the summer sky. It seemed so unfair that the weather could carry on so merrily in spite of what had been lost.

"But it's not going to get any better, is it," Cedric said bitterly, looking back at the Headmaster. Unconsciously he reached out with his good hand for Harry, and it was only a heartbeat before a steady hand closed around his own. "Harry can't escape this, and I can't...after everything, I could never leave him to face this alone. We're testifying at that trial, whatever it takes."

Dumbledore inclined his head slowly, "I do not believe stopping you to be within the capabilities of the power I wish to exercise. I will discuss plans for your guard at a later time. Please, be careful." For a long moment he was silent, as if struggling with a great burden he had just remembered existed. "Mr. Diggory, you are correct in your assessment. Harry cannot escape this. From the moment Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow, that was fact."

And then Dumbledore told them everything: the nature of the wards at the Dursleys-the justification for leaving Harry in such a place for so many years-wards which Dumbledore was afraid would soon fail as Harry's definition of family and home expanded far beyond the boundaries of what Privet Drive could ever be for him; the reason Dumbledore, fearing he would see Voldemort staring back at him from Harry's eyes, had kept his distance that year; the truth...about the prophecy.

Neither can live while the other survives, Cedric thought as he turned to look at his boyfriend, feeling certain he was going to be sick. Oh, Merlin, please no. I can't...He'll kill you. I can't lose you, too.

"'Neither can live while the other survives?'" Harry echoed the end of the prophecy as it faded to silence. His voice was strained, pulled tight like the cord of a bow. "One of us has to kill the other."

"Yes."

Cedric leaned back in his chair heavily, distantly aware of the tremors in his hands intensifying. The reality, the crushing weight of it, was solidifying like stone around him, making it difficult to even breathe.

"Hey," Harry's voice was steady, loving, if a bit strained at the edges. "Cedric, hey. I'm here. I've got you, right? We've got each other. We're going to get through this." Weakly, Cedric nodded, tightening his hand around Harry's.

When Harry and Cedric finally turned back to Dumbledore, somewhat more composed, his voice was gentle in a way it had not been before. "I do hope we are able to prove Sirius' innocence at the trial. After everything, you both deserve to live in a home filled with the people who love you. We can discuss these matters again later, both of you need rest."

Neither of them argued with that.

After a late breakfast in the kitchens-Dobby was in tears, overjoyed to see them-Harry and Cedric made their way back to the Hospital Wing. Though he was trying to hide it, Harry could tell Cedric needed another dose of the potions Madam Pomfrey had prescribed. Besides that, they had friends to check on.

Not more than a handful of seconds after they had opened the doors, Harry and Cedric found themselves wrapped in a bone crushing embrace. Both James and Gavin were awake, and from the strength of their hug, fully on the mend from the injuries they had sustained the night before.

"You're alright?" Cedric exclaimed as they broke apart, looking his friends over.

"Yeah," James' faint smile abruptly vanished. "And you two? Ced...your mom."

Cedric swallowed, and when he spoke his voice was tight. "Yea…"

"Harry?"

Harry turned to see Hermione, now sitting up awake, smiling at him. Leaving Cedric with Gavin and James, who were pulling him back into another hug-this one gentler-he walked over to her and sat on the edge of her bed. There was a line of potion vials on the nightstand that Hermione was undoubtedly taking for the foreseeable future, a physical reminder of the hell they had gone through together. For a moment they were both silent, Hermione looking at him sadly.

"Oh, Harry…" Hermione said softly, her voice breaking with tears as she pulled him into a hug.

All the anxiety for his friend's safety Harry had had to push aside during the battle washed over him again, and before he knew it he was crying into his best friend's shoulder. It was all too easy to close his eyes and remember the sight of her unconscious, barely breathing. After what had happened, it was impossible to forget...how fragile life really was. It could have been any one of them that was lost.

And, thinking of the war that lay ahead, Harry felt cold dread settling over his mind like a dense fog. How many more funerals would there be before the end of the war? There weren't really words for dealing with obstacles of this magnitude, all they could do was hold each other closer.

Sometime later, Ron came back to the Hospital Wing. His arms were still bandaged but it didn't seem like he was in too much pain. He pulled Harry into a hug without a word of greeting, tight enough that it seemed he was afraid Harry might disappear.

The six of them gathered around Hermione's bed, as Madam Pomfrey didn't want her moving about yet. Ron settled onto the bed next to Hermione, and James and Cedric transfigured four of the Hospital chairs into more comfortable loveseat sofas. James, Gavin, Ron, and Harry started a chess tournament. No one really talked about what had happened, but no one could forget it for a heartbeat.

Remus still hadn't woken up.

Both of them agreed, almost without speaking about it, that if they tried to sleep apart that night neither of them would get any rest. Neither of them had the energy to ask if anyone would care or wonder what their dormmates would say.

After that morning, they had braved their respective houses, reassuring everyone they were alright. Harry had been anxious every second in Gryffindor tower, constantly focusing on the pendant to remind himself Cedric was okay. After all that, he wasn't surprised when the Room brought them back to their room-the room with the four poster bed, hung in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor colors.

They collapsed, Harry holding Cedric to his chest gently.

"This isn't how I thought this year would end," Harry said softly.

"Yeah," Cedric said sharply. "I don't even...I've been stressed about that stupid interview for so long. That seems so unimportant now."

"Hey," Harry said, resting a hand against Cedric's face. "It's not unimportant. We'll figure it out, there's no way they wouldn't give you a second shot when you're ready. We need people like you doing jobs like that."

"People like me?"

"People who care," Harry smiled sadly. "Strong, brave people, willing to make a difference. That's the only way we're going to get through this."

"You really think we can get through this?" Cedric asked, his voice uncharacteristically bitter.

"I do," Harry said simply, nodding. For a time they were silent, and Harry lost himself in Cedric's grey-blue eyes. There was pain there, unimaginable pain, pain Harry would have given anything to take away.

Cedric's injured wrist was no longer bandaged, but the new skin was rippled, tough, and unnaturally shiny in places. The wound was close to being physically healed; the soulmark had even begun to return, the ink light where the flesh had been seared away. But magically, emotionally, even physically, that wound, like so many, went deeper than skin level. Harry could tell, as much as he clearly tried to hide it, that it was still hurting Cedric. A lot.

"Cedric?" Harry asked softly, running a finger gently through his boyfriend's hair. He held up his left wrist, the only soulmark between the two of them covered with red fabric.

"Yeah?" Cedric's voice was slightly sleepy.

"I want this gone," Harry said, his voice steadier as his confidence evened out. "Something to be said for tradition, the coverings made sense...before everything that happened. But now, all the worst people who could hurt us with this know."

"We're not getting married, and some people will find it unsightly," Cedric remarked, smiling slyly. "Although, one day…"

"We'll be hyphenating our names Potter-Diggory," Harry smiled back.

"I'm quite fond of Diggory-Potter…" Cedric trailed off, chuckling softly.

The levity in the air was forced, bittersweet with everything laying beyond it. But it was needed, in the same way drowning people need oxygen. Harry didn't think they could survive if every moment was heavy discussions about...the war. War was the only word for it.

And, if they were going to face death so regularly, Harry was done being discrete, done hiding in any way, shape, or form.

"I'm serious, Cedric," Harry said softly.

A moment later, Cedric drew his mother's wand...Cedric's wand now. Hawthorn wood rested gently against the cloth tied around Harry's wrist. Cedric smiled, "You're sure."

Harry nodded, pressing a kiss against Cedric's forehead, "Of course I'm sure."

"Diffindo."

The red fabric fell away, revealing the black ink of the triquetra and Cedric's initials. Harry's heart swelled with love at the sight, his chest filled with the knowledge that he wasn't alone. Somehow, that made everything easier.

Harry gently ran his hand through Cedric's hair and captured his lips with his own. The familiar blossoms of warmth, the lingering explosions of feeling, burned . It burned in the way the kiss of the sun burns after a winter of darkness and cold. It burned with passion.

Cedric leaned in, deepening the kiss. Desperate for every inch of it, any space between them too much, Harry pulled him closer, and even then, he...yearned for more. We need this, a quiet voice said in his mind. We need each other like we need air.

"I want you," Harry said, surprising himself with the confidence in his voice, even as he was left breathless as they broke apart. As he spoke, he was increasingly sure it was the truth. "Cedric, I want you in every way possible. No one else."

"Harry…" Cedric trailed off, his voice caught between passion and apprehension. "It's just-"

He cut him off with a kiss, gentle yet firm. "I know," Harry said, smiling sadly. "We need time to heal. It's not the right moment for us, but when it is...I'll be here. Always."

"I love you so much," Cedric sighed, resting against Harry's chest. "I just...I can't...she's gone , Harry," Cedric's voice broke and Harry pulled him closer, held on tighter. "I'm not sure of anything, except us right now. I don't want what happened, what we're going through, to mar your first time. Our first time."

"Okay," Harry said quietly, knowing he would have waited for the rest of his life if Cedric asked. They fell into a comfortable, intimate silence at that point, content to simply be together. Eventually Cedric drifted off and Harry quickly followed.

"You're going to die, Ceddy," the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange whispered in his ears. "And we'll call your boy along soon enough. Tell me, do you think my lord will be merciful? I rather hope not." She leaned over him, smirking. "But you and I have so much time to get to know each other before then."

You can't have him! Cedric wanted to scream. Get away from me! But, as he opened his mouth to talk, no word of any language emerged. He tried to move, to do anything to fight back, and found he could not move his limbs an inch. He was helpless, weak, panicking...it didn't seem like he could get any air in his lungs...

Bellatrix just laughed.

A round, smooth stone was pressed against his wrist. At first it was just barely, but then it was growing warmer...burning...he was screaming...every nerve in his body was on fire...was he dying? Was that what death felt like?

I don't want to die!

"Cedric!" Harry's voice, edging on desperation. "Cedric, you're safe. Love, I'm here. I've got you. Wake up!"

Cedric became aware of his surroundings slowly, realized that he was not trapped in the dark stone room, felt Harry's arms holding on to him tightly...but could not banish the reverberation of the memory of pain. He still felt...fragile, like his emotions were made of paper thin, hollow glass, like he might shatter at any moment…The ocean of sorrow was washing over him now, and he felt as though he might drown if Harry let go for even an instant.

"I'm going to break you," a voice- her voice-was whispering in his ears, echoing off the caverns of his mind. "And then I'm going to break him, too."

No...please...Merlin, have mercy…

He couldn't breathe, every fiber of his being was screaming to run, blood was rushing in his ears, he was shaking, sobs were tearing their way out of his chest, he couldn't breathe.

"Cedric!" Harry was holding him close, and it might have been painfully tight if that weren't the only thing Cedric was sure was really a sign they were still alive. "Cedric, you have to breathe. Breathe with me, Cedric. In," he forced a lungful of air into his body, "out." He forced it out. "In, out."

In, out...In, out...In, out..

Even behind the wall of Hogwarts, even with Harry right there, even as he slowly began to pull himself out of the tangled thorns of panic, Cedric didn't feel safe. Something deep within him was still screaming for him to run. But he knew there was nowhere they could run to escape this forever.

Harry was bound by fate to fight and survive or die trying.

"Neither can live while the other survives…"

In the near darkness of the room, warmed and lightened by the embers of the fireplace, Cedric could only focus on Harry's presence next to him and try to remind himself they survived. Harry's heartbeat under his ear sounded with a steady beat that ran in stark contrast to his own racing pulse. Harry's fingers were interlaced through his own and his thumb was rubbing a small, soft circle across the back of Cedric's hand.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry's voice was gentle, not insisting or asking for any more than what was willingly given.

Yes, a part of Cedric was almost screaming to be heard. Yes, I need to talk about it and I trust you and I want to talk about it with you. It's too much to remain unspoken, the words have too much weight for me to bear them alone, silently.

"No," Cedric said flatly.

"Okay," Harry said gently, "what do you want? How can I help?"

"Just...stay," Cedric said, hating how small his voice felt. "Just hold me until things start to make sense again."

"I'm here," Harry had been repeating that like a mantra, "I've got you."

Somehow, Cedric found sleep again that night, and mercifully, it was dreamless.