This is part 15 of the OFFICIAL CHIBI ALANIA UNWRITTEN HARRY POTTER SLASH MONTH!
This month, from Monday July 11th 2005 until Wednesday August 11th 2005, I am having an Unwritten Harry Potter Slash Month - I have found 30 different Harry Potter slash couples that have 3 or less fics written about them in and each day, I will post a one-shot fic about that couple.
1 month: 30 days: 30 couples: 30 fics: 1 author.
Now, for the fun part! On the 31st August, one person who has shown me support and encouragement will find a lovely little email in their inbox offering them a fantastic prize for their support.
So, review (leave email addresses if you haven't logged in, please), give me support and ye shall receive threefold!
And today we have Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Cedric Diggory.
So, on with the fic!
WARNINGS: Slash, AU, Spoilers (book 4), Character Death (hardly surprising, really) mentions of HP/RW.
DISCLAIMER: If I owned it, do you honestly thing Cedric would have died?
SUMMARY: #15; OCAUHPSM: CD/HP. Harry says his final goodbyes to Cedric, on the anniversary of his death.
NOTE: Half way there! Set at the end of Harry's Fifth Year, just before he turns sixteen. From the end of the Graveyard, everything is AU; the Minister believed Harry, and Sirius did not die, because everything was different.
Farewell My Love.
Harry could feel his hand, hard and still warm and oh so real, as he gripped it firmly. Even now, a year to the day since Cedric died, he could still feel his hand gripped tightly in his own. Could hear his last wish - to be taken home - whispered in his ear. Could imagine his grateful thanks, pounded into his smaller, delicate body at night with a hand fisted around a weeping erection and tears coating his face as thoroughly as his come coated his abdomen.
He'd discovered this obsession over the other Seeker when he'd told him to take a bath and the first thought to pass Harry's mind centered around he and Cedric sharing a bath. The image had haunted him, especially after he'd actually been to the Prefect's bath and could imagine it all perfectly. But Cedric was dating Cho - his first crush, ironically enough - and the chances of being with Cedric were about as strong as his chances of getting Professor Snape to smile at him without imagining his slow, gruesome death at the same time.
The pain of losing Cedric didn't ever fade, really. The war was going strong, the Wizarding World had been warned and were preparing for Voldemort's rise, although the Dark Lord had been quite furious that Harry had escaped and his rise had been revealed far too early. People were dying around the Wizarding World - no one Harry knew and cared about, thankfully - he was taught as much as possible in the hopes of defeating Voldemort - something only Harry could do.
And, underneath it all, was the dreadful pain of losing Cedric. It never went away, it never ceased. Even when he played Quidditch, he could feel it, Cedric, lingering just beneath the surface. He would wonder; did Cedric feel the same freedom in the air that Harry did? Did he feel the same delightful shivers at feeling the cool air sift through his hair like a lover's caress? Did he feel so fantastically euphoric when he won a game? The questions tumbled through his mind, and Harry found himself beginning to ask questions. He'd talk to people, those close to Cedric who felt they owed him something for bringing him home. He'd find out little tid-bits of information, like how Cedric had a phobia of anything above him. Tiny details that built up to the man that Harry had killed.
It was a strange obsession, and one that frightened Harry to his very core. Cedric was dead, he knew that, and yet some part of him couldn't let the other man go.
But today, on Cedric's anniversary, Harry was finally letting go. He was beside Cedric's grave stone, one that spoke of his loyalty, his bravery and his sense of fair play. He couldn't help but take a moment to trace the words. Loyal it read, brave; false words. There was no part of the man that Harry had come to know over the last year in these words, there were only a few clean cut, clinical words. None of his faults, his hopes. None of his dreams for the future.
Harry traced the name one last time; Cedric Amos Diggory; carved roughly into black marble, before he turned away.
Ron was waiting for him at the end of the path, and gently wrapped his arms around him when Harry reached him, quiet and solemn, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Harry turned around and closed the gate to the Diggory mausoleum. Before he closed the gate fully, he murmured a soft, "Farewell, Cedric.", before he left to live his own life, with his new love.