Title: Private Countdown
Rating: PG
Pairing: Harry/Cedric
Summary: A unexpected meeting on New Year's Eve.
Notes: Set during GoF. I wrote this in about a hour and I think the ending is a little rushed and some parts drag on too much - tell me what you think so I can rework it:) Oh, and I owe my boyfriend so much for letting me use his computer to write this and I also owe my friends for letting me miss out on their poker game without accusing me of not wanting them to teach me how to play (because it's not that at all, even though there might be a hint of truth here).

After the schoolwide (well, almost schoolwide since third-years and under couldn't attend) party that had been the Yule Ball, Fred and George Weasley decided to host their own little, Gryffindor-private party on New Year's Eve. As usual, to most of their classmates' astonishment, they managed to produce enough Butterbeer and junk food to please the entire house, and even, somehow, smuggled Firewhisky in.

Hermione was already in the twins' hair when she saw that a couple of first-years had put their hands on some of that Firewhisky, and it only made matters worse when Ron, who had drunk some of that stuff as well, told her to "take a chill pill".

This was going to get very ugly, Harry reflected, as he sat in a comfortable armchair near the fireplace, watching along with at least half of the house the argument unfolding before them.

"I am not going to calm down, Ronald Weasley, for the simple reason that this load of Firewhisky shouldn't have been here in the first place. I ought to report you two to Professor McGonagall!" she added, rounding on the twins.

"Blimey, I'm starting to wish this one doesn't get the Prefect badge next year," Fred whispered to George, who nodded in agreement.

"Calm down, Hermione," George said finally. With a lazy motion of his wand, he Vanished all the offending bottles. "Happy now? There's only Butterbeer left. I personally invite you to taste all of them, if you don't believe me."

Hermione only glared, then stomped off, dropping into a chair beside Harry's, her arms crossed. Harry glanced at her warily, then decided against talking to her for the time being, preferring to let her sulk for a while.

Ron, on the other hand, wasn't as tactful. His cheeks flushed and his ears reddened, he sat down on Hermione's other side and immediately rounded up on her. "You're not going to report them," he stated.

The frizzy-haired brunette glowered at him. "And why is that, Ronald?"

"Because you never do," Ron said simply. "It's all empty threats with you." Harry couldn't help but silently agree with his friend.

Unfortunately, the statement got the teenage girl worked up again. "Empty threats, you say? We'll see who is laughing once I've reported all three of you to McGonagall!"

"Me?" Ron spluttered. "But- why?"

"For one thing, you didn't do anything to stop them. And you drank some yourself."

"I'm not the only one! Lee, and Seamus, and Parvati-"

Sensing the danger at staying in Hermione's immediate surroundings at the moment, and nearly seeing steam coming out of her ears, Harry stood up and mumbled something about getting a Butterbeer – although neither of his best friends appeared to hear him – but instead of walking towards the table laden with bottles and chips, he made his way across the common room to the portrait hole, which swung open when he approaced. Harry climbed through the hole and found himself out in the seventh-floor corridor.

"Going for a late-night stroll, are we?" The Fat Lady said dissaprovingly.

Harry said nothing as he set off towards one end of the corridor. It was only once he rounded the corner that he realized he didn't have his Invisibilty Cloak with him. Not really keen on returning to the common room, he decided to keep going anyway – he'd just have to be extra careful.

His footsteps eventually led the raven-haired youth to the top of the Astronomy tower. Making his way to the nearest window, Harry noticed it was snowing. White, heavy snowflakes fell from the sky, twirling in the wind until they reached the sparkling ground, adding to its thickness. He leaned against the cold, stony wall and reached a hand out, catching some snowflakes in his palm and watching them against the warmth of his skin.

"Harry?" Hearing his name spoken in a quiet, soft voice, he turned around, startled. Cedric Diggory stood in the doorway, looking a little hesitant.

"Cedric? What are you doing here?"

The sixth-year Hufflepuff stepped forward, his cloak floating around his body with each step he made. "I could ask you the same thing."

Harry turned back to watching the snow, slightly shrugging. "I don't really know. I just left the common room, and somehow ended up here." He glanced at Cedric, who had by now come to stand beside him. "What about you?"

The older boy reached out to sweep the sheet of snow covering the window sill, reveling in its cold. "I escaped from a celebration that was quickly getting out of hand."

Harry gaped at him. "Aren't you a Prefect?" Cedric nodded, looking amused. "And aren't you supposed to be the one trying to get things back under control?"

Cedric actually chuckled at that. "You've never tried to reason with a drunk Ernie Macmillan, have you?"

Harry shook his head, grinning. "So I guess your party too involved smuggled Firewhisky?"

"When I left, Justin Finch-Fletchley was dancing on a table with half his clothes scattered around him," Cedric offered as an answer.

"I left in the middle of an argument between Ron and Hermione," Harry told him. "He's, uh, drank quite a bit, and he kind of got on her bad side – and she was already worked up about first-years getting their hands on Firewhisky..."

"Ouch." Cedric winced. "I'm guessing that wasn't pretty."

"Absolutely not." Harry reached outside again to scoop up a few snowflakes. "I decided to get away before I somehow got dragged into this – besides, it's New Year's Eve; we shouldn't be fighting."

"I completely agree." Cedric leaned against the wall, his position mirroring Harry's, and stared off into the distance. "I love this time of year," he said, breathing in the winter air. "It just feels so magical, you know? With Christmas just behind us, and a new year right around the corner..."

"I love this too," Harry replied. "Can you believe I hated Christmas before I first came to Hogwarts?" he confessed. Why was he confiding in Cedric Diggory, he didn't know, but Harry felt at ease with telling him this.

"Why?" Cedric asked gently.

"I don't know if you're aware that I live with Muggles, my aunt and uncle?" Harry took Cedric's shake of his head as a no. "They're not exactly the... nicest people in the world. They, um... hate everything that's related to magic. Of course, that means I'm not exactly among their favorite people. And since they're my only living relatives... I've never been really spoiled at Christmas. Actually, I was lucky if I got as much as a napkin, while my cousin gets showered with gifts every year..." he finished bitterly.

"Nasty," Cedric commented. Had Harry looked at him, he would have seen the expression of disgust the older boy wore. "And what changed your feelings towards Christmas?"

"In my first year, I got my very first real presents," Harry explained, feeling much happier at the mere thought. "Ron, Hermione, Hagrid – even Ron's mum sent me the huge package she gives each of her children. For the first time, I felt appreciated." He felt stupid saying this, but that really was how he felt.

Cedric made a small noise. "So everything turned out for the best."

"Yup, it did." Harry nodded absently as he leaned over the window sill to peer down the tower at the snow-covered grounds. "It's so beautiful," he sighed. "At night especially, when the moonlight reflects on the snow – instead of sending up blinding light like during the day, it just sparkles. Sometimes I just sit in the common room, near a window, and stare outside for hours." He chuckled to himself.

"Lucky you," Cedric said, a little wistfully. "We don't have real windows in our common room – only enchanted ones. Even though they match the weather outside, it's just not the same." He rested his hands on the edge of the window, imitating Harry and glancing outside. "I should get back to the common room and get a little control over the fiesta – but I don't really want to."

"Prefects are supposed to show the good example, not the bad," Harry told him, a smile playing on his face.

"Well, sometimes you just wanna be bad, you know?" Cedric smiled mischieviously, and Harry felt a shiver creep down his spine. "Are you cold?" the Hufflepuff asked worriedly.

"No," the young Gryffindor replied automatically.

Cedric gently reached out and touched Harry's hand. "Your hand is cold," he said, almost reproachfully.

"So is yours," Harry retorted. But suddenly he regretted not putting on his Weasley jumper like Ron did.

Wordlessly, Cedric unfastened his cloak and wrapped it around Harry's shoulders. "Now you're the one who'll be cold," he protested, trying to take it off, but Cedric's hand were still on his shoulders, keeping it in place.

"I have three layers of shirts on," he said, as if it settled the matter.

Harry made a disbelieving noise but didn't protest any further. "Thanks," he mumbled. Cedric just smiled at him.

They fell into a slightly awkward silence, which was broken by Cedric after a few minutes of just staring out at the school grounds.

"So, uh... how did you like the Yule Ball?"

An unpleasant feeling crept into Harry's stomach as he thought of Cedric's date – Cho Chang – in front of whom he'd made a fool of himself by asking her to the Ball when Cedric had already beat him to it. "It was okay," he replied, keeping his voice neutral. "I'm not exactly a dancer, but I think I managed."

"Yeah, it was fun." Cedric grinned, remembering the evening. "I love the Weird Sisters, don't you?"

"It was the first time I'd heard them," Harry answered truthfully, "but I think they're pretty good."

"Hmm." They lapsed into silence again.

When Harry decided to head back to Gryffindor Tower and opened his mouth to tell Cedric so, the older boy glanced down at his watch. "It's almost midnight," he commented softly.

"We should head back to our common rooms," Harry said, jumping on the occasion, "to, you know, take part in the traditional countdown and stuff."
But Cedric shook his head, looking from his watch to Harry. "There's not enough time left to go back." He grinned and leaned against the window sill. "Guess it's just you and me for the countdown, Potter."

"Great," Harry muttered, but he was grinning too.

"Hmph," Cedric said good-naturedly. "Don't you like my company?" Harry just laughed as the Hufflepuff dropped his gaze to his watch again. "Thirty seconds to go," he announced. Harry stepped closer to see the moving hands as well and, noticing that Cedric was shivering despite everything he said, he pulled one end of the cloak around him, forcing their bodies together. Cedric gazed at him for a moment, smiling slightly. "Twenty... fifteen... ten..."

"Nine," Harry piped in.

"Eight," they counted off together. "Seven... six... five... four... three... two... one."

"Well, here we are," Cedric concluded. "January the first, 1995."

"Happy New Year, Cedric," Harry said, looking up at his companion's face. Harry stuck out his hand for Cedric to shake as a celebrating gesture, and the Hufflepuff grasped it – only he just held it instead of shaking it. "Cedric?" Harry was now embarrassingly aware of how close they were. Cedric's grey eyes locked with Harry's emerald green as he let his arm drop to his side.

Then, without warning, Cedric leaned down and captured Harry's lips with his own. At first startled, the Gryffindor soon relaxed and returned the gesture. Cedric's arms snaked around his waist, pulling him closer, while Harry tentatively pressed a hand to the back of the older boy's neck, the other resting on Cedric's back, between his shoulder blades. Faintly, in the back of his mind, he realized that he was kissing Cedric Diggory, a guy, but then a little voice in his head said, "Who cares?" and chased the thought away.

Finally Cedric pulled away and rested his forehead against Harry's, gasping a little for air, and smiled, looking down at him with half-closed eyes. "Happy New Year, Harry."