A quadruple drabble written for holiday 2005 for dorothynoland, who said she'd love to read Cedric/Harry.
Benison
Cedric worries about the tournament most of the time. He was happy and proud when his name came out of the Goblet of Fire, but he keeps hearing Professor Dumbledore's voice saying, "The death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued." He feels sorry for Potter; he believed it when the fourth-year said that he had not put in his name for the competition. Harry's look of terrified bewilderment was too revealing not to be genuine.
When Harry comes up to him in the corridor and warns him that the first task is dragons, Cedric is unsure whether he is telling the truth, but decides to take the chance and prepare as if it were.
And it is dragons, and Cedric is at least prepared with some ideas of what to do. He Transfigures a rock and manages to secure the golden egg guarded by the Swedish Short-Snout, though it takes him a long time and he ties with Fleur Delacour for third place. But he knows that without Harry's warning, he might have been too startled and frightened to do that well. He follows Harry one Saturday after lunch and says, "Want to have a little Quidditch practice?"
Harry looks surprised, but agrees. Cedric has a Snitch and they play for several hours, just the two of them, each catching it twice. He is impressed with Harry's ability; of course he knows that Harry was the youngest Seeker in a century, but Harry's style reveals practice as well as raw talent. They exchange a few tricks, too. Cedric will leave Hogwarts in the spring, it is his seventh year, and he will never play for Hufflepuff again.
In midafternoon Harry signals that he is ready to stop. They meet on the ground. "I have to write a Potions essay," he explains.
Cedric nods, holding his broomstick, but does not move to leave.
"What?" says Harry. "What is it?"
Cedric steps close, and Harry does not back away as Cedric leans down and brushes his lips against Harry's.
Harry's eyes widen and he puts out one hand, catching the sleeve of Cedric's robe. They kiss again, standing on the wet grass where little tendrils of mist are beginning to rise. No one is likely to come out here and see them, but Cedric is wary of being caught, and after a few minutes he lets Harry go.
"Thanks."