When Harry, Cho, and Cedric agreed to keep their relationship discreet, Harry worried he'd blow their secret in the first week. He'll be the first to admit he's not always the best at concealing his emotions. But he's proven so far to be pretty good at not drawing attention to himself. He doesn't doodle hearts in his notebook or gaze longingly at his partners across the Great Hall. When he spots them in the halls, he doesn't run up to them with open arms, but smiles, nods, and makes friendly conversation when it feels appropriate. All three of them are careful to not give anyone reason to suspect they're anything other than close acquaintances.
When they're on the ground, that is.
But in the sky.
In the sky, they can't keep their hands to themselves.
And it's grown into a problem.
The seasons have shifted from winter to spring to almost summer. Gone are the days where they were the only ones crazy enough to brave the cold and wind to spend the entire day out on their broomsticks. The shift in weather has brought more people into the air, and a lot of Cedric and Cho pretending to "fix his glasses" whenever someone ventures too close. They laughed off their close calls, until last week, when Cedric's friend Anthony picked an inopportune time to apologize for taking part in the "Potter Stinks" mania, and almost getting caught turned into the actually getting caught.
Not wanting a repeat of their past embarrassment, they agreed today they'll make a genuine attempt at being responsible by studying instead of snogging. Cho's O.W.L. exams are only a few weeks away, after all. Harry and Cedric quiz her on Astronomy while they fly around the grounds.
"When is the best time to view Orion?" Harry asks, reading off the flash card hovering in front of him.
"November to February," Cho says.
"What's Jupiter's lar-"
"Ganymede."
Cedric laughs. "Cho, let me finish the question first."
"You were going to ask what's Jupiter's largest moon. It's Ganymede," Cho says. "C'mon, keep them coming."
"What's the brightest star in the constellation Lyra?" Harry asks.
"Vega."
"How many moons does Mars have?" Cedric asks.
"Two. Phobos and Deimos."
"When's the best time to view Draco?" Harry asks.
"All year round."
"Nope."
Cho's brows furrow in confusion. "No, I'm right. I'm definitely right. Draco's a circumpolar constellation, so it never sets below the horizon."
"Actually, the correct answer is: after Professor Moody transfigures him into a ferret."
Cedric snorts, then laughs so hard Harry worries he might fall off his broomstick.
"Harry…" Cho says, rolling her eyes and stifling a laugh, "I mean, you're not completely wrong, but I don't think the Wizarding Examinations Authority would appreciate your sense of humor."
"I appreciate it though," Cedric holds up his palm for a high-five. Harry's inordinately proud he can return the gesture without turning it into hand-holding.
"Boys, I know we all loathe Malfoy, but can we stay focused, please?" Cho asks.
"Of course, sorry," Cedric says. "Do you want to keep going with Astronomy? I think you've got the hang of it."
"You think? Because you've only tested me on the stars and moons. There's still planets and comets and-"
"Cho, at the rate you're going, the Exam Authority will have to make up a grade higher than an O to give you," he grins. "Have you been practicing your stargazing for the practical portion?"
Cho nods. "Ravenclaw Tower is equipped with a set of excellent telescopes."
"Good, though if you wanted to practice in the Astronomy Tower… has Harry shown you his invisibility cloak?"
Cho smirks at him. "He has not."
Harry grins. "Just say the word and I'll sneak you up there sometime. It actually wouldn't be the first time I've done it."
"You still owe us that story, by the way," Cedric glances at his watch and frowns, "but not now. It's 2:50 and I've got prefect duty at 3:00."
"Aww... do you have to?" Cho sticks out her lower lip in a pout.
Cedric feigns a pained expression. "Sorry, I promised Rhys I'd cover for them. But... they agreed to take my shift Friday night, so we could get dessert in the Great Hall or check out one of those classrooms Harry suggested."
"Ooh... I like the sound of that," Cho says.
Cedric returns the stack of flashcards to Cho, his hands lingering in her longer than necessary. He does one cursory glance around, and finding no onlookers (besides Harry, who doesn't count for obvious reasons) leans in to kiss her on the lips.
"I'll see you Wednesday for Charms practice?" Cedric asks, after they've broken apart.
Cho nods. "Will you bring that book by Hecate Selwyn? It was really helpful last time."
"Sounds like a plan," Cedric grins at her, then turns and points at him. "And I'll see you Tomorrow."
Tomorrow. May 24th. Exactly one month before the third task. The two of them received identical letters with instructions to meet at the quidditch pitch at 9 PM, where they'll learn what they'll be squaring off against next.
"Meet me in the Great Hall at 8:45?" Harry asks.
"Let's make it 8:30," he says, then kisses him fondly farewell.
"Wait!" Cho calls after him as he flies towards the castle. She grabs him by the elbow and plants another lingering kiss on his lips. And there goes today's perfect behavior streak, not that Harry minds.
"Cho, come on, you're going to make me late," he says, trying to sound stern, but he's grinning too much and his cheeks are flushed pink with pleasure.
"Hang on, if Cho gets another kiss then I should get one too."
"Well, can't argue with that logic," Cedric flies over and tilts his chin up with this thumb. Even while sitting on broomsticks, Cedric's still got a few inches on him. Harry jokes sometimes that he hasn't hit his growth spurt yet, but in truth he doesn't mind. It's nice, being in the middle with one partner taller and shorter than him.
He and Cho watch Cedric grow smaller and smaller until he's a speck of floppy brown hair on the ground. They got lucky, no one seems to have noticed their bit of PDA. The group of Slytherins are still engrossed in tossing their quaffle around (of course Snape lets them use the school quidditch supplies), and the person doing chaser drills around the towers is probably too far away to tell what they were doing, much less identify them.
"So, shall we start another subject? How about Ancient Runes?" Harry asks. Last night he went to Hermione for advice on how to help her study, since he's not at all familiar with the subject.
"Actually, I was hoping you could help me with Defense. Is that alright?"
He nods. Cho reaches into her small crossbody bag and hands him another stack of self-shuffling flashcards.
"What spell would you use to get past a Hinkypunk?" he asks.
"Hmm…."
Cho's responses come slow and hesitant. There are a lot of ums… and uhs… that were absent when they practiced Astronomy. Sometimes she gets so lost in thought, her flying slows to a complete stop. She's mentioned before Defense Against the Dark Arts is her weakest subject. Still, he can tell she's been practicing. Harry gives her some gentle coaching when it feels appropriate, but she usually doesn't need it. She always gives him an answer, even if it's a stab in the dark.
"What spell would you use to get past a Silverspinner?"
"Um..." Cho purses her lips and squints in concentration, "You er… ask it nicely to move?"
Harry laughs. "You could try, but Silverspinners can't hear so… it probably won't be very effective."
"Uh… then…" she thinks for another moment, then sighs. "I don't know, just tell me."
"No, you've got this. If it can't hear, then it has to compensate with another sense, right?"
"I guess… so… that means it can see really well?"
Harry nods. "And what spell can you use to weaken its sight?"
There's a pause, then:
"Oh! Lumos Maxima! You blind it!"
"See, I told you you could figure it out."
"Thanks to you, of course," she grins at him. "You're a really good teacher."
"I dunno about that. I'm just copying what Professor Lupin did last year."
"Well, you picked a good person to emulate," Cho says. "I hope he's doing alright. It was so unfair what happened to him, don't you think? He's probably the best Defense professor we've had, and it's not his fault he's a werewolf. He shouldn't've had to resign because of it. "
Harry grins, and another starburst of affection for her ignites inside him. Sometimes he thinks he can't find more reasons to like Cho, then she'll say something surprising and wonderful and he gets butterflies all over again.
"Don't worry, I think he's doing alright. Last I heard from Snuffles, he's living somewhere in the country and working odd jobs around Diagon Alley."
"Sorry, did you say Snuffles? As in that stray dog from Hogsmeade?"
Harry gulps, and his stomach twists into an uncomfortable knot. He's grown so comfortable speaking candidly with her, he forgot she's not in on that particular secret. At least he used his Godfather's nickname. He'd rather not picture Cho's reaction to finding out he and her beloved former professor are on friendly terms with Sirius Black.
"I uh… meant Professor McGonagall?" He says, hating the way his voice rises at the end so he sounds like he's asking a question.
"Oh, okay," Cho nods, but she still stares at him with a bewildered expression. Maybe he should change the subject before he digs himself deeper into this hole.
"So… have you decided to carry on with Defense next year? Last time we talked, it sounded like you were going to drop it."
Cho sighs, "I don't know. I really like to drop it, but nearly every Ministry position requires a NEWT in Defense so... it's in my best interest to carry on. As my parents keep saying: it's the practical choice."
"They're still on about that, huh?"
"Unfortunately, yes, they've mentioned it in every letter since Easter. Oh, and did I tell you my Mum wants me to clerk for her this summer?" Cho groans and sticks out her tongue, as if eating a large bowl of gillyweed holds more appeal than a Ministry internship.
"Sounds… riveting," he says. "What does your Mum do at the Ministry again?"
"She's on the Wizengamot. It's basically the same thing as a muggle judge. My Dad is a muggle judge and they're always asking each other for advice."
"Oh right," he says, recalling now the Witch Weekly article mentioned her job title. "And um… why exactly did Rita Skeeter say she's controversial?"
Cho rolls her eyes. "It depends on the day, really. Usually it's because she disagreed with a ruling my Mum made, but sometimes it's over the stupidest things. Like, last year she claimed she wore fake glasses to appear more dignified."
"What? That's- you're right, that's really stupid," Harry says, trying and failing to stifle a laugh.
"I know. She's practically blind without her glasses. Much like someone else I know," Cho smiles and playfully pokes his shoulder.
"Hey, my vision isn't that bad."
"Oh yeah?" Cho smirks. In one swift movement, she swipes his glasses off his face and flies away.
Laughing, Harry chases after her, sparing only a moment to collect the flashcards. It's easy enough to follow the human-shaped blob a few feet ahead of him, even without his glasses. Cho likes to tease, but she'd never be purposefully cruel. She can fly much faster and far more reckless than she is right now.
Harry reaches out and clumsily clamps a hand on her shoulder. She's blurry, but he can tell she's grinning. She reaches up to put his glasses on, taking care to be gentle and not poke him in the eye. Her face comes into focus, all tiny freckles and long, dark eyelashes. Her hands linger on his face, caressing his cheeks and smoothing out his hair. He could tell her her efforts are for naught, but decides his lips could be put to better use kissing her.
This isn't wise. Those Slytherins are still close by, not to mention they still don't know how Rita's been able to sneak onto school grounds. They should stop, he knows they ought to stop, but Cho sighs and he gets another taste of her strawberry lip gloss.
Maybe getting caught wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.
The next evening Cedric waits for him at the bottom of the main staircase at 8:30 PM sharp. As they make their way down to the quidditch pitch, their peers pass by in the opposite direction, heading towards the castle. Odd, as it's still fairly light out and curfew isn't for another half hour. The sky is all pinks and peaches as the sun dips beneath the mountains. On the night of the third task, the sun probably won't set until very late in the day.
Harry's not sure who reaches for the other's hand first. Their palms brush in a slow but deliberate movement, then their fingers intertwine.
"So, what do you reckon the third task will be?" Cedric asks.
"I dunno, but it looks like it's going to involve the quidditch pitch," he says. "Remember Cho mentioned a while back it looked like Hagrid was growing something in there? Maybe we'll have to fight a venomous plant?"
"Could be. Come to think of it, Professor Sprout's been oddly tight-lipped about what she's growing in Greenhouse eight. If it's a dangerous plant, she's probably involved."
"Or maybe it's the opposite?" Harry suggests. "Maybe Hagrid was clearing out all the grass on the pitch? Maybe it'll be like a gladiatorial arena or something."
"Or maybe he was digging something. Fleur mentioned something the other day about underground tunnels and buried treasure."
They keep going, their suggestions growing more and more ridiculous until all their ideas are too expensive, too dangerous, or impossible to pull off even with magic. When they reach the quidditch pitch, his chest aches from laughter.
"So a couple weeks ago, Kaz was telling me about monster truck rallies," Cedric says. "It's this thing where muggles drive these giant cars that fly in the air and crush other cars."
Harry snorts. "I'm familiar with the concept, but I'm fairly certain that would violate every rule in the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy."
"Yeah, but so does bringing four dragons into England. The Ministry can obviously pull some strings regarding the law. And you and Ron flew that enchanted car to Hogwarts a few years back, so y'know, it is possible."
"Still… monster trucks?"
Cedric laughs. "How am I the crazy one when you suggested unicorn jousting?"
"Hey, it could work. Those horns are really sharp."
"Yes, but Harry, they're unicorns. Getting them to fight each other would be like getting Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts to behave for five seconds," Cedric frowns. "Merlin, what if we have to fight the Skrewts?"
"Then I don't care what the rules say, I'm dropping out."
They're the first ones to arrive at the pitch, not surprising since they left the castle so early. Fleur and Krum could show up any minute though, so it's best not to wander too far, or get too handsy. Cedric tries the main gate, and finding it's still locked, plops down underneath a nearby sycamore tree. Harry sits next to him, resting his head on his shoulder. If only he could enjoy this nice, quiet moment with his boyfriend without the pressure of the third task dragging him down.
"Hey Cedric?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't think I've ever asked you. Why did you put your name in the Tournament?"
He doesn't answer right away. "I suppose... I thought it sounded fun. I like challenges, you know?"
"So you didn't- it wasn't the money, or the fame?"
"No. Well… the money is nice, but no. The way I see it, I'm no more worthy of fame than you or the eleven other Hogwarts students who put their name in. They all would've been fine champions."
"Yes, but the Goblet chose you."
"I'm sure that would've been different if Anthony was allowed to enter, but he only turned 17 last month so he wasn't eligible."
Harry smiles, and kisses him softly on the cheek. Cedric's unwavering humility was endearing when they first started dating. But he wonders sometimes, and he's talked privately about it with Cho, if his "No, you're much better than I am." attitude is truly how he sees himself.
"Did you ever figure out who put your name in the Tournament?" Cedric asks.
"Nope."
"And er… you definitely didn't do it yourself?"
"I definitely did not."
"Weird. I wonder what someone had to gain from you being entered into the tournament?"
"Evening boys!" Mr. Bagman waves as he comes down the path. Harry flinches, and he can feel Cedric do the same. They're not doing anything particularly telling- he's sat under trees with Ron and Hermione before- but there's still this uneasy feeling, like they were caught doing something they shouldn't.
Harry stands quickly and brushes off his robes. He offers Cedric a hand, but spots Mr. Bagman watching them with a keen interest and takes it back.
"Hello Mr. Bagman," Cedric says.
"You must be eager to find out about the third task, eh?" Mr. Bagman says. "I'd love to let you take a peek, but we best wait for Ms. Delacour and Mr. Krum. I don't want to get accused of favoritism now."
Mr. Bagman laughs, as though he's said something particularly witty. Cedric nods and smiles politely, and Harry gets the feeling he's not the only one hoping Fleur and Krum show up soon.
They're forced to make awkward small talk with Mr. Bagman until Fleur finally arrives. Krum trails in a few moments later. After they've all exchanged pleasantries, Mr. Bagman unlocks the gate and leads them onto the quidditch pitch.
"Whoa."
"Yeah," Cedric says, looking similarly stunned, "I mean, I knew it was going to be different, but this is- what is this?"
A year ago the quidditch pitch was a flat, meticulously maintained lawn. Now it's been replaced by grassy hedges at least 20 feet high. Even Hagrid would need a ladder to see over them. Harry thinks about those muggle adventure movies where someone cuts through thick jungle foliage with a machete. He'll have to ask Ron or Hermione if they know of a spell with a similar effect.
Mr. Bagman claps his hands, calling them to attention. "Okay, who wants to guess what the third task is?"
No one answers at first, then Krum mutters something Harry can't quite make out, but Mr. Bagman looks pleased.
"That's right! The third task is a maze."
Mr. Bagman goes on to explain the rules. The four of them have to fight their way through a maze filled with dangerous obstacles (Harry can't help but notice he's deliberately vague on what those obstacles are). Whoever touches the cup at the center of the maze first wins the tournament.
"That explains why Hagrid didn't want us to fly over the quidditch pitch these last few months," Cedric whispers, "if we did we would have known the solution."
Mr. Bagman lets them ask a few questions, then allows them to explore their new surroundings, except they're explicitly barred from entering the maze or going to the upper stands for an aerial view. Because looking at hedges isn't particularly interesting, the four of them wander around a few minutes, then leave.
Fang howls in the distance as he and Cedric return to the castle. The sun has almost completely set, and the temperature is cooler than when they left an hour ago. Harry's reaching for Cedric's hand when someone taps him on the shoulder.
"Could I have a quick word with you?" Krum asks.
"Okay. What's up?" Harry asks. He waits for Krum to speak, but he just sticks his hands in his pockets and gestures towards the forbidden forest.
"Will you walk with me? I don't want to be overheard."
"Uh… alright," he says. Cedric casts him a confused look. Harry tries to communicate with his eyebrows he doesn't know what this is about either.
"Do you want me to wait for you?" Cedric asks.
"No, I'll be fine."
"Okay, I'll see you Friday then."
Krum silent as they head down the path and into the forest. Harry holds his tongue instead of asking what he wants. Krum probably won't say anything until he's sure not even the centaurs can overhear them. It must be something quite sensitive if he's going through all this secrecy. Maybe it has to do with Karkaroff? Harry hasn't forgotten the cryptic conversation Snape had with him a few weeks ago.
"What is your relationship with Herm-o-ninny?"
Krum's expression is the picture of grave seriousness, but his question… it's just so trivial. Harry has to bite on his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Krum really dragged him all the way to the Forbidden Forest to ask about Hermione.
"We're friends."
"Just friends?"
"Yup, just friends. We've never seen each other, nor have we ever wanted to. Anything you've heard otherwise was completely made up," he says. "Er… hasn't Hermione told you that already?"
"She has said something similar, yes... but she talks about you often and with great fondness."
Harry wants to shout at him he's already in a relationship, and if he'd waited two seconds, he would have caught him holding hands with one of his partners. Except, no, Harry doesn't need to prove anything. Krum is the one in the wrong here for jumping to conclusions and accusing him of having romantic feelings for his best friend.
"Hermione's fond of me as a friend, nothing more," he says. "Don't you trust her?"
"I- I suppose you're right."
Their conversation gets interrupted by an unnatural rustling behind them. Heavy, uneven footsteps draw closer. Something large emerges from between the shadowy trees. Harry takes out his wand, preparing himself for a forest dwelling beast, but instead a haggard-looking man stumbles into the light.
If Harry had not met Mr. Crouch before, he would not have recognized him now. It takes him a few moments to place this man with an unshaven face, sallow skin, and bloodstained robes as the prim and proper Ministry man Percy admired so much. Stranger still is how he's muttering and gesticulating, engaged in a lively conversation with absolutely no one.
"When you've done that, Weatherby," Mr. Crouch says, making direct eye contact with an oak tree, "send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students who will be attending the tournament. Karkaroff just sent word there will be twelve."
"Er… Mr. Crouch?" Harry says. He ventures a few steps closer, keeping his wand at the ready. Mr. Crouch doesn't acknowledge him.
"Ludo says he hasn't heard back from the Prime Minister of Sweden about our request to borrow a dragon for the first task. I imagine he hasn't even asked her yet. Yes, Weatherby, you've mentioned you have a brother who works with dragons, but we need to clear this through the proper channels."
"Mr. Crouch?" Harry says, louder this time. "Are you all right?"
"What's wrong with him?" Krum asks.
"I… don't know," Harry says. "Maybe we should fetch Madam Pomfrey. She might be able to-"
"Dumbledore!" Mr. Crouch shouts. He grabs the collar of Harry's robes and drags him uncomfortably close. His eyes seem strangely alert in a way they weren't a few seconds ago. "I need... to see... Dumbledore... Need to... tell him…. My fault…. All my fault."
"Okay. Okay, I'll get Dumbledore," Harry says, hoping this means he'll let go of him, but his grip remains firm. "Just let go, Mr. Crouch, and I'll get him."
"Must warn... must tell him…. Thank you, Weatherby, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly, we are attending a concert tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge," Mr. Crouch turns his attention back to the oak tree. Now free from his grip, Harry scrambles backwards towards Krum.
"I'll go get Dumbledore," Harry says. "Will you keep an eye on him? Make sure he doesn't run off or hurt himself."
"What? You can't leave me alone with him!"
"I'll be quick, I promise."
Krum bites his lip, "Well- okay, but hurry, won't you?"
Harry nods, then sprints out of the forest and up towards the castle. He's going so fast and his mind is so frazzled that he almost misses Cedric leaning against the sycamore tree by the quidditch pitch.
"Hey! I know you said not to wait, but-" Cedric's expression shifts to one of concern, "are you alright?"
"Do you- do you know where the Headmaster's office is?" He asks, panting and out of breath.
"Yeah, it's on the second floor next to that ugly gargoyle statue. Why? Harry, what's going on?"
"I need you to fetch Professor Dumbledore? Tell him-" he pauses, not sure how to explain without sounding like a lunatic, "Tell him Mr. Crouch is in the Forbidden Forest, and he has something he needs to tell him."
Cedric's eyes widen. "Mr. Crouch? From the Ministry? Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. It's definitely him, and he seems… not right, like he's ill or something. Please, will you go get Professor Dumbledore?"
"Yes, of course. I'll be as fast as I can," Cedric takes his hands and squeezes them gently. "Please be careful, Harry."
"I will."
Crouch is still giving orders to the tree when Harry returns. Krum kept his word and guards him from a comfortable distance, his wand held in a firm grip at his side.
"Where is Dumbley-door?" Krum asks.
"Cedric's gone to get him. They should be back soon," he says. "Has Mr. Crouch said anything coherent since I left?"
"Not really. I don't think so. Sorry, he speaks very fast and my English isn't the best."
"It's fine. I'm fluent in English and I don't know what he's going on about either," he grins sheepishly. "I think I've got it covered from here. You can go back to your ship. Thanks for staying with him."
"Of course. You were right, it wouldn't be wise to leave him like this," Krum starts towards the main path, but turns back after only a few steps. "You um… you play quidditch, yes?"
"Yeah. I'm a seeker, same as you."
Krum hesitates a moment. "You fly quite well. I was watching you during the first task. I thought you should have gotten a higher score."
"Oh, uh... thank you," he says, suddenly feeling quite flustered. "You're loads better than I am though. I was at the Quidditch World Cup when you- the Wronski Feint, you really-"
"Stupefy!"
There's a loud whiplike crack, then a bright red light strikes Krum from behind. He groans, then falls forward and collapses onto the forest floor. Harry flounders before coming to his senses, then readies his wand. Was that Mr. Crouch? No, he's still talking to the tree, oblivious to the outside danger. Harry squints into the night in a desperate attempt to find the assailant, but an eerie mist has settled over the forest. Something vaguely human-shaped lurks between two trees. Harry can't tell if it's a person or a beast or just his imagination.
"Stupefy!"
Another beam of red light strikes Harry in the chest, knocking him back and slamming him hard against a tree.
That voice. The person who spoke the curse. He's heard it somewhere before. But his head is woozy and he can't concentrate. Harry closes his eyes, and succumbs to sudden and overwhelming fatigue.
Oh right, there's supposed to be a plot in this thing.
Comments and favorites are always appreciated! Also! feel free to say hi on tumblr! (perichat . tumblr . com)
SPOILERS:
Don't worry y'all, Harry's fine, he's only been stunned. He wakes up in the hospital wing no worse for wear in the first paragraph of the next chapter.