"Just take the cloak off, Harry!" Hermione hissed, reaching under the table to fumble for the hem of the aforementioned garment. "Nobody is going to say anything, alright? And Skeeter's finally made herself scarce, so there's no need to worry about her, either! I just hate talking to you while you're wearing this thing," she tugged at the cloak and Harry quickly grabbed at it himself, tearing it from her grasp and glancing about the crowded pub nervously. It didn't seem like anybody'd noticed their spat, too focused on nursing their butter-beers and chatting with one another. He swiveled back around, fixing his friend with a glare she couldn't see.

"Hermione, I'm not taking it off! I've had enough of everyone's shit-"

"Language!" She interjected.

"Oh, come off it, Hermione, you have to be sick of it, to! That last piece of hate-mail nearly blew your fingers off! I just need a break from being gawked at," Harry pushed out his chair and stood up swiftly, rubbing his face. The heat of the tavern was stifling. "I need to get out of here. I'll see you later, before I go off to Hagrid's," he said dismissively. Before Hermione could object he was weaving through the crowd of patrons and throwing open the door of the pub, rushing out into the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade.

The village was quite crowded, bustling with students and visitors alike. Snow crunched beneath his feet as he struggled to navigate the throng of people. He'd have to apologize to Hermione later, he knew, but he couldn't stand to be in the Three Broomsticks another second, especially with Ron just a few tables away... He'd barely been able to resist giving him a good thwack on the back of his head. Burying his hands in the pocket of his jacket, he trudged up the street. Snow had just began to fall again and it was a long trek back to Hogwarts. He didn't want to get caught in a blizzard.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts when, as he was turning the corner, something large collided with him from behind, sending him sprawling across the street. It landed on top of him with a thud, nearly knocking the wind from his lungs. It took Harry a few seconds to gather himself, and just a few seconds more to realize that the thing on top of him wasn't a thing, but a person, as indicated by the groan that came from over his head and the shifting of limbs above him. Face flushed, Harry stayed perfectly still, not knowing exactly what to do in his situation. He hadn't heard anyone coming from behind him; hopefully it wasn't another student, or- God forbid- a professor...

"What the hell..." The person said. A man's voice. Harry swallowed thickly as whoever it was sat up, still atop him, straddling his legs. He could feel a hand on his calve, groping curiously. Harry was petrified, yes, but not stupid; he'd been caught. With a shaking hand, he pulled the hood of the cloak from his head, the sides of the garment falling to reveal his torso as he propped himself up on his elbows, chancing a glance back. His chest tightened.

Diggory. Cedric Diggory.

The Hufflepuff looked just as shocked as Harry did, brows furrowed as he took in the bizarre sight of the half invisible boy before him. "Potter? What're you- Why are you-"

"I-I'll explain! Just, er, can you please get off my legs?" Harry managed to say, gesturing awkwardly to his restrained limbs. "You're kinda heavy." Cedric obliged, not taking his eyes off Harry as he stood to loom over him. Harry's face was hot with embarrassment as he shifted over to lean back on his arms, legs bent slightly as his cloak fell away to fully reveal him.

"Why were you wearing that thing? You scared me half to death," Cedric asked, looking both amused and puzzled. Harry just wanted to curl up and die, he was too embarrassed. How was he supposed to explain this? He sat up a little straighter, glancing up at Cedric before averting his eyes.

"Um. I wasn't up to anything bad. Honest, I just didn't want- er-" He paused.

"Didn't want what?" The other boy pried.

"For anyone to see me, obviously!" Harry couldn't help from blurting this. "If that article had been about you, you'd be hiding under this stupid thing to!" He pushed himself to his feet, the cloak hanging over his arm. He met Cedric's eyes both fiercely and apprehensively. "I haven't been able to take one step out of the common room without having the entire thing quoted at me.

Cedric looked slightly stunned at Harry's outburst. "I told the other Hufflepuffs to lay off you. If I'd realized how much people were going at you I'd've said something. I'm a prefect and all-"

This, for some reason, made Harry's blood boil. "Look, Cedric, just save it. I don't need your pity, or anyone else's. Besides, you've already made it clear that you believe the Prophet over me. Don't try to pretend you don't." Harry didn't know why he was going off at Cedric so harshly. He was, after all, the first person in days to say anything remotely nice to him, besides Hermione. Still, Harry abhorred the idea of Cedric pitying him, looking down on him like he was a 'little boy,' as Fleur Delacour had put it. He already felt inferior enough. With a huff Harry turned, glancing back to his bewildered looking upperclassman. "I'll see you soon, I suppose." He said, turning to continue up the path, snow catching in his curls of hair.

Cedric looked on at his departing underclassman, worrying at his bottom lip.

/

Harry tumbled through the portrait hole, swinging it shut forcefully, before stalking up the winding staircase to his dormitory. The room was mercifully empty. He kicked off his snow-caked boots and tore off his coat, throwing it, along with the invisibility cloak, into his battered trunk and climbing onto his bed, laying on his back above the thick covers. He stared up at the soft red canopy of his four-poster before rolling onto his side to look out the arched window of the small room. Snow fell plentifully, wind rattling the glass panes. He found himself thinking back to Cedric...

He felt another twinge of guilt in his chest. He really needed to stop jumping down the throats of the only people on his side... Not that he needed Cedric's pity. Harry screwed his eyes shut, burying his face in his pillow with a frustrated sigh.

Cedric was everything Harry wasn't. Tall, handsome, charismatic, a remarkable student... He was incredibly popular, too, with nearly every girl in the school pining after him. 'Strong and silent,' Katie Bell had said, to Angelina and Alicia's agreement. He was handsome... Or, at least, that was what the girls thought. Not Harry, of course. The only feeling Harry could ever muster when he thought of Cedric was inferiority...

He glanced at the clock on his bedside table. Half past seven. Nearly dinner. Harry reluctantly rolled off of his bed, pulling on his trainers. He needed to find Hermione... and stop thinking about Cedric.

/

"Diffindo!"

Cedric's bag split. Parchment, quills, and textbooks spilled out onto the ground. Several bottles of ink smashed.

"Don't bother," Cedric said in an exasperated voice as his friends bent down to help him. "Tell Flitwick I'm coming, go on..."

This was exactly what Harry had been hoping for. Once Cedric's fellow Hufflepuffs had all disappeared into their classroom he rushed forward, kneeling down to help Cedric. The older boy didn't look up.

"Oh, thanks," Cedric said, tucking an ink-spattered copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration under his arm. "My bag just tore. Brand new and all..."

"Cedric, it's dragons. The first task is dragons," Harry said urgently, talking hurriedly in case Flitwick came out to see where Cedric had gone.

His upperclassman's head snapped up then, eyes widening a bit at the sight of Harry. "Har- What?" He said, mouth falling open slightly.

"Dragons," Harry whispered, "four of them, one for each of us. We've got to get past them."

Cedric stared at him. Harry saw some of the panic he'd been feeling since Saturday night flicker in Cedric's storm-colored eyes.

"Are you sure?" He finally asked in a hushed voice.

"Dead sure. I saw them."

"How? We aren't supposed to know-"

"Never mind it," Harry said quickly — he knew Hagrid would be in a boatload of trouble if anyone found out. "But I'm not the only one who knows. Krum and Delacour will know by now — Karkaroff and Maxime saw the dragons too."

Cedric stood up, arms full of textbooks and scraps of parchment, his ripped bag hanging from his shoulder. He stared at Harry with a puzzled, almost suspicious look in his eyes.

"Why are you telling me?" He asked, clearly dubious. "Just yesterday you were ready to rip my head off."

Harry looked at Cedric in disbelief, face heating slightly at the memory of their encounter. He managed to open his mouth and respond. "Well... it's just fair, isn't it? We're all on even footing now, aren't we?" He was sure that Cedric wouldn't be asking that if he'd seen the dragons himself. "Um, also, I'm sorry about yesterday. I- Uh. I shouldn't've snapped at you, you didn't deserve that. I've just been-" He'd been about to say 'nervous' but he snapped his mouth shut, face growing hotter. He didn't need Cedric knowing that.

Cedric still looked puzzled. Suspicious, even... But, if Harry hadn't known any better, he would've sworn he'd seen something soften in the older boy's eyes. "Harry, it's-"

Whatever Cedric had been about to say was cut off by a familiar clunking sound approaching from behind Harry. He turned to see Mad-Eye Moody emerging from a nearby-classroom, his good eye fixed on Harry.

"Come with me, Potter," he growled. "Diggory, off you go."

/

Harry clambered through the portrait hole, swinging it shut before rushing down the steps of Gryffindor Tower, pulling a sweatshirt over his head as he made his descent . The first task was finally over, thank God, and he still had all of his limbs attached. He and Ron had made up, much to Hermione's relief, and the Gryffindor common room was playing host to an uproarious celebration of Harry's victory. Fred and George had been kind enough to make a diversion for Harry, one that involved a copious amount of explosives and an unsuspecting Seamus, so that he could slip out of the common room unnoticed. Harry had had enough action for one day... or lifetime. He was still coming down from the adrenaline rush he'd experienced in the arena.

He wandered aimlessly through the deserted corridors of the castle, keeping lookout for Mrs. Norris' lamp-like eyes, seeing as it was past . He hadn't been able to grab his cloak, so he was just going to have to do things the old fashioned way, sticking to the shadows and treading lightly. Filch wasn't known to be tolerant of curfew breakers.

Moonlight poured in through the arched windows lining the hallway. Harry looked through them onto the lake, watching Durmstrag's ship being rocked by the harsh winter's winds. At that moment, he felt immensely thankful for Hogwarts' thick walls and roaring fires...

And then he saw Cedric.

At first he was dubious of whether the student emerging from the grove of trees was Cedric, but his suspicion was allayed by the Hufflepuff scarf wrapped around his neck and his waves of sandy blonde hair. Normally, this sight wouldn't be enough to intrigue Harry, but he found himself rooted to the spot when someone else emerged from the patch of forest — a girl. A girl with glossy black hair and a blue and bronze scarf draped over her shoulders.

Cho Chang, her fingers entwined with the Hufflepuff, a small smile on her face.

Harry felt his face heat up— he knew this wasn't any of his business, and that he should keep walking; but he couldn't bring himself to do such, his chest tightening with indiscernible emotion. His fingers tightened on the windowsill as he watched Cedric's lips move inaudibly. Watched Cho laugh and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Watched Cedric stroke a finger across her chin — her face redden — their lips draw closer —

He tore his eyes away, cheeks burning, fingers trembling. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself not to look back, knowing no good would come of it. He knew what was happening, why did he need to further torment himself by observing it? And why did he need to feel tormented, anyway? It wasn't as if Cho was his girlfriend. He'd never even told her, or anyone, of his feelings for her. She could kiss whoever she wanted. Even if Harry would prefer she not...

But why did it have to be Cedric Diggory?

...And why did the fact that it was him make it so much worse?

/

A/N: This is a sneak peak of my story. I will begin posting chapters weekly on September thirty-first. This is the first chapter of what will be a story spanning the entirety of GoF, with multiple sequels.

I thank you for your patience. :)