Welcome to the Jungle

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or Glee. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Part One: Fifteen

Chapter Thirty-Four: Everybody Hurts

Cho cries herself to sleep, and Harry - with Frankie's help - leaves her to sleep in Seamus' sister's room. Cho's best friend, Marietta - or Mari, to most people - is called to retrieve her, and with word that she's on her way, Harry and Frankie loiter in the hallway until she arrives.

Harry remembers, vividly, the events of Ethan's party earlier that school year, and he's not going to allow for a repeat. Moreover, he needs some time to regain his bearings, because Cho's revelations have left him floundering in a sea of surprise and uncertainty.

What, if anything, does he do with the knowledge that Cho had been pregnant, but had since terminated that pregnancy?

On top of that particular bombshell, there is, also, the knowledge that neither of them - Cho or Cedric - are coping well in the aftermath.

It's understandable, of course - Harry can't imagine what they're going through - but Cedric seems to be self-destructing, and Cho's own grief is blatantly obvious. More so is the knowledge that both of them need help - of the professional, non-alcoholic variety - and given the circumstances, it's not likely either of them are receiving that support.

"Is everything okay?" Frankie asks tentatively. He's a big guy, tall and stocky, and the cautiousness is an odd look on him.

"No," Harry answers honestly, "It's really not."

"You gonna talk about it, or…"

"Not my place."

Frankie nods, unsurprised. He doesn't pry further, and they wait in silence for Marietta to arrive. It's quieter up there, far from the conversations and the music from downstairs.

Harry slumps against the wall, mentally drained by the last hour - by his whole week, really - and ready just to go home. Frankie plays Tetris on his phone, and the minutes creep by with an agonising, mind-numbing slowness.

Eventually, Edgecomb arrives, dressed comfortably in yoga pants and a tank top. She's tall and thin, with dark red hair and a heart-shaped face. She's intimidating though, beautiful, intelligent, and ambitious, with a scathing tongue, and a complete willingness to use it against all of the morons who have the misfortune of crossing her path. ,

Upon sight of her, Harry points wordlessly to the closed door across from him, and she shuffles inside with a nod of gratitude. A few minutes later, she walks out with an insensate Cho against her side, and Harry walks them both to Marietta's car. Cho is guided into the passenger seat, and once the door is closed, Marietta rounds the car to the driver's side.

"Thanks; for taking care of her," Edgecomb addresses Harry. Barring their conversation over the phone earlier, it's perhaps the first time she's spoken to him at all.

Harry shrugs. "It's no problem, really."

"I'll take care of her."

Harry nods. He hadn't expected anything else. "Thanks for picking her up. I'd have asked Summerby to take her home, but…"

But Harry doubts her parents would be particularly enthused to find their intoxicated daughter on their doorstep, and he has no idea whether she'd be welcome there besides. There is no telling whether or not her parents know about the pregnancy and the subsequent abortion, after all, and Harry doesn't want to take any chances.

"It's fine," Marietta answers, "You did the right thing, actually. Her parents are super strict, so…"

Harry nods, reassured. "That's good. I mean, not about her parents, but, you know…"

A brief smile tugs at the corners of Marietta's mouth, and Harry gets the impression she thinks he's an idiot.

He clears his throat, awkward and flustered. "Well, I'd better get back to the party, check on Diggory…"

"Okay," she opens her car door, "Good night, Potter. And thanks, again."

"Night," he answers, but Marietta's already shut her door, and he doubts she hears. He waves, she returns it, and she pulls away from the curb.

Harry, meanwhile, returns inside. The warmth is a welcome relief, but Harry doesn't linger to appreciate it.

Instead, he makes his way outside, where the mingled scent of cigarettes and marijuana permeate the air. It's warm on the patio, courtesy of the outdoor heaters, and tucked away in a corner far from the light that spills out from the house, or even from the tiki torches that bracket the outdoor tiles, Cedric is sprawled out along the outdoor chaise, dead to the world.

In contrast, Ethan is slumped wearily in an adjacent armchair, fiddling with his phone, and stone cold sober. He's a short, stocky dude, with cropped brown hair and shrewd blue eyes, and he's somehow friends with everyone.

It's a little odd as far as WMHS is concerned, because he's a loud and proud member of the AV Club, the Chess Team, and Lima's very small LGBT community, but Harry doesn't care enough to question it.

"Summerby," Harry greets. He drops into the armchair beside Ethan's, and sighs wearily. "Marietta came to pick up Cho. She, ah, broke down in the kitchen."

Ethan throws his head against the back of his chair, groaning. "Damn it."

"She told me what happened," Harry continues. He glances at Cedric, who is still unconscious, and not likely to stir anytime soon, "How's he handling it?"

"How do you think?"

Harry grimaces. "That good, huh?"

There is an ironic, mirthless smile on Ethan's face. "You bet."

"How much did he have to drink?"

"Too much," Ethan grimly replies, "I was worried about alcohol poisoning for a bit, but I think I cut him off in time. He's just sleeping."

Harry takes note of the fact that Cedric's been moved into the recovery position, and is also covered up by a blanket. There's a heater nearby, too, which keeps them warm, and there are a few empty water bottles alongside the (nearly empty) bottle of Jack Daniels and a handful of crumpled beer cans.

"Are you sure?"

"Sure as I can be. That bottle was half empty when Ceddy got his hands on it." He gestures vaguely at the whisky, "I gave him a lot of water between drinks, too. He'll probably have a monster of a hangover tomorrow, but he should be fine, otherwise."

Harry nods his acknowledgement, satisfied, and they both fall silent. It's neither comfortable or uncomfortable, and it is quickly broken by Ethan.

"Why did she tell you? I don't even think she's told Edgecomb."

Harry shrugs, clueless. "Because I was there, I guess. Seamus was playing 'Slide' - you know the one? By the Goo Goo Dolls? - and she just started bawling. It wasn't hard to figure out, given the song. Anyway, I asked, and she just confirmed it. I think she was relieved to tell someone, I don't know. She certainly didn't hesitate to share when I asked, anyway."

"Was it hard to hear?" Ethan asks. His expression is sympathetic.

Harry nods emphatically. "I don't… I don't know what to do."

Ethan shrugs, glances at Cedric, and sighs. "Just be there for them. That's all you can do, really."

Harry nods his acknowledgement, slumps back in his seat, and stares out into the yard. Cedric sleeps on, Ethan surfs the Internet on his phone, and the night passes them by.

As he dwells on all he's learned that night, and as he broods over he and Quinn's current problems, Harry's certain it's one of the longest nights of his life.

Author's Note: Over fifty thousand words. I confess, I'm a little surprised, for a variety of reasons. Hope you've enjoyed. Until next time, -t.