Title: Snapshots
Summary: A quick look into how fourth year might have gone. Slash.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 1, 753
Hogwarts Fourth Year
Harry lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been running. He was drenched with sweat and the covers were tangled in his leg more off the bed than on it. He had awoken from the nightmare with his hands pressed over his scar. It was burning.
The dream came back to him haltingly. There was a dim picture of a darkened room…a massive snake on the hearth rug…Wormtail's sniveling…a cold high voice that sent shivers down his spine – Voldemort.
He sat up and the rickety bed rattled beneath him. He was about to get up, to write a letter to Dumbledore or Sirius or somebody about the vivid dream, when his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wardrobe caught his eye. A skinny boy of fourteen looked back at him, his bright green eyes peering out under his untidy black hair.
What had caught his eye drew him over to the mirror for a thorough examination. His lightning-bolt scar, which always appeared almost fresh, was now startling red against his skin. It looked new – too new. Something was wrong.
He hurried to his desk to begin his letters.
The two figures approached, their features shadowed as the bright, morning sun rose behind them. As they drew closer, Harry saw Mr. Weasley shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand. It was the second figure that drew Harry attention though. An extremely handsome boy of around seventeen, the teenager was tall and muscled, boasting almost curly chestnut hair and an honest face. He looked familiar but Harry couldn't quite place him.
"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr. Weasley. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric."
Of course – Cedric Diggory. He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts. Harry had flown against him several times but it was hard to remember the faces of the other players when he was playing Quidditch. Even so, Harry was surprised he had forgotten someone as striking as Cedric.
"Hello," said Cedric, looking around at them all.
Everybody said hi back, even Fred and George who Harry remembered were quite sore about loosing against Hufflepuff in the first Quidditch match of the previous year. It had been a bad game, one in which was interrupted by dementors and almost caused Harry to loose his life falling several hundred feet off his broom. He'd never blamed Hufflepuff for taking the win, especially since they had offered a rematch only for Madame Hooch to reject the idea.
His eyes met Cedric's gaze. The older Seeker nodded at him, an almost their smile on his lips. Something in Harry fluttered.
And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out –
"Harry Potter!"
Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames, some how very different than they had appeared before their names had come out of the Goblet.
Harry was oddly numb as he approached. He didn't hear the question Fleur asked him or even notice the arrival of Dumbledore and the rest of the headmasters and officials until Ludo Bagman took him by the arm and told him how 'extraordinary' he was.
The meeting passed in a blur. It was like Harry was watching it all happen from outside his body. He knew he should be scared/terrified/angry but it was as if a different person was experiencing those things. Inside he was strangely empty.
Finally it was over. He was surprised to see Cedric looking at him as they left and was even more surprised when the older teen came over.
The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low. For a moment, Harry feared the Cedric was going to coming over to hit him but then he saw the other boy's kind face and knew it wasn't so.
"So," said Cedric, with a slight smile that shocked Harry more than anything tonight. "We're playing against each other again!"
Harry was at a loss for words. The inside of his head seemed to be in complete disarray, as though his brain had been ransacked. "I s'pose," he finally managed to say.
Cedric glanced over at him. As they reached the entrance to the Hall he stopped, grabbing Harry's arm. Harry almost protested until he saw the seriousness in Cedric's eyes.
"Look, Harry," the Hufflepuff said. "I don't know whether you put your name in the Goblet or whether that stuff Moody was staying is true – frankly, it doesn't matter. You're three years behind the rest of us in a competition that is deadly enough already. What I mean to say is, I'll do what ever I can to help."
Harry couldn't believe it. "Why? Don't you want to win? Aren't you angry?"
Cedric laughed. "Of course I want to win, but I'd rather see you alive than win a trophy." He let go of Harry's arm but moved even closer. Harry could smell honey and cinnamon. Then he leaned over, and Harry could feel Cedric's breath warm against his ear.
"Besides, you are far too cute for me to be angry at."
"How did you do it, Harry?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Don't speak to me."
"Piss off."
Hidden beneath the Cloak. Breathing hard. They couldn't expect – there was no way –
"Hagrid - is that a dragon?"
"Cedric, the first task it's -"
"-you're kidding, a -"
"-I know…Hagrid told me-"
"-Damn it-"
"Harry, you need to study!"
"How am I supposed to defeat a dragon Hermione? It's a dragon!"
"Play to your strengths, boy."
"Accio!"
Apologetic amber eyes. They're standing in the courtyard, it's sunny but Harry would give anything to be outside and out of view.
POTTER STINKS
"I'm sorry about the pins, Harry. I tried to tell them to stop but they won't listen to me."
SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY
Harry just nods.
"Accio!"
Dear Snuffles,
I had that dream again. My scar…
"ACCIO!"
The tent is massive but Harry feels like he has no air to breath. A dragon. He was going to fight a dragon.
They gathered around the bag. The Chinese Fireboldt. The Welsh Green. The Romanian Ridgeback.
The Hungarian Horntail.
Survival.
"I'm sorry, Harry."
"Me too, Ron."
"You haven't figured out the egg yet, have you? Thought so. Meet me in the prefects' bathroom tomorrow at midnight. Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password's 'pine fresh.' Don't forget the egg."
The bathwater was warm, perfect, but it seemed almost cool against the ferocity of Harry's blush. The air smelled like flowers and was heavy with steam. At the bottom of the tub, forgotten, lay the open egg still singing its eerie song.
Cedric was close. So close. Too close. Not close enough. His eyes were burning with something strange and thrilling. He was coming closer. Harry backed up.
The cool edge of the tub met his skin. Cedric kept approaching. Two feet. One. A few inches.
"Let me help you," said Cedric, eyes burning.
Harry closed the distance.
"Seriously, Harry, you need to concentrate."
"Yeah, mate, you seem kind of out of it."
"I'm fine, guys."
"Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is helping Harry Potter sir!"
The Second Task.
"Pine fresh."
"Harry! I got your note. What – mmf!"
"Hermione, I can only study so much. I'm drowning in all of these books."
"But Harry, you have to be prepared!"
"Pine fresh."
"It's going to be a maze, Harry. I've looked up at least five different spells that should help you navigate…."
A look over dinner. Excuses. Hellos. A closet.
"Try again, Harry. Once more. Bombarda."
"-you're so beautiful. Merlin, Harry you-"
"Jeez, Harry, you're in the library more than Hermione is!"
"Tomorrow's the day. You ready?"
"Stop talking and kiss me already."
The hedges were high, dark, and daunting. Harry had only seconds to glance back at Cedric before he lost sight. He turned his gaze ahead – he could do this.
"Harry!"
"Cedric!"
They were both beat up, bleeding, and sweating profusely. Harry couldn't help but think he'd never see a better sight.
Conscious of the crowd, they came together. Harry could see his own desire to snog the life out of Cedric reflected back in him in Cedric's gaze. The sooner this tournament was over, the better. The prefect bathroom called to them – their secret hideaway from the world. Harry couldn't wait until it was just he and Cedric again, no crowd, nothing by the warm water and stream and smell of honey and cinnamon.
"We'll take it together."
"One…"
"Two…"
"Three -!"
Spinning suddenly. Crashing to the ground. Pain.
Harry heard a groan beside him. Looking around and saw Cedric also struggling to stand. Green met amber.
"You think this is part of the task?"
"Something's not right, we should go."
"I think -"
"KILL THE SPARE!"
Wormtail. Harry was going to kill him. Harry was going to -
Wormtail was holding something. Cedric was gone and Wormtail was holding something and Harry's scar was burning and his glasses were gone but Wormtail was holding something…
nonononononononononononoNoNO
Voldemort was here. Voldemort was here but Cedric wasn't. Wormtail and Voldemort were alive but Cedric wasn't. Death Eaters were appearing around the graveyard. Cedric wasn't here.
He was released. Wormtail made to give him his wand but -
He didn't need it. Magic everywhere. Exploding. Attacking. Coming from Harry.
It was hot. Too hot. Not hot enough. They deserved to burn. To die. To -
NO!
Honey and cinnamon. A scent that was there but not. Warm hands touched his face – Cedric's hands.
"It's okay, Harry. It's going to be okay. Calm down. It's finished."
Bodies unmoving. Like clothed lumps on the ground. Voldemort – maybe. There were robes but…
The hands returned. Cedric.
"Stay strong, my love, you've got to hold on…"
The phantom feeling of Cedric's lips on his forehead.
BOY-WHO-LIVES DEFEATS YOU-KNOW-WHO!