After that day, Harry hardly saw Cedric. Every now and then when they would pass each other in the hall and Cedric would wave, but Harry would not. He was still angry and embarrassed about the entire situation. He knew that Cedric was only trying to help…but it was just…borderline sickening
The school, you could tell, was eager to see who would and who would not be fitting to be a triwizard champion. Students would try to break through the boundaries surrounding the goblet of fire – Dumbledore had declared that you have to be of age to perform – but none could conquer Dumbledore's tricky traps. A fine example of breaking any rules, and the punishment that follows, was the Weasley twins.
Half of the school had been there when Cedric Diggory entered his name into the goblet. It was raining outside, and many of the students had fled to where the very item stood on display. As Cedric entered the room, he glanced, as usual, toward where Harry sat in between Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. His friends cheered as they threw him into the circle where every wizard boy's deepest dreams and fears lie. Oddly enough, to Harry's disbelief, after Cedric put his name into the goblet, he didn't turn around and hug his friends, he didn't run away, he didn't react at all to the event itself. Instead, Harry looked up to find that Cedric looked directly into his eyes. The sizzling paper hadn't even stopped burning before his gaze fell. Harry looked around, mortified, to see that Cedric's friends hadn't missed the glance. What was worse, they didn't seem surprised. They just laughed a bit and yelled at him for not turning to leap into their arms.
Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably and glanced down at his friends. Neither of them had seemed to notice what had just happened. Cedric was already walking away when he lifted his head once more. He rolled his eyes with impatience, and turned to watch Hermione begrudgingly teaching Ron key points of divination. That was the last time he saw Cedric until the night of the name reveal.
The Great Hall was dark, darker than it usually was. The ceiling had no enchantments, no stars or clouds, just grey plaster – it made Harry almost uncomfortable. Dumbledore took the light from the lamps hanging from the grey walls; and the goblet was now ablaze. Harry only half watched the goblet, for it was obvious who would be in the running for eternal glory. He sat, avoiding the bickering of his two friends, and thought of life outside of Hogwarts.
For once in his life, it was almost like he had family again. Sirius was out there, somewhere, on the run, Harry thought guiltily. There was some sort of strange comfort in knowing that there was someone left who had ties to Harry's family. The word itself seemed to be burning into his vision when Harry closed his eyes. There, in the blackness of his imagination, like fire, the word burned: family. He couldn't define it; he couldn't feel it. The word itself was simply alive in his mind. He decided to focus on it, and realized that there was another image in his mind: a pair of dark eyes.
His first instinct was Voldemort. It was often the snake eyes haunting him. But then suddenly, he felt warmth, not fear, or anxiousness. The eyes were an iced blue, burning as intensely as the flames: family. Then the word melted away and the eyes grew more personal, and as Harry looked deeper into his subconscious, the eyes turned cold, empty, lifeless. And then they were gone.
He opened his eyes and saw that the entire great hall had grown sickeningly silent…and all eyes were upon him. Had he said something? That's when he heard it: Albus Dumbledore, still in front of the goblet, shouting his name… stricken with anger and impatience. Harry was so confused. They definitely had reason to be staring; Dumbledore had never looked so angry…that was anger, wasn't it? He felt Hermione's cold hands push against him, the decision to get up impenetrable. He felt nothing as he approached the old man holding warm parchment between his fingers.
It was all a blur. The faces were all glaring, hot and angry upon his face, but the only clear thing was what was written on the little torn parchment that he felt shoved into his palms. He looked down, confused and dazed. It was still warm, like the fire still burning in the back of his mind, and the words were there. In his own handwriting, burned with truth, the words were engraved: Harry Potter.
He expected to have Dumbledore laugh in his face. He expected the crumpled curse he held in his palm to self destruct, and for the room to break out in giggles. Just kidding, they would tell him. But then, to Harry's deepest horror, his headmaster nearly lifted his arm and pointed toward the back room – the same place the other three champions had followed. He couldn't honestly be expected to compete, could he? This was sick joke, and Harry wasn't one for humor. His legs were still numb as he passed the disgusted faces. He could feel the blood draining from his face.
The stairs were dimly lit. Harry stumbled his way down, hands shaking with fear. He was so confused, and to make matters worse, the eyes were still haunting his thoughts. Why had they gone from such beauty to such emptiness? Harry lifted his head a bit and found himself in the dark room, joining the three champions, who had the same confused looks on their faces as the Hogwarts staff had had when Dumbledore called Harry's name. Harry saw the eyes again. The icy glowing eyes were there, before him, and this time he wasn't imagining it.
He knew the eyes looked familiar. He stood, staring into the shimmering eyes of Cedric Diggory, looking worried. Did he actually care about Harry's safety? Or was it Ron's dad that Cedric feared? Harry didn't care to find out as he heard Dumbledore's quick and hard footsteps stumbling just as quickly down the stairway as Harry's had. He didn't care about his dignity anymore. Looking up, he desperately searched Cedric's eyes for an answer. He could feel the plea in his eyes. He thought he saw Cedric move forward an inch or so, his eyes equally desperate, before he felt violent hands pulling him away…the battle had begun.
You can't honestly expect him to compete!
You're not of age! You cheated!
He's a spy. He's lying.
Rules are rules.
Harry could still hear the haunting voices as he made his bed, avoiding the eyes of all the boys in the room. He felt his heavy heart thumping slowly against his chest. He was so overwhelmed…the thought of a life-threatening competition, what Sirius would think when he heard, how terrible this must have looked to his mentor, and those eyes. They were Cedric's. He didn't even want to think about why they might have faded the way they did. He didn't even want to think about that blissful feeling he felt looking directly into them.
Then it started. Behind him, Ron's annoyed voice prepared for attack. The fight, like so much that night, was blurry. Distrust, disbelief; he was being questioned by his best friend. He went to bed feeling empty, the eyes still there, waiting, the moment he greeted his eyelids.
And then suddenly he was warm. He couldn't see anything, just his legs in front of him, torn jeans, the sun warm on his skin. At first, he thought it nonchalant, until he realized he wasn't alone. Looking down ever so slightly more, he found an arm wrapped tightly around him. The breathing he felt beneath him was slow and comforting. He felt himself sigh, a small noise of comfort escaping his lips as he smiled. He felt lips press against his left temple. He looked up into those familiar eyes...
The sound of Ron's groggy voice awoke Harry. It was early and cold, the start of a new term. Harry looked around, confused and startled, reaching for his glasses. He couldn't stop his racing heartbeat, his queasy stomach, and his confused eyes, searching for something. He was back in his dorm and out of the sunshine... The cold cement floor shocked him out of his grogginess as he raced toward the bathroom for a splash of cold water.
He could still taste Cedric Diggory's dreamlike lips.
Alrighty, everyone, that's the end of the third chapter...FINALLY! It took me...oh God, I don't even want to count the months. Forgive me, oh please forgive me for a temporary abandonment. I really have no excuse. But I am determined to continue this story out of respect for the preciousness that is Harry/Cedric. x3 Review, pweez!