Just when I thought the situation with that fucked up sex demon and Harry couldn't get any worse; I was proven completely wrong. Wouldn't you know it, I just so happen to walk in on them just as Cedric puts the knife to Harrys' skin. "Are you insane?" I'm screaming already. I'll be lucky to pull out of this fiasco alive. I know Cedric well enough to know that he never gets irritated at his concubines: they never do anything wrong. It's all me.

"Why, yes. Yes I am. But you already knew that. Must I – thrust – the point home?" And at that he drops the knife into Harrys' side and enters him. I know that Harry is both unconscious and ill-prepared. This is, after all, Cedric Diggory. I highly doubt that Cedric prepares Harry at all anymore.

I wait until he finishes. He doesn't look at me. He merely pulls out, not one bit flaccid, and revives Harry. The hundreds of red lashes on the black haired boys back, now exposed to me, is how I am certain Cedric's been whipping the poor boy for hours. The boy is so covered in blood, that I know is his own, that I am sure Cedric is about to spell it all into a tub so he can bathe in it. Cedric loves literal blood baths. They calm him and he claims the blood of Harry is the best of all the blood he's ever had. Cedric almost sounds like he might care for Harry.

That's a fucking lie.

To my surprise Cedric does not collect Harrys' blood. He just lets Harry dress himself and leave. When Cedric turns to me, and I see his eyes, I know my life is forfeit.