Nineteen:
"I hope you don't plan to stay up there all day, Cedric!" called out his father from somewhere below him.
"Course not!" replied Cedric, from his position at the top of an old, but rather-climbable maple tree. "Just wondering what's taking them so long."
"Arthur's got quite a few youngsters to wrangle, it's no surprise that they may have been a bit delayed."
Cedric had to concede to his father's point, but he would not be happy if they ended up making Harry late for the portkey.
"I think I see them!" he said, catching sight of a few heads of orange hair in the distance.
As his father moved forward to greet them, Cedric jumped down from the tree, landing just in front of the Weasley twins, startling the whole group.
And there he saw him, Harry Potter standing just a few meters before him, green eyes wide in surprise from Cedric's spontaneous entrance.
Being this close to his greatest fixation was just as intoxicating as it was the last time. However, he'd grown since that awful Christmas morning and now had far better control over his emotional displays. He would not embarrass himself in front of Harry again.
"Hi." he intoned politely, ignoring the twin's and Harry's sidekick's glare along with the amorous gazes from the young ladies. While he had a hard time keeping his eyes off of Harry, he made certain never to stare for too long at a time.
"Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked.
"Not too bad," said Mr. Weasley. "We live just on the other side of the village there, you know. You?"
"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still... not complaining. Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons - and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, it looks like I got off easy." Amos peered around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, and the two girls. "All these yours, Arthur?"
"Oh no, only the redheads," said Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione, a friend of Ron's - and Harry, another friend -"
"Merlin's beard," said his father, his eyes widening. "Harry? As in Harry Potter?" Cedric had to stop himself from hexing his father or doing something similarly drastic and violent.
"Er- yeah," said Harry, with a becoming blush, ducking his head. He smoothed his thick, black bangs down, a motion Cedric had observed a few times when Harry was uncomfortable.
"Ced's talked about you, of course," said his father, either not noticing or completely ignoring the glare Cedric was directing at him. "Told us all about playing against you last year... I said to him, I said - Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will. You beat Harry Potter!"
"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered, feeling his nails biting into his palms. He was firmly regretting telling his father anything about that damned match. He hadn't even been the one to bring it up. His father had apparently heard the news from one of his coworkers and couldn't resist interrogating Cedric about it. "I told you... it was an accident."
"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roared his genially, slapping Cedric on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman... but the best man won, I'm sure Harry would say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to-"
"Enough." snapped Cedric, his patience having run dry. Every set of eyes snapped to him, and he reeled in his temper, unclenching his fists and smiling congenially. "We're going to be late to the portkey if we don't hurry."
"Quite right." agreed Arthur Weasley after a moment's silence, dragging his eyes away from Cedric to glance at his pocket watch. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"
Amos cleared his throat, awkwardly pulling at the muggle clothing he was wearing. "No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets."
"Well, the portkey is a minute off." intoned Mr. Weasley. "We'd better get ready."
"Portkey?" questioned Harry quietly.
Cedric jumped at the chance to speak to the boy, cutting his know-it-all friend off before she could get a word in.
"Never used a portkey, H- Potter?" he asked, politely, stepping closer to the boy. As soon as he was in range he took a quiet, but deep breath, reveling in the boy's sweet scent.
He motioned to the old boot that was serving as their portkey just a ways off. "It's quite simple, you just have to touch it at the proper time, just a finger will do."
Harry smiled back at him, nodding. If only Cedric had a camera to capture it.
With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the nine of them crowded around the old boot held out by his father. Cedric made certain to get a spot next to Harry basking in the line of warmth against him. If he closed his eyes he could easily imagine that it was just he and Harry pressed up against each other. He wished the moment would never end. Despite this, he reached out, placing a pinky against the boot.
After a moment, he felt that tell-tale hook behind his navel, and allowed himself to be jerked forward by the portkey, fighting to keep his balance when his feet slammed against the ground. Looking to his right, he saw Harry tumbling backwards. Quick as a snake he reached out, catching the boy before he could hit the dirt, with an arm around his waist.
He was so close. It was surely the most wonderful thing he'd ever felt. Harry Potter in his arms, his hands on Harry Potter's waist. His nose buried in Harry Potter's thick, messy curls. He inhaled quickly and deeply, pretending to pant from exertion rather than excitement.
The boy looked up, big green eyes meeting his own grey. Cedric tried his best to position his face into something normal. They were practically nose-to-nose and a bunch of insane, monstrous urges threatened to overtake him.
'I could disapparate right now.' he thought maniacally. 'I could take him far, far away with just a flick of my wand. All to myself.'
Before he could do such a thing, Harry stepped back, leaving Cedric's arms. He tried not to mourn the loss.
"Thanks, Cedric."
Never before had Cedric felt such a strong reaction to the sound of his name. It was sweeter than he ever could have imagined, the sound of those two syllables on Harry's lips. He had to grit his teeth just to prevent himself from begging the boy to repeat it.
"My pleasure." he replied with the greatest sincerity.
As they began to follow the group, presumably walking toward the camp, he spoke again. "You know I- I wanted to apologize about that match, Harry. It wasn't fair and if it hadn't been fo-"
Harry interrupted him, directing another of those soft smiles at him. If Cedric had been one for dramatics he would have swooned. "There's no need. Both Oliver and your friend... Jonathan was it- already apologized on your behalf. But, even still, there's nothing to apologize for, you won fair-and-square."
"I didn't." Cedric insisted, reveling in the chance to place his hand on Harry's arm, thankful the boy was wearing a short-sleeved shirt. His skin was as soft as he imagined it would be.
"If it hadn't been for the Dementors you certainly would have won. You're the best seeker in the school, probably the best Hogwarts has ever seen!"
Harry laughed and Cedric practically melted at the sight, finding the way he covered his mouth with one of his small hands the most endearing thing in the world.
"Certainly not! I'm flattered you think so, but I'm not that good. Besides, I could hardly see that whole match. If I hadn't stuck so close to your tail I wouldn't have ever even spotted the snitch. I'm honestly rather impressed you were able to see through all that rain, Diggory."
Not allowing himself the time to dwell on the fact that Harry had been impressed with him, he jumped at the opportunity that just presented itself. "Then perhaps a seeker's match, hmm? When we get back to Hogwarts I mean. Just you and me. To settle the score and all."
"You're on." Harry grinned back. "I'll hold you to it." he said before walking off to catch up with his two sidekicks.
Containing the impulse to holler in joy, Cedric fell into step next to his father, allowing the grin to stay on his face for once.
Never one to shy from luxury, his father had gone all out on their tent. Cedric thought the parlor room, and the enormous fireplace were a bit excessive, especially considering his father was far too busy helping with the event proceedings to properly enjoy them.
Cedric spent the majority of his time before the game milling around the camp grounds, finding great amusement in the amount of people completely ignoring the statute of secrecy while Ministry officials scrambled to keep them in check.
He did his best to focus on the many sights to see from the many different international witches and wizards, for if he allowed his mind to wander at all, he would suddenly find himself searching desperately for Harry Potter.
He had to keep a cool head and work gradually, it wouldn't do to overwhelm the boy with his devotion.
By the time the bell signifying the beginning of the game rang, he'd already purchased two pairs of Omnioculars for himself and his father as well as a bag of popcorn and managed to somehow find his father in the endless crowd of people.
"There you are, Ced'!" exclaimed his father jollily, clapping an unwanted hand onto his son's shoulder. "Best be off to find our seats, shall we?"
To Cedric's great disappointment he was unable to get a seat next to Harry. In fact he wasn't even within three seats of Harry. He suspected this had largely to do with the many glares that the three youngest Weasley boys had been directing at him throughout the day, especially if the smug smirks they sent him when he finally sat down in between his father and a nervous-looking house-elf was any indication.
Even so, he was just grateful that he was close enough to Harry to clearly see him react to the game.
He watched as their seating box began to fill, annoyed but unsurprised when the Malfoys filed in alongside the Minister. He hoped they would not be too much of a bother.
Eventually Ludo Bagman charged into the box, looking far more excited than Cedric really thought was appropriate for a man his age. "Everyone ready?" he exclaimed loudly. "Minister- ready to go?"
"Ready when you are, Ludo," replied Fudge patiently.
Bagman whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said "Sonorus!" then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over everyone, booming into every corner of the stands.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"
The spectators screamed and clapped and the Bulgarian National Mascots were introduced, though Cedric only had eyes for Harry, intent on the boy's reaction.
"Ah, yes, the veela." his father commented offhandedly.
Cedric glanced back at the field and sure enough a hundred or so Veela were now gliding out onto the field, ensnaring the audience with their beautiful dance. He spared only a short moment to admire their beauty before turning his eyes back to Harry.
He was disappointed (why he was disappointed he did not know and did not really want to contemplate it) to see that the boy was staring unwaveringly down at the magical beings, a slack-jawed look on his lovely face. Though admittedly, he seemed much better off than some of the other young men in the box, Malfoy Jr had to be actively held back by his mother for fear that he'd throw himself off the balcony while under the Veela's thrall.
He was grateful when Ireland's mascots appeared and the Veela finally left. Harry's wondrous reaction to the leprechauns warmed his heart.
He took out his Omnioculars.
Cedric, of course, had no intention of recording the game. As stated previously he had very little interest in Quidditch when he (or Harry) was not participating, except for educational purposes. And he was certainly not delusional enough to think he could attempt any of Krum's death-defying moves without ending up in traction.
No, the reason he had purchased the Omnioculars was the same reason he wanted to go to the game at all. To make memories with Harry. Sure, a pensive would work much better, but they were both rare and expensive. Until he could find one, he would have to settle for the next best thing.
The game went by far faster than Cedric would have liked. Though if asked he hardly would have been able to tell anyone what happened. He could however expound endlessly about the range of emotion Harry displayed throughout the match. The way his eyes would widen when intent on a play, the way he'd bounce in his seat when something thrilling happened, the way he'd rear back and bite his lip when someone made a risky move. Cedric was on cloud nine from just being able to witness it all. What was even better was that he now had a recording of it.
-0v0-
As he made his way back to the tent he clutched his Omnioculars close to his chest, knowing without a doubt that he would treasure the memories he made today forever.
Barty Crouch Jr watched his former allies with disgust from underneath his invisibility cloak. The imbeciles were capable enough to band together and cause senseless destruction at an international event, yet none of them could summon the willpower necessary to bring Their Lord back?
Turncoats, the lot of them.
He glanced back up to where they were now spinning a little muggle girl rapidly in the air and sighed, rolling his eyes. What a waste of time. Just kill the muggles and be done with it.
For the fuck of it, he set the nearest tent aflame. It did little to settle his frustration. He shot a Bombarda at a passing stampede of people, taking pleasure in the fear and confusion in their eyes. It was as the flock scattered that he saw him, the boy he'd been seated next to during the Quidditch match. The crazy one.
A kindred spirit, he liked to think.
Throughout the match Barty had watched him. Not closely, mind, it had been quite a thrilling game. But, after working alongside the other Death Eaters (and looking in the mirror daily) he could definitively say he'd seen enough crazy in his life to easily identify it. He wasn't sure exactly what it was that made it so apparent. The eyes? Maybe the grin? He couldn't say for certain. But, either way it was obvious.
It was very clear that the young man (for the sake of his own amusement, Barty would think of him as 'Crazy Lad' from now on) had a rather unhealthy fixation with Potter and judging by the way he was scanning the crowds, he was likely looking for the boy-wonder. Barty edged closer.
"Head for the treeline!" ordered a man who seemed to be holding Crazy Lad in a firm grip. Likely his father. "There should be an emergency portkey just on the other side of the woods. A crumpled up newspaper. The activation word is 'birdfeed.' Got it? I must help the Ministry deal with this. I'll join you as soon as I can."
Crazy Lad nodded, and began to jog towards the treeline, a determined expression on his face. Barty was fairly sure where he was headed, and it wasn't to any portkey. With a grin, he followed, a mischievous plan already forming in his mind.
It took very little time at all for Crazy Lad to find Potter and his two little friends at the center of a clearing in the forest. Unsurprising considering how ruthlessly he searched, entirely willing to push and kick people out of his way, even stopping to shake down a few folks for Potter's whereabouts.
What was surprising, was that instead of running straight to Potter like Barty had expected him to do, he hung back, clinging to a tree and staring uncertainly towards the three young teens, clearly debating what to do.
Barty shrugged and stepped past him, walking right up to Potter. A bit too close, in fact, since the boy startled and turned, calling out a cautious, "Hello?"
He glanced over his shoulder and grinned when he saw the slightest flicker of Crazy Lad's cloak from behind a tree.
"Who's there?" called Potter, tone sharper this time.
He lifted the wand he'd stolen from Potter's pocket earlier and shouted "MORSMORDRE!" darting away as soon as the spell left his lips.
Once he was a reasonable distance away he whispered "Winky?"
The usually deafening bang of a house-elf's apparition was practically indistinguishable from the amount of screaming all around them caused by the sight of the Dark Mark.
"Sorry about this." he said, the moment the elf appeared, surprised to find himself genuinely a bit apologetic. Even still he stunned her and laid Potter's wand right next to her. "If anyone asks, you're not to tell them who casted that spell and stunned you. That's an order."
With that he turned back to the clearing just in time to watch what happened next.
A series of popping noises announced the arrival of at least twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding the three children.
Potter whirled around and immediately registered the many wands pointed in his direction.
"DUCK!" he yelled, slamming to the ground. His voice chorused with Crazy Lad's who had finally vacated his hiding spot to shout "PROTEGO!" managing to intercept a few of the Stupefies directed towards the kids.
"Stop!" yelled a man who Barty was fairly certain was a Weasley. "STOP! That's my son!"
"Cedric?" said the man from earlier that Barty had assumed as Crazy Lad's father. "What are you doing here? I told you to get to the portkey!"
The boy now identified as Cedric widened his eyes as if it should have been obvious. "I couldn't leave Harry here!" he hissed, motioning with the wand towards the Dark Mark. "Clearly this is the work of Death Eaters!"
His father seemed very confused by this explanation and honestly Barty felt the same. Too much was going on at once. While Crazy Lad had been yelling about Potter the other Ministry officials had taken to questioning boy-wonder in question. Why, Barty had no clue, they couldn't possibly think Potter casted the Dark Mark could they?
As the Ministry workers began to approach where Barty was hidden under his invisibility cloak, he slowly backed further into the forest, disapparating when he was a safe enough distance away.
As he disappeared he wondered if he could make use of this Cedric-kid for his plans at Hogwarts.
A/N: I apologize if any of you found this chapter confusing. I struggled while writing it.