Disclaimer: Nope.
Author's Note: Hello everyone, and thank you all so much for the awesome reviews!
I'm sorry that the first part of the chapter dragged. You're right - I do tend to sometimes go into too much detail about a character's background. However, we'll have to agree to disagree about introducing Phil into the story. Obviously, you didn't know this yet, but he will be relevant to the story. True, I could have introduced him later, and I'll think about things like that in the future.
I'm glad you liked the rest of the chapter, though. The no-magic zones certainly had an enormous amount of impact on Fiona. There'll definitely be more about that later - it's one of the most pivotal things about American wizarding culture.
No, I didn't miss your question about Quidditch, I just forgot to answer it. I'm sorry about that. I won't be talking about Quidditch until later, but since you asked, I'll spoil the answer for you since it won't spoil the rest of the story. Right now, Ravenclaw is winning, with Gryffindor second.
However, the one about Rebecca Hardman and Matthew Banner will be answered in this chapter.
Ooh, a new reviewer! That's incredibly awesome, and thank you for your feedback! I'm really glad you're enjoying the story, and that you're still invested despite the fact that I'm not putting Harry with Ginny. I really do hope you end up liking who I put him with. Thank you for your support!
I was very saddened to hear of the passing of dear Maggie Smith, who played a phenomenal Minerva McGonagall in the Harry Potter movies. Her legacy and memory will live on, and she will never be forgotten. She was truly wonderful.
The next chapter will be from the perspective of Hermione's parents. I'm looking forward to writing about their experience at Hogwarts. They'll be in this chapter too, but since this one's from Harry's perspective, this will focus on him.
This chapter is pretty angsty, as you don't really expect Harry to come back to Hogwarts without running into some of his detractors, do you? Don't worry, though - he'll have plenty of supporters, too.
I hope you enjoy it.
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It was now the second night of the parent-teacher conferences, and Harry once again sat in the Great Hall surrounded by his dearest friends. The atmosphere was the same as the night before, at least on the part of the parents who were sitting at the tables. The Muggles were once again staring around the Great Hall, some of them with nothing but pure wonder and rapture on their faces.
Hermione, however, certainly didn't look as she had the night before. Although she tried to hide it, there was definitely a look of worry on her face as she kept stealing glances at where her parents were sitting. Fifth-year parents were here tonight, and it was obvious that Hermione wished she could be anywhere else but here.
"I've hidden so much from them." She had admitted that to Harry before. It was obvious that they would find out the truth today. She was barely touching her food, and Harry knew that this time, it had nothing to do with her anger over the plight of house-elves.
Harry could see how Ron and Hermione's relationship had grown and evolved into something beautiful. He observed the way Ron's eyes softened as he gave Hermione's hand a reassuring squeeze. Harry watched as Ron glanced at her parents as well, his expression also worried. It was honestly a very tender scene to witness.
"They know something," Hermione had admitted when she first sat down at the table. "They didn't say anything, but ... it was the way they looked at me. Someone ... someone told them something."
Ron looked at her gently. "Are you going to talk to them later, after the meetings?"
"Yeah," Hermione said, although it couldn't be clearer that she was dreading it. "They asked me to meet them at 8:30 in the entrance hall, after they've had all their meetings."
"Do you want me to go with you?" Harry and Ron asked at exactly the same time.
Hermione looked immensely touched. "I really appreciate it, but ... I need to do this on my own," she replied softly.
Harry and Ron nodded in understanding, but neither of them were happy about it - especially Ron. "Are you sure?" the redhead couldn't help but ask.
"I'm sure." Hermione answered resolutely. "I ... as much as I don't want to, I know I need to talk to them."
It was clear what was on Hermione's mind - it was on both Ron and Harry's, too, and many of the other students. Hogwarts was now missing a couple of Muggle-born students - their parents, after finding out the truth of the war against Voldemort, had chosen to remove their children from Hogwarts, despite the warnings of some of the professors. Harry looked around at the House tables, and saw several students glancing glumly at their food. Obviously, they were the friends of the people who had left. Harry and Ron exchanged a meaningful look, and in that moment, both of them were thinking the same thing: Please don't let the Grangers make the same decision.
After dinner was over, Professor Giddens made the same announcements as she had the night before, since these were different parents from last night. After she had finished, Harry, Ron, and Hermione got up from the table.
Harry wanted nothing more than to go to the common room again and lose himself in the normalcy of it. Last night had been so wonderful as he played chess with Ron and watched Hermione read a book. It had been amazing to chat with Ginny, Neville, Dean, and everyone else who wanted to welcome him back. The four hours that Harry had spent in the common room went by in a whirlwind - they'd gone faster than he had ever expected.
And he wanted another night just like it. It was so comforting, so natural, so ... normal. It reminded him so much of when he'd first come to the school, when things seemed so much lighter.
But he couldn't. There were things he needed to do, people he needed to see. As much as he wanted to wait until January to face the hard conversations, it wasn't in his nature to beat around the bush.
Cedric's face came to his mind. Harry could remember that after that disastrous Quidditch match in his third year when he'd fallen off his broom, Cedric had made the effort to come and visit him in the hospital wing, something he hadn't had to do at all. Harry was still weak, still recovering from the ordeal he'd suffered.
"I'm sorry," Cedric had said sincerely. His expression had been distressed and guilty. "I ... I swear I asked Madam Hooch for a rematch. I didn't realize you'd fallen off your broom."
"It's okay, Cedric. You won." Harry knew his voice had been dispirited, but it wasn't Cedric he'd been angry with - he'd been furious with himself for letting his team down. No one else he'd seen seemed to have such a bad reaction to the Dementors, and he felt weak mentally as well as physically.
Cedric had still looked bothered. "I'm sorry," he had repeated, looking supremely uncomfortable. "I'll let you rest."
It was obvious he'd wanted to stay longer, but Harry was exhausted, upset, and felt crushed. His Nimbus 2000 was gone, having crashed into the Whomping Willow and not survived the ordeal. And now, he felt even more horrible - Cedric had done nothing but be nice to him, genuinely regretful for what had happened, and probably thinking Harry was angry with him. He probably thought that he was the last person Harry wanted to see, and that was why his visit had been so brief. Harry had the sudden urge to shout after him, to thank him for being incredibly decent, for trying to make everything fair, for caring enough to come and visit. But by the time Harry opened his mouth, Cedric's footsteps were gone. He sank back into the hospital bed, now more depressed than ever.
Was that partly why the jealousy had reared its ugly head when Cedric had become the true Hogwarts champion, receiving all the agilation while Harry got the insults, the accusing stares, and those stupid badges that Malfoy had created? Despite the way Cedric had reacted to him being chosen at first, he had never worn one of those badges. In fact, he had been seen telling people not to wear them. He was truly a decent person and didn't let his fame get to him - but unlike Harry, he had earned that fame on his own. He didn't receive it because of dead parents and an ugly scar on his forehead. Harry had almost wanted Cedric's ego to grow larger - that would have made it okay for him to be angry with the older boy. The fact that he remained decent throughout the course of the tournament, even assisting him with the egg clue, only made Harry feel guiltier about his feelings towards him. And then, when he and Cho had become an item ... forget it. The jealousy was a roaring monster.
And now, with Harry realizing how petty it all had been, his mind wandered back to that visit in the hospital wing. Cedric had been such a good person, and he had done things that were difficult. Harry's heart twisted, vividly remembering the moment when Cedric had been standing so close to the Triwizard Cup, knowing that Harry was injured, knowing that glory was only a few footsteps away and he could take it, knowing that Harry could never catch up due to his wounded leg. And yet, he was willing to give it up, willing to let Harry take the win.
And Harry ... in that moment, he'd wanted to be like him, to get past his jealousy and reach out a hand to the older boy. Little was he to know that his decision would get him killed. If he'd just been selfish and listened to Cedric, grabbing the glory for himself ...
Still, despite the terrible tragedy that had happened, he knew that being selfish in the future wasn't the solution. When Priori Incantatem had happened and Cedric had looked at him, telling him to hold on ... his facial expression had said it all. "It's not your fault. It's all going to be okay."
And now, Harry knew that the selfish thing to do would be to leave these conversations until January. He had to follow Cedric's example and do the difficult thing.
He had to speak to Matthew Banner and Rebecca Hardman. And ... Merlin ... he had to speak to Cho.
Last night, Ron and Hermione had very pleasantly surprised him. "We retrieved this for you," Ron had said as he removed a well-worn, beloved piece of parchment from his robes pocket. "The bastard should never have had it."
Harry had felt his heart burst with joy as he knew precisely what Ron was holding - the Marauder's Map. Barty Crouch, Jr. who Harry obviously thought had been Mad-Eye Moody at the time, had taken it from him. Upon learning who he really had been, Harry had felt sick to his stomach. Merlin ... the things he could have done with it ... his imagination had thought up horrifying scenarios. Harry had to be way more careful with it, and it certainly just wasn't because of how sentimental he felt over it. It could be a major security risk - yes, it was password protected, but Harry knew all too well that Peter Pettigrew knew both how to lock and unlock it. He, after all, had been one of its creators, and Peter Pettigrew wasn't exactly good at keeping secrets, Harry had thought bitterly.
Still, he couldn't help the smile that spread over his face at the sight of it. It had been one of those few things that one of his parents' hands had touched. It sounded ridiculously melodramatic even to his own ears, but it was how he felt. He couldn't imagine all the time and devotion that had gone into creating the map.
"Thank you." Harry had spoken the words to Ron softly. He held the parchment almost reverently, vowing to never let anyone take it ever again.
Now, a day later, he was going to use it to help him locate Matthew, Rebecca, and Cho. He had to tread carefully, however - if he used the map too much to find people, they were bound to become suspicious of how he knew exactly where they were. He had to find ways of treating it like a coincidence; he didn't want to come off as some kind of weird stalker.
He led Ron and Hermione to the same empty classroom they had spoken in the night before. Once the door was closed, Ron immediately asked, "Are you okay, mate?"
"Is something wrong?" Hermione added, looking worried. "You look really nervous."
"I ..." Harry cleared his throat. He retrieved the Marauder's Map from his pocket, which was currently in its blank state. "I need to talk to Rebecca, Matthew, and Cho. It's ... it's only right."
Ron and Hermione's faces immediately filled with concern. "Are you sure you're ready for that?" Ron asked, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder while Hermione's brown eyes met his determined green ones.
"Yeah. I'm sure," Harry replied softly. "I need to do this."
He expected Ron and Hermione to argue with him further, but the look in Harry's eyes seemed to deter them. "We'll go with you." Ron's voice was adamant.
Hermione nodded fervently. She said nothing, but the look in her brown eyes said everything that words couldn't.
Harry perused the map, and he was once again astounded by the number of people currently inhabiting Hogwarts. There were so many dots in some areas that he had to tap his wand to the parchment in order to show certain parts of the castle in a larger fashion, making the rest of it disappear.
As he explored the castle grounds, he spotted Rebecca and Matthew. They were by the lake, and their dots were moving, which signaled that they were probably walking. Harry smiled; this made it much easier for him to find them and make it look like he was just going for a walk himself. It was a pleasant evening - it wasn't too cold, and he often enjoyed walks out on the grounds by the lake, especially in the evening when everything seemed to be glowing. There was almost a surreal quality about Hogwarts at night.
He looked for Cho as well, and found her in the library. This would be harder - it was less likely that he would go there, when he wasn't taking classes here right now. He could probably get away with saying that he was looking for information to help him in his tutoring sessions at home, and he decided that was what he would do if she was still there by the time he finished talking with Matthew and Rebecca - he needed fresh air, so they were who he would speak to first.
After showing Ron and Hermione where they were going, they set off immediately. Harry was afraid he would lose his nerve if they didn't go right now. He felt butterflies in his stomach, and his breathing quickened slightly as they left the classroom.
Hermione paused right outside it, as did Ron, causing Harry to almost collide into them. "What?" he asked.
Ron and Hermione just looked at him, both in sync with each other as each laid a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be okay, Harry," Hermione told him gently.
"If you don't want to do this today, you don't have to," Ron added.
Harry took a deep breath, and he couldn't stop the images from running through his mind. He saw Cedric's fearful face, his vacant gray eyes, his body lying so incredibly still while Harry, helpless and terrified, was tied to the senior Tom Riddle's tombstone. He heard Cho's screams for her boyfriend to wake up - "Please, look at me, love! Please! PLEASE!" He saw Matthew's eleven-year-old cousin Elizabeth being hit by Crucio after Crucio, and Harry felt power flow through his wand as Voldemort's emotions swept over him. He took delight in the horror-stricken screams of Elizabeth's parents as the cackles of his supporters filled the air. ...
Ron and Hermione didn't know yet that Harry had seen Matthew's family die, and had experienced it as if he was Voldemort himself. He shuddered, knowing that he should tell them - but not now. Maybe it was cowardly, but Harry couldn't deal with all the hard conversations at once.
Harry closed his eyes, and forcefully pushed the images away. This wasn't about him and his memories. This was about thanking three people who had done so much for him. They had no reason to, especially not Cho - but she had put herself out there for him. It was the least Harry could do.
"I need to do this." Harry opened his eyes after taking several deep breaths. He smiled at his friends and added sincerely, "I'm just glad you're with me."
Both of them smiled, still looking concerned. But Harry began to walk, and they followed, trusting him. As they headed to the entrance hall, Harry began to feel much more purposeful, his strides becoming larger and stronger. There were tons of people milling about the castle - students and parents alike - but Harry and his friends continued to the great front doors with no delay. Thankfully, no one stopped them as they made it out onto the grounds.
The moon was shining down, and the stars added that familiar glow to the grounds that Harry remembered so well. It was a cool evening, but not overly cold. The trio had light jackets on as they traversed towards the lake, passing other students that were also taking advantage of the beautiful night. He received some welcoming looks, and some that were not so welcoming. However, the presences of Ron and Hermione seemed to deter anyone from confronting him, which Harry was exceedingly grateful for. He tried not to react to any of the hostile glances - he unfortunately understood why some were not happy to see him. He realized that many of the people looking at him in a not-so-friendly manner were wearing Hufflepuff colors, and instead of feeling anger, Harry felt sympathy. He wasn't about to bother them either.
"There they are," said Ron, pointing Matthew and Rebecca out to Harry, who realized that he had honestly never paid attention to these two students before - he'd never had reason to. Because of this, he honestly hadn't known what they looked like, and he felt like an idiot. Maybe he had been in his own little world for too long, only really including Gryffindors in his friendship circle. Did he come off as standoffish to other students? Was that why they suspected him of terrible things so much, or was it all because he'd been put on a pedestal by the wizarding world and if he didn't meet expectations, he toppled off it? Or was it a mixture of both?
Whatever the case, Harry came to the sudden realization that he needed to change certain things about himself. So many had supported him in his time of need by signing that counterpetition, when Harry hadn't really made an effort to get to know anyone besides those he was closest to. He vowed that when he returned in January, this would change. If he expected support from his peers, he had to earn it.
Rebecca and Matthew had stopped walking, and were sitting under the beech tree that Harry, Ron, and Hermione often used as their own spot for relaxation. When he had explained this to Sirius once, a slow, wistful smile had come across the man's face. "That was our spot too," he'd said quietly, and had then gone into detail about conversations he'd had with the other Marauders. It seemed that this particular tree was a common area for students to occupy.
Rebecca and Matthew looked up as the trio came walking towards them. A kind smile lit Rebecca's face while Matthew's eyes widened in surprise.
"Er ... hi," Harry said softly, standing uncomfortably beside them.
Rebecca's eyes were gentle. "Hello, Harry. Come and sit with us, won't you?" She patted the spot beside her. "You guys can join us too," she told Ron and Hermione, and Matthew nodded in agreement.
Harry took a deep breath of the fresh autumn air, and sat down beside Rebecca on the grass. A gentle breeze blew as Ron and Hermione joined him.
Harry didn't quite know what to say as he faced the two people who had fought for him, despite the fact that they barely knew him. They had braved speaking with the school governors, and they had succeeded. Harry also didn't know what to say to Matthew, who had been through such a tragic loss. Harry was also aware that his old self would have doubted Matthew simply because he was a Slytherin. He would have put him in the same category as Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle for absolutely no reason at all, which in retrospect was completely idiotic. Matthew Banner had never caused Harry any problems.
In the end, there was only one thing Harry could say, only two words that could truly suffice. But the emotion behind them would hopefully convey to Matthew and Rebecca just how much their support had meant to him. Looking them both in the eye, he simply whispered, "Thank you."
Rebecca's face was open, showing everything she was feeling. Matthew's expression was more restrained, but his eyes softened as he looked back at Harry. "It was the right thing to do," he said, his voice so matter-of-fact that it had honestly sounded like he'd just said that the moon was out tonight.
"None of what happened to you was fair," Rebecca said adamantly. "I was so sick of people in this school accusing you of all and sundry. And ..." Her voice grew quieter. "You deserve to be here at Hogwarts. I don't understand how anyone could blame you for being targeted by a madman."
Ron and Hermione remained quiet, which Harry very much appreciated. They were still by his side, supporting him silently while he had this conversation. Harry let their presence bolster him. "I'm ... so sorry," he said softly. "I'm so sorry about Cedric. And ... I read about your family in the Prophet," he told Matthew, fighting down the images of horror that tried to enter his mind again. He knew that he couldn't possibly tell Matthew that he honestly felt like he had been the one who had committed those vile murders.
"Thank you." Matthew's eyes met his full-on. "That means a lot."
Harry saw the flash of pure agony that went through Matthew's eyes for just a second, followed by a flash of pure rage and hate. Harry knew right there and then that if any Death Eater or Voldemort crossed him, he wouldn't hold back. Guilt once again flooded Harry as he thought of all the times he'd disparaged everyone in Slytherin House. He was just as bad as those who accused him of wrongdoing all the time with absolutely no evidence.
"I wish you could come back earlier than January. We tried," Rebecca started.
Harry smiled at her. "I know you did, and honestly, this is for the best," he said truthfully. "I feel like ... er ... I'll have more time to prepare."
Rebecca looked exceedingly grateful at this. She scrutinized Harry closely, her smile a very sad one as she said quietly, "I'm sorry that most people don't think you're human."
"What?" Harry asked, surprised by her blunt statement.
"I reckon you don't remember what happened when you were a baby," Matthew said sardonically. "Yet everyone acts like you need to be some perfect specimen because of it. You're not allowed to hurt. You're not allowed to cry. And you're expected to save everyone all the time, and if you don't, everything is your fault."
"If you don't meet expectations, then you're the enemy," Rebecca said, gaining momentum. The pure anger on her face startled Harry. "You're never allowed any privacy. Those vultures at the Daily Prophet spend almost all of their time speculating over your every move. It's disgusting."
Everything Rebecca and Matthew had said was true, and Harry was taken aback by them caring so much. These were two students he had never talked to during his entire time at Hogwarts so far.
"My mum was the one who defeated Voldemort in 1981," Harry blurted out, unable to help himself. Why hadn't he told many people this? His beautiful mother deserved to have all the agilation and the admiration. An image of her rose in his mind, her ghostly form smiling sadly at him after she had emerged from Voldemort's wand. Harry could see her love for him shining out - he could feel it all around him.
Rebecca and Matthew were quiet as Harry explained what had happened on Halloween 1981. He didn't quite comprehend why he was suddenly so comfortable with two people he'd never met before.
They simply nodded after he was finished. "Then why didn't Dumbledore tell the entire wizarding world that?" Rebecca asked, livid. "Why put that all on you?"
Matthew's tone was sarcastic. "Oh, I don't know. Because worshiping a little boy who just survived a tragedy is far more exciting than being grateful to a dead woman who can't say anything in return." He snorted derisively. "Stupid old fool," he sneered.
Harry realized there was yet another person who had rather ... unpleasant feelings towards Dumbledore, to put it lightly. Matthew's explanation for the old man's motives for not telling the world the truth about Halloween 1981 honestly made sense to him, too. His mixed feelings about the Headmaster remained - he certainly wasn't the sainted grandfatherly figure Harry had idolized.
"You'll always have our support, Harry." Rebecca spoke firmly. "We'll do whatever it takes." Her expression grew intensely sad. "Thank you for doing what you could for Cedric," she said softly.
Harry was immensely touched. "It was the least I could do," he whispered. "I wish ..."
"I know," Rebecca said gently. "I know."
They sat in a silence of solidarity for several minutes. Harry watched as Matthew took Rebecca's hand in his own, and he saw that they were looking at each other in the same way Ron and Hermione were. The latter couple were still remaining silent, but were looking at Harry with gentle eyes.
"Er ..." Harry said eventually. "I need to talk to Cho, as well."
Rebecca smiled. "Well, she'll be here in about five minutes," she informed him. "Matthew and I were going to study with her this evening."
Well, that certainly solved the problem Harry had of finding her without looking suspicious. His heart picked up speed a little - he knew that speaking to her would be far more difficult, but determination burned in his heart - he owed her so much.
"We befriended her right after the governors' meeting," Matthew explained. "Most of her old friends ... they just skidaddled."
"Because she dares to actually grieve for someone she loves." Disgust swept over Harry again - Hermione had already told him this, and it never failed to repulse him. Why were some people in this school so awful?
"Yeah, exactly." Matthew's face contorted. "According to them, she's just supposed to pick herself up and move on. I wasn't aware that crying over your murdered sweetheart would lose you popularity points."
Harry had often heard this brand of sarcasm coming from the mouths of Slytherins, and he had never agreed with it so completely. He saw the sheer bitterness on Matthew's face and wondered whether people treated him like this as well - after all, he had lost three family members, and many in the school already had their views of Slytherins firmly in place.
Suddenly, an unfamiliar but hostile voice shouted, "POTTER!" A set of footsteps stalked towards him.
All five of the students sitting under the tree jumped - none of them had been paying the slightest bit of attention to anything else on the grounds.
"Oh no," Rebecca muttered, getting to her feet, as did Ron and Hermione, both their faces transforming so quickly into looks of fury that it was shocking.
"Potter." The voice was filled with loathing. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"No. The real question is, what the hell are YOU doing here, Jeff?" Ron snarled.
Harry's heart sank all the way down to his toes - was this the same Jeff that had created the petition in the first place? From everyone's reactions, it certainly looked that way, and the way he was glaring at Harry certainly suggested it.
Harry was rooted to the spot. Ron and Hermione instantly tried to shield Harry from sight, but it wasn't going to work, and even they knew that - Jeffrey had already seen him. But it was their instinct - Harry recognized the looks they wore; he had started to refer to them as their "battle faces".
"This is my grounds, too," Jeff sneered in answer to Ron's question. "Or were you so wrapped up in your pathetic conversation that you didn't realize that I still attend this school?" His face twisted in anger. "It isn't January yet, so I'll ask you again - what the hell are you doing here?" he demanded of Harry.
Remain calm, Harry told himself. This is someone who's in pain, who lost his best friend. "My guardian is one of the assistants here, so the governors allowed me to come while he's here," he replied quietly.
"Convenient," Jeff hissed. "And how many people are going to die while you're having this cozy little chat?"
"How dare you." The venom in Matthew's voice was so thick that it startled Harry. "You're not going to come here and start antagonizing him. You could have just continued on your walk and left the bloke alone, you know?"
"No." Jeff's eyes were blazing with fury, but Harry could see something lurking behind them that the others couldn't - his eyes were shadowed by such raw pain and such grief. It was like an open, bleeding wound that no one else could see, and Harry felt his entire body go cold.
He spoke before he could stop himself. "Please, let me talk to him," he told the others who were acting as his shields; Rebecca and Matthew were also blocking Harry from Jeff's view.
"Why?" Hermione sounded desperate. "He's not going to listen to you."
"He's a lost cause," Rebecca spat, practically vibrating with rage.
"No." Harry stood up as well. "He's not." He felt the guilt begin to flood through him again as Cedric's frozen face entered his mind, but he tamped it down. He needed to stay in control if he was going to have this conversation with Jeff. He attempted to replace the images of Cedric's lifeless body and the phantom sounds of screams and sobs with the thought of Sirius, how he had healed Harry this summer, how he had made him believe that his life was worth living.
The others tried to stop him from getting past them to face Jeff, but his eyes pleaded with them. Hermione was almost in tears as her own eyes pleaded back at him. "Please," Harry said eventually. "It's going to be okay. I really need to speak to him. Please don't interfere." His voice softened.
It was this that made the others move aside, although Harry knew they were loathe to do so. He stood beside Jeff, who was shaking with anger and pent-up sorrow.
Before Harry could speak, Jeff began talking, his voice a quiet hiss, the words attempting to wring out as much pain from Harry as possible. "He was my best friend." His brown eyes bored into Harry's green ones. "My very, very best friend. We grew up together, you know. I always wanted a sibling, and never got one. Cedric Diggory was the brother I never had."
Everything else on the grounds seemed to fade away as Harry stood, listening to Jeff speak. He could tell that every word out of his mouth was heartfelt and true, and Harry wanted to close his eyes. But he couldn't - he felt it only right to listen to everything Jeff had to say.
"You don't have to listen to this." Ron's enraged voice broke through. "Come on, Harry. Let's go."
"No." Harry's tone held conviction.
"You're really going to let him do this to you?" Rebecca's eyes were slits. "I bet everything he's saying is bullshit anyway!"
"It's not." Harry didn't know how he knew, but he could tell that Jeff wasn't lying.
"I was so excited when he became Hogwarts champion," Jeff continued. "The TRUE Hogwarts champion," he added, and Harry flinched at the words. "I was so proud of him. He always said I should have put my name in, too, but I always knew I wasn't brave enough. He was my inspiration, my role model, my North Star."
He met Harry's eyes again, and held the gaze. Harry could see so much pain in those eyes beneath all the anger, and he felt like he was shattering into a million pieces. Still, he couldn't help but listen, knowing he owed Jeff all of this.
"He really began to care about you, you know." Jeff's voice grew quieter. "He knew that something wasn't right - especially after you told him about the dragons. He always used to say that you couldn't have cheated your way in, because if you did, why would you bother trying to help him?"
"He helped me, too," Harry said quietly. "With the egg clue."
"I know. He told me," Jeff replied. "I watched him as he grew in confidence, as he and Cho grew more serious. Oh, that must have hurt you so much," he sneered.
Blimey, Harry thought. Did EVERYONE know about his old crush on Cho?
As if answering his question, Jeff said, "Oh, you were so not subtle about it. Everyone and their GRANDMOTHER knew how you felt about her. You were very obvious about it - or did you think we were all blind? The way you stared at her at the Yule Ball was revolting."
Harry tried to not let the words pierce him. He's only trying to hurt you, he thought as he looked at his silent supporters around him. Ron, Hermione, Rebecca, and Matthew all had varying expressions of anger, sadness, and helplessness on their faces.
"Still, Cedric cared about you," Jeff went on relentlessly. "The day of the Third Task, all he could talk about was you. He was worried that someone would try to hurt you. Why else would you have been entered into the tournament, if you weren't cheating?"
Harry knew that there had to be a climax to this, and prepared himself for what he was going to say next. It all sounded like he was leading up to something ... something that would really hurt.
"That's the thing, though." Jeff's eyes were blazing again as he stared Harry down. "If you didn't cheat, you obviously knew someone had entered you into the tournament for some other purpose," he growled. "And knowing this, did you try to get yourself out? No. In the end, you wanted to win it just as much, didn't you?"
Harry felt as though ice had enveloped his entire body, because Jeff was right. On the day of the Third Task, especially when he saw the Triwizard Cup right in front of him, he'd wanted to win for Hogwarts. For a moment, he'd completely forgotten that there might be something nefarious afoot. In front of him was the prize, something he had earned on his own. It was only later when he realized that Barty Crouch had taken away so many of his obstacles. He'd been caught up in the moment, wanting nothing more than to achieve something that was independent of his fame. This had nothing to do with the scar on his forehead, his parents being dead, and Voldemort. Little was he to realize that this had EVERYTHING to do with that.
"Yes," Harry told Jeff truthfully - he couldn't lie to him. "Yes, I did want to win. I was so incredibly stupid."
"No, you weren't!" Hermione shouted at him. "Don't you even dare ..."
Jeff's face was very, very close to Harry's, and he could see the terrible anger and grief there so clearly. "You bastard," he whispered. "You forgot that you had a target painted on your back."
There was a long, painful moment of absolute silence before Jeff delivered the final blow. "I was at Fudge's trial, you know," he whispered. "I saw the memory of what happened. Did you know that the last word my best friend ever spoke was your name? After everything you did to him, all he wanted to do was help you! You were lying on the ground clutching your scar and couldn't even be bothered to respond to him!"
Harry felt his ears ringing as the words sank themselves into him. Jeff was continuing to speak, his voice growing into a shout, but Harry could no longer hear what he was saying.
He hadn't remembered that. He couldn't recall Cedric shouting his name when he'd fallen - the pain in his scar had been so intense that nothing else had broken through. The next thing he'd remembered was Voldemort's terrifying, high-pitched voice hissing, "Kill the spare!" He remembered the shouted Killing Curse from Peter, and the thump of something falling to the ground. When Harry had opened his eyes, he had seen Cedric lying there ... and he was already gone.
Had his subconscious remembered this, though? It must have - he obviously hadn't tampered with that memory when he'd put it into a vial so it could be sent to Amelia Bones for Fudge's trial. He felt his eyes fill with tears at the fact that Cedric's very last act was to try to help Harry, when Harry was the reason he was dead. Jeff was absolutely right - Harry should have done more to get out of the tournament. He shouldn't have gotten caught up in the sudden thought that he really could win this thing, and earn something on his own. He felt sick when he recalled the thought of himself holding the trophy, and Cho Chang looking on with impressed eyes. It was that image that made him sickest of all.
He heard more voices screaming now - Ron, Hermione, Matthew, and Rebecca were all screaming themselves hoarse at Jeff. Words began to make themselves known to him again as Ron roared, "How dare you! You're not upset over Diggory at all - you're just trying to hurt Harry!"
Maybe the latter part was true - Jeff was saying all these things to re-open the wound, but Harry knew that Ron was wrong about the first part. Jeff really was that grief-stricken over Cedric's death, and no one had helped him through it. He was using Harry as his punching bag, and while his best friends were furious, Harry honestly wasn't.
He understood what it felt like, to want to lash out. If he'd had to return to the Dursleys this past summer instead of going with Sirius, the isolation and loneliness might have really affected him. He remembered the summer after his first year, when he'd been locked in his room with bars on his window. He'd had no contact with Ron and Hermione, and at the time, he hadn't known that Dobby had been keeping his mail from him. He remembered the anger he'd felt at them, because they'd promised to write and they hadn't. He'd wanted to unload on them, demanding to know if the year he'd spent at Hogwarts had even been real.
And the summer before his third year, he'd blown up his Aunt Marge in a fit of rage. It wasn't like he hadn't heard it all before - the woman always said vile things about his parents whenever she came to visit. But that time had stung a thousand times worse, because he now knew that his parents weren't lazy drunks who'd gotten themselves killed, and he'd been missing the wizarding world and his friends. He had gone back to a life of either being insulted or being ignored.
He honestly didn't know what kind of person he'd be if Sirius hadn't taken care of him this summer. He looked at Jeff with new eyes, realizing that he must not have had any help to move past his anger and blame towards Harry. He couldn't help but wonder whether Cedric had been his only friend. Had that petition been his way of acting out? Obviously, he'd managed to get other students to sign it, and his points had been valid. Harry couldn't deny that his status did pose a danger to everyone he associated with.
The revelation that Harry's name was the last thing out of Cedric's mouth still swam through his mind as his four supporters continued to scream all kinds of insults at Jeff. Ron was using swearwords that would have made Mrs. Weasley furious, and Hermione and Rebecca both had tears in their eyes as they shouted invectives at him. Matthew's face was expressionless, but his eyes were flashing in anger.
"Stop it!" Harry bellowed, and everyone went silent at once. His own emerald eyes were full of unshed tears as he reached his hand out to the other boy.
"Look," he whispered, taking a deep breath. He needed to be here for Jeff right now - he couldn't show his own pain, his own guilt. "You're right. I did want to win the tournament - that's true. You blame me for Cedric's death, and I understand. I've been told for months that his death wasn't my fault and ... no, I wasn't the one to point my wand at him. But do I still blame myself for it? Yes, I do, and I always will, no matter how much I'm told otherwise.
"I know he was your best friend," Harry continued, and he could see that his quiet words were suddenly getting through to Jeffrey. The irrational anger was disappearing from his eyes, but the pain there was incredibly intense, and this, somehow, made it more difficult for Harry to speak to him. He was used to anger - how many times had the Dursleys spat and snarled and screamed at him? The pain, though ...
"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, still holding Jeff's gaze. "If I could bring Cedric back, I would. You see me as the cause for all your problems, and I understand. I do." He instinctively reached out, putting a hand on Jeff's arm. He expected the other boy to react violently to this gesture, but surprisingly, he didn't.
"Would you have traded your life for his?" the boy asked in a whisper. "If you could have jumped in front of that curse, would you have done it?"
Harry heard his supporters start to object, but Harry replied before they could say much - he could only be truthful. "Yes," he said, and there was so much meaning in that one word. "I would have."
Jeff's eyes were shadowed, and he nodded. "Why are you here?" he asked quietly, but this time, there was no venom in his tone.
"Because I have people in my life that showed me that there's so much to live for," Harry replied softly. "After Cedric ... after he died, I didn't think I deserved to live. All the blame you've assigned to me hardly compares to everything I told myself. I ..." He took a deep breath. "I would have done anything to save him," he whispered.
Jeff remained silent, all anger seeming to have evaporated from his body. He was simply looking at him now, and then, he uttered two words that Harry wasn't expecting to hear at all.
"I'm sorry."
Harry was stunned. "What?" he whispered.
"Cedric was my best friend." Jeff was now staring at Harry with pleading eyes. "I ... I didn't expect you to ... to agree with me. I never ... I never thought that you blamed yourself, too, even when others told me you did. I ... I never expected you to say that you'd have traded your life for his."
"I understand why you wrote that petition, Jeff." Harry looked meaningfully at him, and they locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity. "If me staying away from Hogwarts meant that I could save everyone from what's coming in this war, I would do so."
"But that's what Voldemort wants. He wants to isolate you from everyone, and if you stay away, you're doing his work for him," a new voice said softly.
And there, standing a few steps away from Harry and the group, was Cho Chang.
"Cho?" Harry gasped, having completely forgotten that she was going to meet Rebecca and Matthew here. How much of the confrontation had she heard?
"Hi, Harry." The beautiful girl smiled at him, and walked the last few steps to him. There was a deep sadness in her eyes, but a genuine reassurance, too.
Harry felt his throat constrict - he wasn't at all sure what he could say to her in this moment. He remembered how, when he'd first started noticing her, his stomach swooped with butterflies. He remembered his Quidditch match against her in third year. He remembered his disastrous attempt to ask her to the Yule Ball. He remembered how radiant she looked as she danced with Cedric at the ball. He remembered the overpowering jealousy as he saw them walking hand in hand down the corridors. He'd never forget how they clung to each other after the Second Task, when Cedric had rescued her from the merpeople. And ... he'd never be able to get her screams for Cedric to wake up out of his mind, the way she shook with body-wracking sobs as she stared into her boyfriend's vacant, lifeless eyes.
"It's okay, Harry. I know." Somehow, Cho could sense everything Harry wanted to say. "I understand."
"Uh ... thank you for signing the counterpetition, and for talking to the school governors," Harry said quietly.
"It was the least I could do," Cho replied softly. "I'm ... I'm sorry."
"For what?" Harry asked. "Why on Earth are you sorry, Cho?"
Cho looked at him directly. "Because I blamed you at first, too," she whispered. "It wasn't until Fudge's trial that I realized just what you'd been through. And ... I knew that if I truly wanted to be loyal to Cedric's memory, and be the better person that he taught me to be, I knew that I ..." She stopped, unable to go on.
Harry couldn't help himself. Cho looked so miserable and so guilty in that moment, and he didn't think she should be feeling any such thing. He remembered back to the days when he'd wanted to embrace her, to know what she felt like in his arms.
And now, when it was finally happening, it was for a completely different reason, and his heart ached. Any romantic feelings he'd had for her were gone now, and the embrace he was giving her now was one of comfort. In his fantasies a year ago, he never would have imagined something like this.
Yet, it was comforting to him as well. He tightened his arms around her when he felt Cho's tears on his neck, and he discreetly let a few of his own fall. In that moment, Cho Chang and Harry Potter remembered Cedric Diggory, sharing their pain and their grief, their regret, and their vow to continue living for him.
"Thank you," Cho said sincerely when Harry finally let her go. She wiped her eyes, and turned to face Jeff, who was still standing there, looking stricken.
Ron, Hermione, Rebecca, and Matthew were also still there, their faces in varying expressions. Ron still had some hostility in his face as he stared at Jeff. "Are you going to stop this now?" he demanded, his voice a mixture of anger and surprise - undoubtedly at Jeff's sudden and unexpected turnaround.
Jeff nodded, but didn't speak for several moments. When he did, he said quietly, "I'm ... I'm just so ..."
He stopped, but he didn't need to continue for Harry to understand. Lost. Confused. Missing my best friend. And scared of the war that's happening.
And Harry walked over and patted his shoulder. "I'm scared, too," he admitted, never meaning anything more. "But we all have each other."