Valentine's Fic: The Unexpected Tasks
Title: The Unexpected Tasks
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Cedric/Cho, Cho/Roger, Fleur/Cedric, Fleur/Harry, Hermione/Krum
Mentions of: Fleur/Roger, Harry/Cho, Ron/Hermione, Ron/Fleur, Harry/Hermione, Harry/Ron
Oh Yeah, And: Harry/Cedric
Warnings: some snogging, some language, some silliness
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and friends did not come from my head.
Summary: Feeling miserable after the Yule Ball, Harry and Ron decide to take matters into their own fumbling hands.
Author’s Note: I had fun writing this, so hopefully it’s fun to read! I also threw in some art at the end, being an illustrator by trade. So yes, enjoy, and happy Hallmark Day!
The Unexpected Tasks
Prologue
“This sucks.”
It wasn’t eloquent, as Ron rarely was, but Harry thought it summed things up rather nicely. The Yule Ball had left both of them feeling fairly miserable, and there was no hope left of enjoying the remainder of their holiday. Harry for one was far too busy thinking of good hexes he could throw at Cedric Diggory in the corridors without getting caught. Ron, on the other hand, kept grumbling darkly about Victor Krum, which Harry was smart enough to ignore. They lounged on their respective beds staring blankly at the ceiling.
“We’re wizards,” Harry complained listlessly for the umpteenth time. “We shouldn’t have to deal with this sort of stuff. Why isn’t there a spell that’ll make a witch interested in you, or at least get her to realize the person she’s with is an absolute git?”
“Well, there’s always love potions,” Ron said with a shrug.
Harry abruptly sat up, his entire demeanor already shifting. “They exist?”
Ron nodded. “I know Fred and George have mentioned it, you know, for their joke shop. It’s supposed to make the drinker fancy you or something. It’s really complicated though.”
But Harry’s brain was already whirring. “I bet we could do it. We managed to make Polyjuice Potion in our second year, right?” The fact that Hermione had done most of the work conveniently slipped his mind. “We should do it! Cho’s never going to give me the time of day otherwise, not with pretty-boy Diggory around!”
“Yeah,” Ron said, his face slowly lighting up. “You reckon I could sneak some to Fleur?”
Harry hesitated. “I don’t see why not,” he lied.
“That’ll show her,” Ron added under his breath while Harry feigned temporary hearing loss.
Harry insisted they waste no time, and that evening, as Hermione studied in her dormitory, Harry and Ron snuck off to the library to look up Amortentia. Finding it was almost insultingly easy, although the instructions themselves were not.
“Blimey,” said Ron as they read it over. “I’m not sure it’s worth it. It takes an entire month and a half to brew.”
“At least we have all the ingredients,” Harry pointed out enthusiastically. “And a month and a half isn’t so long.” Sudden inspiration struck him as he did the math. “We’ll have it just before Valentine’s Day! We just sneak it into some chocolates and send them anonymously - it’s perfect!”
Ron eventually agreed, and they spent the next several weeks forgoing essays in favor of their own personal extra credit. It all seemed well worth it as the final day arrived and they both peered eagerly into their respective cauldrons. Harry’s smelled vaguely of treacle tarts and broomsticks, a surprisingly rich, pleasant aroma. He had a difficult time pulling himself away to inspect Ron’s concoction, which was giving off the delicate scent of burnt flowers.
“Mine doesn’t look like yours,” Ron noted, frowning. “It’s all thick, and I’m not sure what mother-of-pearl is, but I don’t think this is it.”
“It doesn’t look too off. At least the steam is spiraling a bit, and mother-of-pearl is a bit vague, yeah? Reckon it’s safe to use?”
Ron considered it, then shrugged. “Guess it won’t hurt to try.”
Act I
Valentine’s Day arrived, and at the first chance he got after classes, Harry ducked into an empty classroom to pull out his map. It didn’t take him long to locate Cho Chang’s tiny dot, which was wandering around somewhere on the same floor, and, he noted with an excited jolt, without the accompaniment of Cedric Diggory. Heart fluttering, he hastily put the map away, and turned so he could go bump into Cho “accidentally.” But as he started towards the door, Cedric himself rushed in.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Harry.”
“Er, why? Is this about the tournament?”
“I think we both know what this is about,” Cedric growled as he moved closer.
Oh, Merlin, he found out about the potion! Harry slowly backed off a few paces, his hand hovering over his wand just in case. “Look,” he pleaded, “don’t be angry…”
But Cedric took a few long strides and Harry bumped up against the wall as Cedric grabbed his wrist. His eyes blazed savagely, and he was breathing heavily. Harry had expected him to be upset, but now that the boy was inches from his face he looked downright irrational. Harry cringed, listening for the curse that would finally disqualify him from the tournament altogether.
“How could I ever be angry at anyone so perfect?” Cedric breathed into his ear.
Harry went wide-eyed with comprehension.
“Harry,” Cedric gasped. “You have beautiful eyes…”
“Cedric, NO-”
A wet mouth clamped down on Harry’s, Cedric Diggory’s mouth, and Harry’s insides screamed in panic. Cedric had pinned him to the wall with his full strength, which was considerably more than Harry’s, his hand still tightly gripping Harry’s wrist, and any attempts to squirm or kick or push were useless. Harry’s brain was quickly clouding over in terror. He tried not to think about Cedric’s tongue being forced past his own shocked lips, or the way Cedric smelled, or the strange noises he was making, and desperately glanced at the classroom door in hopes of someone coming to his rescue.
Cho Chang stood there, her jaw on the ground.
Harry screamed into Cedric’s mouth, which made Cedric moan, which somehow made Harry moan, and by the time he opened his eyes again, Cho was gone. Harry redoubled his efforts to escape, but Cedric seemed to take it for eagerness because he leaned in harder and his free hand moved from where it was pinning Harry’s shoulder to stroke his chest. Harry shuddered involuntarily. He just couldn’t think, especially when that hand began moving all over, caressing his waist, rubbing circles on his hip, coming back to his rib cage with a desperate fervor that was strangely tender. And the kiss was invasive and aggressive and bloody scary, but Cedric was clearly no stranger to snogging. His tongue was carefully doing things Harry didn’t know tongues could do, and every time it touched his, cowering in the far recesses of his mouth, a small jolt zipped down his spine. Suddenly, Cedric pressed his entire body against Harry’s, and Harry’s brain threw up a white flag. There was nothing he could do. Cedric would snog all the oxygen out of him, which at least explained the vertigo, and there was nothing he could do but oblige.
As if on cue, the kiss began to slow. A shadow passed over Cedric’s glazed features, and Harry could feel him frowning. With a startled cry, Cedric pushed him away and took a giant leap backward.
“What the fuck did you do, Potter?”
Harry slowly sank to the floor, his knees buckling under him, and covered his face with his hands. His excuses came out muffled and trembling. “I didn’t… I just… it wasn’t meant for you…”
“I can’t believe it - you gave me a bloody love potion, didn’t you?” The rage written all over Cedric’s face certainly looked different from what Harry had assumed was rage earlier.
“Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t go eating things that aren’t yours!” Harry spat defensively.
“Wait… wait a minute, was this for Cho?”
Harry hid his face once more, which was answer enough. “It wasn’t supposed to work like that, though,” he muttered. “I just wanted her to be interested in me or something. Not attack me!”
“Harry,” Cedric sighed, frustration quickly replacing his anger. “Love potions don’t work like that. They make the victim obsessed, not interested. You can’t genuinely start any kind of relationship that way” - his eyes flashed - “especially one with my girlfriend! Next time, before you try some new spell or potion that’s well beyond your year, do us a favor and do the research first, will you? We’re both just lucky you brewed it correctly.”
Harry looked up at that. “What happens if you don’t?” he asked warily.
“Well, the person still becomes obsessive, but not towards the potion maker. They’ll just latch on to whoever’s convenient. And the effects don’t wear off nearly as quickly.” Harry looked distinctly distraught at this news, and Cedric exhaled forcefully, running a hand through his dark hair. “Look. This could have been a lot worse. At least no one walked in on us or anything, right?”
There was a pause. Harry stared past Cedric’s shoulder and opened and closed his mouth several times before finally making a choking noise that sounded vaguely like “Cho.”
Cedric’s face went white, and without another word he turned and bolted from the classroom.
**
Harry entered the Great Hall a little while later to find Cedric already hunched over the Hufflepuff table with no Cho in sight. Luckily, Cedric was too caught up in his own distress to notice him, and Harry quickly scrambled across the Hall to join a dejected Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors.
“Where’ve you been?” he asked. Harry quickly related his strange encounter with Cedric in hushed tones, although leaving out some very glaring details. Ron flushed as he listened to the effects of a faulty potion.
“Blimey, you don’t think- ”
Harry cut him off, staring incredulously at the door. Cho Chang had just walked in with a very loud giggle, and her arm snaked tightly around the elbow of Roger Davies. Roger looked confused but pleased as they sat down at the Ravenclaw table together and Cho continued to chat in a very obviously flirtatious manner. At least, if it were obvious to Harry, he assumed it must be obvious to everyone else. One guilty glance at the Hufflepuffs told him that it was certainly obvious to Cedric, whose pained expression turned to pure venom when he met Harry’s gaze. Harry coughed, and picked up the nearest Daily Prophet to hide behind.
“What the hell was that all a-“
Harry looked up with trepidation to find out what had interrupted Ron this time. There, framed in the doorway to the Great Hall and radiating a majestic fury, stood Fleur Delacour. For a few minutes, she merely glared daggers into Cho Chang’s back while the boys around her swooned. It took a full minute until Davies finally spotted her with a small, frightened noise, and Cho spun around. Having their attention at last, Fleur brought herself to her full intimidating height, sashayed over to the Hufflepuff table, quickly straddled the bench, and crushed Cedric Diggory’s face under the weight of her lips.
Cedric immediately went limp. Harry’s entire face went up in flames.
There was dead silence in the Great Hall as everyone watched the spectacle. Eventually a smug-looking Fleur disengaged her mouth from a dumbfounded-looking Cedric, and a handful of students broke out into cheers.
“It’s official,” Ron muttered as the cheering dissolved back to normal conversation. “I hate Valentine’s Day.” Harry agreed with a groan.
Act II
The next night, Harry swallowed his pride and took Cedric’s hint about the egg. It was partly desperation, and partly a secret wish to bump into Cedric so he could apologize profusely and avoid being murdered. He didn’t see Cedric that night, however, and didn’t catch glimpse of him for the rest of the week, although breathing underwater soon superseded all other concerns.
He did run into Cho late one night as he was leaving the library. She shoved him against the wall with Quidditch aggression and hissed, “You stay away from him, Harry Potter. He’s a good kid. He doesn’t need that.” She stalked off, leaving Harry blinking in confusion.
**
The morning of the second task found Harry shoving an unknown plant into his mouth at the edge of the Black Lake, and the romantic entanglements he had recently caused couldn’t have been further from his mind. He was much more concerned over trusting his life to a house elf who had frequently endangered him in the past. Thankfully, Dobby’s gillyweed literally worked like a charm, and he quickly set off into the lake’s depths.
Seeing four unconscious students serenely floating in the murky water was eerie enough. The fact that three of them were Ron, Hermione, and Cho was even more disconcerting. Harry’s waterlogged brain tried to piece it together: Ron was his to rescue according to Dobby, Hermione was probably there for Krum, and the little girl was the spitting image of Fleur. But that left Cho for Cedric, and as far as he knew, the two of them weren’t even speaking anymore. Cho was still glued to the elbow of Roger Davies, and Cedric had been mysteriously absent at meals, especially if Fleur wasn’t.
Harry put this speculation off to the side as he got to work releasing Ron, then waited for the other champions to arrive. Cedric Diggory was the first, the bubble that distorted his features barely hiding his dismay at the sight of Cho Chang patiently awaiting him. He threw Harry a dark look before cutting her loose and whisking her away. Feeling increasingly nervous, Harry swam over to rescue Hermione, but before the merpeople could rebuke him, a strange creature with the body of Krum and the head of a shark snapped at him and swam off with Hermione himself. Harry hesitated before rescuing Fleur’s sister, but really, she was the hostage least likely to get him into any more trouble. With a great deal of effort, he brought the two of them to the surface.
As soon as Harry scrambled onto the bank, a blanket was thrown over his shoulders, immediately followed by Hermione’s arms. She rapidly explained how worried she had been, how stupid he was for taking the egg literally, and how well or poorly the other Champions had performed. Harry wasn’t really listening. He shivered under his blanket watching Cedric who was brooding off to the side looking at Cho. Cho was ignoring him in favor of eyeing Harry and Ron in turn with suspicion. Krum also glared at Harry distrustfully, and wasted no time in pulling Hermione away to have a private word. Fleur took this as her opportunity to saunter up to Harry, her younger sister clutched closely to her side.
“You saved ‘er,” she said with glowing eyes. “Even though she was not your ‘ostage.”
“I helped,” Ron offered, but Fleur didn’t seem to hear him.
Harry wanted to explain that her sister hadn’t needed saving to begin with, but before he could gather his thoughts, Fleur clutched his face with both hands and snogged him full on the lips.
Harry blacked out.
When he came to, Fleur was reluctantly pulling away to hear the judges’ scoring while Harry tried remembering how to breathe. There were voices in the air speaking about “moral fiber” and “tied for first,” and he had a lot of trouble following the words through the haze. When he finally understood what had happened, he turned and grinned blearily at Cedric, who was searing holes into the side of his face with a look of intense jealousy.
Harry turned to Ron to ask what Cedric’s problem was. He immediately snapped out of his reverie when he found himself faced with the exact same expression.
So much for having his best mate back.
**
Rita Skeeter’s latest expose came out a week later while Harry sat with Hermione at the Gryffindor table over breakfast. Ron was no longer speaking to either of them. Hermione perused the article with disinterested amusement, scoffing every now and then at its claims.
“Oh please, Harry, you and me in a relationship? No offense of course, but you’re not really my type… and using a love potion? Who would be stupid enough to actually use one of those?” Harry threw a meaningful look at Ron, who was busily engaged in a Quidditch debate at the other end of the table. “Oh, this is the best part, listen: ‘Harry Potter, reeling in the wake of this latest rejection, seems to have turned to none other than fellow Triwizard Champion Fleur Delacour of the Beauxbatons school. Is this merely a rebound? Or will the exceptionally beautiful Fleur show him the love and devotion for which his poor heart so desperately yearns?’”
“Will you put that thing away?” Harry snapped, shooting another look at Ron’s back.
Hermione smirked, but upon seeing Harry’s expression changed her tone. “Don’t take it so personally Harry. Not everyone is thick enough to believe this rubbish. Cho doesn’t.”
A small bubble of hope welled in Harry’s chest. “Really?”
Hermione nodded sagely. “Earlier, I overheard her telling her friends that she knew for a fact the two of us were never an item. She also said that Fleur was wasting her breath on you. Then she mentioned something about feeling sorry for Ron, though I can’t imagine why.”
She returned her attention to the article, missing Harry’s mortified attempts to sink under the table.
The next few months passed painfully. People quoted Rita’s latest to Harry wherever he went, and despite Hermione’s assurances, it seemed that everyone believed it. Everyone, that is, except Cho, who continued to spread veiled hints that Rita Skeeter didn’t have her story straight. Ron was being even more stubborn than usual, and Hermione was spending many long hours with Victor Krum, who didn’t seem too keen on leaving her alone with Harry. To top it all off, Harry was using most of his energy just trying to avoid Fleur, who licked her coma-inducing lips whenever she saw him. Since he no longer had his map, his invisibility cloak was seeing a lot more use than usual.
The one person who didn’t seem intent on doing him harm was Cedric, and this made him feel worse than anything. After all, he was the only one whose hatred Harry actually deserved. But Cedric seemed content to ignore him entirely, and on the few occasions when Harry caught his stare from across the Great Hall, it scorched, but not with anger. Then Cedric would turn back to laugh with his many friends and admirers, and Harry was always left wondering if he had simply imagined it.
Act III
The day of the third task finally dawned, and Harry was struck by a painful realization: he would be trapped in a maze for an indefinite period of time with two powerful wizards who hated him, and an even more dangerous witch who was in love with him. He tried to be optimistic about it, thinking of the many dark creatures that would likely be putting him out of his misery within the first ten minutes.
Hermione wouldn’t hear it. “You’re being ridiculous, Harry. They’ll be much more interested in finding the cup than finding you. Just… use what we practiced and… oh, please be safe!” She hugged him painfully hard.
“Yeah, good luck mate,” Ron added with a pat on the back. He had recently conceded that it was possibly his fault that Fleur had become an unstoppable, potion-addled snogging enthusiast.
Harry muttered some sort of response and dragged himself to the entrance of the maze. He and Cedric shared an odd look before diving in and splitting paths.
Things went well at first - certainly better than he could have hoped. Harry seemed to be avoiding most of the obstacles of the maze (including his competitors) and the few he did stumble across had been just within his abilities. He was mentally patting himself on the back for recognizing and defeating that boggart when he turned a corner and found himself at another dead end. He really hated this stupid maze. But before he could retrace his steps, Cedric Diggory came barreling around the same corner, nearly knocking him over. There were a lot of insincere apologies and avoiding of eye contact.
“Dead end,” Harry pointed out.
“I can see that.”
“Yeah. Well.”
“Salut, garçons!”
Cedric and Harry whipped around. Fleur was smiling treacherously at each of them in turn, and Harry was suddenly finding it very hard to breath.
“Ah, what is zis? My two favorite boys in a secret meeting? And what are we talking about? Ze task?” She swept closer. “Or perhaps something else? Perhaps someone else?” She took another step forward, while Harry and Cedric inched back, weakly lifting their wands. “Mais, qu’est qu’il y a?” she innocently inquired, licking her lips as she sized them up.
Before they could properly defend themselves, Fleur’s smile vanished and she crumpled to the earth. Behind her, now blocking their escape route, glowered Victor Krum, and Harry gripped his wand more firmly as Cedric lowered his.
“Hey, thanks. You’ve no idea-“
“Cedric! Get down!”
Instinct took over as Harry knocked Cedric to the ground, narrowly avoiding the Cruciatus Curse that flew past Cedric’s ear. He aimed his own stun from where he had landed, hitting Krum squarely in the chest and sending him flying into the hedge and out of consciousness. Harry lay there for a few moments willing his breath and heartbeat back to a normal pace.
“Thanks,” a voice from underneath him grunted.
Harry quickly scrambled to his feet. “Forget it.” He brushed himself off and feigned composure, feeling a sudden surge of solidarity with the older student. “I just can’t believe Krum would do that… and I can’t believe he tried to attack you instead of me!”
“Well if he went spare, I’m sure you had something to do with it,” Cedric murmured.
Harry blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What do you think it means?” he suddenly roared, his whole body trembling. “You fuck everything up, Potter! This could have been a decent year for me, then you had to come along with your bloody good intentions and take away my title, my girlfriend, you nearly get me tortured…”
“Oh yeah, because that was my fault, just like when I cheated so I could risk my life in some sodding competition I don’t even care about! You think you’ve been having a bad year? I don’t know what he’s got against you, but Krum thinks I’m having an affair with Hermione, while my best mate thinks I’m having an affair with Fleur, and the girl I actually fancy has been telling everyone I’m having an affair with my best mate!”
“Oh, Merlin forbid anyone soil Harry Potter’s pristine image!” Cedric snapped bitterly.
“I don’t even care what people are saying! It would just be nice for once if someone in this bloody school didn’t hate me!” Harry gave what he hoped was an intimidating glare. “And if I need to win the Triwizard Cup for that to happen, then that’s what I’m going to do.” He spun around and stepped over the two limp bodies, the voice of Cedric Diggory trailing after him.
“I’ll be waiting for you there, Potter!”
**
Calm down, Harry. Focus. You’ll never make it out alive if you don’t keep it together.
It was a lot easier said than done, since he was simply furious. Harry had practically saved the boy’s life, and gotten his head bitten off in gratitude. He swept all his guilt since Valentine’s Day aside, and replaced it with how much he hated Cedric Diggory, and how badly he now needed to win the tournament. Miraculously, he was able to gather enough of his wits to answer the Sphinx’s riddle, and suddenly found himself closer to the Triwizard Cup than he ever would have believed possible. He could take it. He could win.
That, of course, was when Cedric bloody Diggory hurtled into the path ahead of him and began his mad dash to the cup. White-hot fury flooded Harry’s gut…
…then vanished at the sight of the massive creature clawing through the hedge.
“Cedric! On your left!”
In the ensuing battle with the giant spider, Harry and Cedric fought together, their petty animosity utterly forgotten. Even when the beast fell and Harry realized the full extent of his injury, he just couldn’t call forth any more loathing towards his unscathed opponent. There was only the vague bitterness of defeat.
“Take it, then,” he panted. “Go on, take it. You’re there.”
But Cedric, being the git that he was, hesitated.
“You take it. You should win. That’s twice you’ve saved my neck in here.”
“That’s not how it’s supposed to work,” Harry snapped. “The one who reaches the cup first gets the points. That’s you. I’m telling you, I’m not going to win any races on this leg.”
Cedric fixed him with a burning stare. “No.” He started walking away from the cup with exasperating determination, and Harry was in far too much pain to deal with this idiotic Hufflepuff pride. Cedric had beaten him to Cho, he had beaten him to the cup, and right now Harry wanted nothing more than to get Cedric Diggory out of his life forever.
“Stop being noble. Just take it so we can get out of here.”
Cedric walked right up to where Harry supported himself against the hedge, and without warning, grabbed both his shoulders roughly. “No! I don’t want the cup anymore!”
“Well then what the hell do you want?”
Cedric froze and his whole body tensed. Harry couldn’t understand why he looked so anxious, so conflicted, so hungry when victory stood only a few meters behind him. All he knew for sure was that his leg hurt like hell, his rival was being an irritating prat, and he couldn’t place the insistent déjà vu jabbing painfully at his brain.
If he could, he would have been less surprised when Cedric leaned down and kissed him.
And at once, it was so achingly familiar that Harry nearly whimpered before shoving the boy away. Cedric stumbled back without breaking eye contact, whispering, “Sorry,” without sounding sorry at all. Harry aimed his wand at Cedric’s throat.
He quickly raced through any number of unlikely scenarios. Cedric couldn’t possibly have consumed anything within the past ten minutes. The Imperius Curse? Polyjuiced Fleur? Some sick joke? Or maybe it wasn’t a person at all. Maybe this was the maze’s final and most challenging obstacle.
“Just take the damn cup,” Cedric hissed through his teeth.
Well, it wasn’t a very good obstacle. Harry frowned in concentration. If it were Fleur, she’d still be snogging him. And although he had plenty of enemies, who on earth would risk using an Unforgivable Curse just for that? Which left only two reasonable explanations: Cedric Diggory had a very warped sense of humor, or Cedric had… that is, Cedric had wanted…
Harry’s wand reluctantly lowered under the force of crashing awareness. His voice sounded small compared to the blood rushing past his ears. “Cedric?”
“Look, I know I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m well aware that you’re pining after my ex-girlfriend and all, but I really don’t give a fuck what you think about me at this point. You already hate my guts, right? So then just take the cup and get this over with, and you can show everyone how fucking brave you are, and everyone will love you again just like you wanted. I don’t even care anymore. I’m done caring about this bloody miserable tournament!”
The bitterness dripped poisonously off of Cedric’s words, and Harry could suddenly see more vividly than ever his hand closing around the handle of the Triwizard Cup. He saw the whole school cheering for him, and Cho smiling at him, and Ron congratulating him, and Malfoy scowling, and Dumbledore beaming, and all the enthusiastic adoration… and it would all be meaningless because it wasn’t deserved. He would always know he had taken an easy win while Cedric had risked everything and lost. The vision crumbled before him, and all he saw were Cedric’s grey eyes, smoldering in challenge.
And Harry suddenly realized he couldn’t ever live with the knowledge that he had shown less courage than a Hufflepuff.
He stumbled forward, oblivious to the complaints from his shaking leg, and wrapped his arms around Cedric’s neck as he pressed his lips to that angry mouth. Cedric recoiled in shock. Then his eyes fluttered closed and his arms slid around Harry’s waist, and it was, well, it was good. A few seconds in, and it was better than good - it was brilliant. And as Cedric rubbed his back and slipped his hot tongue between Harry’s teeth, it was far better than that, something well beyond his vocabulary. It was the rush of Valentine’s Day without the terror; it was Cho Chang’s smile finally directed at him; it was snogging Fleur while conscious. And all of those stray thoughts of the past few months fell easily into place as Harry realized he wanted this. Cedric suddenly moaned, which somehow made Harry moan, and all other thoughts quietly dissolved.
A few minutes passed, and Harry pulled breathlessly away. “Don’t ever accuse me of being a coward.”
Cedric merely blinked, looking far too confunded to retort. He marveled at Harry’s flushed cheeks and swollen lips and green eyes. “Do you want to take it together?” he breathed.
For a moment, Harry considered the forgotten trophy. Then he grinned. “Bugger their cup. I say we already won.”
Epilogue
When the day came for the students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to leave for their respective homes, Harry was secretly relieved. He stood outside with Ron and Hermione watching the farewells, and trying to keep his eyes from where Cedric stood laughing amidst his usual circle of friends. He smugly recalled the looks those friends had worn when he and Cedric emerged from the entrance of the maze, Harry limping and Cedric supporting him and both of them giggling like the keepers of an inside joke.
Of course, it had been quite a shock when Mad-Eye Moody actually went mad, attacking them right in front of Dumbledore. But fortunately the Headmaster dealt with the situation promptly: the imposter was discovered, the true Moody was rescued, and no one was harmed in the end.
His thoughts were interrupted when Victor Krum parted from the crowd and began making his way towards them. But instead of whisking Hermione away, he turned to Harry, who tried not to cower.
“I vas talking to Diggory, and I vish to say sorry. I vas wrong to believe in rumors. It is my hope that ve can still be friends.” The corner of his mouth lifted and he stuck out a strong hand, which Harry hesitantly shook, trying not to blush. Hermione and Ron had identical confused expressions, although Hermione’s was quickly shifting to one of surprise. Fortunately, before she could open her mouth, Krum asked, “Could I have a vord?” and led her back through the crowd.
“What was that all about?” Ron asked.
“Remind me to talk to you later,” Harry mumbled as he spotted Fleur approaching. He tried hiding behind Ron, who was simultaneously trying to step in front of Harry. Fleur merely held up a hand to stop their scrambling.
“Do not worry,” she said. “I ‘ave already spoken to Cedric, and I will not try to kiss you. I come to apologize for my behavior during ze tournament. It must have been ze stress, for I assure you I am not normally comme ça. Perhaps we can still be friends, non?” She smiled politely and offered a respectful hand, which Harry respectfully shook, once again trying not to blush under Ron’s questioning gaze. “We will see each uzzer again, I think. Au revoir, ‘Arry! Au revoir, Ron!”
Ron looked startled, but then slowly grinned as he watched Fleur glide away. Harry was glad for this momentary distraction, thinking nervously of the interrogation that would commence once Hermione had returned. He fired an angry glare at Cedric, who returned it with a lewd wink, and Harry smiled despite himself.
Ron still had a faraway look in his eye when he said, “I guess things didn’t turn out too bad after all, huh?”
“Better than you know,” Harry replied.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Cedric/Cho, Cho/Roger, Fleur/Cedric, Fleur/Harry, Hermione/Krum
Mentions of: Fleur/Roger, Harry/Cho, Ron/Hermione, Ron/Fleur, Harry/Hermione, Harry/Ron
Oh Yeah, And: Harry/Cedric
Warnings: some snogging, some language, some silliness
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and friends did not come from my head.
Summary: Feeling miserable after the Yule Ball, Harry and Ron decide to take matters into their own fumbling hands.
Author’s Note: I had fun writing this, so hopefully it’s fun to read! I also threw in some art at the end, being an illustrator by trade. So yes, enjoy, and happy Hallmark Day!
The Unexpected Tasks
Prologue
“This sucks.”
It wasn’t eloquent, as Ron rarely was, but Harry thought it summed things up rather nicely. The Yule Ball had left both of them feeling fairly miserable, and there was no hope left of enjoying the remainder of their holiday. Harry for one was far too busy thinking of good hexes he could throw at Cedric Diggory in the corridors without getting caught. Ron, on the other hand, kept grumbling darkly about Victor Krum, which Harry was smart enough to ignore. They lounged on their respective beds staring blankly at the ceiling.
“We’re wizards,” Harry complained listlessly for the umpteenth time. “We shouldn’t have to deal with this sort of stuff. Why isn’t there a spell that’ll make a witch interested in you, or at least get her to realize the person she’s with is an absolute git?”
“Well, there’s always love potions,” Ron said with a shrug.
Harry abruptly sat up, his entire demeanor already shifting. “They exist?”
Ron nodded. “I know Fred and George have mentioned it, you know, for their joke shop. It’s supposed to make the drinker fancy you or something. It’s really complicated though.”
But Harry’s brain was already whirring. “I bet we could do it. We managed to make Polyjuice Potion in our second year, right?” The fact that Hermione had done most of the work conveniently slipped his mind. “We should do it! Cho’s never going to give me the time of day otherwise, not with pretty-boy Diggory around!”
“Yeah,” Ron said, his face slowly lighting up. “You reckon I could sneak some to Fleur?”
Harry hesitated. “I don’t see why not,” he lied.
“That’ll show her,” Ron added under his breath while Harry feigned temporary hearing loss.
Harry insisted they waste no time, and that evening, as Hermione studied in her dormitory, Harry and Ron snuck off to the library to look up Amortentia. Finding it was almost insultingly easy, although the instructions themselves were not.
“Blimey,” said Ron as they read it over. “I’m not sure it’s worth it. It takes an entire month and a half to brew.”
“At least we have all the ingredients,” Harry pointed out enthusiastically. “And a month and a half isn’t so long.” Sudden inspiration struck him as he did the math. “We’ll have it just before Valentine’s Day! We just sneak it into some chocolates and send them anonymously - it’s perfect!”
Ron eventually agreed, and they spent the next several weeks forgoing essays in favor of their own personal extra credit. It all seemed well worth it as the final day arrived and they both peered eagerly into their respective cauldrons. Harry’s smelled vaguely of treacle tarts and broomsticks, a surprisingly rich, pleasant aroma. He had a difficult time pulling himself away to inspect Ron’s concoction, which was giving off the delicate scent of burnt flowers.
“Mine doesn’t look like yours,” Ron noted, frowning. “It’s all thick, and I’m not sure what mother-of-pearl is, but I don’t think this is it.”
“It doesn’t look too off. At least the steam is spiraling a bit, and mother-of-pearl is a bit vague, yeah? Reckon it’s safe to use?”
Ron considered it, then shrugged. “Guess it won’t hurt to try.”
Act I
Valentine’s Day arrived, and at the first chance he got after classes, Harry ducked into an empty classroom to pull out his map. It didn’t take him long to locate Cho Chang’s tiny dot, which was wandering around somewhere on the same floor, and, he noted with an excited jolt, without the accompaniment of Cedric Diggory. Heart fluttering, he hastily put the map away, and turned so he could go bump into Cho “accidentally.” But as he started towards the door, Cedric himself rushed in.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Harry.”
“Er, why? Is this about the tournament?”
“I think we both know what this is about,” Cedric growled as he moved closer.
Oh, Merlin, he found out about the potion! Harry slowly backed off a few paces, his hand hovering over his wand just in case. “Look,” he pleaded, “don’t be angry…”
But Cedric took a few long strides and Harry bumped up against the wall as Cedric grabbed his wrist. His eyes blazed savagely, and he was breathing heavily. Harry had expected him to be upset, but now that the boy was inches from his face he looked downright irrational. Harry cringed, listening for the curse that would finally disqualify him from the tournament altogether.
“How could I ever be angry at anyone so perfect?” Cedric breathed into his ear.
Harry went wide-eyed with comprehension.
“Harry,” Cedric gasped. “You have beautiful eyes…”
“Cedric, NO-”
A wet mouth clamped down on Harry’s, Cedric Diggory’s mouth, and Harry’s insides screamed in panic. Cedric had pinned him to the wall with his full strength, which was considerably more than Harry’s, his hand still tightly gripping Harry’s wrist, and any attempts to squirm or kick or push were useless. Harry’s brain was quickly clouding over in terror. He tried not to think about Cedric’s tongue being forced past his own shocked lips, or the way Cedric smelled, or the strange noises he was making, and desperately glanced at the classroom door in hopes of someone coming to his rescue.
Cho Chang stood there, her jaw on the ground.
Harry screamed into Cedric’s mouth, which made Cedric moan, which somehow made Harry moan, and by the time he opened his eyes again, Cho was gone. Harry redoubled his efforts to escape, but Cedric seemed to take it for eagerness because he leaned in harder and his free hand moved from where it was pinning Harry’s shoulder to stroke his chest. Harry shuddered involuntarily. He just couldn’t think, especially when that hand began moving all over, caressing his waist, rubbing circles on his hip, coming back to his rib cage with a desperate fervor that was strangely tender. And the kiss was invasive and aggressive and bloody scary, but Cedric was clearly no stranger to snogging. His tongue was carefully doing things Harry didn’t know tongues could do, and every time it touched his, cowering in the far recesses of his mouth, a small jolt zipped down his spine. Suddenly, Cedric pressed his entire body against Harry’s, and Harry’s brain threw up a white flag. There was nothing he could do. Cedric would snog all the oxygen out of him, which at least explained the vertigo, and there was nothing he could do but oblige.
As if on cue, the kiss began to slow. A shadow passed over Cedric’s glazed features, and Harry could feel him frowning. With a startled cry, Cedric pushed him away and took a giant leap backward.
“What the fuck did you do, Potter?”
Harry slowly sank to the floor, his knees buckling under him, and covered his face with his hands. His excuses came out muffled and trembling. “I didn’t… I just… it wasn’t meant for you…”
“I can’t believe it - you gave me a bloody love potion, didn’t you?” The rage written all over Cedric’s face certainly looked different from what Harry had assumed was rage earlier.
“Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t go eating things that aren’t yours!” Harry spat defensively.
“Wait… wait a minute, was this for Cho?”
Harry hid his face once more, which was answer enough. “It wasn’t supposed to work like that, though,” he muttered. “I just wanted her to be interested in me or something. Not attack me!”
“Harry,” Cedric sighed, frustration quickly replacing his anger. “Love potions don’t work like that. They make the victim obsessed, not interested. You can’t genuinely start any kind of relationship that way” - his eyes flashed - “especially one with my girlfriend! Next time, before you try some new spell or potion that’s well beyond your year, do us a favor and do the research first, will you? We’re both just lucky you brewed it correctly.”
Harry looked up at that. “What happens if you don’t?” he asked warily.
“Well, the person still becomes obsessive, but not towards the potion maker. They’ll just latch on to whoever’s convenient. And the effects don’t wear off nearly as quickly.” Harry looked distinctly distraught at this news, and Cedric exhaled forcefully, running a hand through his dark hair. “Look. This could have been a lot worse. At least no one walked in on us or anything, right?”
There was a pause. Harry stared past Cedric’s shoulder and opened and closed his mouth several times before finally making a choking noise that sounded vaguely like “Cho.”
Cedric’s face went white, and without another word he turned and bolted from the classroom.
**
Harry entered the Great Hall a little while later to find Cedric already hunched over the Hufflepuff table with no Cho in sight. Luckily, Cedric was too caught up in his own distress to notice him, and Harry quickly scrambled across the Hall to join a dejected Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors.
“Where’ve you been?” he asked. Harry quickly related his strange encounter with Cedric in hushed tones, although leaving out some very glaring details. Ron flushed as he listened to the effects of a faulty potion.
“Blimey, you don’t think- ”
Harry cut him off, staring incredulously at the door. Cho Chang had just walked in with a very loud giggle, and her arm snaked tightly around the elbow of Roger Davies. Roger looked confused but pleased as they sat down at the Ravenclaw table together and Cho continued to chat in a very obviously flirtatious manner. At least, if it were obvious to Harry, he assumed it must be obvious to everyone else. One guilty glance at the Hufflepuffs told him that it was certainly obvious to Cedric, whose pained expression turned to pure venom when he met Harry’s gaze. Harry coughed, and picked up the nearest Daily Prophet to hide behind.
“What the hell was that all a-“
Harry looked up with trepidation to find out what had interrupted Ron this time. There, framed in the doorway to the Great Hall and radiating a majestic fury, stood Fleur Delacour. For a few minutes, she merely glared daggers into Cho Chang’s back while the boys around her swooned. It took a full minute until Davies finally spotted her with a small, frightened noise, and Cho spun around. Having their attention at last, Fleur brought herself to her full intimidating height, sashayed over to the Hufflepuff table, quickly straddled the bench, and crushed Cedric Diggory’s face under the weight of her lips.
Cedric immediately went limp. Harry’s entire face went up in flames.
There was dead silence in the Great Hall as everyone watched the spectacle. Eventually a smug-looking Fleur disengaged her mouth from a dumbfounded-looking Cedric, and a handful of students broke out into cheers.
“It’s official,” Ron muttered as the cheering dissolved back to normal conversation. “I hate Valentine’s Day.” Harry agreed with a groan.
Act II
The next night, Harry swallowed his pride and took Cedric’s hint about the egg. It was partly desperation, and partly a secret wish to bump into Cedric so he could apologize profusely and avoid being murdered. He didn’t see Cedric that night, however, and didn’t catch glimpse of him for the rest of the week, although breathing underwater soon superseded all other concerns.
He did run into Cho late one night as he was leaving the library. She shoved him against the wall with Quidditch aggression and hissed, “You stay away from him, Harry Potter. He’s a good kid. He doesn’t need that.” She stalked off, leaving Harry blinking in confusion.
**
The morning of the second task found Harry shoving an unknown plant into his mouth at the edge of the Black Lake, and the romantic entanglements he had recently caused couldn’t have been further from his mind. He was much more concerned over trusting his life to a house elf who had frequently endangered him in the past. Thankfully, Dobby’s gillyweed literally worked like a charm, and he quickly set off into the lake’s depths.
Seeing four unconscious students serenely floating in the murky water was eerie enough. The fact that three of them were Ron, Hermione, and Cho was even more disconcerting. Harry’s waterlogged brain tried to piece it together: Ron was his to rescue according to Dobby, Hermione was probably there for Krum, and the little girl was the spitting image of Fleur. But that left Cho for Cedric, and as far as he knew, the two of them weren’t even speaking anymore. Cho was still glued to the elbow of Roger Davies, and Cedric had been mysteriously absent at meals, especially if Fleur wasn’t.
Harry put this speculation off to the side as he got to work releasing Ron, then waited for the other champions to arrive. Cedric Diggory was the first, the bubble that distorted his features barely hiding his dismay at the sight of Cho Chang patiently awaiting him. He threw Harry a dark look before cutting her loose and whisking her away. Feeling increasingly nervous, Harry swam over to rescue Hermione, but before the merpeople could rebuke him, a strange creature with the body of Krum and the head of a shark snapped at him and swam off with Hermione himself. Harry hesitated before rescuing Fleur’s sister, but really, she was the hostage least likely to get him into any more trouble. With a great deal of effort, he brought the two of them to the surface.
As soon as Harry scrambled onto the bank, a blanket was thrown over his shoulders, immediately followed by Hermione’s arms. She rapidly explained how worried she had been, how stupid he was for taking the egg literally, and how well or poorly the other Champions had performed. Harry wasn’t really listening. He shivered under his blanket watching Cedric who was brooding off to the side looking at Cho. Cho was ignoring him in favor of eyeing Harry and Ron in turn with suspicion. Krum also glared at Harry distrustfully, and wasted no time in pulling Hermione away to have a private word. Fleur took this as her opportunity to saunter up to Harry, her younger sister clutched closely to her side.
“You saved ‘er,” she said with glowing eyes. “Even though she was not your ‘ostage.”
“I helped,” Ron offered, but Fleur didn’t seem to hear him.
Harry wanted to explain that her sister hadn’t needed saving to begin with, but before he could gather his thoughts, Fleur clutched his face with both hands and snogged him full on the lips.
Harry blacked out.
When he came to, Fleur was reluctantly pulling away to hear the judges’ scoring while Harry tried remembering how to breathe. There were voices in the air speaking about “moral fiber” and “tied for first,” and he had a lot of trouble following the words through the haze. When he finally understood what had happened, he turned and grinned blearily at Cedric, who was searing holes into the side of his face with a look of intense jealousy.
Harry turned to Ron to ask what Cedric’s problem was. He immediately snapped out of his reverie when he found himself faced with the exact same expression.
So much for having his best mate back.
**
Rita Skeeter’s latest expose came out a week later while Harry sat with Hermione at the Gryffindor table over breakfast. Ron was no longer speaking to either of them. Hermione perused the article with disinterested amusement, scoffing every now and then at its claims.
“Oh please, Harry, you and me in a relationship? No offense of course, but you’re not really my type… and using a love potion? Who would be stupid enough to actually use one of those?” Harry threw a meaningful look at Ron, who was busily engaged in a Quidditch debate at the other end of the table. “Oh, this is the best part, listen: ‘Harry Potter, reeling in the wake of this latest rejection, seems to have turned to none other than fellow Triwizard Champion Fleur Delacour of the Beauxbatons school. Is this merely a rebound? Or will the exceptionally beautiful Fleur show him the love and devotion for which his poor heart so desperately yearns?’”
“Will you put that thing away?” Harry snapped, shooting another look at Ron’s back.
Hermione smirked, but upon seeing Harry’s expression changed her tone. “Don’t take it so personally Harry. Not everyone is thick enough to believe this rubbish. Cho doesn’t.”
A small bubble of hope welled in Harry’s chest. “Really?”
Hermione nodded sagely. “Earlier, I overheard her telling her friends that she knew for a fact the two of us were never an item. She also said that Fleur was wasting her breath on you. Then she mentioned something about feeling sorry for Ron, though I can’t imagine why.”
She returned her attention to the article, missing Harry’s mortified attempts to sink under the table.
The next few months passed painfully. People quoted Rita’s latest to Harry wherever he went, and despite Hermione’s assurances, it seemed that everyone believed it. Everyone, that is, except Cho, who continued to spread veiled hints that Rita Skeeter didn’t have her story straight. Ron was being even more stubborn than usual, and Hermione was spending many long hours with Victor Krum, who didn’t seem too keen on leaving her alone with Harry. To top it all off, Harry was using most of his energy just trying to avoid Fleur, who licked her coma-inducing lips whenever she saw him. Since he no longer had his map, his invisibility cloak was seeing a lot more use than usual.
The one person who didn’t seem intent on doing him harm was Cedric, and this made him feel worse than anything. After all, he was the only one whose hatred Harry actually deserved. But Cedric seemed content to ignore him entirely, and on the few occasions when Harry caught his stare from across the Great Hall, it scorched, but not with anger. Then Cedric would turn back to laugh with his many friends and admirers, and Harry was always left wondering if he had simply imagined it.
Act III
The day of the third task finally dawned, and Harry was struck by a painful realization: he would be trapped in a maze for an indefinite period of time with two powerful wizards who hated him, and an even more dangerous witch who was in love with him. He tried to be optimistic about it, thinking of the many dark creatures that would likely be putting him out of his misery within the first ten minutes.
Hermione wouldn’t hear it. “You’re being ridiculous, Harry. They’ll be much more interested in finding the cup than finding you. Just… use what we practiced and… oh, please be safe!” She hugged him painfully hard.
“Yeah, good luck mate,” Ron added with a pat on the back. He had recently conceded that it was possibly his fault that Fleur had become an unstoppable, potion-addled snogging enthusiast.
Harry muttered some sort of response and dragged himself to the entrance of the maze. He and Cedric shared an odd look before diving in and splitting paths.
Things went well at first - certainly better than he could have hoped. Harry seemed to be avoiding most of the obstacles of the maze (including his competitors) and the few he did stumble across had been just within his abilities. He was mentally patting himself on the back for recognizing and defeating that boggart when he turned a corner and found himself at another dead end. He really hated this stupid maze. But before he could retrace his steps, Cedric Diggory came barreling around the same corner, nearly knocking him over. There were a lot of insincere apologies and avoiding of eye contact.
“Dead end,” Harry pointed out.
“I can see that.”
“Yeah. Well.”
“Salut, garçons!”
Cedric and Harry whipped around. Fleur was smiling treacherously at each of them in turn, and Harry was suddenly finding it very hard to breath.
“Ah, what is zis? My two favorite boys in a secret meeting? And what are we talking about? Ze task?” She swept closer. “Or perhaps something else? Perhaps someone else?” She took another step forward, while Harry and Cedric inched back, weakly lifting their wands. “Mais, qu’est qu’il y a?” she innocently inquired, licking her lips as she sized them up.
Before they could properly defend themselves, Fleur’s smile vanished and she crumpled to the earth. Behind her, now blocking their escape route, glowered Victor Krum, and Harry gripped his wand more firmly as Cedric lowered his.
“Hey, thanks. You’ve no idea-“
“Cedric! Get down!”
Instinct took over as Harry knocked Cedric to the ground, narrowly avoiding the Cruciatus Curse that flew past Cedric’s ear. He aimed his own stun from where he had landed, hitting Krum squarely in the chest and sending him flying into the hedge and out of consciousness. Harry lay there for a few moments willing his breath and heartbeat back to a normal pace.
“Thanks,” a voice from underneath him grunted.
Harry quickly scrambled to his feet. “Forget it.” He brushed himself off and feigned composure, feeling a sudden surge of solidarity with the older student. “I just can’t believe Krum would do that… and I can’t believe he tried to attack you instead of me!”
“Well if he went spare, I’m sure you had something to do with it,” Cedric murmured.
Harry blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What do you think it means?” he suddenly roared, his whole body trembling. “You fuck everything up, Potter! This could have been a decent year for me, then you had to come along with your bloody good intentions and take away my title, my girlfriend, you nearly get me tortured…”
“Oh yeah, because that was my fault, just like when I cheated so I could risk my life in some sodding competition I don’t even care about! You think you’ve been having a bad year? I don’t know what he’s got against you, but Krum thinks I’m having an affair with Hermione, while my best mate thinks I’m having an affair with Fleur, and the girl I actually fancy has been telling everyone I’m having an affair with my best mate!”
“Oh, Merlin forbid anyone soil Harry Potter’s pristine image!” Cedric snapped bitterly.
“I don’t even care what people are saying! It would just be nice for once if someone in this bloody school didn’t hate me!” Harry gave what he hoped was an intimidating glare. “And if I need to win the Triwizard Cup for that to happen, then that’s what I’m going to do.” He spun around and stepped over the two limp bodies, the voice of Cedric Diggory trailing after him.
“I’ll be waiting for you there, Potter!”
**
Calm down, Harry. Focus. You’ll never make it out alive if you don’t keep it together.
It was a lot easier said than done, since he was simply furious. Harry had practically saved the boy’s life, and gotten his head bitten off in gratitude. He swept all his guilt since Valentine’s Day aside, and replaced it with how much he hated Cedric Diggory, and how badly he now needed to win the tournament. Miraculously, he was able to gather enough of his wits to answer the Sphinx’s riddle, and suddenly found himself closer to the Triwizard Cup than he ever would have believed possible. He could take it. He could win.
That, of course, was when Cedric bloody Diggory hurtled into the path ahead of him and began his mad dash to the cup. White-hot fury flooded Harry’s gut…
…then vanished at the sight of the massive creature clawing through the hedge.
“Cedric! On your left!”
In the ensuing battle with the giant spider, Harry and Cedric fought together, their petty animosity utterly forgotten. Even when the beast fell and Harry realized the full extent of his injury, he just couldn’t call forth any more loathing towards his unscathed opponent. There was only the vague bitterness of defeat.
“Take it, then,” he panted. “Go on, take it. You’re there.”
But Cedric, being the git that he was, hesitated.
“You take it. You should win. That’s twice you’ve saved my neck in here.”
“That’s not how it’s supposed to work,” Harry snapped. “The one who reaches the cup first gets the points. That’s you. I’m telling you, I’m not going to win any races on this leg.”
Cedric fixed him with a burning stare. “No.” He started walking away from the cup with exasperating determination, and Harry was in far too much pain to deal with this idiotic Hufflepuff pride. Cedric had beaten him to Cho, he had beaten him to the cup, and right now Harry wanted nothing more than to get Cedric Diggory out of his life forever.
“Stop being noble. Just take it so we can get out of here.”
Cedric walked right up to where Harry supported himself against the hedge, and without warning, grabbed both his shoulders roughly. “No! I don’t want the cup anymore!”
“Well then what the hell do you want?”
Cedric froze and his whole body tensed. Harry couldn’t understand why he looked so anxious, so conflicted, so hungry when victory stood only a few meters behind him. All he knew for sure was that his leg hurt like hell, his rival was being an irritating prat, and he couldn’t place the insistent déjà vu jabbing painfully at his brain.
If he could, he would have been less surprised when Cedric leaned down and kissed him.
And at once, it was so achingly familiar that Harry nearly whimpered before shoving the boy away. Cedric stumbled back without breaking eye contact, whispering, “Sorry,” without sounding sorry at all. Harry aimed his wand at Cedric’s throat.
He quickly raced through any number of unlikely scenarios. Cedric couldn’t possibly have consumed anything within the past ten minutes. The Imperius Curse? Polyjuiced Fleur? Some sick joke? Or maybe it wasn’t a person at all. Maybe this was the maze’s final and most challenging obstacle.
“Just take the damn cup,” Cedric hissed through his teeth.
Well, it wasn’t a very good obstacle. Harry frowned in concentration. If it were Fleur, she’d still be snogging him. And although he had plenty of enemies, who on earth would risk using an Unforgivable Curse just for that? Which left only two reasonable explanations: Cedric Diggory had a very warped sense of humor, or Cedric had… that is, Cedric had wanted…
Harry’s wand reluctantly lowered under the force of crashing awareness. His voice sounded small compared to the blood rushing past his ears. “Cedric?”
“Look, I know I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m well aware that you’re pining after my ex-girlfriend and all, but I really don’t give a fuck what you think about me at this point. You already hate my guts, right? So then just take the cup and get this over with, and you can show everyone how fucking brave you are, and everyone will love you again just like you wanted. I don’t even care anymore. I’m done caring about this bloody miserable tournament!”
The bitterness dripped poisonously off of Cedric’s words, and Harry could suddenly see more vividly than ever his hand closing around the handle of the Triwizard Cup. He saw the whole school cheering for him, and Cho smiling at him, and Ron congratulating him, and Malfoy scowling, and Dumbledore beaming, and all the enthusiastic adoration… and it would all be meaningless because it wasn’t deserved. He would always know he had taken an easy win while Cedric had risked everything and lost. The vision crumbled before him, and all he saw were Cedric’s grey eyes, smoldering in challenge.
And Harry suddenly realized he couldn’t ever live with the knowledge that he had shown less courage than a Hufflepuff.
He stumbled forward, oblivious to the complaints from his shaking leg, and wrapped his arms around Cedric’s neck as he pressed his lips to that angry mouth. Cedric recoiled in shock. Then his eyes fluttered closed and his arms slid around Harry’s waist, and it was, well, it was good. A few seconds in, and it was better than good - it was brilliant. And as Cedric rubbed his back and slipped his hot tongue between Harry’s teeth, it was far better than that, something well beyond his vocabulary. It was the rush of Valentine’s Day without the terror; it was Cho Chang’s smile finally directed at him; it was snogging Fleur while conscious. And all of those stray thoughts of the past few months fell easily into place as Harry realized he wanted this. Cedric suddenly moaned, which somehow made Harry moan, and all other thoughts quietly dissolved.
A few minutes passed, and Harry pulled breathlessly away. “Don’t ever accuse me of being a coward.”
Cedric merely blinked, looking far too confunded to retort. He marveled at Harry’s flushed cheeks and swollen lips and green eyes. “Do you want to take it together?” he breathed.
For a moment, Harry considered the forgotten trophy. Then he grinned. “Bugger their cup. I say we already won.”
Epilogue
When the day came for the students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to leave for their respective homes, Harry was secretly relieved. He stood outside with Ron and Hermione watching the farewells, and trying to keep his eyes from where Cedric stood laughing amidst his usual circle of friends. He smugly recalled the looks those friends had worn when he and Cedric emerged from the entrance of the maze, Harry limping and Cedric supporting him and both of them giggling like the keepers of an inside joke.
Of course, it had been quite a shock when Mad-Eye Moody actually went mad, attacking them right in front of Dumbledore. But fortunately the Headmaster dealt with the situation promptly: the imposter was discovered, the true Moody was rescued, and no one was harmed in the end.
His thoughts were interrupted when Victor Krum parted from the crowd and began making his way towards them. But instead of whisking Hermione away, he turned to Harry, who tried not to cower.
“I vas talking to Diggory, and I vish to say sorry. I vas wrong to believe in rumors. It is my hope that ve can still be friends.” The corner of his mouth lifted and he stuck out a strong hand, which Harry hesitantly shook, trying not to blush. Hermione and Ron had identical confused expressions, although Hermione’s was quickly shifting to one of surprise. Fortunately, before she could open her mouth, Krum asked, “Could I have a vord?” and led her back through the crowd.
“What was that all about?” Ron asked.
“Remind me to talk to you later,” Harry mumbled as he spotted Fleur approaching. He tried hiding behind Ron, who was simultaneously trying to step in front of Harry. Fleur merely held up a hand to stop their scrambling.
“Do not worry,” she said. “I ‘ave already spoken to Cedric, and I will not try to kiss you. I come to apologize for my behavior during ze tournament. It must have been ze stress, for I assure you I am not normally comme ça. Perhaps we can still be friends, non?” She smiled politely and offered a respectful hand, which Harry respectfully shook, once again trying not to blush under Ron’s questioning gaze. “We will see each uzzer again, I think. Au revoir, ‘Arry! Au revoir, Ron!”
Ron looked startled, but then slowly grinned as he watched Fleur glide away. Harry was glad for this momentary distraction, thinking nervously of the interrogation that would commence once Hermione had returned. He fired an angry glare at Cedric, who returned it with a lewd wink, and Harry smiled despite himself.
Ron still had a faraway look in his eye when he said, “I guess things didn’t turn out too bad after all, huh?”
“Better than you know,” Harry replied.