Title: Sound of the Revolution, Chapter 06
Author: kevo
Pairing: Harry + Cedric.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership to these characters or the series they’re from.
Summary: In his fifth year, Harry faces ostracism with boyfriend Cedric for coming out and for declaring Voldemort has returned. (Order of the Phoenix canon re-write.)
Author’s Note: Well. I’ve been exceptionally busy for the past month, because I decided to do a second Disney College Program. (I know, what’s wrong with me?) But after attending a soft open for the Wizarding World of Harry Potter today (!!!!), I decided it’s about time I post Chapter Six for ya’ll!
(
A Lack of Color - Chapter One)
(
A Lack of Color - Chapter Thirty)
(
Sound of the Revolution - Chapter One)
- - - - - - - - -
(
Sound of the Revolution - Chapter Five)
The Love So Green Collection
Playlist #2:
sound of the revolution
CHAPTER SIX
“I’d Start a Revolution”
“Hermione thinks I should teach Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
The statement slipped out of Harry unintentionally. He was running a hand over Cedric’s bare chest, combing his fingers through the modest patch of hair there, as they lay on their old familiar couch in the Room of Requirement, basking in the intense afterglow of their shared orgasms. It had been several weeks since their confrontation following Harry’s first round of detention with Professor Umbridge. Since that night, things had gotten much better between the two boys. Although they couldn’t see each other as much as Harry would have liked, they always made good use of the time they did have.
“Does she now?” replied Cedric idly. “That’s not a bad idea. You’d be great at it. But don’t you want to be an Auror?”
“I do,” said Harry. “She didn’t mean as a career, she was talking about doing it now. Like as a club or something. I could instruct other students. You know, because of how lousy Umbridge is.”
“Hm,” Cedric said after a prolonged silence.
“What?”
“It’s a radical concept,” Cedric answered vaguely. “When did she come up with this?”
“After my last detention with Umbridge,” Harry replied.
Following his first outburst in the new teacher’s class, Harry had worked very hard to keep his frustration with her lessons and her lies in check. He took to maintaining a stony silence whenever in her presence, no matter what she said. He came close to talking back a few times, like when Umbridge took five points from Gryffindor for Hermione voicing her opinion about their textbook, only then he found that he didn’t have to; Ron beat him to it. The usually docile redhead came at once to Hermione’s defense, an act that earned him his own week’s worth of detention. Judging from the way Hermione tended to Ron’s wounded hand every night after he returned from the professor’s office, it may have actually been a blessing in disguise.
It was the next day, during Umbridge’s inspection of their Care of Magical Creatures class, when Harry got his next and so far last detention with her. She was inquiring about injuries sustained in previous years, and Malfoy was quick to chime in about the incident involving him and Buckbeak the hippogriff. Harry commented to Ron and Hermione about how Malfoy was only attacked because he was too stupid to follow instructions, not realizing he was in earshot of the toad-like woman. It hadn’t occurred to him that the remark was a detention-worthy offense, or that she could even give detentions in a class that wasn’t her own.
“Hermione was in a rage that night about how awful she is,” Harry went on. “She said it’s one thing to be a horrible person, but to be a bad teacher on top of that is intolerable.”
“Yeah, that does sound like something Hermione would say,” Cedric chuckled.
“I know, right?” agreed Harry. “So she kept going on and on about how we have to be prepared for what’s coming and we need someone who can really, properly teach us. And then she says it’s me that should do it. Next thing I know, she’s got Ron in on it as well, and the two of them are, like, coming at me from both sides. And they’re listing off all the things that’ve happened to me over the years, like they’re accomplishments or something.”
“Well - ” Cedric paused, nibbling his lip pensively. “Now, don’t get mad, but, aren’t they? All the stories you’ve told me, the stuff you’ve been through; the troll in the girl’s room, the Sorcerer’s Stone, giant spiders, the Riddle diary, a fleet of dementors. They’re all amazing.”
“I was lucky,” Harry said flatly. “Or I had help. Every time. Like in the Chamber of Secrets. If Fawkes hadn’t showing up with the Sorting Hat and Gryffindor’s sword, I would’ve died down there.”
“But you were still a twelve-year-old boy fighting a basilisk, Harry!” Cedric countered. “Even after the phoenix blinded it, it’s a giant snake! And you killed it! And what about those dementors? You told me, and so did Hermione, there were dozens of them. Dozens!”
“That was - you know -” Harry stammered for an explanation, growing more agitated by the second. “It was the Time Turner! If I hadn’t known that I could do it, I would never have -”
“Come on, Harry, that’s ridiculous,” Cedric cut in. “If you didn’t have the power to do it in the first place, you couldn’t possibly have done it, time paradox or not. The fact is, you have faced You-Know-Who, and a number of other things, many times, and survived! What are you doing?”
Harry had leapt off the couch and was scrambling to yank his clothes back on furiously.
“I can’t believe I’m having the same argument twice,” he muttered, fastening his trousers. “Especially with you. I thought that you, of all people, would understand!”
“Why me?”
“Because you almost died, Cedric!” Harry shouted, stopping to look his boyfriend square in the eye. “Ron and Hermione, they’ve never been there for the worst of it. They’ve never had to face Voldemort or a fleet of dementors or an army of Death Eaters. But you were there that night, and you were nearly killed because of it. It’s only by some miracle that you weren’t. If I hadn’t guessed what was going to happen, if I hadn’t been fast enough, you would be - you wouldn’t be here right now.”
He held Cedric’s gaze for a beat, letting his words sink in, then broke it. Harry returned to pulling his socks back on, a difficult task to accomplish while standing.
“So yeah,” he mumbled, “I thought maybe you’d understand.”
“Harry, please stop.”
Cedric sat up, covering his privates modestly with their blanket, and reached for Harry as the younger boy was putting his arms through the sleeves of his button-down shirt. Harry let Cedric draw him back down onto the couch without resistance, having lost some of his steam after venting.
“I’m sorry,” Cedric said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I know how difficult that stuff was for you, I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.”
“And I know you weren’t,” replied Harry. “I know Hermione and Ron weren’t either. I snapped at them, too, when they said pretty much the same things. They dropped the subject after that, but not until Hermione made me promise I’d talk to you about the idea.”
He took a minute to gather his thoughts before speaking again.
“All the things you and Hermione and Ron have brought up, these things I’ve done… It’s not like it’s something you can teach. When you’re facing real danger, it doesn’t matter how many spells you’ve memorized. You can barely think, you’re so busy just trying to stay alive. All you can do is react, and hope your instincts are good enough. You can’t teach that. You can’t teach someone what it’s like to face death.”
“Maybe not,” Cedric yielded. “Maybe that isn’t something you can teach, but at least you can give students the tools they need to be more prepared. The way things are going, kids won’t be able to defend themselves against the most minor jinxes, let alone a full-on attack.”
“I know,” said Harry.
“Forget all the crazy stuff that’s happened to you for a moment, all right?” Cedric proposed. “Pretend it’s not even a factor. You’re still the best in your year at Defense Against the Dark Arts. It’s a fact. You might even be the best in the entire school for that matter. Isn’t that proof enough that you can do this?”
“I suppose…”
“And you won’t be doing it alone,” Cedric reminded him. “You’ll have Ron and Hermione backing you up.”
“And you,” Harry said. “You should be a part of it. You were Hogwarts champion, too. The real one, I don’t care what you say. And you’re a seventh year, so you know loads more than I do.”
“I could be your assistant,” Cedric grinned.
“My lovely assistant,” Harry rearticulated. He smirked. “Does that mean you’d have to do whatever I tell you to?”
“You say that like I don’t already,” Cedric laughed. “So, you’ll give it a go, then?”
“Yeah, okay,” Harry conceded. “I’ll try, anyway. We don’t even know if anyone will be interested yet.”
O O O O O O O
“Of course they’ll be interested,” Hermione insisted the next day when she, Harry, Ron and Cedric all met in the library. “I can’t imagine anyone is satisfied with Defense right now. They’re probably as desperate to learn the real thing as we are.”
“Sure, Hermione,” said Ron, rolling his eyes. “Everyone is desperate for more learning.”
Where usually the girl would have shot him an evil look for his snide comment, this time her glare was ruined by tiniest hint of a smile coming through. Ron gave her a wide grin in response. Harry wondered if something else had happened between the two of them without his knowledge.
It was almost funny, the way they were keeping their budding heterosexual romance a secret while they’d been privy to most details of Harry’s relationship with a boy from day one. Only Harry didn’t find this funny as much as irksome, and kind of insulting. He’d trusted them both with what was, for a long time, his most closely-guarded secret. He didn’t want to pressure either of them into revealing anything before they were ready, but their silence was becoming insufferable.
“She is right about one thing, though,” Ron went on. “People will definitely be interested. You’re all anyone can talk about most days. I bet people will be queuing up out the door.”
“Gee, hadn’t thought about that,” Harry admitted, anxious and annoyed at the same time. “Thanks, Ron.”
“We’ll make sure the number doesn’t get to big,” Hermione assured him. “And that only people who are legitimately concerned about Defense will be there.”
“A few of my dorm mates have said they’d come,” Cedric threw in. “They’re big guys. They can take care of anyone who shows up to make trouble.” He rubbed Harry’s shoulders comfortingly. “Relax. It’s going to be fine.”
“Sure,” said Harry, although his apprehension was hardly abated. “So when are we doing this, anyway?”
“I was thinking we could use the first Hogsmeade weekend,” Hermione answered. “We’ll tell everyone to meet us there so we can discuss it.”
“Why not just do it here in the school?” Ron asked. “Then we wouldn’t have to wait.”
“I think I know why,” Cedric offered. “Umbridge won’t be too happy about group that countermands her method of teaching and, by extension, anyone who participates in it. If we do this in the village, she’s less likely to find out about it, and therefore she’s less likely to squash it before we can even get started. Am I right?”
“You are,” Hermione confirmed.
“Hermione Granger: rule-breaker,” Ron remarked. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“I’ve broken rules before,” she argued.
“Yeah,” Ron agreed, “but not like this.”
“It’s not rule breaking, anyway,” Hermione continued unperturbed. “It’s simply finding a way to circumvent the rules to ensure no complications arise. We’re not technically doing anything wrong, but it’s worth taking precautions to be certain that Umbridge doesn’t make things difficult for us.”
“Fine, fine, rule-circumventer, then,” said Ron. “Still unlike you, or even you, Cedric.”
“I don’t get the same thrill out of it that your brothers do,” Cedric said. “But it needs to be done. Students need to be taught practical defensive magic, not just theoretical.”
With a shake of his head, Ron pronounced, “You really are the boy version of Hermione sometimes.”
O O O O O O O
The first Hogsmeade weekend came upon Harry with alarming rapidity. Normally the trips served as a nice distraction from the tedium of classes and homework. Harry could’ve used something like that, especially with the way September had gone. Thanks to the Defense recruitment meeting, however, the village trip was looking to be anything but relaxing.
Winter weather was already starting to chase the warmth of summer away by the first weekend of October, and students needed to bundle up more than usual for the long march down to the neighboring village. Harry, Ron and Hermione met Cedric in the entrance hall that Saturday morning to walk to Hogsmeade together.
“You’re lucky,” Harry informed his boyfriend, eyeing the strip of black and yellow wool wrapped around Cedric’s neck. “You can cover your scar with a scarf or a turtleneck sweater.” He tapped the zigzagging scar on his own forehead. “Mine’s always right there.”
“You could wear a hat,” Cedric suggested. “Or grow your bangs out.”
“Ohhh, don’t grow your hair out,” Hermione cautioned. “I think it’d look awful.”
“Hat it is, then,” Harry declared as they started down the stone front steps. “I don’t think it would do me much good at this point. Everyone at Hogwarts knows who I am anyway, even without seeing my scar.”
“In a few years, maybe,” said Cedric. “After you graduate. With a hat covering your scar, and without your glasses, you may not be as easily recognized.”
“That would be nice,” Harry admitted.
“Uhh, you two are holding hands,” Ron observed.
“…Yeah,” said Harry, glancing down at his and Cedric’s intertwined hands. “Why? Are you suddenly going to go all Seamus on me?”
“Oh please,” said Ron. “The number of times I’ve walked in on you two snogging, I’d’ve said something like that way before now. I only meant that we’re going to be in public and all.”
“And practically everyone in the wizarding world knows we’re a couple already,” Harry countered.
“Maybe he’s right,” Cedric suggested timidly.
“Oh c’mon!” Harry protested. “I spent all summer walking around Little Whinging with Cedric, not allowed to behave in any way boyfriendly. I’m not suggesting we snog in front of the whole village, but I think we’re entitled to a little hand-holding, don’t you?”
Though he still seemed uncertain, Cedric nodded and did not release Harry’s hand.
“I hope Padfoot doesn’t show up,” Harry said as they walked, recalling the night his godfather’s head showed up in the Gryffindor common room’s fire.
“You suppose he will?” asked Ron.
“Dunno,” replied Harry. “I wouldn’t put it past him, especially with how restless he’s been cooped up in that house. He probably won’t. I think I really upset him that night when we spoke.”
“Don’t you start feeling guilty, Harry,” Hermione chided. “You did the right thing telling him he shouldn’t come.”
“No, I know,” Harry said. “I know that. Still. The thing he said about my dad…”
“Was completely out of line,” Hermione interrupted. “‘The risk would’ve been what made it fun for James.’ How childish. He should be encouraging you not to take unnecessary risks. Especially now that Vuh-Voldemort’s back.”
“I just thought of something,” Cedric chimed in. “If we’re caught with him, would that make us accomplices? There’s probably a penalty for that.”
“I… I guess it would,” Hermione answered, seeming to realize this for the first time herself. “I’d have to consult a few things before saying for certain, but it does sound accurate.”
“So he’s not only risking his freedom by coming out here, but ours too,” Cedric continued. “Even yours, Harry.”
“I don’t think he sees it that way,” Harry said. “It probably doesn’t even occur to him that he might be caught.”
“That’s sort of the problem, isn’t it?” said Hermione.
“You know, I can’t blame him wanting to get out of that house, with only a screaming portrait of his mum and a crotchety house-elf for company,” Ron opined.”But I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Dumbledore would be furious if he left headquarters, and he listens to Dumbledore. Anyway, there’s no way he’ll stay angry for long.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well,” said Ron, “you’re all he’s got.”
That uncharacteristically insightful statement left the group silent the rest of the way to Hogsmeade. Harry was aware of how much he needed his godfather. The thing he hadn’t stopped to consider was that his godfather might need him, too. Harry’s time at Hogwarts hadn’t entirely washed away the decade of neglect that preceded it, and the idea of someone relying on him, thinking of him as family, was still a foreign one.
The village was already bustling with students by the time the foursome arrived. There were a few odd looks at the two teenage boys holding hands. Harry ignored them and held on tighter.
“Shall we go straight to the Hog’s Head then?” Cedric asked, his voice strained.
The way his eyes kept darting around told Harry he was aware of the stares they were getting, too. He gave the boy’s hand a comforting squeeze.
“It won’t be long before people start showing up,” Hermione replied. “We may as well.”
The Hog’s Head, Hermione and Cedric had agreed, was far enough off the usual beaten path of Hogsmeade that it would ensure a decent amount of privacy for their business. Once inside, Harry could see why they’d never come there before. It was decrepit and dirty and had the faintest aroma of something that Harry could only equate to a barnyard. Still, it was their best option, a thought that did little to hearten any of them.
“Do you think Cho will come?” Harry wondered as they sat at a rickety wooden table. “You told her about it, right?”
“Don’t know,” Cedric replied. “I mean, yes, I told her, but I can’t say whether she’ll be here. I haven’t seen her much since we got back. She’s always busy with her girlfriends.”
To Harry’s left, Hermione made a small “hmm” noise that caught his attention. Glancing at her, he saw her lips were pursed, as though she had something to say on the matter but was deciding to keep it to herself. A moment later the bar’s door opened and other students began filing in, so Harry didn’t have a chance to question Hermione about what her behavior meant. He made a mental note to ask later.
Nearly everyone who came was familiar to Harry. The majority were Gyrffindors, including his entire year (except Seamus), the girls from the Quidditch team, the Weasleys and Lee Jordan, of course, and both Creevey brothers. (Harry was almost certain Dennis wasn’t old enough be in Hogsmeade and wondered to what lengths the Creeveys were willing to go in order to be near him.) There were also some Hufflepuffs, including Cedric’s mates, and a few Ravenclaws. Harry smirked at Fred chatting up Michael Corner. Cho came, too, with some girl Harry hadn’t seen her with before. She gave him an unusually tight smile in greeting.
As soon as everyone was settled, Hermione began speechifying. She started out timidly but rapidly grew in conviction, with Harry, Cedric, and, less frequently, Ron all piping in when it was required of them. For the most part people just listened attentively. Except Zacharius Smith, however, who threw out the occasional snide, skeptical remark. It took Harry a while but he eventually recognized him as the boy who tried to trip him last year when his name came out of the Goblet of Fire.
In the end, it was agreed upon by all: Harry would teach them Defense Against the Dark Arts. No one could come up with a good suggestion for a place to meet, but Hermione and Cedric didn’t seem too worried. They all left in the same groups they’d arrived in, except Fred and Michael who slipped off on their own. Cho looked as if she wished to stay behind for a moment, but her friend rushed out and Cho followed after.
“I think that went well,” Hermione declared as they too left the Hog’s Head.
“That Zach bloke is a real asshole,” Ron groused.
“Yeah, he’s always been like that,” said Cedric. “Shame, too, ‘cuz he’s actually rather attractive.”
“If only he could keep that mouth shut,” Harry bemoaned.
“I could think of a few ways to keep his mouth otherwise occupied,” Cedric smirked.
“Very funny,” Harry said, nudging his boyfriend playfully. “If you’re looking to become suddenly available for him, you’re heading in the right direction.”
“Relax, you know I’d want you to join in the fun,” Cedric assured him.
“Oh, well in that case…” said Harry, grinning as he pondered the lascivious scenarios the suggestion conjured.
“Excuse me, could you refrain from plotting your threeways while Hermione and me are out in public with you?” Ron requested. “Or, y’know, while we’re anywhere with you?”
“Oh, let them be,” Hermione said. “I need to stop Scrivenshaft’s anyway, so why don’t you join me and leave them to their, er, plotting.”
“Sure,” Ron replied, going suddenly pink in the ears. “See you guys later.”
“If those two don’t figure this thing out between them soon, I’m going to…” Harry paused. “Okay, there isn’t really much I can do. Unless, is killing them both an option?”
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” said Cedric. “Once the papers find out they’ll just blow it all out of proportion. And then you’ll end up… being… worse off…”
Cedric’s comment remained incomplete. He was staring in shock at something across the road. Harry followed his gaze to find Cedric’s mother, Ruth Diggory, approaching them at a steady pace.
“I was hoping I’d find you,” she said to her son upon reaching him. “I wrote the school to find out what weekends the Hogsmeade visits were.”
“What are you doing here?” Cedric demanded sharply.
“I said, I wanted to find you,” Mrs. Diggory replied. “I thought we could talk. Can we go somewhere? The Three Broomsticks maybe?”
“Fine,” Cedric responded. “But Harry is coming, too.”
“All right,” she said after a moment’s pause. “Come on then.”
Mrs. Diggory led the way up High Street. As they walked, Harry could feel waves of fear and anxiety rolling off of Cedric, so strong it nearly made Harry nauseous. It didn’t help that Cedric’s feelings of apprehension were compounded by Harry’s own.
“Cedric, I don’t have to come with you,” he whispered. “You should talk to your mum.”
“And I’m going to, but I want you there with me,” Cedric insisted. More quietly, and more desperately, he added, “Please, Harry. I can’t do this alone.”
“Okay,” said Harry. “I’ll stay.”
He patted the older boy’s arm, finding it awkward displaying affection in front of Mrs. Diggory, even if she wasn’t watching. They entered the Three Broomsticks, which was less crowded so late in the afternoon. Cedric’s mother sent the boys to find seats while she got them all drinks. She located their table and passed Cedric and Harry a butterbeer each. Harry took out some money to offer her, but Mrs. Diggory waved it away.
“Oh, don’t be silly,” she said. “Put that away.”
“Thank you,” Harry said politely, slightly red with discomfiture.
“So,” said Mrs. Diggory. “How’s school?”
“‘How’s school?’” Cedric scoffed. “After all this time, that’s really all you have to say? ‘How’s school?’”
“Cedric, please. Don’t be like that.”
“Fine,” said Cedric petulantly. “You want to know how school is? Awful. The Ministry put that foul Umbridge woman at Hogwarts and she’s working her tail off - yes, I suspect she actually has a tail - to make life miserable for me and Harry and the rest of the students. The same students, by the way, who almost all think we’re crazy after everything the Prophet has been saying about us.”
“Okay, you’ve had a lot to deal with,” Mrs. Diggory said. “I get it.”
“No, you really don’t,” Cedric shot back. “Why did you come here?”
“I already told you, I wanted to talk -”
“But why?” demanded Cedric. “Why now? I haven’t heard from you since… since that day I picked up the rest of my things. And even then we didn’t speak.”
“I tried to speak to you, and you know that,” Mrs. Diggory said.
“No, you told me to apologize to Dad for storming out,” Cedric replied, “disregarding the fact that he’s the one who started the fight to begin with. And then he ignored me that day when I saw him before my hearing -”
“He never told me about that -”
“- so I felt practically like I’d been disowned -”
“No one ever disowned you!” Mrs. Diggory broke in. “How could you even say that? We’re having problems right now, yes, but we still love you very much. No one made you leave our home that night, you know. It was your choice.”
“Because you made staying so appealing,” Cedric sniped.
“We’re adjusting, Cedric,” said Mrs. Diggory. “That’s why I’m here, it’s why I’m trying.”
“And what about Dad?” Cedric asked. “Why isn’t he here, trying?”
“Your father… is having a bit more trouble adjusting than I am,” Mrs. Diggory replied. “This isn’t the kind of life we imagined for you, none of it. We want you happy -”
“I am happy -”
“And we want you safe,” she finished. “Can you blame us for that?” She sighed. “I wonder if things might’ve been easier if you weren’t -”
“What?” said Cedric. “Weren’t gay?”
“Merlin no, you being gay is the easiest part of all this,” said Mrs. Diggory, with tone bordering on levity. “Your father still would’ve needed time, but he’d’ve come to terms.” Her eyes briefly subtly to Harry, then back to her son. “No, I-I meant… If you two weren’t involved.”
Suddenly, Harry wished he hadn’t given in to Cedric’s plea to join them.
Off Cedric’s grim expression, Mrs. Diggory continued, “Now, before you start, look at everything that’s happened. You were nearly killed last June -”
“That wasn’t Harry’s fault!” Cedric cut in.
“Fine then, what about that night in August?” Cedric’s mother tried again. “That never would’ve happened if it weren’t for - if you two weren’t together. And that scar, Cedric. You have a scar on your neck, just like his. Merlin, I’m terrified for you. Are you a target now? For You-Know-Who?”
“He’s not,” Harry chimed in. Mrs. Diggory’s gaze snapped back to him, and Harry shrank under her stare. “Sorry, I don’t mean to… As far as we can tell, Cedric isn’t in any danger. No more than anyone else, that is.”
“Anyone else in your life, you mean,” Mrs. Diggory added. Harry hadn’t considered how true the statement was until she pointed it out to him. “How can you be sure? He keeps coming after you. How do you know for sure that he won’t come after Cedric now?”
“Voldemort and I have some sort of link,” Harry said, choosing his words carefully. He didn’t want to tell Cedric’s mother any more than he had to, or anything that might worry her unduly. “That’s why he’s after me. It does have something to do with my scar.”
“But mine isn’t like that,” Cedric jumped in quickly. “Mine’s not connected to him, only Harry’s is.”
“Right, Cedric’s only connects him and me to each other,” said Harry.
“How d’you mean?” Mrs. Diggory inquired.
“Well, it -” Harry turned to Cedric, whose gaze was fixed on his own hands folded in his lap. “You didn’t tell her?”
“One of you’d better tell me,” said Mrs. Diggory.
“Our scars, they are connected somehow,” Harry explained. “It’s not the same way mine already was with Voldemort, not exactly. Cedric and I can feel each others’ emotions. Sometimes it’s just barely, and others it borders on mind-reading. But even through that, he has no link with Voldemort. We’re certain about that.”
“Trying to follow all of this is doing my head in,” Mrs. Diggory said, rubbing her forehead.
“You should see what it’s like in mine,” Harry muttered.
“You’re a fifteen-year-old boy, and you’re dating my son. I’d rather not see what’s in there, thanks,” replied Mrs. Diggory. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so blunt with you, Harry. I know how much you’ve been through and it breaks my heart, because you genuinely seem like a nice boy. And I know you make my son happy. If it wasn’t for all this excess, the calamity and the danger, I’d like to think I could be happy for you both. But as a mother, I can’t help being concerned.”
“I understand, Mrs. Diggory,” said Harry, calm if a little dejected. “I worry myself, sometimes, that I might be wrong for Cedric. I don’t blame you for hating me.”
“I don’t hate you, Harry,” Mrs. Diggory said kindly. “I just hate what could happen to my son for being with you.”
A deep silence fell over the table. Cedric appeared to be shell-shocked, too much to even speak.
“I think we’d better go,” Cedric said at last, getting up from the table. Harry followed his lead. “We need to be getting back to school.”
“Yes, of course,” Mrs. Diggory replied, rising as well. “I understand. Before you go…”
She dug through her purse, producing a small pouch that she then handed to her son. Cedric accepted it hesitantly.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Your birthday is coming up,” Mrs. Diggory reminded him, and Harry’s stomach dropped because he’d nearly forgotten all about it. “It would’ve gone toward your present but, given the circumstances… Perhaps you’re old enough to be buying something for yourself, anyway.”
“Thanks,” said Cedric, staring down at the pouch of coins in his hand. “Tell Dad I said… I don’t know, tell him I said hi, I guess.” He turned to go, but looked back to add, “On second thought, don’t tell him I said anything.”
With a final, cordial nod toward Mrs. Diggory, Harry followed Cedric out of the Three Broomsticks. Once they were a good distance down High Street, he took Cedric’s hand. Cedric squeezed back firmly.
“How’re you doing?” Harry asked.
“I’m fine,” Cedric replied. “I wasn’t prepared for that to happen today, but I’ll be fine. Distract me?”
“Well my standard methods are sort of useless at the moment, at least until I get you back to the Room of Requirement,” Harry teased. “Umm, we could start planning our first Defense meeting. Then again, there’s little point since we don’t even have a place to hold it yet.”
“I’ve just had thought about that, actually,” Cedric admitted.
“And?”
“And I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Cedric replied, throwing an arm across Harry’s shoulders.
End Notes: Hope the ending isn’t too abrupt for anyone. Cedric’s idea should obvious to anyone who’s actually read/seen HP5. And if you haven’t, what are you doing reading this fic, anyway? :P
The bit about a Harry/Cedric/Zacharius threesome was mostly in jest, but I do wonder what people would think if I actually did include a threesome in this story. It wouldn’t become a smut!fic; real, committed couples have them all the time. Just a thought I had…
Hermione telling Harry his hair would look awful grown out is me having a go at Daniel Radcliffe’s hair in HP4. I hated that hair. His best hair is HP3 and HP5.
Also, I just want it stated for the record that, in my head, Cedric’s mum is played by Catherine Tate. She’s too brilliant. You’d think I’d have the red-headed Doctor Who vet be Mrs. Weasley, but no. For me, Mrs. Weasley is Camille Coduri. Hands down. Tell me Jackie Tyler wouldn’t shout “Not my daughter, you bitch!” She practically has!
As I said above, I’ll be living and working in Florida for the summer, until mid-August. Which means I don’t know how much writing time I’m going to have. (I work, on average, 50 to 55 hour weeks.) But I live 10 minutes from The Wizarding World of Harry Potter, so it’s hard to feel guilty. (The Forbidden Journey is too intense for words, and butterbeer actually made me and my husband sick. Except the slushie version. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.)
Okay, these notes are officially too long! I’ll be back, I swear. This story means too much to me not to finish. -kevo
Continue to Chapter Seven