But Now I'm Feeling it Even More
Monday, 31 October 1994
Harry was pretty sure his legs had stopped moving.
“Harry Potter,” Dumbledore repeated.
Hermione all but shoved him off the bench and toward the side chamber with the other Champions. The three of-age wixen who’d actually put their name into that godforsaken Goblet. Harry was fucked.
Not to mention that one of those three of-age wixen who’d actually put their name into the godforsaken Goblet was the guy he had a massive, life-altering crush on. Harry was, well and truly, fucked.
Harry was also rather thankful that Hermione had shoved him toward the side chamber because, if left to his own devices, he’d have sat at the Gryffindor table staring dumbstruck at Dumbledore for the foreseeable future.
Sometime between his name being called and Hermione shoving him off the bench, he thinks he’d said that he hadn’t put his name in, but he honestly couldn’t be sure if he’d said that out loud or just screamed it in his head. Why, oh why, does insane shit continue to happen to him? And on Halloween of all days? Can’t a guy mourn his parents in peace? Between trolls and death tournaments, Harry would choose a troll every time. This was getting ridiculous.
Harry made his way into the side chamber in a total stupor, though he was aware enough to realize that Dumbledore wasn’t smiling, and his eyes were certainly not twinkling. That, more than anything, was a concerning development. Harry had rather thought that was a permanent feature.
The three Champions were standing grouped around the fire. Krum was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Fleur Delacour looked around when Harry walked in, “what is it?” she asked, “do zey want us back in ze Hall?”
Harry didn’t have a chance to answer before Ludo Bagman came darting into the room. He took Harry by the arm and led him forward.
“Extraordinary!” he said, squeezing Harry’s arm, “absolutely extraordinary! Gentlement … lady, may I introduce – incredible though it may seem – the fourth Triwizard champion?”
Strangely, Harry’s first clear thought was that “Tri”wizard was a rather stupid name now.
Cedric appeared to be in shock, darting his eyes back and forth between Bagman and Harry. Fuck, Harry thought, there goes any chance I had.
Fleur was the first one to respond, “oh, very funny joke, Mister Bagman.”
“Joke?” Bagman repeated, “no, no, not at all! Harry’s name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!”
Krum looked pissed, Cedric still looked entirely bewildered, Fleur frowned, “but evidently ziar ‘as been a mistake,” she said, “e cannot compete, e is too young.”
Harry decided he liked Fleur. He really didn’t care why she was arguing that he couldn’t compete, he was just thankful that someone else had realized how absurd this whole situation was.
Bagman was muttering some utter bullshite about how Harry had to compete, and the age restriction had only been added this year when the door behind them opened and a large group entered: Dumbledore, Mr. Crouch, Karkaroff, Madame Maxine, McGonagall, and Snape.
Usually, Snape was the last person Harry would want to see in any given circumstance, but if anyone were going to argue that Harry shouldn’t be allowed to do something, it would be him.
“Madame Maxine!” Fleur called as they entered the room, “zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!”
Harry bristled at her calling him a little boy but, if he were to be honest, compared to the other three champions, he really was a little boy. They were all 17-year-old trained wizards and he was a 14-year-old Muggle raised disaster of a human being. This wasn’t going to end well.
Madame Maxine and Karakaroff immediately turned on Dumbledore, demanding an explanation at which point Dumbledore stared Harry down and asked if he’d put his name in the Goblet, no, had he had someone else put his name in the Goblet, no.
After some more argument, they all looked to Mr. Crouch for his determination. He was entirely unhelpful.
“We must follow the rules,” Crouch said, “and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament.”
“Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front,” Bagman said, as though that settled everything.
Harry found himself thinking that the rule book probably made no mention of chaos magnets who can’t seem to escape life-threatening situations, but he wasn’t about to voice that opinion.
They all kept arguing until a gruff voice said from the back of the room, “empty threat, Karkaroff, you can’t leave your champion now. He’s got to compete. They’ve all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?”
“Convenient?” Karkaroff asked, “I’m afraid I don’t understand you, Moody.”
It was clear that Karkaroff did not like Moody, no matter how much he tried to sound aloof and disdainful.
“Don’t you?” Moody said quietly, “it’s very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter’s name in that goblet knowing he’d have to compete if it came out.”
No one liked that explanation, and everyone kept yelling while Harry kept wishing he could just disappear. He zoned back in when he heard Moody say, “maybe someone’s hoping Potter is going to die for it.”
Alright, what the fuck. He’d missed something important, but he also didn’t really want to ask why, exactly, the insane ex-auror thought he was going to die. Something about Moody made Harry’s hair stand on end.
The silence in the room was almost palpable until it was finally broken by Bagman saying “Moody, old man … what a thing to say!”
“We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn’t discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime,” Karkaroff cut in and Harry took that as his cue to zone out again.
He was avoiding eye contact with everyone, staring at his shoes and, again, wishing he could just disappear. As such, he was entirely ignorant to the looks Cedric was sending him.
Cedric had gone from confused to angry in record time. Someone hoping Harry would die? Not on his watch. And Harry just looked so defeated. Cedric had no clue what to do.
Finally, Dumbledore just straight up declared that both Harry and Cedric would have to compete, and they moved on to the instruction part of the evening. The first task would take place on November the 24th, the champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers, and they’d face the first challenge armed only with their wands, also they’d be exempt from end-of-year exams.
“Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed,” Dumbledore said, smiling at both of them, “I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise.”
Harry finally glanced at Cedric, who nodded, and they left together.
The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low.
“So,” Cedric said, with a slight smile, “we’re playing against each other again.”
“I suppose,” Harry said, he couldn’t think of anything to say. His thoughts were in utter disarray.
“So, tell me,” Cedric said as they reached the entrance hall, “how did you get your name in?”
Harry was so out of sorts he didn’t notice that Cedric’s tone had edged on teasing.
“I didn’t,” Harry said, completely earnest, staring up at Cedric, almost begging him to believe him, “I didn’t put it in, I was telling the truth. You have to believe me, Cedric. I didn’t put my name in,”
“Harry,” Cedric said, trying to cut off his rambling.
“I really didn’t put my name in, Cedric, I don’t want to compete, I don’t want to be involved, you’re the Hogwarts Champion, it should be,”
“Fuck it,” Cedric said before grabbing Harry’s face and pressing their lips together.
Harry had hardly realized it was happening before Cedric pulled away. The older boy took a step back and Harry stared at him in open shock, not able to process what had just happened. Cedric started to take another step back and Harry finally shook out of his stupor, “wait,” he said, reaching out and wrapping a hand around Cedric’s tie, pulling him back in.
Harry had to press up onto his toes to reach Cedric’s lips. He’d never noticed how much taller Cedric was, Harry barely reached his shoulder.
It was a quick kiss, but at least Harry was fully aware it was happening that time.
After a moment, Harry pulled away and stepped back, releasing Cedric’s tie, “you believe me?”
“Of course,” Cedric said, as if it were that easy, as if it had always been that easy, “of course I believe you.”
“Thank you,” Harry said, smiling softly, “I don’t want to keep you from your celebration, I’ll see you around?”
“See you,” Cedric said, waving as Harry turned and headed for the stairs.
Cedric just stood there, entirely dumbstruck, as he watched Harry’s form fade into the distance.
After several minutes, he shook his head and smiled to himself as he turned toward the stairs to the dungeons. He wasn’t even slightly sure what he’d just gotten himself in to, but he couldn’t help but feel it was something great.