Dream to Me

Monday, 31 October 1994

Somehow, Harry made it up the stairs to the Tower. He passed through the portrait hole and bee-lined for Hermione, not even noticing the entirety of Gryffindor House crowded into the common room to celebrate his being selected as a Champion.

Hermione was sitting on a couch in the corner of the room and Harry all but crashed into the cushions next to her, lovesick, soppy grin plastered on his face. He finally came to when a pillow came down over his head, “Harry James!” Hermione yelled, snapping her fingers in his face.

“Hermione Jean!” Harry yelled back, still grinning, “what?”

“I’ve been calling your name for a full minute, what happened,” she said, staring at him like he’d lost his mind, “wait, don’t tell me, Diggory?”

All Harry could do was nod before twin terrors dropped onto the couch on either side of him, “what about Diggory?” Fred asked from Harry’s right.

“Harry came in grinning like a loon, and it has something to do with Diggory,” Hermione said, quickly filling them in.

“Did he believe you that you didn’t put your name in?” George asked. He’d always just somehow known what Harry was really thinking. Hermione was like that too, to an extent, and Fred was good at picking up cues based on George’s reactions, but George just understood Harry in a way very few people did. It was rather lucky, actually, because Fred was the same way with Ron.

Harry grinned up at George, “yeah, he did.”

“That’s not all though,” George said, staring Harry down, “something else happened.”

“Maybe,” Harry said, grin coming back in full force.

“Oh, Merlin,” Fred sighed, “we have to talk to Diggory now don’t we.”

“I believe we do, Freddie,” George said, though he was grinning back at Harry.

“What happened?” Hermione interrupted, “what am I missing?”

“He kissed me,” Harry whispered. Her squeal gave him a 0.5 second warning before he had a lapful of Hermione.

“Where’s Ron?” Harry asked once he got air back in his lungs, looking around the room. He spotted Neville, Seamus, and Dean in one corner who all waved at him when he caught their eye. Neville looked concerned and Harry gave a miniscule shake of his head that Neville easily understood to mean we’ll talk later. But Ron was nowhere to be seen.

“Ah,” Fred said, clearing his throat.

That was all it took for reality to come crashing down.

Ron didn’t believe he hadn’t put his name in. Actually, most of the school didn’t believe he hadn’t put his name in. It was like 2^nd year all over again, Harry withdrew from everyone except Hermione, Neville, Fred, and George.

* * *

Saturday, 5 November 1994

It had been nearly a week since Cedric had kissed Harry and now he couldn’t as much as catch the younger boy’s eye across the Great Hall. Cedric was about ready to corner Harry and (calmly) demand an explanation when he was unceremoniously shoved into an abandoned classroom.

He’d hardly had time to notice where he was before he heard the incantations for a locking and silencing charm. He was momentarily worried that he was about to be attacked when he realized it was the Weasley twins and calmed down, then he realized it was the Weasley twins and got anxious all over again.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, doing his best to cover up how nervous this situation was making him.

One of them, he’s pretty sure it was Fred, sighed and looked toward his twin, “he’s your brother, you explain.”

“What do you mean?” Cedric asked, “is something wrong with Ron?”

“No,” the second twin said, “Harry.”

“Brother?”

“We’ve all but adopted Harry.”

“Right but then why would he only be your brother?”

“Ah,” the second twin said with a nod, “I can see why that would be confusing, Freddie claimed Ron and I claimed Harry,” so this is George, Cedric thought, trying to subtly analyze the two to find differences now that he had a clear indication of which was which for the moment, “they tend to get into rather explosive spats so it’s just easier if they both have a brother to turn to, also Harry and I think alike and Fred and Ron think alike so it just works.”

“Got it,” Cedric said with a nod, “what’s the problem with Harry? I was just thinking about going to find him to talk to him.”

“Don’t do that,” George said, voice brokering no argument.

“Why?” Cedric asked, rather thrown off by George’s tone.

George sighed before gesturing to a clump of desks. Once they’d all sat down, he began to explain, “I’m not sure what all you know about Harry’s home life, but he didn’t grow up loved and spoiled like we were all led to believe.”

“He’s mentioned that in passing,” Cedric said, “but I think I’ve put together most of the story from other off-handed comments and things I’ve observed.”

“I’m sure you have,” George said, “but what I’m getting at is that because he didn’t grow up loved, he’s been conditioned to believe that he has to earn love and that he deserves to be mistreated. The problem right now is that the entire school has turned against him. He knows in his head that you believe him, that he didn’t put his name into the Goblet, but Ron, his closest friend, doesn’t believe him and has been rather outspoken about that. Ron is mostly just jealous which is something we’re working on, but he’s also stubborn as all hell so it’s going to take something big for him to admit he’s wrong. But, because of that, Harry is having a hard time believing that anyone believes him. He’s all but gone mute except for with Hermione, Neville, and the two of us.”

“I really think everything will be alright after the first task,” Fred cut in, “I think that whatever it is will be dangerous enough that Ron will realize there’s no way Harry got himself into this and then he’ll apologize and everything will be fine. But the reason we’re talking to you is to warn you that if you push Harry he’ll push back. We like you and we like how happy you make Harry, we don’t want whatever is happening between the two of you to be ruined because you never got the chance to understand how he works, so we’re telling you how he works.”

“Let him come to you,” George suggested, “I’m sure he will. He’s started responding when Dean talks to him which is normally the next step. If he starts speaking without being spoken to, we’ll suggest he seeks you out.”

“You two know him really well,” Cedric said, slightly awed.

“He’s our little brother,” George said with a shrug.

“That doesn’t mean the same thing to everyone,” Cedric said with a sigh.

Fred and George shot each other a look, they knew of Matthew Diggory, he’d been Bill’s roommate, but they didn’t actually know him.

Cedric saw their look and decided it’d be easier to just explain, “Matt helps when I ask but he doesn’t actually understand me. He’s a good brother but he’s not my friend, not in the way that I can tell all of you are friends with each other. You took Harry and Hermione under your wing no questions asked because they mattered to Ron. You’re good brothers, they’re all lucky to have you.”

“Thanks,” Fred said, both sad for Cedric and his brother and touched that Cedric had noticed how much they cared for their younger siblings.

“We want this to work out,” George said, “you can ask us questions if Harry does something you don’t understand. But, at the same time, know that if you hurt him we will thoroughly destroy you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Cedric said with a laugh, “thank you for telling me all of this, I absolutely would’ve pushed him and I don’t want to inadvertently hurt him or push him away.”

“You’re a good guy, Diggory,” Fred said, patting Cedric on the shoulder as he stood up.

George took one last look at Cedric before nodding and following his brother out of the room, as he reached the door, he looked over his shoulder and said, “be good to him, Cedric.”

* * *

Monday, 21 November 1994

“Cedric,” Harry said, stepping up to the bench Cedric was laying on in the Transfiguration Courtyard, surrounded by his friends, “can I talk to you a minute?”

Cedric nearly threw himself off the bench at the sound of Harry’s voice. He waved off his friends and followed Harry to an alcove near the entrance.

“Hey,” he said, using every last ounce of his will power to not reach out and pull Harry into a hug. He’d barely seen him since Halloween and was taking the opportunity to drink in his appearance. Bright green eyes, messy black curls, honeyed skin, soft pink lips…

“Dragons,” Harry said, snapping Cedric out of his reverie, “the first task is dragons.”

“What?” Cedric said, his thoughts screeching to a halt.

“Dragons,” Harry repeated, speaking quickly, “they’ve got four, one for each of us, and we’ve got to get past them.”

Cedric just stared at him and Harry saw some of the panic he’d been feeling since Saturday night flickering in those beautiful blue gray eyes.

“Are you sure?” Cedric whispered.

“Dead sure,” Harry said, “I’ve seen them.”

“How did you,” Cedric started before shaking his head, Harry had some way of just knowing things that no one could figure out, “never mind, do the others know?”

“Yes,” Harry said, nodding his head, “I know that Maxime and Karkaroff both saw them and I’m sure they’ve told Krum and Fleur.”

Cedric was about to ask Harry how he’d been, why he was telling him about the dragons, how he actually knew about the dragons, how everything with Ron was … anything, when they heard a familiar clunking noise coming up behind them.

“Come with me, Potter,” Moody growled, “Diggory, off you go.”

Cedric watched as Harry stared at Moody for a moment before seemingly giving in to whatever was about to happen and following after him. He looked over his shoulder and for just a second Cedric thought he saw the same fondness and desire he’d gotten used to seeing in those green eyes but then the pair turned the corner and Cedric was left alone in the Courtyard, thoughts filled with impossibly green eyes and crooked smiles and dragons.

Harry followed Moody into his office for a conversation that sounded a rather lot like cheating but at least he had a plan by the time he made it to the greenhouse, “Hermione,” he whispered, “I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by Thursday afternoon.”

* * *

Thursday, 24 November 1994

Thursday afternoon came around far too quickly for Harry’s taste. He’d learned how to do the Summoning Charm, now it was just a matter of not getting crispy fried by dragon fire while he flew around. This was absurd. For the first time he found himself wishing he could’ve just gone to Stonewall High, there’s no shot there are dragons at Stonewall High.

Harry was walking into lunch when he saw McGonagall hurrying over to him.

“Potter,” she said, “the champions have to come down onto the grounds now. You have to get ready for your first task.”

“Okay,” Harry said, standing up to follow her out of the Hall.

“Good luck, Harry,” Hermione whispered, squeezing his hand, “you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Harry muttered, his voice hardly sounding like his own.

He left the Great Hall, following after McGonagall. She looked nearly as anxious as Hermione and Harry found himself wanting to admit that he already knew what he was facing. He probably would’ve if he thought that would make her any less anxious but, at the end of the day, she was sending her14-year-old student into a pen with a dragon after she’d been the loudest advocate for getting him out of this disaster so he rather thought nothing would make her less anxious.

“Now don’t panic,” she said as they approached the enclosure, Harry wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or herself, “just keep a cool head, we’ve got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand. The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you. Are you all right?”

Harry decided McGonagall was his new favorite. To be fair, there was very little competition (and he wasn’t counting Hagrid, because no staff member would ever beat Hagrid), but she was absolutely his favorite in this moment.

“Yes,” Harry said, trying to sound confident, trying to put both himself and his newly crowned favorite professor at ease, “yes, I’m fine.”

They approached a tent that was blocking their view of what Harry knew to be the dragon enclosure.

“You’re to go in here with the other champions,” she said, her voice still rather shaky, “and wait for your turn, Potter. Mr. Bagman is in there, he’ll be telling you the – the procedure. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Harry said. He found himself wanting to hug her but thankfully held himself back. There was a non-zero chance that she’d hex him if he hugged her. She left him at the entrance of the tent, and he went inside.

Fleur was seated in the corner on a low wooden stool. She looked rather pale and clammy. Krum looked even surlier than normal, and Cedric was pacing up and down.

When Harry entered the tent, Cedric gave him a small smile which he returned. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to walk up and let himself be folded into Cedric’s arms, but they were far from alone. So, again, he held himself back.

“Harry! Good-o!” Bagaman said, sounding incredibly happy for someone who was about to send four teenagers into a pen with mother dragons, “come in, come in, make yourself fat home!”

It was then that Harry noticed Bagman was wearing his old Wasps robes again. He looked like an overblown cartoon figure.

Now that all the champions were there, Bagman pulled out a bag and Harry had to stop himself from laughing at the fact that Bagman had become a bagman.

“I’m going to be offering you each this bag,” he said, holding up a small purple silk sack, “from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face. There are different – er – varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too … ah, yes … your task is to collect the golden egg!”

Harry glanced around the tent and saw as Cedric nodded once before returning to pacing around the tent. Fleur and Krum hadn’t reacted at all.

They listened as hundreds upon hundreds of feet entered the stands surrounding the enclosure and Harry did his best not to throw up all over his shoes.

Finally, Bagman stepped up and held out the sack, “ladies first,” he said, offering it to Fleur.

She pulled out a tiny model of a Welsh Green that had the number two around its neck. Krum went next, pulling out the Chinese Fireball which had a three on its collar. Then it was Cedric’s turn, he drew the Swedish Short-Snout with the number one which left Harry, of course, with the Hungarian Horntail and the number four.

Why, oh why, did life continue to throw insane situations Harry’s way? Is a break too much to ask for?

He was pulled out of his minor crisis by Bagman saying, “well, there you are! You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see?” Harry zoned out there, the directions were pretty clear, and he didn’t really want to listen to Bagman chatter on any longer.

He snapped back to when he heard him say, “Harry, could I have a quick word? Outside?”

“Er, yes,” Harry said, though everything in him wanted to say no.

He followed Bagman outside where he, like Moody, blatantly attempted to cheat. Harry was a bit fed up, to be honest. He was saved by a whistle somewhere and Bagman saying, “good lord, I’ve got to run,” before he hurried off.

Harry walked back to the tent just as Cedric was emerging, Harry wished him good luck and Cedric tried for a smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

Seconds later, they heard the roar of the crowd which meant Cedric had entered the enclosure. It was worse than Harry could ever have imagined, sitting there and listening. He did his best to block out Bagman’s commentary because hearing things like, “oooh, narrow miss there,” and “he’s taking risks, this one,” and “clever move – pity it didn’t work!” were not good for his nerves.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry heard a deafening roar that could only mean Cedric had succeeded. He blew out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding when he heard Bagman say, “very good indeed, and now the marks from the judges!”

They didn’t hear the scores being called out. Harry supposed the judges were probably holding them up and showing them to the crowd.

Then it was Fleur’s turn, then Krum’s, and then Harry heard the whistle indicating his time had come.

He stepped into the arena and shouted “Accio Firebolt,” and then he blacked out. He didn’t come back to reality until he was landing in front of Moody, McGonagall, Charlie, and Hagrid holding the golden egg.

His shoulder hurt but he was otherwise unharmed.

“That was excellent, Potter!” McGonagall cried as he got off the Firebolt, Harry blinked, surprised, that was rather extravagant praise from his Head of House. “You’ll need to see Madam Pomfrey before the judges give out your score. Over there, she’s had to mop up Diggory already.”

That was far from the most comforting sentence Harry had ever heard. He wanted to run into the tent and make sure Cedric was in one piece, but he was stopped by Hagrid pulling him into a hug, “yeh did it Harry! Yeh did it! An’ agains’ the Horntail an’ all, an’ yeh know Charlie said that was the wors’ -”

“Thanks, Hagrid,” Harry said, cutting him off so he wouldn’t accidentally reveal that he’d shown Harry the dragons beforehand.

Moody looked very pleased, “Nice and easy does the trick, Potter,” he said, whatever the hell that means.

“Right then, Potter,” McGonagall said, stepping in, “the first aid tent, please.”

Harry stepped into the tent and was immediately pounced upon by Madam Pomfrey. “Dragons!” she said, sounding utterly disgusted. Harry let her patch up his shoulder while she muttered about the insane things this school does to put their students in danger. She didn’t make a single point that Harry could’ve argued with, even if he’d wanted to.

He sat quietly and looked around the tent. His heart returned to a normal rhythm when he saw that Cedric was fine, just a little burned.

Pomfrey told Harry, in no uncertain terms, to sit until she released him to go get his scores but that was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to jump off the bed, grab Cedric, and drag him up to the castle or into the forest, somewhere no one could see them, and apologize profusely for pulling away after Halloween. He wanted to tell him everything that was on his mind, about how anxious he was about this tournament, about how someone was absolutely trying to get him killed, about how every thought that wasn’t about the tournament or the plot to kill him was about golden hair and grey eyes and the feeling of Cedric’s lips against his, he wanted to kiss him senseless and make sure Cedric knew, without a doubt, how much Harry liked him.

He was pulled from his thoughts by Hermione and Ron darting into the tent.

“Harry, you were brilliant!” Hermione cried. Harry could see fingernail marks on her face where she’d been clutching it in fear and her eyes looked suspiciously damp, “you were amazing! You really were!”

Harry looked to Ron, who’d gone totally white and was staring at Harry as though he were a ghost.

“Harry,” he said, sounding more serious than Harry had ever heard him, “whoever put your name in that goblet – I – I reckon they’re trying to do you in!”

“Caught on, have you?” Harry said, trying to keep his voice cold but he was sure his two best friends could hear his relief, “took you long enough.”

They stared at each other for another minute before Harry cracked a grin, “it’s okay, forget about it.”

“No,” Ron said, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have -”

“Forget it,” Harry repeated, still grinning.

Hermione burst into tears.

“There’s nothing to cry about!” Harry told her, absolutely bewildered.

“You two are so stupid!” she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears rolling down her cheeks. Then, before they could stop her, she crushed them both into a hug and then dashed away.

“Barking mad,” Ron said, shaking his head again, “Harry, c’mon, they’ll be putting up your scores.”

Harry picked up his golden egg and Firebolt, feeling more elated than he could’ve possibly believed just an hour ago. He dared one last look at Cedric and, this time, he was looking back. Harry smiled at him and Cedric lit up. Harry knew immediately that they were okay. He ducked out of the tent, Ron by his side, and stood to hear his scores.

Ron was chattering on about a party in the Tower and about what the other three champions had done, but all he could think about was finding Cedric.

They reached a spot where they could see the judges and Ron cut off his running commentary, though he voiced his opinion after each judge held up their score. He lost his mind when Karkaroff raised his wand and gave Harry a four, but Harry couldn’t have cared less, Ron’s indignation on his behalf was worth more to him than any score.

Harry looked around and realized it wasn’t just Ron and his close friends cheering, the entirety of Gryffindor House was screaming for him, along with most of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. It seems that seeing the champions go up against nesting dragons had made the school realize that they’d better just support Harry and Cedric rather than making Harry’s life a living hell.

“You’re tied in first place, Harry! You and Krum!” Charlie Weasley cheered, hurrying to meet them as they headed toward the school. “Listen, I’ve got to run, I’ve got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I’d tell her what happened – but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah – and they told me to tell you you’ve got to hang around for a few more minutes … Bagman wants a word, back in the champions’ tent.”

Harry saw this as an opportunity to catch Cedric alone, so he sent Ron on his way and headed back toward the tent. His focus was entirely on Cedric who was standing next to him, looking only slightly beat up. He had a burn on his right cheek, but Madam Pomfrey had gotten him almost entirely fixed up.

He grinned when he saw Harry looking at him, gray eyes sparkling.

“Good job, Harry,” he said.

“And you,” Harry responded, grinning back.

“Well done, all of you!” Bagman said, bouncing into the tent and launching into a spiel about the second task.

Finally, they were allowed to go and everyone started splitting off.

Harry fell into step next to Cedric. It was quiet for a minute; it seemed Cedric was going to follow Harry’s lead.

“I’m sorry,” Harry started. Cedric tried to cut him off, probably to say it wasn’t necessary, but Harry just kept talking, “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you, it wasn’t fair,” he looked around to make sure they were alone but found there were several people in ear shot, “follow me,” he said, quickening his step and heading toward the castle.

Once inside, he ducked into an alcove hidden behind a tapestry that he only knew of from the Marauder’s Map, it was unlikely this spot was common knowledge. His thought was confirmed when Cedric said, “woah how’d you know this was here?”

“Trade secret,” Harry responded with a grin before turning serious again, “I’m sorry, Cedric, I have a problem with drawing into myself when big things happen and this past month, with everyone turning against me, I just totally withdrew. It wasn’t fair to you, especially after what happened on Halloween, but I just want you to know that I’m sorry and I really, really do like you. I think I have for a long time but only just realized it at the World Cup and I hope you like me back, but if you don’t and if that kiss was just a one-time thing, I understand, but I just had to -”

He was cut off, once again, by Cedric grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss.

This wasn’t like the kiss on Halloween. It wasn’t short and sweet and testing the waters, it was the kiss of someone who knew their feelings were reciprocated. It was the kiss of someone who’d been deprived of what they wanted most for weeks.

Harry melted immediately, winding his arms around Cedric’s neck and pressing onto his toes to get as close as possible. Cedric moved one of his hands to thread his fingers through the curls at the back of Harry’s head and the other to pull Harry in by the hip.

The warmth Harry had felt spreading in his chest during their first kiss was multiplied, it spread from his chest to the very tips of his fingers and toes, it ran up his neck and colored his cheeks.

Cedric’s kiss was somehow both sweet and demanding. He held him gently and took control with his lips and tongue and teeth. He broke away and Harry nearly whined at the loss of contact, but his breath caught in his throat when Cedric’s lips started traveling down his neck before making their way back up to Harry’s mouth.

When Cedric pulled away the second time, he leaned his forehead against Harry’s and they just stood there, breathing.

Finally, after a full minute of quiet, of them just breathing and staring into each other’s eyes, Harry spoke, “so you like me back?”

“Cheeky git,” Cedric said, face splitting into a grin.

“So I’ve been told,” Harry said, grinning back.