Paranoid Potter
Harry Potter felt happier than he had in months. For one thing, his favorite pair of socks was clean. For another, treacle tart was being served for breakfast. But the biggest reason of all was that his best friend, Ron Weasley, was speaking to him again. Also the fact that he didn’t get eaten by a dragon. That was pretty good too.
The only condition that made his life less than perfect came in the form of his arch nemesis, Draco Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy, who he had not seen for three days now. It was so unlike him. Even back in their third year when he had faked a broken arm, Draco had still made time to antagonize Harry a little. Harry didn’t buy the whole “stomach ache” story, not in the slightest. He knew there was something else going on, and he had a feeling it had everything to do with Cedric Diggory.
“Have either of you seen Malfoy anywhere?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione that morning at breakfast, his eyes trained on the vacant spot at the Slytherin table.
“He’s sick, Harry,” Hermione said, sounding sick herself - of this conversation, that is.
“No way,” Harry shook his head. “There has to be another reason.”
“He could be dead for all I care,” said Ron, shrugging. “So long as we don’t have to see his stupid face.”
Harry shook his head, annoyed that his friends did not share his intrigue regarding the whole situation. “Oh, come on, you have to admit that it’s weird!”
“It isn’t weird at all, actually,” said Hermione, her frustration mounting. “Because he’s just sick!”
“I don’t buy that for a second,” Harry said, stubborn.
“I understand why you wouldn’t trust Crabbe or Goyle’s word,” Hermione said slowly. “But even Cedric confirmed this, Harry.”
“That’s the thing! Cedric’s been acting really weird lately, and I think that he-”
“Oh let me guess,” Hermione gestured sarcastically. “You think that Malfoy was so jealous that he couldn’t participate in the Tournament that he kidnapped Cedric in the dead of night, and stole his life using some Polyjuice Potion?”
Harry stared at Hermione. “Yes, actually, I do think it’s probably something like that.”
“He. Is. Sick!” Hermione yelled, causing the surrounding Gryffindors to glance their way.
“Sick-looking,” Ron added, wrinkling his nose. Then, expression clearing he said, “Oh…look, Harry.”
Harry followed Ron’s gaze to find none other than Draco Malfoy himself striding into the Great Hall, his hair shiny and his robes ceaseless as usual.
“Guess he’s feeling better,” Ron said, sounding disappointed, as he picked at his breakfast. “I was really hoping for the whole dead thing.”
“Happy now?” Hermione asked, smugly, in her best I-Told-You-So voice.
Harry watched Malfoy as he walked to his seat and sat next to Goyle at the Slytherin table. It looked like him, alright; Pale, blonde, and pointed. And yet, Harry couldn't help but feel that something was... off.
Maybe it was the way he walked to his seat, not quite as elegantly as he usually did. Or maybe it was the way his face wasn’t overrun by an ugly scowl and instead appeared blank. Or it could have been the fact that he sat next to Goyle, but Crabbe was no where to be found.
But whatever the reason, Harry knew in his gut one single fact.
“That’s not Malfoy,” he said, utterly convinced.
Ron choked on his pumpkin juice. Hermione’s jaw dropped.
“Mate, maybe you’re the sick one. Want to head down to Madam Pomfreys?” asked Ron.
Harry sighed, exasperated that they didn't see what he saw. “Just look at him! Does that look like Malfoy to you?”
“Yes. Yes, it very much does!” Hermione exclaimed, increasingly hysterical.
“Those glasses aren’t doing much for you, huh?” Ron asked, bewildered as he glanced from Harry to Malfoy.
“He’s acting all…wrong!” Harry said, unable to find the words to explain. “That isn’t Malfoy.”
Ron and Hermione shared a look, clearly sharing the belief that Harry had gone completely insane.
“Who do you think it is?” Ron asked. “Aragog?”
Harry sent him an unamused glare. “I don’t know who it is. That’s it. I’m going over there.”
“What?” Hermione and Ron asked in unison, their eyes wide, but Harry paid them no mind.
Nothing they said could've stopped him now. Harry simply stood and marched all the way across the room, to the Slytherin table, ignoring Hermione and Ron’s futile protests behind him.
As he drew near, the Draco Malfoy look-alike scowled at him, the same scowl Harry had seen on that face for the past four years, and yet that did not stop the wrongness of it. If this were the real Draco, he would have already shouted out an insult of some sort. He would not simply scowl.
“Malfoy,” Harry greeted coldly. Not-Malfoy shared a loaded glance with Goyle.
“Potter,” he responded just like he should, and yet the way he pronounced it felt off.
“Where were you yesterday?” Harry asked, straight to the point.
By now all members of the Slytherin table were facing him, angry and astounded that he had the gall to approach them. They weren’t the only ones staring; Many students from the other tables were also watching the interaction closely.
“Sick,” grunted Not-Draco Malfoy.
Harry narrowed his eyes. A one-word response? From Draco Malfoy? It was unprecedented and only furthered Harry’s hypothesis.
“Really?” Harry asked, drawing out the word. “I don’t believe you.”
In another very wrong gesture, Not-Malfoy looked at Goyle as if to ask for help. Goyle came right to his rescue, shouting out a quick, “Your parents are dead!”
And with that insult, Goyle and Not-Malfoy stood, practically fleeing from the Great Hall.
Satisfied with his findings, Harry returned to his seat next to Ron and Hermione.
“Yeah, that’s definitely not Malfoy,” he said, positive. Ron and Hermione shared another miserable look. “If I had to guess I’d say it was Crabbe-”
“Harry!” a false-sweet voice interrupted Harry’s musings. Harry turned to see Cedric Diggory standing behind him, wearing a giant, strained smile.
“Cedric,” Harry greeted coolly, his guard up.
“Is this seat taken?” Cedric asked, clearly trying to sound charming, as he grabbed the back of Ron’s chair.
“Yes,” said Harry.
Cedric released Ron’s chair, somewhat disappointed. “Well, I just couldn’t help but see you talking to that rather handsome fourth year, Draco Malfoy. I didn’t realize the two of you were friends!”
“We aren’t,” said Harry. “He’s just been acting strangely, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.”
“Acting weird? Malfoy? No!” Cedric's voice sounded unnaturally high. “That doesn’t sound like Malfoy at all! You know, I’d wager that he’s just a little bummed out that you didn’t die yesterday during the first task.”
If Harry wasn’t sure before, he was now positive that Draco's shadiness directly correlated with Cedric's weirdness. “Yeah? I bet you’d know all about that wouldn’t you, Cedric?”
Cedric’s smile faltered, panic flashing in his eyes. “What? No, no, no! That’s how Draco feels. Not me, Cedric!”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure! In fact, I’m actually very ha-” Cedric broke off into a wheeze, unable to quite enunciate the last word. “Hap- hap-”
He broke off into a coughing fit as he choked over the word. Harry wrinkled his nose as he watched Cedric hack into the crook of his elbow.
“I think you might’ve caught that terrible sickness Malfoy has.”
“Happy!” Cedric finally got out, his eyes stinging with tears. “I am quite happy that you aren’t dead.”
“Thanks.”
“Anyways, I wouldn’t worry about Malfoy if I were you because there’s nothing weird going on with him at all and he’s actually acting very normal! Okay, bye!”
Cedric, just like Not-Malfoy and Goyle did a few moments ago, practically ran from the Great Hall.
“See what I mean?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione, who were suddenly very engrossed in their breakfast. “Every time I’ve talked to Cedric recently, he always makes it all about Draco Malfoy!”
“I agree that’s a little strange,” Hermione allowed. “But I hardly think it’s anything-”
“Oh, come on!” Harry stressed. “Isn’t it obvious? Malfoy is clearly Polyjuiced as Cedric so he can participate in the Tournament!”
“That’s ridiculous,” Hermione sniffed. “There’s no way Malfoy is competent enough to brew Polyjuice Potion.”
“Then he stole it!”
“If Cedric is really Malfoy, then who’s Malfoy?” asked Ron, dubiously.
“Didn’t I just say he was Crabbe like five minutes ago?” Harry snapped.
“Just drop it Harry,” said Hermione. “Sometimes you really let your hatred of Malfoy mess with your judgment, you know.”
Harry huffed in annoyance, but stopped arguing. He knew he was getting nowhere with the two of them, and as much as it frustrated him that they didn’t believe him, he knew he would have to solve this little mystery by himself.
“You’re right,” lied Harry. “It’s probably nothing.”
Hermione and Ron shared yet another, doubtful glance, but they said nothing.
***
“The Yule Ball is a chance for us to - er - let our hair down,” said Professor McGonagall at the end of Transfiguration that day. The girls in the class, namely Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, were giggling up a storm every since McGonagall mentioned the dance - but Harry did not see what there was to be so happy about.
He knew that this Tournament meant risking his life, and as much as he didn’t want to, he had at least come to terms with this. But he did not know that asking out a girl would be part of the criteria! Just the thought of it made him shiver with embarrassment.
“Who are you going to ask?” Ron whispered to him as McGonagall went on about how the rules still apply at the dance.
Harry knew who he wanted to ask. But actually doing it was another matter entirely.
“Oh,” said Ron, catching onto Harry's feelings without him having to say anything. “Cho?”
“Yeah.”
“Then go for it, mate,” said Ron encouragingly, giving him a slap on the back. "What've you got to lose?"
“Yeah,” said Harry, Ron's words causing a warmth to spread in his chest. “Yeah, I think I will.”
What’s the worst that could happen after all? Sure, he might embarrass himself completely. But, if things went well, he would have the chance to go to the dance with Cho Chang! That outcome sounded far too perfect to not even try for.
“She has to say yes,” said Ron, confident. “I mean, you’re famous Harry Potter! She’d be stupid not to.”
“Thanks, Ron,” said Harry, rolling his eyes fondly.
“If I were her and you asked me, I’d say yes.”
Harry gave him a look, lips twitching. “Is this your way of asking me out?”
“No, no, of course not-” said Ron quickly. “Well…unless you wanna?”
Ron wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Harry laughed.
“Potter! Weasley!” shouted Professor McGonagall sternly. “Pay attention!”
“Yes, Professor McGonagall,” they chorused dutifully, ending the conversation, but not before Ron threw Harry one last flirtatious wink.
***
Ever since the announcement of the upcoming Yule Ball, the girls at Hogwarts were acting weird. Groups of them giggled every time Harry passed by, and several of them had even tried asking him to the ball. Harry had turned them all down, however, still thinking of how to work up the nerve to ask Cho.
On his way to dinner that night, Harry passed by a large group of Hufflepuffs, and, expectedly, they began to giggle - boys and girls both. Harry tried to ignore them, but the large amount of yellow and black in his peripheral vision made Harry think of something. Or, rather someone.
He stopped suddenly. “Hey,” he spoke to the Hufflepuffs. “Have any of you seen Cedric lately?”
“He’s in bed. Said he had a tummy ache,” answered a girl with lots of acne. “Why? Were you thinking of asking him to the ball?”
Her teasing question caused the group to break out into more giggles. Harry felt himself go red.
“Of course not!” he said, but it did nothing to stop the laughter. “Oh, nevermind!”
He made to storm off, and get to the Great Hall as fast as possible but before he could even turn the corner, Draco Malfoy appeared.
Just one look at him and Harry could tell that this Draco Malfoy was, indeed, the real deal.
“Malfoy,” he stopped in his tracks. He vaguely noticed the Hufflepuffs leaving the area, no doubt with the sole desire of getting away from a Slytherin.
“Potter,” Draco's eyes glinted.
“I know what you’ve done!”
Draco scoffed. “My, oh my. Someone’s panties are in a twist, now aren’t they?”
“Tell me why is it, that you’ve been gone for days with a supposed stomach ache, and now the second you get back Cedric’s gone with the same thing?” Harry asked, jabbing an accusatory finger in Draco's face.
“What are you implying?” Draco put a hand to his heart. “That I’ve accidentally spread my sickness to poor Cedric?”
“No, that you’re impersonating him!” Harry said. “What have you done with the real Cedric?”
Draco stared at him coldly for a long moment before saying, “I think the fumes from the dragon fire must’ve messed with your head, Potter. Because you’re acting rather silly right now. I’ll have you know that Cedric’s sleeping right now, battling a terrible stomachache.”
“Funny,” Harry spat. “That you two never seem to be in the same place!”
“There is nothing funny about his stomach ache, Potter. You’d think someone with dead parents would have more sympathy for the pain of others.”
Harry made a noise of frustration, pinning Draco with a murderous glare.
“And besides,” Draco continued, with a casual shrug. “We just spoke this morning, remember Potter? At breakfast?”
“That wasn’t you,” Harry denied. “That was Crabbe.”
Draco's nose wrinkled in disgust. “I don’t look anything like Crabbe!”
“You’re insufferable!” Harry exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair. “Stop messing around, Malfoy. We both know what you’re up to. I want to know why. Why are you purposefully risking your life? Just for the money?”
Draco laughed meanly, his mouth curling. “Why would I need more money?”
“Then it must be because you wanted to see how it felt like to have people actually like you for a change.”
Draco paused, and Harry smirked triumphantly, knowing that his words must’ve affected him, if only somewhat. Then the silence was over, and Draco gave another scathing laugh.
“Change you say? No, I don’t need change, you must be thinking of Weasley.”
Harry growled in anger, and shoved past Draco without looking back. Harry knew he wouldn't be able to get him to admit the truth, no matter how hard he tried. The only thing left for him to do was to tell Dumbledore that Draco kidnapped Cedric.
But first, he made a stop to the Great Hall so he could update Hermione and Ron.
“What took you so long?” asked Hermione.
“I ran into Malfoy,” said Harry.
“I thought that wasn’t Malfoy,” said Ron.
“He is now.” Harry rolled his eyes. Ron just didn’t get it. “I’m telling Dumbledore that he’s been impersonating Cedric.”
Hermione let out a small shriek. Harry winced at the sound. “What?”
“Harry,” she whispered in a low, conspiratory tone. “You can’t tell him!”
“Why not?”
“Why not?” she repeated, as if it were crazy that Harry didn’t know. “Harry, if people start to think that Cedric isn’t really himself - which isn’t true, obviously - but even if people think it, they’ll accuse Hogwarts of cheating in the Tournament!”
“So?” Harry asked with a scoff. “Cedric’s literally been kidnapped, I think that’s the most important thing to worry about!”
Hermione took a deep breath and put her hands up as if Harry were a wild animal that needed placating. “I understand that you feel that way. But the Tournament is a really big deal in the Wizarding World. It's already bad enough with the whole, two Champions thing, but Hogwarts would be a complete laughing stock if it got out that one of our Champions was cheating! And you have to agree that…well, there’s just not any proof that your theory on Malfoy is even true.”
“It’s so obvious!” Harry said, his last-ditch effort to get her to understand.
“I know,” Hermione said gently, even though Harry knew she didn't believe him. “But you can’t tell-”
“Fine!” Harry yelled, unbelievably ticked off. “Fine, I won’t. I’ll just find Cedric all by myself.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ron started. But Harry was no longer listening, merely glaring angrily into the air in front of him, ignoring Ron and Hermione entirely.
It was just his luck that he made accidental eye contact with someone across the hall. That someone being Cho Chang of all people!
Cho’s eyes widened upon being the target of Harry’s glare, and Harry wanted to die. He stopped glaring instantly, and tried to fix the situation by smiling, but his smile looked more like a grimace.
Cho looked away from him, awkward. Harry groaned. Now how was he going to convince her to go to the dance with him?
Beside him, Ron caught on to who he was thinking about. “Just ask her,” he advised in a low voice. “It’s not that hard-”
“Easy for you to say,” Harry snapped. So much for ignoring Ron and Hermione.
“Come on, you can do it!” he urged. They watched as Cho stood suddenly, and moving to leave the Hall. “Now, before she gets away!”
“I can’t,” said Harry miserably.
“You can,” said Ron.
“I-”
“Oh for Merlin’s sake!” exclaimed Hermione, making Harry and Ron both jump. “She clearly likes you back, Harry! I mean, it’s obvious with the way she’s been looking at you lately. Just go do it already and stop moping around!”
Harry gaped, stunned. Then slowly, the corner of his mouth twitched. “You think it’s obvious?”
“Just hurry up already!”
“Okay,” said Harry, as the confidence surged through his body. “Okay, I will.”
He stood, and jogged out the Great Hall to catch up with her. Cho was just about to turn down an intersecting corridor when he saw her.
“Cho!” he called. “Hey, Cho wait up!”
Cho Chang looked back and smiled slightly. “Hi, Harry.”
“Hi,” said Harry, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. “Um, I wanted to ask you something, if that’s okay.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. Cho went pink in anticipation.
“Er, do you wanna go to the ball with me?” he asked, his insides cringing with embarrassment.
“Uh,” she said, and Harry felt the strongest urge to run. But then she blushed deeper. “I would like that.”
“You would?” he asked, unable to hide the disbelief coloring his words.
“Were you expecting me to say no?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“No, well - yes,” he admitted.
She giggled, just as the bell rang and students began to flood the hall, heading to class.
“My next class is Arithmancy,” she said, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
“Cool,” said Harry, unsure why she was telling him. “Mine’s Potions.”
Cho appeared a bit put out. “Cool. That’s the same direction, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Harry murmured, still not getting it. Then it hit him. “Oh! I can walk you to class.”
“Thanks,” she said, pleased, and they fell into step beside each other.
***
That day, Harry spoke more words to Cho Chang than he ever has in his entire life. It became apparent very fast that she was really serious about going with him to the dance, and actually liked him very much. She kept throwing out hints that he should walk her to her classes, and Harry readily picked up on them. Though there were still some things Cho said that he didn’t quite understand. For instance, during their last walk together she had kept going on about how cold her hands were. Harry had suggested she asked Professor Flitwick the incantation for a warming charm, but she seemed unsatisfied with this response for some reason.
Harry’s face hurt from smiling so much, as he waited outside of McGonagall’s classroom for Cho to come out.
“Harry!” she beamed, and hurried to stand beside him. Classes had ended for the day, so they didn’t have anywhere to be, besides for dinner, but Harry thought he’d much rather stay and talk to Cho than eat.
“How was Transfiguration?” he asked, after a beat of silence.
“Oh it was okay,” she said. “We were turning marbles to balloons, but Marietta accidentally knocked my marble under a cabinet. Luckily I was able to reach it, since my hands are so small.”
“That’s good,” Harry said, not knowing what else to say.
“They’re nothing like your hands,” she said. “I bet mine are half the size of yours!”
She put her hand in front of him, and Harry just nodded, not sure why she felt the need to do this. She lowered her hand a second later, with a quiet sigh.
“You’re really sweet, Harry,” she said. “So much better than my last boyfriend.”
Harry’s heart fluttered. Did she really think he was her boyfriend?
“Cedric used to be really nice but just the other day he started acting really rude. He was even talking to that horrible Pansy Parkinson girl!”
Harry’s fluttering heart instantly dropped like a brick. She had been dating Cedric Diggory?
“It was like his whole personality changed,” she sniffed. “But it doesn’t matter now. You’re much better.”
Harry didn’t want to tell her. He would much rather just play ignorant and not bring up the fact that she had been talking to Draco Malfoy, not Cedric. Because the second Cho finds out, she surely won't like him anymore. He shouldn't tell her, he really shouldn't.
But his stupid, annoying conscience couldn't let that happen. It wouldn’t be fair to Cedric. He couldn’t let Cedric get kidnapped and lose his girlfriend in the same week.
“Cho,” he said, bitterness rising in him. “I have something to tell you.”
And so Harry told her everything. Everything he knew, anyways, regarding Draco Malfoy and the impersonation of Cedric Diggory. He didn’t really expect her to believe it. After all, no one else did. At the very least he expected her to be highly skeptical.
Cho, however, believed him instantly.
“That explains so much!” she said. “I even saw him coming out of the Slytherin common room! I must have found him when he first transformed!”
“You- you believe me?” he asked, stunned.
“Well of course!” she said. “It makes more sense than Cedric breaking up with me!”
“Right,” he muttered, caught between feelings of disappointment over the inevitability of losing Cho and the validation of someone finally believing him.
Cho must’ve picked up on his feelings because she quickly smiled at him. “Not that I- I mean I really would like to go to the dance with you Harry.”
“Just not as much as you’d like to go with Cedric,” he said dryly. She winced.
“Well,” she said, but she couldn’t quite deny this.
“It’s fine,” Harry said quickly. “It doesn’t matter. But what does matter is that Malfoy kidnapped Cedric and we’ve got to go save him.”
Cho’s expression turned serious. She brought up the option of going to Dumbledore, but Harry shut that down, repeating all the reasons Hermione had said.
“What do we do then?” she asked.
And Harry told her the plan.
***
Nearly an hour into the plan, absolutely no progress had been made. Cho had went to the Hufflepuff common room, and Harry the Slytherin one in hopes that they could find evidence on where Draco was hiding the real Cedric. The current issue was that, Harry had been standing outside the Slytherin common room entrance under his invisibility cloak for over an hour now, waiting for a Slytherin to leave or enter so he could follow behind them but no one had come.
Harry even tried guessing the password. Things like ‘pureblood’, ‘snakes’, and ‘evil’ - but none of those worked. He only hoped Cho was having more luck on the Hufflepuff side of things. She didn’t have an invisibility cloak and was riding on the hope that a Hufflepuff would just let her inside - which, knowing Hufflepuffs, they probably would.
Harry sighed heavily. They promised the other that after an hour they’d meet back up in the corridor outside the Great Hall, to recount what they found. Harry hated that he would have nothing to report, but if he didn’t go meet her she would assume a Slytherin had eaten him or something, so Harry, dejectedly, headed back.
He arrived at their meeting spot first, so he waited under his cloak for her to show up. Minutes ticked by. Harry’s stomach grumbled - he really should have gotten dinner. But Cho did not show up.
Unease slid into Harry’s gut. Something was wrong. Maybe Cho had been eaten by a Hufflepuff!
Harry took off running towards the Hufflepuff Common Room. He went so fast that he accidentally knocked into poor Dennis Creevey who looked absolutely baffled by the fact he had been trampled by an invisible man.
Finally Harry made it to the barrels, and sure enough, Cho stood right beside them.
“Cho!” he said, pulling off his cloak. “Where were you?”
“What? Oh, sorry I must’ve lost track of time,” she said, her eyes darting from side to side.
“It’s okay,” he said, surprised at her tardiness but not upset. “Well, did you find anything out?”
“What?”
“About where Malfoy’s been keeping Cedric!” he clarified, squinting at her. “Did you find any clues?”
Cho was wearing a very strange expression. “No,” she said after a pause, smoothing her skirt. “I’ve been waiting here the whole time. Did you know that if you hit one wrong barrel the thing sprays you with vinegar?”
“No, I didn’t,” he said, shoulders sinking with disappointment. “Well, we can always try again tomorrow.”
“I’m busy tomorrow actually,” Cho said quickly.
Harry raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Yeah, I’ve got…something important.”
“More important than finding Cedric?” he asked, surprised. “What’s more important than that?”
“Uh,” said Cho. “Well, I also have to find my...brother. He’s been kidnapped too.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” said Harry, feeling more and more bewildered by the minute.
“He’s been kidnapped for a really long time.”
“Er, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” said Cho, waving him off. “Anyways, I have to go now.”
She turned and practically ran in the opposite direction. Harry was left standing there, very confused, and still no closer to finding Cedric.
He sighed and began walking towards the Gryffindor common room, suddenly overcome with the heavy desire to sleep his problems away.