37.(C) all I need

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CEDRIC

VI

On the bright side, Harry didn't look at the door like he was planning to go through it anytime soon nor did he seem to be trying to escape. Cedric sat up and glanced at every corner of the room, spotting the dark fabric of the invisibility cloak on top of a distant table. 

"How can I help you?" Cedric tried to joke politely.

Harry didn't return his friendly smile. "Are you sure I asked you for help?"

Of course. Who could it have been?

The signature of you-know-who could hardly mean Voldemort in this case. And if he was sincere, that was exactly something Harry would write.

"You may not remember," Cedric spoke very softly, confused, "but it was your handwriting."

Harry leaned forward, his facade of calmness collapsing. "I don't know how you could help me," he murmured with his breath ragged, holding his forehead between his hands for a moment. "I don't know what to do."

Cedric had never seen him like this before. 

So… 

Unable to think of a word, Cedric mustered enough composure within the pain that spread in his chest to say, "Tell me what happened. I'll think of something."

The scowl on Harry's face didn't dampen his confidence. 

"I'm not sure what you'd think of me if I told you. It's a long story, not pretty at all and I'm proud of almost no part of it."

Oh.

Impossible that Cedric didn't want to listen it.

"I wouldn't think anything bad of you, if that worries you," he assured Harry, stopping short before bumping his shoulder into his. Old habits. "You don't have to tell me everything. Just what is necessary for me to help you. I promise I won't judge you."

The honesty in his words must have gotten through, because he accepted.

"There must be a reason I asked for your help, though I don't remember it," Harry almost laughed, his expression turning into tortured seriousness. “I wanted to figure it all out on my own, but… If I left you a letter… It might mean I didn't make it and—”

Cedric remained on the edge of his seat, waiting for him to continue.

“How to start? You must have questions. Make one.”

Harry’s sudden and light mood was enough to encourage him to release one of the many. “How long have you been here?”

“Quite some time.”

Since it wasn't a very accurate estimate, Cedric tried, “How old are you?”

"Seventeen," he replied, doubt gleaming with amusement. “I think. Maybe eighteen. It's not like I celebrate my birthday here. I was sixteen when I left, it sounds weird to say, but when I left my timeline.”

The fact that Harry was actually opening up…

Added to the difficulty of dimensioning his response, it did not allow Cedric to quickly devise something different from, "Do you have any questions for me?" 

“I have to make a joke. Is there trouble in paradise?” Harry chuckled, and his laugh was so nice to hear that Cedric flashed an unexpected big smile. "I've never been in a relationship so I imagine I would have many of those. I am not an easy person to be with.”

"I disagree," Cedric blurted out without any qualms. “You’re sweet, funny and very good company.” 

"I don't think I know the boy you are referring to."

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