CEDRIC
XXXIV
"Since when do we wish luck to a Gryffindor? To Harry Potter, especially after what happened last year?"
Cedric was aware that people might have an opinion about his comment even before he said it, and that hadn't stopped him. Neither did the presence of his friends.
But Zacharias wasn't one of them, not really.
He had never been.
Sometimes Cedric felt terrible because his housemate was one of the few people in the world who had ever given him a bad feeling. He hated that it was like this. He tried to get along with Zacharias, never said anything that would start a fight nor left him out of any plan because that was not something Cedric would do. What he couldn't do was ignore every time Zacharias said something with dubious intent and unnecessary reproach. Cedric could let some things slide, but he could tell when someone said something to upset him or make him look bad.
"I wished him luck, too," Cho commented, turning to Zacharias, "a few days ago."
Cedric stopped in his place to answer him face to face. "I was the one who did it, not you." He took a deep breath. "You can support whoever you want, and what I remember from last year was that Harry saved a student."
"After he was the one who put her in danger in the first place."
Counting one, two, three...
Cedric was going to need more than a few breaths in and out.
"I don't think that's how things happened," Tam intervened, grabbing his arm. "Have you ever even asked him?" she said towards Zacharias.
Who remained silent, his expression unreadable because Cedric turned away and didn't look at him a second time. He didn't like confrontations and even less with people with whom he did not believe he could have a fluent dialogue. Remembering the events of the past year and the comments Zacharias had made about Harry on countless occasions, Cedric hated knowing that he hadn't done more to defend him than say they didn't know what had happened and maintain a neutral position.
Because that's how he was sometimes, someone who struggled to take sides.
There he was, walking close to a housemate he didn't consider his friend but had never walked away or faced him in an honest conversation. Cedric could sense that Zacharias didn't like him, of course he had noticed. Although he wasn't the type of person Cedric would choose to surround himself with, he felt that he had to keep the peace due to their coexistence in the dorms and for the team's sake. Although that had been an unpleasant exchange, a calm came over Cedric that he could trace back to the sole fact that he had dared to wish Harry luck this time.
And how much he liked that he had made it clear who he supported.
HARRY
XXXIII
The strategy that allowed him to avoid any trace of concern during the night before the match was as effective as it was embarrassing to recognize. Focusing on Cho and Cedric wishing him luck worked wonders until breakfast, when he felt so sick he might throw up. It was the last match of the season and the one that would determine who was the winner of the Cup, and Malfoy along with other Slytherin boys had spent months telling everyone that the victory was theirs this year since the points favoured them.
Oliver's plan was a good one, but it was just that: a plan.
They wouldn't be in that situation if they hadn't lost so resoundingly to Hufflepuff. Harry's goal had never been to prevent the other seeker from catching the snitch in order to give Gryffindor time to score enough points.
How would he do that? He didn't have a clue.
He grew more nervous as he watched each player as they arrived on the field. It had been a bad idea, since the looks that the Slytherins returned were charged with anger, impossible to hold. To his surprise, Malfoy conveyed something tolerable. Security and confidence, as if he knew they had already won. Although presumptuous of him, it allowed Harry to take a better look at him. Considering he had stopped to think about the seekers before, from this distance he could admit that Draco was far from unattractive with his blond hair swept to the side and dark green uniform contrasting with his pale skin.
And with his smirk fading into a scowl, Harry's attention turned to his own shoes.
He immediately shook off that thought, disturbed.
He would never be able to forget all those times that Draco had insulted him. Even if it was nothing new to Harry, he hated the way he had treated Hermione so badly and his habit of pestering Ron over the name of his amazing family. They didn't deserve that and sometimes he thought the reason Draco picked on them was only because they were friends with Harry Potter.
A title that had more costs than benefits.
XXXIV
Oliver didn't shake hands with the Slytherin captain and suddenly each player was jogging to take their position. Harry was the last one to fly and the match began. Slytherin's scoreboard was the first to move, but within a few minutes Gryffindor had managed to get several goals through the hoops. Harry was watching carefully what his team was doing, in an effort to hide that he was trying not to lose sight of Draco and identify his strategy. It took him a while to figure out that he was being followed, a tactic Harry often didn't understand and had never used.
He pretended he hadn't noticed, watching the match unfold below and expecting to see the snitch at the same time. Not to catch it, but to prevent the opposing seeker from doing so. Whenever Draco passed by, he'd throw comments like "I know what you're trying to do and it's not going to work", "you should all give up before it's way too embarrassing" and best of all "I can almost admire that you want to go down with at least some dignity, almost being the keyword». Harry would roll his eyes and shake his head, ignoring him and acting as if he was annoyed so Draco would get distracted and try again with another biting sentence.
He saw a flash of gold and steered Malfoy in the other direction. "How are you so sure you're going to win?" he spoke, turning his head to look at Oliver in the hoop.
The scoreboard had not yet reached the number they needed.
Maybe asking that question wasn't the wisest thing to do, but Harry had panicked.
Draco moved closer. "For someone who wears glasses, you're far from seeing reality."
Harry had to hold back his laughter. Now he was messing with his myopia and astigmatism? If he only knew how many times he'd been bullied about it at his previous muggle school. For such different worlds, they did have several similarities...
XXXV
All they needed was time.
And Harry had succeeded in his mission.
Oliver's nod was so subtle that no one but Harry seemed to notice it on the pitch. They were about to reach the happy number. When he caught a familiar glow in the distance, it was the exact right time. It was not lost on the commentators and suddenly Harry had half the Slytherin team hot on his heels. Malfoy even tried to hold him back by the end of his broom so he wouldn't catch the little golden snitch, but with cheating and all, it wasn't enough to stop him.
Lee Jordan took it upon himself to make it very clear. "Harry Potter catches the snitch and Gryffindor wins!"
"As a result of about twenty points," said the other commentator, whose name was unknown to Harry. "Not really a great victory."
"It does not matter with how many points you win, but that you do win. This year's cup belongs to Gryffindor! Take this one, Slytherin."
"Jordan!" McGonagall's voice made Harry laugh, hilarious.
They had actually won.
He couldn't believe it.
He pirouetted in the air and swooped down to meet his team. As he trotted toward them, he searched the stands for someone. Cedric. He gave him a thumbs up and a smile. He heard a whistle and saw Hagrid clapping his hands proudly, louder than anyone else. His teammates found him halfway and lifted him up, and Harry held onto wherever he could as they jumped on the best day of his life.
XXXVI
Since this was Oliver's last year, the party was also his farewell. He gave an emotional speech that made Fred and Angelina's eyes water so much that George hugged them. Harry couldn't imagine how the next year would be without him. Without the guardian and captain, who had taught him everything he knew. A feeling of nostalgia washed over Harry and he tried to thank Oliver for all the trust he had placed in him since his first year, and though he didn't manage all that well to put it into words, Oliver ruffled his hair telling him what a pleasure it had been to train such a amazing young seeker. And that he would still keep up with the team even when he was no longer at Hogwarts.
"Out with the long faces and let's celebrate!" George joined in with Katie to liven the mood.
Photographs were taken next to the Cup, which was then passed from hand to hand. Fred poured some alcohol and sipped it, a moment George captured with a briefly stolen camera. All the Gryffindors filled the common room until the wee hours of the morning, even after McGonagall sent them to sleep because of the noise. The Weasley twins proposed to keep it quiet for a while longer and they did a cool spell that made them hear music inside their heads. After two songs, Harry joined Hermione on the couch to watch and giggle as the others danced to different rhythms.
They couldn't tell what Ron was listening to judging by his footsteps.
It was nice to see Hermione laughing for a night instead of studying.
Harry leaned against his back, smiling happily despite being exhausted.
He couldn't help but think how much he wanted a certain golden haired boy to be there, and decided that the next time they won, he would invite Cedric and not care about what anyone else thought. Angelina and Katie could be counted on to agree, and boy, they surely would keep him company. Since he'd met Cedric, he'd heard more and more comments about him, especially from girls.
About how handsome he was, something Harry couldn't forget.
A strange sensation invaded the middle of his stomach and chest. Now that the Quidditch season was over and he was relaxed, a question tried to creep into his thoughts.
One he wasn't sure he wanted to answer.
That night he avoided it at all costs.
XXXVII
The Gryffindor common room was lit by a few ceiling lights and candles. They had been sitting at the table for at least two hours, and a couple of days had passed since the party. Harry waited until they were the last of the students present to address both Ron and Hermione when he asked the question. "How do you know if you fancy someone?"
Hermione was behind a stack of books.
Considering how tired she looked when she peeked in, anyone would think the exam was next week and not three weeks from now.
"Harry likes Cho Chang, a fourth year," Ron chimed in to explain instantly. "I think he is in denial."
Shifting in the chair, Harry looked away.
If that was the case, it wasn't in the way Ron expected.
"I think you just know," Hermione replied with a tiny smile.
"From the beginning?"
"Maybe not from the beginning, but at some point."
This was the kind of conversation that if someone had told Harry that he would be the one to start it, he wouldn't have believed it.
There he was, trying to make sense of those enigmatic words.
Next to him, Ron was frowning. "And how can you know that? Do you fancy someone, Hermione?"
With all the fights between them, Harry had almost dismissed the theory of Ron's feelings. He watched the exchange with renewed interest, searching for new evidence. The slight blush on Hermione's cheeks did not go unnoticed.
He wondered if that meant it was mutual...
An exasperated expression took place. "I have friends, believe it or not. That's how I know."
It didn't seem like a direct answer.
Could it be...?
"My sister is your friend," Ron reasoned, leaning across the table. "Does that mean you talk about boys? Isn't she too young for that?"
The blush on her face now must have another meaning. "That's something I can't answer, but what about you?"
Ron jerked back, surprised. "If I fancy someone?"
"No," Hermione replied immediately. "If you have some knowledge to contribute."
He was as red as his hair.
Despite it being awkward to witness, Harry couldn't stop staring at the scene.
"I may know a thing or two."
As it turned out, Ron knew of three:
1. The first thing he said was that when you like someone, you think that person is beautiful. Even if no one but you seems to think so.
2. No matter how nervous you get when you're around that certain someone, you want to be close and get to know them better.
3. You feel like doing things you wouldn't normally want to do, like hugging or kissing them.
"Or so I've been told," he added at the end, turning a new tone of colour as he mentioned the last point.
"I would have never thought that Fred or George could be so inspired." Hermione didn't hide her astonishment, challenging him to reveal his sources.
Ron chuckled and declared that it was already too late, that he should go to sleep. He took the parchment he had been doing his Divination homework on and went up the stairs into the dorms, leaving Harry and Hermione in a sudden silence.
She tore it up with an amused sigh. "That boy is like a box full of surprises. He's been more clear than any of my friends have ever been."
"So you do talk about boys?" Harry replied, laughing.
"You're invited. This has sounded a lot like a girl talk anyway."
Harry observed the book in front of him, pretending he could refocus on reading when he hadn't even been able to do it before, too eager to ask the question out loud.
"So... Do you fancy Cho?" Hermione spoke again.
"I don't know, actually. I'm not sure."
The look on her face softened. "You don't have to be sure right away. There is no rush."
Maybe she was right and he should give it time.
Problem was, Harry was torn between wanting and not wanting to know.
That night he lay in his bed unable to sleep. He thought about Cho and the times he had seen her. At the match, how nervous he got when he met her gaze. Sometimes in the hallway. When she wished him luck, he blushed. The girl was pretty, no doubt. And when he saw her next to...
Cedric.
His name resonated quite loudly. Everyone agreed that he was attractive. It wasn't just his beauty, but he was also someone incredible.
Kind and thoughtful.
Harry felt nervous around him, but who wouldn't be if those grey eyes looked at you with such a perfect smile? He remembered that afternoon in Hogsmeade, when the urge to hug him appeared, and he touched his hand. Cedric was sad, who wouldn't want to comfort him?
And that brief moment when Cedric leaned into him...
Harry believed for a millisecond that he was going to kiss him.
Probably anyone's heart would have fluttered in response. Probably anyone would feel closer to disappointment than relief when that wasn't the case, right?
The fact that Harry wouldn't have rejected him haunted his mind.
If he fancied Cho even a little bit, then...
What about Cedric?