CEDRIC
LXXVII
"Are you all going to the Quidditch World Cup?" Cedric asked the large group of Gryffindors, who claimed that they would very quickly, with a couple of 'I wouldn't miss it for anything' and 'of course' . George wanted to know which team he would support and started a discussion about his chances, considering previous championships.
Suddenly they were two Weasleys deep in conversation.
Malcolm, who hadn't left his side, was more shy than ever.
The cause was the redhead who simply refused to believe that he would not go.
"Sports aren't my thing," Malcolm tried to explain.
"Yeah but..."
"Mal, I think Fred here is trying to invite you."
Perhaps Cedric had read a little too far between the lines, but he didn't deny it.
"Well... if you wanted..."
Giving them privacy once they started talking about other mutual interests, Hermione expressed not being a big fan either, even though she would attend, and she was listening to the passionate talk about the players, especially about Victor Krum, Ron's favorite.
Harry didn't seem to be paying attention, as if he was lost in his own world.
With a little 'hey' Cedric brought him back.
"I guess I'll see you at the World Cup then," he muttered, half question, half affirmation. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to hear Harry's response before.
"Ron and I have been planning this for months. I can't wait."
The way his green eyes lit up.
So adorable that Cedric couldn't help but smile.
"I'll see you there."
It would be a lot more fun if Harry was there too.
LXXVIII
"Have you packed your things yet?"
Cho even held a parchment in her hand where she had crossed off some items on a list. She went through it, omitting to mention a few, to prevent forgetfulness and told them about the time she forgot a really pretty blouse and had to go to the lost and found section to claim it.
"Magic is so convenient sometimes. My suitcase wouldn't close otherwise," Willow started talking about trying to use a muggle-style suitcase. "Just impossible. Nothing fits in them. My father does this sitting on top thing to close them," she said, laughing. "He has never let my mother or I help him with a spell, but he often asks us to save his shoes or coats in ours."
"My mother is always on board with a little magic."
"Because she's the fun kind of muggle," Tam replied to Malcolm, amused. "That woman would pass for a witch any day. Sometimes I feel like she reads my mind."
"That's part of her job," he cracked a laugh. "Listen to people and stuff."
Cedric got lost somewhere between the anecdotes of the patients Malcolm had mistakenly answered on the phone and how, in reality, there were no enchantments that could cure certain mental conditions. Cho mentioned that magic medicine was aimed at organic diseases, mostly, and Cedric remembered that it couldn't do much when it was serious, either. And immediate, like what had happened to his mother. An accident from which no one, however knowledgeable or powerful, could have saved her.
No matter how much that little boy had wanted to, he knew it now.
LXXIX
The last days of school felt like long goodbyes.
Those people with whom he spoke Cedric would wish a good holiday. Even when charms to guard his belongings would have his suitcase assembled in less than fifteen minutes, he couldn't do it in just one sitting. Noticing the empty spaces in the room made him nostalgic. At the beginning of the year, he would miss his father and at the end he would be invaded by that bittersweet feeling at the thought of not seeing his friends so often.
"Promise you'll answer my letters, no matter how long they are."
Malcolm was standing in front of him, with his puppy dog eyes.
"I promise," Cedric said, giving in easily to the emotional moment. 'When have I not?' would have ruined the mood. "You know we'll see each other, right? You can visit me whenever you want. Just send a letter a little bit in advance."
"There's a good chance I'll spend all my time at your house."
Cedric laughed, anticipating how his best friend would drop by with a fifteen minutes notice and stay an entire week. Malcolm helped him finish packing while they made summer plans that included Tam, Will and Cho.
LXXX
Every year it could vary who Cedric communicated with in the months outside of school, besides his usual friends. Finding someone's address in the wizarding world was pretty easy, with specific guides to search. It wasn't frowned upon resorting to them. It was also not uncommon to get a letter from someone you didn't know -he'd gotten a couple from girls a few times.
The muggle world, however, worked in a different way.
Harry Potter's information would not be listed for everyone to know.
And Cedric wanted to write to Harry in the summer.
LXXXI
He had the words in his mind.
It should be easy, but he had never done it before.
"Harry," Cedric called after looking for him for a while, relieved at the sight of him.
Finding him in the train cabins the next day would have been more difficult.
"Ced, I thought I wouldn't see you again until the World Cup."
It was true that they had already half said goodbye, with the whole matter of have a nice vacation and see you. The rest of the Gryffindors had been there too, and Cedric didn't think that was the right way to end the school year with someone who had become such a close friend.
"About that... I almost forgot something," he started to say, and no matter how much he tried to remember the words in his mind, it didn't come out the way they were previously organized. "There are several months left until the World Cup and I was wondering..." Since he didn't know how to say it, all Cedric did was hand him a piece of parchment with his address on it. Harry took it, visibly confused. "You can write to me. Or I can write to you, but I wouldn't know where."
A soft laugh came out of Harry. "Ron's owl got lost once with the address still on it. Would you like me to, uh, write it for you?"
"Yeah, had any paper on you?" That could be easily fixed: he tore off some of the space he had given Harry and handed it over again. Cedric didn't have a quill but he knew a way, "There is an incantation that can write for you."
"I don't think I know that one," Harry admitted, who did have a quill in his robe pocket. "Fixed."
Now this must be the strangest thought Cedric had ever had.
He saw it once.
He offered Harry to write on his back. He didn't refuse. Maybe because Cedric turned around too fast for him to do so. At least Harry couldn't see his face burning with embarrassment and his heart pounding as he felt the hand holding the paper smack dab in the center of his back, and the movement of the scribbling so smooth.
Harry ran his fingers over the fabric of his robes at the end. "That's it. Here you have."
A chill ran down Cedric's spine. "Thanks."
The boy gave him that little grin with his barely visible teeth. "I'll be waiting for you to write to me," Harry said, putting the quill away.
And his address.
Cedric looked at the one in his hands.
4 Privet Drive,
Little Whinging, Surrey.
"It's as accurate as possible, so your owl won't get lost."
"Puffy will be grateful."
"Puffy?"
"Named after my house, of course."
Harry was laughing, imagining that his full name would be Hufflepuffy.
LXXXII
Hedwig was a good name, he had to admit.
The only reason he wasn't ashamed of Puff's was because he'd chosen it himself, he told Harry. You can't be bothered with a six year old. His mother was always proud of her house. Her favorite color was yellow, and she would tell Cedric so many things even though he could barely pronounce it. Puffy, he would say until almost five years old. So when a beautiful baby owl appeared, they both agreed on what to call it.
His father wasn't so convinced.
"Mag, in a few months the owl will be sending letters to my work."
Of course it didn't take long for him to agree with her.
He explained to his colleagues and boss that his son had named it.
Cedric had no heart to think of a new one when his father brought another owl home years later.
LXXXIII
By the time he had approached Harry, the sun was casting its last rays into the wide corridor. Shadows surrounded them now from the dim glow of the magical torches, along with the calm of knowing there was no more danger and the relief that there never really was.
Black hadn't been after Harry all these months.
Cedric could see how much having him as a godfather meant to Harry.
It seemed that they got along better than with his uncle and aunt.
"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Cedric asked, referring to the suitcase.
"No, not at all."
Harry's sad expression told him that it had nothing to do with the preparation.
A need to hold Harry closer was on the verge of clouding his mind enough to let himself go. He only resisted because Harry put on a fake smile and changed the topic of conversation in regards to the party they would throw in the Gryffindor common room that night. The twins participated, so he was sure it would be fun.
Hufflepuff had one too, Cedric mentioned.
In fact, it probably had already started.
Holding that information on, Cedric decided he might be a little late. He would have liked it if there was a single party for everyone. He could be idealistic at times, imagining what it would be like if relationships between houses were more frequent. On a few occasions during the year he would completely disagree with that division with dubious meaning, and this was one.
It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the well-kept space and his friendships.
He probably just wanted to spend some more time with Harry.
LXXXIV
Harry said goodbye to head to the party, and Cedric gave him a hug.
A short one, somewhat quick and maybe weird.
He couldn't even tell if it had bothered him or not because Harry didn't get a chance to return it. When Cedric released him, they stared at each other and, despite the dim lighting, this was the closest thing to what Cedric might call a proper way to say goodbye to someone he realised he would miss too.
LXXXV
Cedric kind of thought no one would notice his absence.
Silly, considering he got some hello, hey and there you are as he walked through the common room. The decor was amazing, with yellow garlands that shone like gold and soft warm lighting on the dance floor. Of many colors that were reflected in Malcolm's face on the armchair. Cedric sat down next to him, more than surprised that he was alone. Worried, even if he had a tiny grin looking at their best friends on the dance floor.
Tam and Will danced together, holding hands.
"Where were you at?" Malcolm asked, without any criticism. "You missed the starting games."
"I was talking to Harry."
He hoped it wasn't a strange reason, because it made perfect sense to him. Apparently for Malcolm as well, because he nodded and only said with amusement, "I don't know how you manage to make new friends every year."
"You've made friends too," he pointed out, to which Malcolm instantly shook his head, without even hesitating.
"I may talk to new people, but friends? What I do is make new crushes that probably won't work."
A very small sound escaped from Cedric's mouth.
"Why do you believe that?"
Had something happened... with Fred?
Cedric thought that everything was going well between them.
"It's just a feeling," he replied, shrugging and falling back. "Have you ever felt, for whatever reason, that things are not going to work out?"
Well, no. He had never felt anything like it.
He wasn't sure what he meant.
"What kind of feeling?"
Sometimes Malcolm could be a little...
"A bad one," he replied, and Cedric just knew he wouldn't go into details.
Mysterious? Enigmatic? Maybe reserved.
He had a side that he kept private, even from his best friend.
Cedric didn't always know when to stop his questions.
"Fred clearly likes you," he continued, this time trying to cheer him up even though he had a slim chance of succeeding. He hated seeing him like this. Not just down, but like he was about to get up from his spot. "Maybe you're scared."
Malcolm chuckled. "That's for sure," he admitted and looked at him. "What do you say we go to the dance floor? It's the last night. I can't just sit here sad about something that hasn't even happened yet."
No matter how much Cedric said he wasn't good at dancing, Malcolm would talk him into it. They joined their friends, because what the hell, some moments only happen once.
HARRY
LXXXV
He didn't want to leave Hogwarts.
Every year it was getting more difficult.
He had tried to ignore it all during the party, and he succeeded. It was pretty good, actually, but that nasty feeling kept settling in his stomach. He walked silently to the platform, where the train would take him back to... Where? Harry wondered how things were at the house, considering how he had left last time.
Would they punish him?
Would they act as if nothing had happened?
His aunt and uncle weren't good at speaking in any way other than scolding. Even if they had had enough months to forget about the whole thing, Harry knew they would find reasons to lock him in his room.
Not that it bothered him.
That was the only place he tolerated being inside that house.
With a hug that lifted him off the ground, Hagrid said goodbye and muttered that he would miss him. Harry assured that he would write to him. If his uncle let him, he omitted to add. He had a plan that, considering how much magic scared the man, would make it happen. A threat from his barely-legal godfather would keep Vernon at bay -even if Sirius was innocent, Harry wouldn't doubt for a second that he was dangerous.
That idea did improve his mood.
During the trip, he talked with Ron and Hermione about the holidays they would spend together, going through the details. Harry would visit the Burrow, the Weasleys' home, a few days before the Quidditch World Cup and would stay until the start of school. Hermione would drop by too, to be with them and Ginny. When they got off the train, she said goodbye with a last hug and went in search of her parents. Mrs. Weasley greeted both Ron and Harry with a big smile and squeezed them, glancing towards the train door.
Waiting for the twins.
"What are they doing that they haven't come out?"
Ginny appeared just to answer, "It's better if you don't know."
As usual, the platform was packed. Students carrying their suitcases, reuniting with their families. He caught a glimpse of some golden hair in the distance, standing out on the heads of a group of first years. He raised an arm to wave, because it seemed that Cedric noticed him too. He returned the gesture, waving his hand with an enthusiasm that Harry didn't expect.
He must be smiling just like Harry, if not more.
That exchange went unnoticed by the rest among all the hustle. The twins emerged from the train laughing and their mother half scolded them and almost left them without air from the tight hug she gave them. Harry walked away not without a farewell squeeze to his cheek and finally ambled towards the exit on the muggle side, where he wasn't sure anyone would be waiting for him.
He had so much to look forward to.
So much to live for, he realised.
He would hold on to it.