Chapter Text
The days after the Task were miserable, just as Cedric had expected. Not only were there photographs of Harry's risqué method of getting Cedric to eat the gillyweed everywhere, but there were even more articles about their unfair alliance and advantage. And no one even knew they had worked together on the gillyweed part.
Honestly, it was getting a bit old. Cedric wondered how many times people would be willing to read the articles about them, how many times the papers could try and bash them. Witch Weekly currently couldn't get enough of them, or of Hermione and Krum. So, at least the burden was shared.
But, worst of all, were the hate letters. He had received dozens of them that morning, all along the lines of: You're obviously just using Harry for the attention--that's why you kissed him right before the Task! You're probably using him to betray him so you can win, too.
There were a couple more that he suspected all came from Malfoy, essentially saying he didn't deserve Harry's love and had stolen him from the more worthy. He found himself glaring at the Slytherin table a lot.
Still, as bad as they were, they distracted him from what had happened after the Task. How he had been drugged, how he had become all anxious and unstable.
He felt as though the tides had certainly turned. Wasn't it just a few months ago that everyone hated Harry? That Harry was the paranoid one?
Not that he cared; Harry was acting happier than Cedric had ever seen him, though he did credit some of that to himself. He had just spotted him on the way to a class in the hallway, and was busy whispering excitedly with his two friends.
"Hey," Cedric said, pulling him aside. Ron and Hermione stopped, and looked as though they might draw their wands (probably still paranoid from back when everyone hated Harry). But then they saw it was Cedric and let them be, waving Harry goodbye and continuing on their way.
"Hi." Harry grinned, reaching up to peck Cedric on the cheek. He saw a couple of nearby girls glower, but he ignored them.
"You're in a good mood," Cedric commented, bending down to return him a kiss.
"Yeah. Sirius wants to meet me in Hogsmeade this weekend!" he exclaimed. Cedric smiled at the light in his eyes. He knew he had been writing his godfather, but he didn't know about what. He was glad they'd finally get to see each other again.
"Well, let me know how it goes. I'll see you later this evening?" he inquired.
"Definitely. Usual spot?" Harry snickered when a passing sixth year raised his eyebrows at them. Cedric smiled jovially at them, trying to say, Like you didn't know already, with the coverage our relationship gets. He honestly didn't see the need to act reserved about showing affection publicly anymore. It's not like they had any privacy, anyway.
Cedric leaned in to whisper in Harry's ear. "Actually, I was thinking Prefect's Bathroom. We haven't done that in a while."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "I could use a bath."
Harry met Cedric at the Hufflepuff common room's door, bearing his Invisibility Cloak. They snuck to the Prefect's Bathroom, just barely missing Mrs. Norris. Cedric couldn't help but note that it was much easier maneuvering under the Cloak than the first time; he wasn't sure if it was because Harry had gotten taller and there was less of a height difference, or he had just gotten used to it.
They made it into the bathroom safe and sound.
Once they were in the door, Cedric immediately began to strip, and Harry watched him curiously. "What?" Cedric demanded. "Aren't you going to strip, too?"
Harry blushed. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "I mean, it's just that... we haven't done this since before we were... together." He looked completely flustered.
Cedric decided to alleviate that. Now only in his skivvies, he walked up to his fully-clothed boyfriend. "Worried it's going to be different this time?" he whispered, slinking his arms around Harry and kissing him softly. Harry opened his mouth with a moan, and Cedric carefully helped him remove his robes. "Come on. We won't do anything crazy," he assured him, though he found himself blushing as well.
Before he and Harry were dating, he had imagined plenty of things happening in this bathroom. Now that the barriers were down, he didn't know how well he could control himself. They both climbed into the basin, and Cedric turned on the hot water and scents.
"I fantasized about you a lot," Harry confessed.
Cedric rounded on him with a smirk. "Oh, did you?" he inquired, waggling his eyebrows. "I'd never have guessed, given the stares we shared," he said sarcastically.
Harry slid into the water, and Cedric watched him with relish. "You know you did, too," Harry chuckled, smirking in a way Cedric hadn't recognized from before. He didn't focus on the smirk, however, and found himself staring at Harry's body.
And now they were dating, he could touch that body.
He got into the water next to Harry and straddled him against the edge of the basin, kissing him soundly and with tongue. This time, it was much more pleasant than it had been with the gillyweed. Now with only a few layers of fabric between them, he could feel Harry's arousal as he groaned. The water sliding between them felt fantastic, and so did touching someone else like this. It was nothing he had ever experienced.
He began to move himself against--
He was interrupted. There was a giggle. Both Harry and Cedric tore away, and found Moaning Myrtle watching them with delight.
If that wasn't a turn off, Cedric didn't know what was.
Harry had come back from his visit with his godfather looking distressed. Cedric didn't really know what that had meant, or what they had discussed, but he planned to interrogate him about it. He found him in the library, once again whispering fervently with Hermione.
He sat down at the table and grinned as kindly as he could at the girl, even if sometimes he couldn't help but feel jealous that she got to spend practically all day with Harry. All he got was stolen moments in the hallway and late night trips sneaking about the castle.
"Hullo, you two." He hadn't seen Harry since the night in the Prefect's Bathroom, which meant he hadn't seen him all weekend. He slipped a hand on Harry's knee from under the table, and he blushed.
"Hey, Cedric," he murmured. "We were just talking about what Sirius told us. About Crouch and his elf," he specified. Cedric had no idea what that meant, so he just nodded.
"And Skeeter!" Hermione exclaimed. "She somehow knew that Viktor had invited me to visit him in Bulgaria!" She looked very frustrated, but also very pleased. Cedric thought she might have liked the attention.
"He invited you to visit?" Cedric asked with curiosity. He thought he might give Harry a similar offer...
"Vot is it to you, Diggory?" A voice behind him snapped, moving around the table to Hermione. "Hermione," he hummed, carefully enunciating her name. "Vould you like to take a valk with me? The sun is out."
Hermione nodded, and shared a glance with Harry before leaving.
"So, what's this about Crouch?" Cedric asked, placing an arm on the back of Harry's chair. "Well, he's sort of gone missing, you know," he mumbled. "And he might've put my name into the Goblet. Or his house elf," he added dryly. "Don't see why Hermione loves them so much."
Cedric chuckled. "She's an odd one."
"Yeah," Harry sighed. "We went to see the elf, and she told us something about keeping Crouch's secret. So, that was scary." He shuddered, and Cedric wondered if anything else was going on. He was probably still worried about the whole Voldemort thing... He decided it was best not to broach the subject.
"I meant Hermione," he teased, nudging Harry in the shoulder.
"Oh. Yeah." Harry grinned sheepishly, but frowned. "She thinks someone's bugged Hogwarts, to get all this information about her, Krum, and us." He sighed.
"That's an interesting idea." Cedric frowned. "Those articles are starting to get to me, you know. I keep getting ha--" he began, but Harry cut him off.
"Oh, damn. Ced, I gotta go. I promised I'd help Neville and Ron with a potions thing. See you later? Pace about if you need me," he added, before gathering his things and running away.
Cedric heaved a sigh.
I helped him out when people were against him. Can't he help me this time?
Cedric and Harry were out by the Quidditch Pitch. There were strange little bushes growing out of it. It looked wrong to see his precious pitch desecrated like that, Cedric thought.
"It's for the Task," Harry told him.
"Looks like a maze." Cedric nodded lamely. "No golden eggs to crack this time?" he inquired, wondering if it would be worth it to try and memorize the layout while it was still growing. It would probably grow fast, he thought. It might even be enchanted to switch around.
"Nope," Harry replied. "But we better bone up on our Defense curses. That's what I was told we'd need," Harry reminded him.
Cedric nudged him and laughed. "You're fine with Defense. There's plenty of other things we could bone up on." He smirked as Harry turned bright red.
"Ced..." he murmured.
"You're right. We need to be serious. Get ready for the task." He sighed as he looked up at the sky. "Be vigilant. I can't have anyone slipping any more anxiety inducing potions into my drinks, can I?"
Harry looked at him closely, and Cedric felt like his gaze was poring into his skull, reading his mind. "Who do you think did that?" Harry asked, looking concerned.
"Probably one of your rabid fangirls. They hate me," he muttered sorely.
"I don't have fangirls!" Harry protested.
Cedric rolled his eyes. "They're always writing me about how much they hate me for stealing you," he muttered. This morning's mail had been particularly harsh...
Harry just laughed. "Are you sure it's not just Malfoy? Everyone was telling me he was trying to start some sort of protest when we kissed at the Task," he snickered.
"Harry..." Cedric muttered. Not helping.
"Cedric," Harry returned with a grin, looking him into the eyes. "It's fine, I'm sure," he assured him, giving him a kiss that made him forget about his bitterness.
Despite the fact that Cedric would have been content to waste his days kissing Harry and moping about fangirl hate, he had classes to pass and finals to study for.
He also had to practice spells now, for the final Task. He knew plenty of charms, of course. He'd always been good at them, and he was grateful that this Task wouldn't require any Herbology skills. He had practically fallen asleep on his feet last class. Alfred didn't let him hear the end of it.
Harry was off with his friends studying, so Cedric was in his dorm reading about offensive curses. In case there was anything dangerous in the maze, which he was sure there would be.
"Whatcha reading?" Alfred asked, flopping onto his own bed and staring at the ceiling.
"Defense," Cedric replied. "For the Task."
Alfred perked up with that. "Really?" he inquired. "Do you wanna practice? We can pretend to duel," he added with a grin.
"Sure," Cedric replied. He got to his feet, and stared his oldest friend in the eye. "You're a monster, I'm a Champion. Fight me," he grinned. It sounded like one of the silly games of their childhood. Only now, instead of wrestling, they were pretending to cast spells without their wands.
Cedric practiced the incantations and pictured the wand movement. It was actually very good for relieving stress. He found himself no longer imagining evil fangirls or sulking Malfoy's or Harry's who didn't know what was going on. It was also fun.
After an hour, he and Alfred had collapsed onto their respective bed in a fit of laughter when their other dorm mates came in and found them "play dueling."
He had never felt so at ease about the Tournament than he had in that moment, and resolved to continue practicing like this for the final Task.
Harry was going to meet Cedric by the Quidditch stands tonight. He thought he might enjoy some stargazing.
Or something else. He felt something inside him shiver at the memory of the Prefect's Bathroom. If only Myrtle hadn't interrupted...
Oh, well. Maybe we're not ready yet, anyway. He thought, and then he wondered, Ready for what?
Before he could think too deeply on that (as much as he would have liked to), he was out in the fresh air. The stars were bright and brilliant, like pinpricks in an indigo blue canopy. The air smelled like wind and fresh water from the lake.
He saw a figure crouched on the edge of the hedged Quidditch field, sitting with their legs hugged to their chest. Cedric. He thought with a grin. He snuck up behind him, still in his Cloak, and placed his hands on his shoulders.
"Good evening," he breathed into his ear. Cedric jumped in shock, knocking off the Cloak, and let out a throaty yelp that was much deeper than usual.
"Potter?"
It wasn't Cedric. It was Krum. "Vot do you want?" he demanded, reeling away and looking scandalized.
Harry turned red and fell backwards. "I thought you were Cedric," he mumbled.
Krum nodded as if that satisfied him, and sighed. "And I hoped you vere Hermione." He sighed. "She just left. She is like a banshee ven she is angry." He grunted.
Harry laughed. "What did you do?" he asked him, raising an eyebrow. The wrath of Hermione was never fun.
"She thought I vos talking vith Skeeter," he groaned. "But I am not. You believe me, Harry?" he inquired, still looking dismal.
"Of course," Harry assured him. "You don't seem like the type to roll in fame." He was only half sarcastic.
"Exactly!" Krum cried. "She is not even knowing me, it feels like." The poor bloke sounded like his mother had just died, he was so miserable.
Harry was about to reply, but he froze. "Did you hear that?" he snapped, looking around for the source.
Krum nodded, standing up and reaching for his wand, all at once losing his sad demeanor. "Over there," he hissed.
Harry heard it more clearly this time. It sounded like some sort of insane, babbling drivel.
"Weatherby! Fetch the papers, dammit. I don't have all day." The voice snapped, and Harry saw the speaker. It was... It was Crouch?
"Weatherby! You're useless. I've lunch with my wife and son in less than an hour. Hop to it!" He was talking to a tree.
He's gone mad.
"Mr. Crouch?" Krum called tentatively, lifting his wand into the air.
Harry had a closer look now, seeing that Crouch looked malnourished and ill. His clothes were torn, and he looked like a shell of the man he'd been.
"Just a minute, Weatherby. Someone else--" he started, but broke off with a sharp, raggedy breath, and looked up at the two boys. "Dumbledore! Get Dumbledore," he gasped.
"Mr. Crouch--" Harry tried to help the man stand, but he held up a wavering hand.
"I need to see Dumbledore. Bertha Jor--" he broke off again and babbled about 'Weatherby' some more. Harry exchanged a glance with Krum.
"I'll get Dumbledore," he whispered.
"I vill vait here," Krum responded firmly.
Harry began running back towards the castle.
The soft air was now bitter in his lungs, and he did not want to falter to think about Cedric and the stars. Until, of course, he ran past Cedric, who was on the way to meet him.
"Harry! What's the rush?" Cedric called.
"Come with me! To the castle! We have to get Dumbledore," Harry panted, turning to grab his arm.
They both ran.
Barty Crouch Jr. had been trailing the Diggory boy. He'd seen him walk past his office, and he had a feeling he would lead him to Potter. And after the letter from his Lord, he had a feeling that he would find his father, too. Those sorts of things tended to gravitate towards Potter.
He snuck behind the hapless Hufflepuff, doubting he'd be spotted. If he was, well--he was Polyjuiced as Mad-Eye Moody. He could just tell him he was trying to figure out if he was up to something so late at night.
Once they were outside, it didn't take long for Potter to come rushing past, screaming about Dumbledore. Crouch knew then that his father was there. What else would have Potter all astir?
There was his father on the ground, by the Quidditch Pitch. A young man was leaning over him. Krum.
"Harry?" Krum asked tentatively.
"No," Crouch growled, casting a Stunning Spell at the boy. He crumpled into unconsciousness immediately despite his large frame, and Crouch was free to get to his father. He was babbling insanely, curled up on the earth beneath him.
He was talking about his family. Ha. As if we're still a family.
He stood by his father's broken figure. He didn't have much time until Dumbledore came, he knew, but he wanted to enjoy this while he could. The death would be a painful one, to have revenge for all the trouble his father had caused in the First War.
"Hello, Daddy," he hissed, kicking the old man in the ribs. "Bet you don't recognize me, do you?" he asked. His father let out a groan. He was about to say something, but Barty silenced him. By stomping on his face. "Don't talk," he hissed, grinding his heel into his nose. There was a satisfying crunch, and some squelching noises.
He grinned in delight, pulling his foot away to see the crushed face. "I could do so much more," he breathed, "with my magic. But that was more personal. This? This is not." He cast a spell that would make his father's blood boil, literally, instead of the metaphorical sense he had achieved with his crimes. His father hated those crimes.
He cast another spell that was just as Dark, this one tying his intestines in knots. He cast another one to melt his muscles and snap his tendons. His father writhed in pain for a few minutes more, until his muscles were so destroyed he could no longer move.
This was much less satisfying, so Crouch decided to end it. "Avada Kedavra."
Then, he transformed his father's corpse into a bone, and ran off to bury it where no one would find it.
Harry had little sleep the night after Bartimus Crouch. Krum had been taken to the hospital wing after being stunned by someone, and Crouch's corpse had disappeared. Hermione was beside herself, and Cedric had almost refused to remove himself from his side. But, eventually, after being interrogated by teachers and Madam Pomfrey, he had gone back to Gryffindor Tower for some sleep.
He hadn't slept, though, and instead pondered the implications of Crouch's madness. What if they had been wrong? What if Crouch hadn't put his name in the Goblet? What did that mean?
There was also the memory of Cedric getting drugged before the Second Task. Did that tie into all this?
He didn't know.
By morning, his mind had slowed down and he was in a sluggish haze. He hadn't been able to focus throughout the day. His classes drifted past him, and his head was in a hazy, sleepy dream world.
When Divination came, Trelawney's voice mixed with an odd buzzing sound lulled him to sleep. He dreamed of Voldemort, of tales of dead men, and the Cruciatus curse.
He awoke with a scream.
Cedric hadn't heard about Harry's accident until dinner. He was still shaken up from finding out about Harry's finding Crouch, and the interrogations that followed. And now this? He had seen Harry from across the hall, looking as pale as a ghost and Ron patting his shoulder reassuringly. Cedric had wasted no time in moving to the Gryffindor table to talk to his boyfriend.
"You look awful," he whispered, sitting between him and Ronald. "Still upset over Crouch?" he asked.
Harry shook his head. "I had a vision. From Voldemort. My scar is killing me," he added, rubbing his forehead painfully. "Can we talk about it somewhere more private?"
"Of course," Cedric replied, immediately getting up and taking Harry's hand, who apparently hadn't meant now. Cedric didn't care; he was tired of being out of the loop with his love's troubles.
He dragged him to the corridor with their secret stained-glass room, planting himself down on the middle of the floor. He patted the ground beside him and told Harry to join him, laying down to stare at the colorful ceiling.
"I went to Dumbledore after the dream. He and Moody and the Minister were arguing over Crouch's death, I think.," Harry said at last, pressing his body close to Cedric's on the stone floor. "And I looked into a Penseive."
Cedric made an acknowledging sound. He knew about Penseives. "What did you see?" he inquired.
"Lots of trials after the War," he murmured. "Karkaroff betrayed the other Death Eaters. So, that's why he and Snape were talking. And Bagman worked for Death Eaters, but he made it off innocent."
Cedric was a little surprised that Bagman would work with Death Eaters. Then again, the man would do anything for a galleon. Or a game.
"And..." Harry took a deep breath. "Crouch put his own son into Azkaban. It was awful to see."
"Oh." Cedric murmured.
"Anything else? What about the dream?" Cedric felt Harry choke, and he rolled onto his side and pulled him closer. "Shh," he hushed. "What was it?"
"Voldemort's coming back. Dumbledore thinks he killed Crouch. And a muggle, and Bertha Jorkins."
Cedric didn't know what to say, so he just held Harry for a long time. Suddenly, his frustration with Harry for not helping with the hate letters didn't matter. And he didn't want to bring up his concern with the Second Task. He just breathed and held Harry close, kissing him wherever there was skin for him to reach.
He didn't even want to think about the Third Task. Or who would try to sabotage it.
Crouch Jr. was growing restless. He hated Mad Eye's body, even if the eye was useful. He hated talking to all these cowardly wizards who couldn't even say the name of the Dark Lord. He hated not being able to kill or torture or mutilate--he had had a long enough time without it in Azkaban. Now he was free, and he should have been living it up.
But his Lord had told him to come here and deal with Potter, to get him into his clutches. There were many times where he had wanted to kill Potter, or to make him suffer. The Second Task was one of them--he had hoped that he could somehow ensnare Potter at the bottom of the Lake and drown him. It would have been delightful to watch the ensuing chaos.
But it was just as well to settle for the Diggory boy, so he had given him the potion before the Task. He had been jittery and anxious, and he was supposed to mess up and get himself killed under the Lake. It would have hurt Potter, and it would have been delectable. But it hadn't worked out, and he was settling for stalking the boys instead.
The Third Task was coming very, very soon. The maze was fully grown, and the Portkey was in place. He had set up some particularly nasty traps for Diggory, because he was tied closely with Potter. He couldn't afford to let Diggory win, and if he died or was severely hurt in the process... Well, that was even better.
Potter, of course, would be given the easiest path, if he could help it. Potter needed to be the one to get to the Portkey, to be sacrificed...
And then his Lord would rise.
It was the morning of the Final Task. Another article had been published about Harry, and Skeeter was now calling him unstable and dangerous. Harry had told Cedric that Hermione had figured something out, and had dashed off without telling anyone what she was doing. So, now, he was waiting by the Lake with Cedric.
Cedric was slightly nevous. His parents would be there any minute, and they wanted to meet Harry. He saw them coming down the pathway. "Here we go," he breathed. He knew his parents had not been pleased about Harry becoming the other Hogwarts Champion, as he had taken the spotlight from Cedric and Hufflepuff. He had no idea what they had thought about them dating. Or all the articles about them. Snogging.
"Cedric, my boy!" Amos Diggory called, and Cedric pulled himself to his feet, taking Harry's arm as he approached them.
"Mum, Dad. Hullo." He smiled. "This is Harry Potter," he announced, gently nudging Harry forward.
"Hullo, Mr. Diggory. We've met, haven't we?" he asked cheerfully. "But I'm afraid I haven't met you, ma'am," he added, awkwardly shaking Cedric's mother's hand. He should have kissed it, but Harry was oblivious as usual.
"Pleasure to meet you, Harry," she said. "I've heard all about you. From secondary sources, of course," she added, shooting Cedric a glare that made him cower.
"Sorry, Mum," Cedric muttered. "I've been a bit busy... With begin a Champion and all," he added, feeling his cheeks flush with shame.
"And with this one!" His father bellowed with a laugh. "You could have come out to us before, Cedric," he laughed. "Instead, we were given the Christmas gift of our boy and Harry Potter snogging in print! Who'd have thought?"
Harry was blushing, too. "Do I have your, er, blessing?" he asked timidly.
"Well, there's nothing we can do to stop you, is there?" Cedric's mum snapped, though she was smiling. "Come now, boys. Tell us about your adventures."
They walked for several hours, until Harry had to leave to visit with the Weasley's. Cedric stayed with his family, casually discussing the school year with his parents. His mother had broken away eventually, declaring she had a headache.
"So, how'd it happen?" Amos asked him. "You and Harry."
Cedric was glad he'd asked when his mother was gone, but he didn't want to tell the whole story. "We helped each other out for the Second Task," he explained.
"Even though he was the enemy?"
"He's not the enemy, Dad." Cedric sighed. "Anyway, we worked together. And Cho Chang was pursuing me--"
"Chang? She's from a good family. Why not date her instead of Potter?" his father demanded.
"She was only after me for the fame, Dad. And she went after Harry once I wasn't good enough. So Harry and I joked about going to the Ball together to spite her... And we actually did," he confessed, feeling embarrassed.
"And how did you know that you were attracted to him?"
Cedric groaned. "Same way you knew about Mum, Dad," he muttered. "Good old pointer kept me in the know," he snapped, pointing to his groin. His father let out a chuckle.
"Oh, to be young again," he sighed. He cast a tempus charm. "We ought to get you going. The Task starts soon."
Cedric nodded in agreement. They wandered back to the Pitch, where the maze was tall and wild looking. Before Cedric wandered off to join the other Champions, his father took him by the arm.
"Cedric," he whispered. "You're still my champ, no matter who you love. Remember that. And good luck out there."
"Thanks, Dad."
Cedric looked up at the maze, and unease coiled in his gut. This Task would be different. He knew it.
The shot rang, and Harry was the first person to enter the Maze. Cedric hoped with all his heart that Harry would be safe, that no one would be trying to sabotage him. Then again, someone might be trying to sabotage him, too.
The second shot rang, and it was Cedric's turn to enter the Maze. His stomach fluttered and his head spun, and he felt off the minute he stepped into it. It was as if there were wards around him, altering his thinking...
Snap. He turned around and found himself facing a house elf-like creature. The only difference was that it's eyes were black and rimmed with red, and inky veins seemed to bulge underneath it's flesh. It was repulsive.
He lifted his wand to cast Petrificus Totalus, but it drew a silver knife from nowhere and thew it at him. He dodged it, and it began to apparate all around him. Snap. Snap. Snap.
Then, his stunning spell finally hit home. The elf was unconscious, and he began to move on.
That was easy.
He felt a presence behind him, however. When he turned to look, he saw the knife the elf had thrown was chasing after him, as if it were sentient. Dark arts, he scowled, speeding up his pace to avoid it. It reminded him of a nightmare he used to have as a child...
He pushed the memory away. He didn't need that distracting him now. He needed to figure out a way to defeat this possessed object.
He was distracted again, however, when a hag appeared in front of him. Another thing straight out of his childhood night terrors, she was gray skinned and bony, with long fingernails and glimmering black eyes.
"Give me a taste of your liver, little boy," she hissed.
He felt the presence behind him again, and flinched out of the way last minute as the dagger flew by and lodged itself in the hag's breast. She froze, staring at Cedric with confusion. Then, she cackled.
"You can't defeat me with one of my own kind, boy!"
Her own kind? He wondered.
Knife. Hag. Nightmares. He realized quickly. Are these some kind of... boggarts?
Before he could cast a Riddikulus, however, the knife flew out of the hag and straight into Cedric's side. It ripped and twisted and pulled, as if it were alive and hungry to disembowel him.
In a panic, he cast the spell. The hag turned into a harmless old lady and the knife into a bouquet of flowers sticking from his side. He pulled them out and tossed them to the woman.
He kept on running, his hand clutching his side.
Harry had gone past several monsters already, and he had yet to properly tire. He felt alive, awake, and alert. All of his senses were heightened, and his mind sang of one thing: winning the Cup.
It was all he thought about as he slay the final beast between him and the cup. One transfigured sword brought down on the acromantula's neck, and he was standing in a clearing. The Cup gleamed in front of him, taunting and alluring.
Success. Victory. Achievement. Glory.
Word after word sung in his head, and it consumed his being to an unnatural level. It was enchanting.
The spell was broken, however, when he heard a familiar cry. His eyes snapped away from the Cup, and he saw a giant's head peeking over the hedge. Cedric was wailing beneath it, he realized.
He could not get through the hedge.
Unless...
He cast a stinging hex at the giant, which stumbled backwards to give Harry it's attention. The hedge broke beneath it, and Harry darted between its legs before it could notice. It spotted another champion and fumbled to attack.
Meanwhile, Harry caught sight of Cedric. He was lying on the ground, blood pouring from his side and deformed pixies gnawing at whatever flesh they could reach.
The former promises of victory vanished, and Harry vowed to not leave Cedric's side.
He cast away the pixies with a repelling hex, and knelt on the ground next to Cedric. He realized with regret that he did not know any healing spells. He lifted his wand, and red sparks flew into the air. Help would be on the way.
"What are you doing?" Cedric wheezed. "Go get the fucking Cup."
"No way," Harry replied. "What happened?"
Cedric didn't respond. He only squinted and held a hand to his red-stained side.
Harry forced himself to look away. He saw Krum fall the giant, and Fleur appear into the clearing. The two standing Champions made fierce eye contact, and they both ran for the Cup.
They reached it at the same time, and then they disappeared.
The maze walls fell at once, and the creatures inside were gone. Harry couldn't even bother wonder where the other two had gone--probably to some final part of the Task.
All he could focus on was Cedric, growing limp in his arms and bleeding out fast.