Cry

Harry was crying.

Not the quiet, sobbing kind that would follow dreams of his parents; but the loud, desperate crying that he had not been able to quiet during the past few days. He had gone to bed every night since that day, crying, and every night he would be plagued by dreams of green. He would wake up, scared and alone, screaming and kicking, and of course, crying. Crying was all he knew; he felt if he cried long enough, maybe it would bring him back. Maybe if he cried hard enough, his heart would simply stop beating, and he would be able to see him again.

Dumbledore had given a speech about him, during which Harrry had felt oddly uncomfortable. He had sat there, listening with deaf ears, about Cedric and Voldemort. He had felt angry - with himself, and especially with Dumbledore. He was angry at Dumbledore for talking about Cedric so haughtily - like he had known him like Harry had. Nobody had known him like he had; not Dumbledore, or any of the Hufflepuffs, and especially not a certain Ravenclaw seeker. Cho was sitting a few chairs down, silently crying. Her beautiful almond shaped eyes were now red and swollen. Harry had felt guilty, for he could not bring himself to cry.

He had gone to his funeral, too, which had been held a few days after Dumbledore's eulogy. He had seen Amos Diggory, and his wife, both looking rather calm, and yet Harry could see the distinct dullness in their eyes. A light had gone out somewhere in their souls, and Harry could not help but think it had gone out in his, as well. Of course, the Diggory family had never known of the relationship between Harry and Cedric; it had started only that year, and they never had a chance to let anyone in on it. He had thought about telling them after the funeral procession was over, and decided against it; he didn't want to insult Cedric's parents, or worse; his memory.

When the funeral was over, Harry proceeded back to Privet Drive, to live out the summer until next year at Hogwarts. It was the same as it had been at Hogwarts; he cried all the time. He cried himself into slumber each night, and spent his awake hours pondering those last minutes with Cedric, gazing out windows, or curled up in bed. Dudley had given up on tormenting him, Aunt Petunia had started to worry about his loss of appetite (although she would never admit it), and on more than one occassion, Uncle Vernon had awoke in the middle of the night to here unsuccessful stifles of pain and desperation.

Eventually, weeks later, Harry had run out of tears. He had become a living ghost of a once-alive boy. He floated through the days, unaware of anything around him, dreaming of days past. He didn't cry at night anymore, or in his sleep, though if someone were to sneak into his room, they would hear him calling out to him. He often dreamt of Cedric; reliving the happy moments they had shared; the elated feeling he had had. One night in particular, his dream had been so real, when he awoke, he was certain he had gone back in time. He had jumped out of his bed, scribbled a note on some parchment, and attempted to tie it to Hedwig's leg. Hedwig, however, gently nipped Harry on the hand, signaling to him that he was still in the summer of 1995. Harry had felt his heart break all over again.

It was now September, however, and all of that was in the past. It had been over two months since Cedric had left him, and he had to face the place that he knew would bring him more pain then he could ever imagine.

The first few weeks were hard. He found himself wandering the hallways alone, avoiding his friends; especially Ron and Hermione. He hated to be with them, because they would make sympathetic faces at him, and ask if he wanted to talk. He wanted to scream; shout in their faces, that no, he did not want to talk about it. At night, he would lay in his four-poster bed, the curtains drawn, signifying that he did not wish to be disturbed. And he would dream...

***

He found himself walking down the hallway to the fifth floor. Fourth door to the left of the statue of Boris the Bewildered. He stood in front of it, and uttered the password he had been given so long ago.

"Pine fresh."

The door eased open, to Harry's surprise, and he stepped inside, bolting the door behind him. He risked a glance around, and was instantly mesmerized by the room. It wasm sparkling white from ceiling to floor, with a giant pool-sized tub in the middle. A chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling was casting a comfortable golden glow on the brilliant marble, and he took a step forward. A soft and continuous noise sounded from the far corner of the room, and when he glanced over, he saw him sitting quietly on a bench, next to a pile of fluffy white towels. He was leaning against the wall; his feet resting gently on the edge of the bench and his arms wrapped around his knees. His eyes were closed, and he was quietly humming, which Harry realized was responsible for the sound he was hearing.

He walked into the room a bit more, his footsteps echoing, and causing the other boy to open his eyes. He smiled at Harry and stood up, crossing over to him. They embraced, and Harry was content to just breathe in the smell of freshly laundered robes as he snuggled into Cedric's chest.

"I'm glad you came."

"Me too. I, um, I missed you, Cedric."

"I know, we both missed each other."

Cedric wrapped his arms around Harry, and raked a hand through his messy black hair. Harry looked up, and green eyes met gray eyes. Cedric leaned down slightly, and kissed Harry. Harry willingly obliged to this, and let himself fall into the moment. Then, Cedric licked Harry's lips during a kiss, and Harry opened his mouth to allow Cedric in. Harry enjoyed the sensation of having Cedric's tongue explore his mouth, and before he knew it, they had found their way to the bench Cedric had been sitting on.

Cedric sat down on the bench, and pulled Harry so close that he had no choice but to sit on him. He put his knees on either side of Cedric, so that he was barely straddling him on the small bench. Harry felt as if he might even fall backwards, but Cedric comforted this fear by wrapping his arms around Harry's waist. Harry leaned in, and kissed Cedric again; and this time, it was he who explored Cedric's mouth.

Cedric ran his fingers through Harry's hair again, and down across the nape of Harry's neck. Harry gripped Cedric's jaw, pulling his face upwards into his kiss, and the kiss grew more passionate. They were now kissing as if it were the one thing they needed, and both boys were grabbing at each other, grasping for something to cling to.

It must have been hours later, that they finally pulled away from each other. By that time, both boys had lost their shirts and robes, and their lips were swollen from kissing. Harry bore some very distinct scratch marks on his back from Cedric holding on to him so tightly. Cedric's neck was spotted with tiny red spots from where Harry's lips had lingered just a little too long.

Cedric looked at Harry and ran a hand down his flushed cheek. Harry pushed a few locks of brown hair out of those beautiful gray eyes, and put his arms around Cedric's neck. They stayed there, holding each other for a very long time. All the candles in the chandelier had gone out, and the only light was the moonlight filtering through the stained glass windows. It felt as if the universe had faded away, and only Harry and Cedric were left. As Harry clung to Cedric, he felt him drifting off to sleep. He took one last glance at those eyes, and the world fell away.

***

When Harry awoke, he was surprised to find himself in his four-poster bed. He flung his curtains open, and practically threw himself down the stairs from the dormitory. He ran through the common room, still in his pajamas, aware of his classmates staring at him. But he didn't care; Cedric was back, he was really here! He climbed out of the portrait hole, and ran down two flights of stairs, to the door he knew so well: fourth door to the left of the statue of Boris the Bewildered. He stood in front of it, and said the password.

"Pine fresh."

Nothing happened. The door didn't open. Harry felt desperate for a minute, then realized Cedric must be in there with the door bolted shut.

"CEDRIC! CEDRIC, OPEN UP, IT'S HARRY. LET ME IN!" He screamed. People had started to gather around him, confused, and sympathetic. Ron and Hermione had come running, and Ron ran up to Harry.

"Harry! Harry, what are you doing?"

"Ron, he's back! Cedric! We were here together last night! The password is 'pine fresh', and he's back!"

"Harry, Cedric is dead... he's been for nearly two and a half months. Sorry, mate, maybe you need some sleep..." Ron reached out for Harry's arm, but Harry yanked it away. He pushed Ron hard, and Ron stumbled backwards, nearly falling over.

"NO HE ISN'T. I told you, I just saw him LAST NIGHT! The password was 'pine fresh' and it has to work, it worked last night... Cedric's not dead!" The crowd of people had grown large, and some people were jeering at him; laughing at him in his pajamas, claiming he'd seen Cedric Diggory last night. The crowd went suddenly quiet, and Dumbledore pushed through the throng of students. He walked over to Harry, and held his arm tightly, and guided him away from the crowd. Harry started to lash about.

"STOP, I CAN'T LEAVE. HE'S GOING TO COME OUT IN A MINUTE, I TOLD HIM TO OPEN THE DOOR." Harry was screaming at the top of his lungs, and some students had begun to cry. Dumbledore looked at Harry until their gazes caught. Harry stopped screaming.

"Harry, you need to come with me." Harry's face went blank, and without another word, he followed Dumbledore to his office.

"Harry, you know Cedric is dead. We've been through this before. He died after the TriWizard Tournament. Voldemort killed him. You have to remember this." Harry sat for a long awhile, hunched over in a chair that Dumbledore had conjured for him.

"It can't be true." But as he muttered these words, he realized just how true they were. Last night had been a dream, as images of the night in the graveyard became fresh in his mind. The chilling order from Voldemort, Harry's screaming, and the blinding green flash. Cedric hadn't had time to react.

Hours later, Harry headed back to his dormitory. He climbed through the portrait hole he had dashed through just earlier that day. Walked past the same people who had watched him running, crying for Cedric. Walked up the same steps that he had almost fallen down, and climbed into the same bed, where he had almost found forever. He pulled his curtains shut, and cried.

He cried for himself, and for Cedric, of course. He cried for their nights together, and the nights that he had relived in his dreams. He cried for their love, and their love lost. But most of all, he just cried. Because that was all Harry Potter knew anymore.

-fin-