Chapter Text
CEDRIC
I
It was the worst dream he has ever had.
That shouldn’t mean much —Cedric was soon to turn sixteen years old. What could he be possibly having nightmares about?
He wasn’t supposed to have a lot of worries.
And he didn’t even think he had them.
Maybe he was a little anxious about going back to school. The trip to Hogwarts always excited him. He would dream that he missed the train, forgot his robes or favourite t-shirt. Nothing more than the everyday scenes or justifiable occasional fears. During the school year, exams would wake him up between dreams of failure. From time to time images of his mother, who had passed away when he was a child, would come up. Not sure whether they were drawn from memories or imaginings of his mind, impossible wishes that reverberated inside and wanted to find their way though his sleep. Either way, a bittersweet feeling would welcome him, sometimes sweeter and other bitter and sad.
This time Cedric woke up with his heart pounding, as if it had been ripped out.
His chest ached.
Heartbeat sounded like gunshots in his ears.
He found himself sitting in bed, struggling to breath. Scared. Shocked. Fragments of memories flashed through his mind like shadowy lights. A spell. The ground floor. He could see his hands as he fell. Dead. He was dead in his dream. It felt so real. The dirt of the land in his hands. The anguish of knowing that he would not be saved. Death wasn't the only thing that angust him, but he couldn't catch the thought. There was a boy looking at him from far away. He saw him in the corner of his eyes just for a second before the pain finished him off.
II
He usually forgot his dreams after a few minutes or days tops. But that nightmare stayed in his memory. It wasn't nitid. Just some pictures remained. He could still find the feelings that came with them if he looked closely inside, which he did not. Carrying that weight in the back of his mind felt odd. Even if he wanted to find more details, the only ones he could remember were those that had come to him that early morning.
Nothing different or new.
The boy was the most intriguing thing. How could he even know it was a boy when it resembled a dark figure more than anything else? Someway he just knew. Now matter how much he tried to visualise his face, nothing else came up. It simply wasn't there.
Maybe it was curiosity.
The unexplainable and confusing desire to understand what they were doing there and who he was.
Dreaming with strangers wasn't something he usually did. He was not that creative, but really it was just a shadowy human-shaped figure. His next dream was far more concerning, despite his interest in seeing the boy better. Big green eyes were looking at him. That was it. Mist covered the rest of the face, growing thicker as he got closer. Only the eyes bulged out. Attentive. Intimidating.
He should have been afraid. In panic. However, sadness was the only feeling he could sense.
III
Cedric could not deny that he felt chased after dreaming of those eyes for more nights than he could count. Of course he knew no one was watching him. It was just a dream. Not real. Still, he walked through the corridors of Hogwarts as if he was looking for a spy.
As if he was waiting to meet those eyes.
It was a matter of time until his paranoid behavior had any consequence. One evening, on his way to the Great Hall, he thought there was someone walking behind him. Even would have sworn he heard steps. Turning back, all he found was a deserted hallway. When he looked forward again, it was another story. He caught a glimpse of a downcast boy walking in a hurry… towards him.
Cedric immediately slowed down, but that was not enough to stop the impact.
The result was a dark-haired boy stumblering. Cedric held his arm, helping him to keep balance. The book he pressed against his chest had also stuck to Cedric when they collided.
"Sorry," the boy blurted out. “I didn't see you there.”
Cedric smiled, thinking he did see him and was going to comment on that. His social interactions often consisted of saying whatever came to mind. Sometimes that earned him a smile. Surely that would have helped this time, because the moment the boy looked up, only tension remained.
Silence.
His eyes. Green, bright.
The boy in his dreams.
The recognition hit him harder than that hardcover book. Stronger than that skinny boy. And as if that wasn't shocking enough, Cedric instantly identified him.
Harry Potter.
IV
An outgoing personality and knowledge on how to start a conversation and how to maintain it were his strengths. Or so Cedric thought, because he blanked out not knowing what to say. All he did was stand there looking at any part of Harry other than his eyes.
Black glasses fell down on his nose.
The beginning of the scar on his forehead was hidden behind his black hair.
Dark strands were sticking out from all directions.
He had seen Harry a million times and knew his name from before his first year. However, this seemed to be the very first time he really saw him. His bright eyes. He had never seen them so close.
Why did he know them so well?
Harry looked away uncomfortably, a side effect of staring at someone. The embarrassment he felt was the foot for Cedric to react by controlling his expression while he let go of Harry's arm, which he hadn't realised he was still holding, and told him what he had thought just a minute ago, “I saw you there, but you were going too fast. Are you okay?”
It didn't turn out as expected. There was no smile and Cedric had not sounded even half as relaxed as he intended to. Feeling his own tension and wondering if Harry could feel it from his side as well, Cedric found it hard not to focus on the thoughts swirling in his head: what is he thinking of you? What face did I put on? Is this being so weird...? He let them all pass, too affected by everything he couldn't express in coherent sentences.
Harry did smile.
"It's a good thing that at least one of us was looking." He adjusted his glasses in what seemed like a nervous gesture and held out his hand. The same one that was holding his book. Cedric caught it before it slipped from his arm. “I'm Harry.”
Cedric couldn't help but laugh.
"I know," he answered without thinking.
Harry's cheeks flushed with colour.
"Right, the scar and all," he said, pointing at his forehead.
With the same hand he was holding his book with.
"I'm Cedric," he introduced himself, grabbing the book to keep it from slipping and falling to the floor. He held out his free hand and Harry took it. “We had never introduced ourselves before. Nice to meet you, Harry.”
The boy couldn't be redder. In fact, he looked the same colour as Gryffindor house. Cedric, on the other hand, didn't know how he felt. His cheeks weren't hot. In any case, he was pale and perhaps being too formal and acting weird. It made him uncomfortable to see Harry nervous, because he felt that way too.
He wanted to make a good impression on him.
He wanted to fix and forget that brief moment in which he had been paralyzed, but that seemed more and more difficult. He wasn't acting like himself. And the way Harry looked at him and said 'nice to meet you, too' made him feel even more awkward.
V
Cedric thought there was something wrong with him. Because his hallway conversation with Harry not only went disastrously but ended worse. Harry told him that he was on his way to the Great Hall, in what clearly seemed to mark the end of the meeting. Cedric was too preoccupied with himself to notice. Instead of lying and saving them both from awkwardness, he answered that he was too and they walked the remaining stretch together.
Completely silent, glancing at each other when they weren't paying attention. Cedric wanted to say something, but he didn't know what.
He couldn't get the dream of him out of his mind.
How could it be possible...?
Before reaching the door, Harry turned and smiled at him, waving goodbye. Cedric held the book out between them just before he walked away. With a thank you and cheeks flushed with embarrassment, Harry hurried into the Great Hall.
Cedric followed a moment later, sighing.
There was nothing wrong with him, of course. He felt like himself again as he sat down at his table, along with his Hufflepuff friends. He was back to being the outgoing person he remembered. The one who knew what to say. That put him at ease. It had just been an awkward moment. And it hadn't been that bad, if he thought better of it.
He could just forget about it, let go.
If it wasn't for…
VI
Something was definitely wrong with him when it came to Harry.
It wasn't just about dreaming of his eyes, which was, at best, weird. Not to mention suspicious. But, without intending to, Cedric was looking for him in the Great Hall. His unkempt hair drew his attention wherever he went. Most people watched Harry as he walked into any room, it was true. After all, he was famous. The students followed his life and talked about him.
The thing was, Cedric didn't feel like he was looking at Harry Potter.
Not in the same way that others saw him.
On a few occasions he had met Harry's eyes. Both of them looked away quickly, of course, but it had happened. The same thing took place in the corridors. The difference was that Cedric sometimes managed to smile at Harry —wasn't sure whether it looked like a friendly or terrifying smile. He hoped it was the first option.
Cedric wanted to talk to him. It didn't make sense. He didn't even know Harry. And he could bet that it would be a disaster. He felt nervous just imagining it. Even made up scenarios in his head and thought of excuses to talk to him. Something Cedric had never done before. Usually, if he wanted to talk to someone, he just did. Between those emotions and dreams that continued, he was starting to not recognise himself. And he was tired of it, so he decided that he would do it anyway.
He was not going to lose himself in those green eyes.