Harry couldn't help himself; he wrapped his arms around the Hufflepuff's waist, relief flooding him. "Thank you," he breathed. That was one person — one student — who believed him. He let go, flushing. Cedric's cheeks were pink too. "I'm sorry about all this. You were supposed to be the one, and I came in and stole your thunder." Hufflepuff finally had a moment in the sun, and Harry had to ruin it all. Cedric shrugged.
"Not your fault," he dismissed. "And it's all for Hogwarts, eh?"
Lips pursed, Harry didn't respond. He doubted the rest of the school would see it that way.
They parted ways at the stairs, but Harry didn't go up to Gryffindor Tower. He wasn't ready to face that yet. Instead he went to the dungeons, only one destination in mind. A place he'd never been, but seen on the map enough times to find his way to. He knocked cautiously. The door opened, and dark eyes greeted him. "I thought you might show up."
Snape beckoned him into his quarters, and Harry barely got the chance to look around before he was wrapped in a tight hug. "Oh, cub!" It was Remus, his grip almost painful. "I came as soon as Severus told us. Merlin, Harry, what happened?"
"I don't know!" Harry said once Remus' grip loosened, looking up earnestly at the two adults. "I didn't put my name in! Dumbledore says I have to compete; it's a binding magical contract, apparently!"
"Unfortunately, he's right," Snape declared. "The Goblet of Fire is a very old, very powerful magical artefact. Once it selects you for the tournament, you must compete in each task unless you die or are disqualified, or risk losing your magic." "How do I get disqualified?" Harry asked. Snape's face was grim.
"Previously, champions have been disqualified for trying to kill or severely injure another champion." Oh. Maybe not, then.
"So I'm screwed, is what you're saying?" Harry surmised. "Great. Whoever's trying to kill me is finally going to get their wish. Do you think it was Dumbledore? He didn't look all that put out by it all. And he's certainly powerful enough."
"I think the headmaster has other plans for you, and he wouldn't risk them on something like this," Remus said gently. "I think this came from… the other side of the board." Voldemort, then. Fantastic. Harry felt his hands begin to shake, the shock setting in, and within moments he was being led to a chair and handed a mug of hot chocolate. "Breathe, cub," Remus murmured, his hand solid on Harry's shoulder. "Just breathe."
"I can't do this!" Harry said, his voice strangled. "I'm fourteen! I don't know nearly as many spells as the others, and sheer dumb luck will only get me so far! I'm going to die in this sodding tournament!"
"You will not die." The words came in a firm hiss, and Harry's head snapped up, meeting Snape's near-black eyes. "You're not an idiot, Potter. You're a darn sight more powerful than you give yourself credit for, and after teaching you this summer I have every faith in your ability to survive this tournament. You will have help wherever you should need it surely you didn't expect us to just throw you to the wolves?"
Harry blinked. Snape took a step back, looking a little surprised by his own outburst. By his side, Remus smiled. "Severus is right, Harry. You're a talented young man, and we'll do whatever we can to make sure you get through this in one piece. Now, why don't you head up to bed? I daresay after all this excitement you could use the rest."
Now that the shock was fading, Harry was pretty exhausted. He gulped down the hot chocolate, feeling the sugar rush through him. "Okay," he said eventually, once his pulse had returned to normal. "It'll be fine. Everything is fine." He looked up at the two adults. "You really think I can do this?" The tournament was supposed to challenge even the of-age wizards. How could Harry compare?
"Absolutely," Remus assured. "You don't have to win. You just have to finish." He took Harry's empty mug, setting it on the coffee table. "Now go on, up to the dorms with you. Call Sirius when you get there, would you? He wanted to come with me, but we didn't want to risk it."
Harry got to his feet, eagerly accepting one last hug from the werewolf. "Thank you," he murmured. "Both of you." He glanced up to Snape. "I'm sorry to barge in. I just… I needed…" He trailed off, the words not quite making it to his throat. He needed reassurance, and he had come to Snape, regardless of whether Remus had been there or not. What was the world coming to?
To his surprise, Snape put a hand on his shoulder, just for a second. "I told you to come here if there was an emergency," he reminded. "I rather think this qualifies."
Harry offered the man a tentative smile, which didn't last long when he geared himself up to head to Gryffindor. Time to face the music.
.-.-.
To his surprise, Gryffindor Tower was in the middle of a party when he arrived, and he was immediately dragged into the middle of it. "Brilliant, Harry!" Katie Bell cheered.
"If it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor!" Angelina enthused. Harry was congratulated and slapped on the back by people he barely even knew, the common room full of cheering and applause. Harry tried to insist he hadn't put his name in, but no one wanted to listen.
A hand wrapped around his shoulder, and Harry fought it as it yanked him backwards, only to find himself looking up at a familiar freckled face. "Alright, Harry?" Fred asked, brows furrowed in concern. He'd pulled Harry up into the dormitory stairwell, and George was leaning against the wall opposite. "I didn't do it," Harry insisted. "I don't want this!"
"We know," the twins said, and Harry faltered. George grinned at him.
"You were pretty vocal about not wanting it, mate," he pointed out.
"And if you'd figured it out, you would've told us," Fred agreed.
"The question is, whodunnit?" George's words made Harry grimace.
"Moody thinks whoever did it is trying to get me killed. I'd say he's pretty on the money there." Both twins shared a grim look. "Well, you'll show 'em, won't you, Harry?" Fred said, clapping him on the shoulders.
"Yeah, if anyone can do it, it's you!" George grinned, brown eyes bright. "Give Diggory a run for his money, won't you?"
Harry appreciated their optimism, but he didn't want to compete against Cedric. Really all he wanted right now was to go to bed. He said as much, and George ruffled his hair. "We'll get this winding down, don't worry. You'd better scarper quick, though," he added, glancing over Harry's shoulder. "Creevey brothers, incoming."
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