Unrequited

I stand at the fence looking at the Shrieking Shack. I feel him come up behind me and put his hands on my waist. “Boo,” he whispers into my ear. He runs his tongue along my ear as his hands slide around my waist. “Where are your friends?” he breathes.

“I haven’t a clue.”

“Does Ron still think you put your name in the Goblet?”

“Yeah, and he’s being a right git about it, too.” Maybe I should get some cheese to go with my whine.

“And Hermione?”

“She says she’s not taking sides, but you don’t see her here with me now, do you?” I try not to sound as bitter as I feel.

“Good.” With that, he turns me around and presses me up against the fence. His mouth finds mine, just as it has so many times before. I don’t even question it anymore. Although, I still have no idea why he would ever want me. His tongue slides into my mouth and I groan. Logically, I should be worried that someone might see us. Logically, we shouldn’t even be doing this in such a public place. But the moment those hands slide under my shirt, I lose all capability for logic.

What would Rita Skeeter have to say about this? She’s already turned my name to mud, but at least she’s left Cedric alone. If anyone finds out about this, he may never escape the scandal. I’m used to the sneers and snide remarks, but he’s used to being adored. It could destroy him.

I have every intention of stopping, telling him that we can’t do this, but he reaches around and squeezes my arse, and I forget what I was about to say. He breaks the kiss and starts sucking on my neck. Damn. Now I’ll have a hickey. How am I supposed to hide that? But it feels so good… I realize I’m groaning, but I don’t really care anymore. He can do whatever he wants to me now.

He nibbles along my collarbone until he reaches my shirt. His hands slide up my abdomen until they reach my chest. He tweaks a nipple as he bites down on my shoulder. “I want you, Harry.” To illustrate his point, he grinds against me. My own arousal is evident through my trousers. I bite my lip to keep from moaning as he rubs against me.

Really, one of us should be thinking of a place to go. We should at least stop frotting against each other out here. But he’s in control; he’s always in control. And he’s not worried about being seen. Apparently, he’s not worried about much of anything. The first task is a week away, and he’s busy making out, when he should be practicing defensive spells. Not that I’m complaining.

He kisses his way up my neck and nuzzles my ear. “Where can we go?” he whispers.

“Go?” My mind is in a haze; nothing is making much sense to me right now.

He thrusts his hips against mine. “To finish what we’ve started.” He licks my ear again. “I want you, Harry.” He nibbles my earlobe. “I want to feel you,” he runs his hands along my side, “to taste you,” he runs his tongue up my neck and along the edge of my ear, “to make love to you.” I shudder. Those words went straight to my groin. Of course, I have no illusions that this would be “making love.” Love has never really been a part of this. This was all just an experiment between two horny teenagers. But I know what he means. He’s too nice to say he just wants to fuck me.

I look into his eyes and can see the need. I glance toward the Shrieking Shack. Everyone thinks it’s haunted. No one will go up there. And even if they do hear something, they’ll just think it’s the ghosts. My gaze returns to Cedric. His eyes are questioning, but only for a moment. Then he grabs my hand and practically drags me through the gate and up the hill.

It takes a few minutes to find a way inside, but we manage. Once inside, he shoves me up against a wall and continues ravaging my mouth. Our clothes disappear in record time, and suddenly he’s bending me over an abused piece of furniture. I’m not sure where the lube came from. I didn’t see him take anything from his pockets. Then again, I wasn’t paying much attention.

He slips one slick finger in to the knuckle. This isn’t my first time, so the first finger goes in easily. He works it in and out a few times before adding a second. I can feel myself being stretched, but I’m used to it. I groan when he adds a third. “All right, Harry?” I nod, not trusting my voice at the moment. He works his fingers in and out for a minute, and then he turns his hand, searching for that tiny nub inside me that will set off sparks behind my eyelids.

His fingers brush against that spot and I let out a moan. He rubs against it, and I can’t help but beg for more. When he removes his fingers, I feel a momentary sense of loss. Then I feel the tip of his well-lubed cock pressing against my entrance. He enters me slowly. He always goes slow. Maybe he’s afraid of hurting me. Maybe his first time was too rough. I know he’s been with others before me. Maybe he’s been hurt before, and he doesn’t want to do that to me. Maybe he’s just gentle by nature.

He takes his time, pushing all the way into me, and then pulling out almost completely. His pace is dead slow and it drives me insane. It’s just enough to keep me aroused, not enough for release. “Cedric, please…” I’m not above begging. I think he likes it when I beg. Maybe he has a sadistic streak hidden somewhere deep beneath that kind exterior.

He leans down until his bare chest touches my back in a long line. He whispers in my ear, “Please what, Harry? What do you want?”

It sounds so sexy when he says that. And he’s stopped moving now, so I know damn well that he knows what I want. I moan in frustration. “Just move, please.” He returns to his slow, steady rhythm, but he doesn’t raise up off of me, so he’s not going in as deep now. “Cedric…please…” He chuckles darkly and licks the back of my neck. He returns to his position standing behind me and withdraws until only the very tip of him is inside me. Then he drives in all the way. I cry out in a surprised mix of pain and pleasure.

“Is that what you want, Harry?” He pulls out and thrusts back in hard. “Is that how you want it?”

“God, yes!” I cry out. He changes his angle so that he hits my prostate with every thrust. “Yes, Cedric… gods, yes… more.”

“More?” He drives into me even harder. “How’s that? Is that enough?” I don’t answer. I can’t get my mouth to form words anymore. All I can do is moan. He keeps up the forceful rhythm and I can feel my orgasm building. He hasn’t even touched me and I’m about to come. I wonder vaguely if it’s always like this. Cedric always knows just how to get to me. He always knows what I want. He can get any reaction he wants out of me. Can anyone else do that? When we first hooked up he said he’d been watching me. Maybe that’s how he knows. Given enough time, I could probably learn how to control a person’s reactions too.

“Are you close, Harry?” I moan in response. “So am I. I want you to come when I do, alright?” I nod, but I’m not entirely sure I can last that long. How close is he? His thrusts are becoming more erratic. He’s moaning almost as much as I am. He never makes this much noise. Of course, he’s never been this rough before. He drives into me fiercely and chokes out a growl, “Now, Harry!” It’s like a shock that travels from my ears to my groin. I explode all over the chair he’s been pounding me into, while he empties into me. He covers my body with his while he regains his breath. I’m not entirely sure my legs will work anytime soon, so I lie there and focus on my own breathing. After a while, he levers himself up and pulls out of me. He casts a quick cleaning spell on us both. “All right, Harry?”

My voice is still breathy when I respond. “All right.” He smiles and tosses me my boxers. I watch as he gets dressed. I always feel like we should stay afterward, but he always wants to leave. He says we still have to keep up appearances. He’s one to talk, after that display by the fence. He pulls his shirt down and straightens it, then looks up at me. I can see why so many girls like him; he really is gorgeous. Again I wonder why he would ever want me. What can I offer him?

He pulls his wand from his pocket and walks over to me. He mutters a healing spell to remove the hickey. “Sorry, I got a little carried away.” He smiles again as he hands me the rest of my clothes. I pull on my trousers and start to put on my shirt. When I poke my head up through the neck hole, I see him smirking. “You’re hair looks just like it did before we started.” I roll my eyes and straighten my clothes. “I should get back to town. My friends will be wondering where I’ve gotten to.” He pauses. “Do you want to walk back together?”

I think about it for a moment. I’d love to, but what if someone sees us? My hair may look the same, but it’s quite obvious that Cedric has been fooling around; someone is bound to notice. I shake my head. “I need to get back to the castle. I have to finish an essay for Snape.”

He nods. “Well, I’ll see you around, then. Good luck next week.”

“Yeah, you too.”

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He’s here. With her. Cho Chang, my last desperate hope that I’m not entirely gay. Of course, it figures that he would get to her first. He always knows what I want. He probably only brought her to the ball because he knew I was going to ask her. I should really check my logic on that. He couldn’t have known. I didn’t even know I wanted to ask her until after he already had. Maybe I just want whatever he has. At this point, I’m not even sure which one of them I’m jealous of. Maybe both.

My mood is almost as sour as Ron’s. He’s sitting there watching Hermione while she dances with Krum. She looks so happy. I know Ron has a thing for her, but can’t he just be happy for her? It’s not like she gets asked out by international quidditch superstars every day. Yeah, I’m a hypocrite. Oh well.

Parvati wandered off a little while ago with some guy from Beauxbatons. At least he’s dancing with her. I don’t want to dance. I’m not in the mood. Really, I’m not in the mood for much of anything. I could use a drink. Too bad this is a school. Maybe I could sneak off to Hogsmeade without anyone noticing. Right, and then I could have tea with the Bloody Baron.

I wish there was someone I could talk to about this. I never get to talk to Sirius anymore. He’s still in hiding, so it would be stupid to risk him getting caught just to talk about my sex life. Hell, Sirius doesn’t know I have a sex life. He doesn’t even know I’m gay. I suppose I’ll have to tell him sometime. Later. Right now, I’m going to get as far away from them as possible.

I nudge Ron. “I’m leaving. Are you coming?”

“No.” He’s still sulking. Fine, I’ll just go without him. I stroll out of the Great Hall and start up the staircase. No, I don’t want to go up to the dormitory. It’s still early. I think I’ll just take a walk. I turn down the side hall. I wander for at least half an hour, taking random turns, sometimes down hallways I never knew existed. Maybe they didn’t until tonight. You never know in Hogwarts. I start down a flight of stairs. I can hear voices and what sounds like music at the bottom. Light shines around the edges of a door. It looks like an unused classroom.

I open the door slightly and peer inside. It looks like a party. I recognize several Slytherins and a couple of Ravenclaws. Some appear very drunk. Maybe there’s a little alcohol left. Hopefully it’s enough to get me drunk. I step inside and close the door behind me. No one seems especially interested in me. I guess they don’t care that I’ve crashed their party.

I mill around in the crowd. I’m not really friends with any of these people. I only know about half of them. I reach a table and see that almost all of the bottles are empty. I guess I got here too late. There is one bottle near the corner that hasn’t been opened. I reach for it, but someone else gets to it first. What else is new? I look up and see Draco Malfoy open the bottle and take a drink.

He looks at me strangely. “I don’t recall inviting you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I just need a drink. Then I’ll leave.”

He looks at the table covered with empty bottles for a long time. I guess he’s already drunk. He looks at the bottle in his hand and raises his eyes to meet mine. “You expect me to share?”

“I think you’ve had enough.”

“Nonsense.” He takes another drink. “I’m a Malfoy. We don’t get drunk.”

I laugh at that. “Right. So you’re intentionally swaying from side to side.” It’s true; he looks like he might fall at any moment.

He glares at me and then turns suddenly, catching himself on the table before he falls. “Well, if I must share my alcohol, we’re at least going someplace where we won’t be seen by everyone in this room.” I wonder if there’s anyone here sober enough to notice or care.

He leads me to a doorway. Inside is a sort of sitting room. He plops gracelessly onto the couch and gestures to the other end. I contemplate sitting in the chair across from him, but it looks uncomfortable. Besides, he’s probably too drunk to hand the bottle to me if I’m that far away. It would be a pity to let all that alcohol soak into the rug. I take off my dress robes and sit on the couch, turning so my back is against the armrest.

“So why are you here?” he asks.

“We’ve been through this. I just need a drink.”

“No, I mean why are you at my party? How did you find out about it? Who invited you? Why aren’t you at the ball?”

“I’m not at the ball because the ball sucks. And I wasn’t invited; I just sort of…found this place.”

He seems confused. “What exactly sucks about the ball? Can’t you dance?”

“I can. I just really don’t feel like it.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have to answer that. Now give me the bloody bottle.”
He glares at me. “No. Not until you’ve answered my questions.”

“Fine! You want to know why I left the ball? I can’t stand watching them dance. They’re so close to each other and they’re so bloody happy together, and damn it! Why couldn’t he be that happy with me? He had to go and dump me. And then he stole her away. I thought I had a chance at being normal. I thought, you know, maybe I’m not completely gay. Maybe I’m just bi. But no… he had to go and take the only girl I’ve ever had even lukewarm feelings for. So now I don’t have either of them, and they’re both perfectly happy with that.”

Malfoy looks a little lost. I’m sure by the time I finished my little rant, he had already forgotten what I was talking about in the first place. Good. It’s better if he forgets what I just said. In fact, it’s better if he forgets I was ever here. Why am I here anyway? I just told Draco bloody Malfoy that I’m gay. And he’s sitting there staring at me. My biggest secret was just blurted out to the very last person I ever wanted to know.

“You’re right. You need a drink.” With that, he hands me the bottle.

He seems content to sit there and watch me drink myself stupid. That’s fine. I’m content to sit here and drink myself stupid. I’m not entirely sure what I’m drinking, but it works fast. I can barely see across the room, and I know there’s no point in standing, because I could never make it all the way to the door without falling on my arse. I guess I’m stuck with Malfoy.

“So, let me get this straight.” Damn, he’s more coherent that I am now. That wasn’t supposed to happen. “You’re gay.” Leave it to Malfoy to be a good listener when he’s drunk. “You had a boyfriend, and he dumped you.”

“I wouldn’t call him a boyfriend, exactly. We just… you know.”

This seems to amuse Malfoy. “You just liked to fuck.”

“Well, if you want to be brash about it.” I really don’t like where this conversation is going.

“So, he dumped you and came to the ball with some chick you think you like, even though you’re gay. And they’re happy, and that pisses you off.”

“Basically.”

“Okay, so he wasn’t really your boyfriend, more like your fuck-buddy, right?” I just nod. “Then why are you so upset? It’s not like you fell in love with him or anything.”

That gets my attention. Is that why I’m freaking out? Is that why I’m so jealous of them? Maybe I really was falling for him. Maybe it was love and I just didn’t realize it. Damn. “Why does everything have to be so fucking complicated?” Did I just say that out loud?

“It doesn’t.” I look up at him, and he’s suddenly much closer than before. “It can be simple, if you want it to.” With that, he leans forward and kisses me. Some small part of my brain is screaming that this is Draco Malfoy, the enemy. That part of my brain is being drowned out by my libido. It figures that Malfoy is a good kisser. Actually, Malfoy is a great kisser, and I want more.

He straddles my lap and kisses along my jaw. I’m too drunk to care anymore that it’s Draco Malfoy. I’m too drunk to push him off of me and tell him I’m not ready. Honestly, I’m not sure if I would do that anyway. Maybe I am ready. Maybe this is what I need to get Cedric off my mind.

He grabs my shirt and starts to pull it off. This is it, my last chance. I always lose what little resolve I have once clothes start to disappear. He tugs my shirt off and throws it across the room. His mouth latches onto a nipple and I lose any notions of stopping him. He lays kisses across my chest and up my neck before sucking my earlobe into his mouth. He pulls back an inch and whispers, “Fuck me, Harry.”

The first coherent thought I can manage is: Draco Malfoy is a bottom? Then it occurs to me: I’ve never topped before. Sweet, gentle Cedric always insisted on being on top. I never complained; I liked bottoming. And now the one person I could never imagine bottoming wants me to fuck him. Draco always has to be in control. Why would he…?

I lose my train of thought when he bites my neck. I groan and grab his hips so I can grind against him. He throws his head back and lets out a throaty moan. God, if he’s this loud now… The idea turns me on more than I care to admit. I rip his shirt off and run my tongue from his navel to his neck. I latch onto his neck and suck hard. I’ll heal the hickey later.

He pushes me back against the armrest and kisses his way down my chest and abdomen. He dips his tongue in my navel and then slides it under the waistband of my trousers. He looks up at me while he unzips them and pulls out my cock. I’m so fucking hard. He keeps eye contact while he runs his tongue from base to tip. Then he takes the head into his mouth. It’s such a gorgeous sight as he peers up at me through those silver-blond locks and lowers his mouth over my throbbing erection. He sucks as he pulls back up and it’s my turn to throw my head back and moan.

Draco obviously has a lot of practice giving head. He has me on the brink of orgasm in less than ten minutes. Just before I come, he sits up and wraps his hand tightly around the base of my shaft, effectively stopping my release. “Not yet,” he whispers. He scoots back and pulls my trousers and boxers completely off. Then he stands and removes his own. I have no idea how he can be that coordinated. I can tell he’s still drunk. He pulls a jar out of his pocket before returning to the couch.

I lie there and watch while he coats his fingers with lubricant and prepares himself. The sight is intoxicating. After a few moments, he gathers more lubricant and turns his attention to my cock. The lube feels cold at first, but it warms almost immediately. He rubs it onto me slowly, and it reminds me a little of Cedric, of how he always went so slow until I begged him to speed up. I push all thoughts of Cedric away. He’s with Cho now. And I’m with Draco, who is currently kissing me like the world is about to end.

He straddles me again and I can feel his puckered entrance barely touching the tip of my cock. He lowers himself slowly, and the tight heat closing around me is almost enough to drive me insane. I grab his thighs and bite my lip, trying desperately not to thrust up into him. All I can think is, “God, is it always this good?” Damn, that wasn’t supposed to be out loud.

“Never topped before?” he gasps as he slides down a little further.

“Technically, I’m not topping now, either.” Where the hell did that come from? I can’t manage witty banter when I’m sober, let alone when I’m delirious from a mixture of alcohol and hormones. He squeezes my nipples.

“Apparently fucking me is turning you into a wise arse.”

“I’m not complaining.” He finally lowers the last inch. He sits still for a while, and the lack of movement is maddening. I try to distract myself with idle chatter. “So why are you doing this? I thought you hated me.”

“I do hate you.” With that, he raises up and drops back down hard. I dig my nails into the flesh of his thighs as he impales himself on my cock again and again. He rides me hard and fast, and it’s almost too much, but still not enough. I thrust up to meet him each time. He braces himself against the back of the couch with one arm while he wraps his free hand around his cock. He jerks himself off in time with my thrusts, and before I can say anything, he screams my name and comes all over my chest. He clenches around me, and as I thrust upward one last time, my orgasm hits. I cry out and drag my nails down his thighs.

He moves until I slide out of him, and then he stretches out beside me. Maybe he would leave if he weren’t completely sloshed, but apparently he has intentions of sleeping on the couch with me. I can’t bring myself to care one way or the other. He drapes an arm across my waist and snuggles against me. “But you know, there’s not much difference between hatred and passion.” With that, he drifts off to sleep. I grab the bottle from where we left it on the floor and take a large drink. After all, if you’re going to get wet, you might as well go swimming.

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I’m walking down the hallway after class when a hand reaches out from an unused classroom and drags me inside. This is nothing new. Ever since the Yule Ball, he’s been doing this. He’ll drag me into a classroom or a cupboard or even behind a statue. Sometimes we’ll take the time to undress and have sex, but usually it’s just frottage or fellatio. Occasionally he’ll jerk me off. I rarely get a chance to retaliate. As soon as he’s finished, he usually takes off like nothing happened.

Before I can get my bearings, he’s on his knees, lifting up my robes and unfastening my trousers. I lean back against the door and enjoy it. He doesn’t like to talk when we’re doing this, unless we’re drunk. When we’re drunk, all the lines are blurred and anything goes. He told me a week ago that he never bottoms when he’s sober, and that I am only the third guy he’s ever done it with. I still haven’t told him I was with Cedric. Maybe he doesn’t care.

I still can’t get Cedric out of my mind. I see him in the corridors all the time. It drives me nuts to see him with Cho. But what can I do? He made it quite clear that we’re over. There must be something wrong with me. I have a gorgeous guy worshiping my cock, and all I can think about is a guy that dumped me two months ago.

I try to focus on the feeling of his mouth around me, but every time I close my eyes I see Cedric. Damn. I look down at the Adonis sucking me off. I thread my fingers through his silken locks. Those silver eyes roll up to watch me, and it’s just the reminder I need. “Draco,” I sigh in ecstasy. He smiles around my cock and sucks harder. I moan loudly and come. He swallows every drop and zips me back up.

He stands up like he’s going to leave. Again. I grab him and turn us so that I can push him up against the wall. I kiss him forcefully, tasting my own semen in his mouth. It’s almost enough to make me hard again. I kiss along his jaw and lick his ear. “You’re not getting away this time.”

“Oh really? What do you plan to do about it?” I love it when he flirts. In the halls, in class, we can’t have this sort of banter. We still pretend to hate each other. He says he still hates me. Maybe he does. But he’s good in bed (or a broom cupboard), and I just can’t bring myself to hate anyone that sucks my cock on a fairly regular basis.

“I plan to make you scream my name in ecstasy while I ride you into oblivion.” His eyes dilate as he thinks about it. He grabs me and kisses me roughly, shoving his tongue into my mouth.

I do love it when a plan comes together.

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Draco’s back to hating me. Well, I guess he always hated me, but now he’s acting like it all the time. I’m not sure what changed. We act the same as always in public, but we haven’t been together in private for two weeks. I think he found someone else. Oh well. It was just a game, anyway. We were just trying to get off. It was fun while it lasted.

I’m not sure what’s going on with Cedric. He helped me out with the second task. When he told me the password to the prefects’ bathroom, I half expected him to be there waiting for me. But he wasn’t. He’s still with Cho. Now that I’ve had some time to think about it, they really are cute together. They’ll probably have gorgeous children (all of them good Quidditch players), and live a hundred years together as the perfect couple. They’ll die of old age holding each other’s hands. I guess they deserve that life. I can’t offer a life like that. I probably won’t live to see twenty. Hell, I’ll be lucky to live through school. I wonder what would happen if I died in the third task. Would Sirius be able to attend my funeral? Would he even want to?

I think part of my problem is that I’m lonely. Sure, I have Ron and Hermione, but they only have eyes for each other. That’s fine. They deserve to have a million kids and grow old together too. Since I’m going to die young, I don’t see why I should even waste my time trying to find “the one.” Voldemort could kill me any time, so I should be living my life to the fullest. To Hell with waiting for things to happen.

The question is, who do I know that’s gay, single, and good at keeping secrets. Well, Seamus is single, but he loves telling people (namely me) about his exploits. He’s flirted with me a number of times, but I don’t think I can trust him. Besides, if any stupid feelings get involved and things go arse up, it would really suck to still have to share a dorm room with him. Colin is… well, Colin. He’s almost flamboyantly gay, but he doesn’t talk about his sex life. He’s not that hard on the eyes now that he’s starting to grow up a little. And I know he has the hots for me. He’s been downright obsessive about me since he got here. But I know feelings would get involved there, and I don’t want any of that. Still, he may be my only option…

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I hold his wrists in one hand above his head. My body is pinning him against the wall as I kiss him with abandon. I rotate my hips and he moans at the feel of my erection brushing against his. My free hand slips under his shirt. “Oh, God, Harry, I need you,” he breathes as I trail kisses down his neck. Damn, this is addicting. It’s too bad I’m still thinking of Cedric. Colin’s sandy hair reminds me so much of him sometimes. But Cedric is taller. And he always dominates. But Colin is the perfect bottom. I know just what to do to get the reaction I want. He’s so predictable, but I love pushing his buttons. I love making him whimper and moan, scream and beg. I love the way he catches my eye across the table in the Great Hall and bites his lip, letting me know he wants more. We do this so often now. He still hasn’t told anyone. The way things are going, I just might keep him.

The final task is just days away. Hermione has me working so hard, I need a break. I deserve this. I slide my free hand down his thigh and he happily wraps his leg around my waist. I let go of his wrists to grab his other leg, lifting him up and pinning him to the wall. He’s ready for me. I can feel his cock pressing against my stomach. He reaches around and pulls my wand from my back pocket, muttering a spell to get rid of our clothes. How the Hell does he know that spell? Oh, right, I taught him. He says another spell to prepare himself. This is so much easier with the aid of magic.

He drops the wand on the pile of clothing now lying in a heap next to us. His fingers thread through my hair and he kisses me. “Fuck me, Harry.” Those words go straight to my cock. I push into him, probably a little too fast, but he doesn’t complain. He never complains. I’m finally giving him the attention he’s always wanted.

I fuck him hard and fast. His orgasm hits first (not surprising with the combined sensations of my cock in his arse and his cock trapped between our writhing bodies). He drags his nails across my back and screams in pleasure. I vaguely hear my name in the cries of completion, but I don’t care. He could be screaming anyone’s name right now. It would still push me over the edge. I dig my nails into his thighs and bite his shoulder as my seed fills him. All of my energy drains away, and I sink slowly to my knees, his legs still wrapped around me.

We sit like that a few moments, and then he reaches over to the pile of clothes to retrieve the wand. He casts a cleaning spell and stands. I watch him get dressed. After a while, he notices my attention. “Is something wrong, Harry?” I just sit there. He walks over and kneels next to me. “Don’t worry about the third task; you’re going to be great.” He kisses me gently. “You’re always great.”

I smile weakly. Is that what’s wrong? Am I just nervous? I think I’m worried that I’ll lose to Cedric. Maybe I’m more worried that I’ll win. Cedric deserves to win. Hufflepuff never gets any glory. Damn. I’m still thinking about him. This isn’t good. At least this is his last year at Hogwarts. Maybe I won’t think about him so much if I don’t see him in the halls every day.

“Harry?” I look over at him. He’s gathering up my clothes now. He brings them over and lays them on the floor next to me. “Do you think… I mean, would it be alright if I wrote to you this summer?”

I sigh. I might as well be honest with him. “I usually don’t get letters. My aunt and uncle… they don’t understand magic; they think I’m a freak. They usually just lock me away all summer.”

“That’s horrible.”

I shrug. “I’m used to it. It’s all I ever knew before I came here. Now it’s just part of the routine.”

“It’s still horrible. I can’t believe Dumbledore lets them treat you like that.”

“What’s he going to do about it? They’re the only family I have.”

“Well, if you ever want to get away from them for a while, let me know. Okay?”

I smile. I’ll never take him up on the offer, and I’m pretty sure he knows that, but it’s still a nice gesture. “Thanks, Colin.” I pick up my clothes and get dressed. He kisses me again before we leave. He mutters something about cheering for me during the final task, but I’m not really paying attention. Cedric is just down the hall, holding hands with Cho and looking like some sort of Greek god. I guess all is well in his world. I feel like mine is slowly crumbling. God, I wish he’d just talk to me again. I know what we had was never real, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want it back. I want him back…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I wake up in a cold sweat. It was the nightmare. The one that begins somewhere around, “Kill the spare,” and ends with me looking into his cold, dead eyes as I grab the portkey. Every time I have this nightmare, I feel like I’m losing another piece of myself. It’s my fault he’s dead. If I had just taken the damned cup myself, I would have been the only person taken to that graveyard. If I had just been a little quicker, I might have been able to save him. If I weren’t Harry bloody Potter, I wouldn’t have been part of the Tournament anyway. Then the cup never would have been turned into a portkey in the first place. Cedric would have won, and everything would have been great. Sometimes I wish Voldemort would have succeeded when he tried to kill me all those years ago. Maybe I should have let him kill me in the graveyard. Oh well, I’m sure he’ll have another chance now that he’s really back.