Title: Sweet Memories
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Cedric/Harry
Warning: Um, mentions of character death?
Summary: As he waits for death to come, Harry remembers.
Notes: Some lines are directly from the GoF book. This is my first slash fic and my second HP story (the first was written about 3 years ago). Please be nice. Constructive reviews will be greatly appreciated.

Crouched behind Tom Riddle Senior's tombstone, Harry Potter shook uncontrollably, the pain of the Cruciatus curse still burning through his whole body as he flattened himself against the cold stone. Trying to control his breathing, he closed his eyes.

A vision swam into his mind, an image engraved beneath his eyelids… Pale grey eyes, open forever… a still face, frozen for eternity… rosy lips, parted in an expression of surprise that wouldn't disappear…

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry. You cannot hide from me." Lord Voldemort's cold, soft voice was taunting as he drew nearer. Harry's blood boiled. That was all his fault…

Voices filled his head, bubbly laughter that made his eyes sting. Memories of a time where he could feel carefree despite the looming prospect of the next task of the tournament, of a time when they thought they had forever…

"So, Cho, huh? Wouldn't have pegged that one." Harry forced a note of amusement into his voice to show that he was joking, he couldn't show the hurt clenching at his heart…

"Yeah, well – I went to the ball with her, didn't I?" the older boy said lightly, shrugging.

The moonlight played on his handsome features as the two Seekers sat on a window sill in at the top of the Astronomy tower – an involuntary meeting, two troubled minds looking for some piece and quiet…

The sixth-year linked his fingers together and gazed seriously at Harry. "She told me you asked her to the ball." He slightly shifted his position, straightening his back against the dull, grey stone. "I'm sorry."

Harry scrunched up his nose. "Well, best luck next time, right? Besides, I went with the prettiest girl in my year, according to Dean and Seamus, so…" He trailed off.

"Yet you kept staring at us all night." His voice was soft, slightly quizzical.

"And I had the strong urge to kick something," Harry replied, half-joking. "But…" It's all right, really, he finished silently. "It wasn't because of her." Okay. That wasn't what he meant to say.

It was the truth, though. Harry still remembered vividly the jolt of shock that sent him sitting upright in bed as, a few hours after the ball, he tried to fall asleep, and he realized that it was in Cho's place he had longed to be…

Grey eyes sought emerald green, willing them not to look away.

"Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry?" The cold voice was drawing nearer…

Harry remembered the sweetness of first kisses, the awkwardness of two boys experiencing something that was completely new but felt so right… And the thrill the secrecy gave them…

"Are we ever going to tell anyone?" His head on his lover's chest, the fourth-year lightly traced the contours of the house crest with his forefinger, enjoying the feel of strong, muscular arms around him.

"Hmm, I don't know." The answer was lazy, careless, and Harry felt long, warm fingers brush against the soft skin of his neck. "Maybe after the final task. Not now, anyway. They'd think we're helping each other."

"Isn't it what we're doing, though?"

The smile was evident in the reply. "Yeah, but not with the Tournament…"

Laughter bubbled up inside Harry, exploding at his lips – and he was soon joined by his companion. "You really want to win, do you?" The laughed had faded to be replaced by seriousness.

"I do."

"Come out, Harry… come out and play, then…"

A whirlwind of emotions shook Harry's whole being… pain… fear… grief… emptiness… longing… desire… LOVE.

"Together… We'll tie for it… Let's just take it together…"

And words… words spoken minutes – or was it hours? Harry had lost track of time – earlier… words that had made his heart flutter and then melt…

"I love you."


Footsteps, behind him… Voldemort was just on the other side of the headstone…

The warm, peaceful feeling the memories had embraced Harry in faded away… The fear was back, but diminished… determination had set in.

Clutching his wand tightly, Harry threw himself around the headstone, facing Voldemort. Facing death.

But he wouldn't go without a fight.

"This is for you, Cedric."